Mme. de Cambremer let herself drift upon a stream of exquisite memories and sensations.
Lovely Mme. de Cambremer. I know she’s the butt of jokes. Her name ends poorly, meaning the ‘de’ should be appended to the end. Mme de Cambremer(de). Not all that different in tone from Mme Verdurin’s name – verdant tinged with the subtext of ordure and urine. Also of cheese!
But what I love most about Mme de Cambremer is the presence of the mer in her name. – The Chamber, the Sea, The Cambre-mer
“The signs of the sea, the liquidity, the surging, the water rooms, Mme Cambremer- it was all there for the beachcomber.”
She is the room (cambre/ chamber) and the sea within. Mme. de Cambremer’s name transports us from Cambrai to la mer. Hers is the name we first hear about when Marcel’s father contemplates sending Marcel to the seaside. It’s that hilarious scene with M. Legrandin- the big ass – avoiding mention at all costs of Mme de Cambremer’s residence in Balbec.
That first description of Marcel’s room in Balbec (Intro, Place Names: The Name) tells us as much – the sea literally reflected in the glass bookcases.
Mme de Cambremer, the room with water, is the logical extension of Combray – if seen as Cambrai or Cameracum- names that are impossibly close to the root of Camera or chamber. From Combray to Cambrai to the theme of rooms. It makes so much sense to me.
Combray starts in a room. The section is filled with images of rooms – Marcel’s bedrooms, the intrusion of the magic lantern in his room, the drame de coucher and the good night kiss and Tante Leonie’s rooms (two) and then move on to salons. And if we can possibly imagine that Swann is the cygne or sign, and Cambrai is the room, then we’re talking here about the Sign of the Room - of domesticity and provinciality. Swann gets caught up in the muck of these rooms. He can’t even complete his study of Vermeer (master at depicting interiors) because he gets too busy with Odette, gets bogged down in the pettinesses of the Verdurin Salon.
And I should definitely make mention (or rather haven’t forgotten) the other kind of water rooms in The Recherche- the toilettes at the Champs-Elysée and their keeper, the ‘marquise.’ It’s all part of the fun.
Point is- the narrative does not and cannot get bogged down by the muck. It will move and flow, as the little phrase does, onward to Balbec. Mme de Cambremer (my fave) is there, pointing the way to the sea. Swann too, with all his talk about storms and Persian influences, leading us to the source, Venice. And plenty of ground to cover, and volumes to read, before we get there.