Thursday, November 02, 2006

Two down, five to go. That's right, I finally finished In The Shadow Of Young Girls In Flower by Marcel Proust. I've got torn ribbons of post-it notes sticking out of the top and scraps of paper tucked in between the pages with things like, "Corr. to part in Alain's @ finding beauty in own surr." written on them. There are far too many of them to detail here, but some will probably end up over at Involuntary Memory if you're interested.

I was talking to Claire last night and mentioned what an interesting experience it's been, reading Proust. I have never read a book before that, even while it is so completely foreign to my own experience, has brought up so many memories, causing me to feel such a strong connection to it. Even while scoffing at the narrator (or Swann) for suddenly believing themselves in love when faced with the absence of a girl, I remember a similar occurrence in my life and have to grudgingly admit that my scorn for their actions isn't deserved. Or, if it is, then I must also direct it at myself! And this kind of thing happens over and over again. It's rather disconcerting, having your judgments called into question on every other page, but it makes for an enthralling and engaging experience.

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