A rivalry, a quartet, a church? on the first page? That's odd, no? she asked. And Marcel Proust said "Yes! My lovely little phrase- she is famous now?!'
It’s a topsy-turvy world, Proust’s is. Hopes dashed. Or else you possess and then you no longer want. Here I am writing this whole blog, hoping I can get my ideas out there, and now that I’m doing it, I’m feeling dispossessed. Like I’ve clung to this idea I’ve had- the question I’m asking- for so long, Continue reading “To think that I’ve wasted…”
Marcel’s room, overtaken by Genevieve de Brabant and Golo is perhaps one of the most captivating scenes in the book – and we can see it so clearly. Vibrant, stirring, emotionally resonant, gorgeously wrought. No translation could do justice to the Continue reading “Golo, projected”
I’m always thinking of the idea of Place Names: the Name. If I were to choose the path of reductive thinking, I might see it in terms of pens and swords.
Nom de Plume is Swann’s Way. Nom de Guerre is the way of the Guermantes.
I don’t really believe this, as I think such bipolar thinking is not at all Proustian. The two paths are in reality one and the same, as we know from the famous passage on The Two Ways. Continue reading “An Exercise: Nom de Plume, Nom de Guerre”
He’s not just the other one. You know, the one that Odette went off with, forsaking Swann. No, Forcheville is the prime contender for the Place Name: The Name award, his name in and of itself a place, or rather the idea of place. Also the idea of Continue reading “A fork in the road: Forcheville”
When I told my husband I was writing about canals today, he said ‘quenelles?!’
No, not quenelles. And not the canals in Venice, or even in Delft. Let’s talk about canals in Combray, shall we? Continue reading “Canals, not Quenelles”
“My thoughts had taken a turn a bit particular. I was myself what the book was talking about. A church, a quartet, the rivalry of Francis I and Charles V. “
For most, it’s just a little phrase – a mere 10 words long. Obviously this little phrase isn’t the one in the Vinteuil sonata. It’s a different one. And it has confounded me for – okay, I’ll admit it, for 20 years, no joke. When I first laid eyes on the odd combination of words in the opening paragraph of In Search of Lost Time [ISOLT], I was vaguely Continue reading “Okay, so what’s the question? It’s about that Little Phrase!!”
Here they are, my two kings, the ones to blame for starting it all.
I don’t even know why I looked them up. I’ve never been the least bit interested in history. But that’s how it started. I did a casual search, a few words typed in- and that’s when I stumbled on Cambrai Continue reading “Prooosty stumbles onto something”
Even though I’m not French I get it. The sound of an ‘o’ in a French word is nothing like the sound of an ‘a.’ So you say it’s Combray and I say but maybe it could be Cambrai. And then you ask me if I’m nuts. And I say well I’m not French, but… Continue reading “You say Combray, I say Cambrai”
Quatuor is not a very easy word to say in French. Probably why it caught my attention.
I just loved that word all by itself. – the u and the o a bit of a tongue twister for me, the non-native French speaker. And in my mind, twisting letters around- because the line preceding it… Continue reading “2 + 2 = a Quatuor!”
Now what would MP be up to, calling Swann’s lover Odette? Ode – some kind of poem-ish form. But diminished. a diminutive ode. An Odette. So basically a phrase. But a little one. A little ode.
I’m not saying there isn’t a little phrase in a piece of music written by M. Vinteuil and played… Continue reading “Isn’t a little phrase an Ode-ette?”