Tags » Remembrance Of Things Past

Book Review: Swann's Way (In Search of Lost Time Volume #1) by Marcel Proust

Shortly after finishing Swann’s Way, I was at a loss for words. While my impressions were mostly positive, my thoughts were nonetheless mixed, and I found it difficult to put in words – even to myself – such an unprecedented, bizarre experience. 951 more words


WRITER: Marcel Proust


Marcel Proust was born in South-Western Paris, in 1871. So, how did I first hear about the French novelist? Well, it was his love of madeleines, the little French shell-shaped cakes, often served with tea or hot chocolate. 85 more words

Marcel Proust

Thoughts on Reading Proust's Remembrance of Things Past

I have owned the two volumes of Marcel Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past probably for 3 decades. They were published in 1934 and I just learned recently on Wikipedia that my edition is the earliest translation of Proust’s remarkable work of fiction. 747 more words

I Can't Remember To Forget You: Proust and the Mother of All Descriptive Novels

Description. It doesn’t come easily to me. Other writers have spoken about this–there seems to be a definite divide among writers: some agonize over dialogue, while others have trouble with description. 1,223 more words


Quotes Ep. 5 Marcel Proust

“Thus our heart changes, in life, and it is the worst pain; but we know it only through reading, through our imagination: in reality it changes, as certain natural phenomena occur, slowly enough so that, if we are able to observe successively each of its different states, in return we are spared the actual sensation of change.”

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Romance ain't dead - it just ain't found in the shops

Love is in the air – not really it is just that time for consumerism to get its greedy little hands on people who think spending money on total crap equals romance. 52 more words


My fifth week of Proust

My most momentous week of Proust.

The work isn’t bogging down as much. There’s much more of a flow to the work, but it still stifles at times due to his verbosity and strange sentence construction (which I’m now convinced are Proust’s doing and not the translators’). 163 more words