PROUST BONG!

Why let Marcel have all the fun? With this new painted glass pipe you too can recall stuff you always thought you forgot! Remember: it's a real hoot if you smoke it at the same time every day except for Saturdays. When people ask you why you're smoking at a different time on Saturday you can go upstairs and tell your infirmed aunt and have a HUGE laugh.
'OMG! Monsieur Levan asked why we're smoking an hour early today! I just told him "Monsieur Levan - IT'S SATURDAY!!!!!!!!" '

'LOL!!!!!'

'hahahaha!'

What's goin' on?

So I made a mad dash and made it to my goal for my first week of page 150 in Swann's Way. What have I read? Lot's of description of the family's house in Combray. Little bits of the rest of the narrator's life that takes place in Paris usually. All this brought on by the famous madeleines, tea and that hot lemon drink. He wants to tell us about the experience with his aunt eating the madeleines but he keeps getting distracted by other memories. Sometimes these are fun sometimes they are not. Always well written but for some reason I find the rift with the philandering rich uncle more interesting than some other things.
questions:
1) how old is our narrator? is he the same age in Combray I as in Combray II? How much time has elapsed?
2) is there any structure at all to what he's narrating? is it just random?
3) could it all just be random memories tied together? could it?

I regret to say that the person who was writing in the margins seems to have given up around page 100, so no more smileys or little notes on the side. From here on out I'm on my own. I feel like a bomber in World War Two who's gone beyond the range of my fighter escort. Now it's just a few centimeters of sheet metal between me and the cold thin air, the anti-aircraft batteries and the German fighters who stalk me like wolves...

the text I'm reading

This week I've elected to read to page 150. I'm only a third of the way through (it's on Tuesday) before I say anything about the actual book I wanted to mention some things about the actual copy I have.
I checked it out of N.Y.U.'s Bobst Library and am not surprised that it's very worn and written in. I did not expect the emoticons however. Next to the passage where Proust humorously writes that nature had not endowed his grandfather with the capacity to be interested in Swedish collectivism, the previous holder of my book wrote

;-)

in yet another scene where the narrator is taunting his aunts there is

=)

On the margins of page 34 the previous holder wrote of her (I've assumed it's a 'her' but it could just as easily be a 'his') ambivalence towards returning to New York City because she had an exam coming.

In Search of Lost Proust

Unlike my languid kindred Sir Gregor, some of us (insert snobbish uptone here) are still hard at work; and far from being able to recline apon the Proustian shore must instead bury themselves in a sea of Chaucer lest their GPA fall into the B average abyss. We can only dream of Proust while sawing away at Troilus and Criseyde, and flirt with our dearest Swans Way while The Prioresses Tale isn't looking.

This summer however, it is SO on.

My exams end in about a month, and after I climb off my aircraft and back onto American soil I shall flag the first taxi I can find. I will then proceed to make awkward, stilted conversation with the cabbie-attempting no doubt to simultaneously instruct him about my Proustian ventures. And convince him that I'm not a tourist so to not even think about overcharging me, bitch. Once safely in Brooklyn I shall make ways to the first bookshop I can find, no matter how scurvy th establishment shall be. Once inside I shall claim a copy of Proust, fling it triumphantly in front of the sales person, apologize for accidently smacking them in the face with it (or not, if I happen to be at Barnes and Nobles, because lets face it-they probably deserved it), and take it home. And by home, I meen whoevers couch I'm going to be living on first, or a charming cardboard box from IKEA. I shall then snuggle down with Marcel and declaire myself one step closer to being a useful, educated and Proustian human being. I'll also buy a burrito, because damn, I miss those.

Mmm, burritos.

Until then, farewell my lovelies and viva la Proust!

before reading my first page...

It is May and I am about to begin reading Swann's Way by Marcel Proust. I just wanted to explain why I am starting this blog and what I hope to post throughout my journey through In Search of Lost Time.

I am going to make a go at reading the entire series but it is rather massive - we'll see how it goes. I might need a break between books (so I would read some murder mysteries - we'll see if I'm into blogging about those) or I might build momentum and not want to stop. Either way, this blog will be my repository for my thoughts about the book and about the act of reading the book.

PROUST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!