Adventures in Proust

“My greatest adventure was undoubtedly Proust. What is there to write after that?”

- Virginia Woolf

Now, don’t throw your hands in the air, exclaiming, “An adventure! Proust! And quoting Virginia Woolf of all people!” Because, you see, an adventure is an “exciting experience” — and I’m here to tell you that Marcel Proust is one of the most exciting authors you’ll ever read.

I’m here to tell you that Marcel Proust is one of the most exciting authors you’ll ever read.

Fine, I’ll put in a disclaimer, if you insist. If you are not the sort of person who gets excited when you finally think of the word that’s been on the tip of your tongue for hours; if you are not the sort of person who gets excited when you discover a friend who thinks from the same unique perspective as you; if you are not the sort of person who would, like my sister and me, catching a wiff of a certain scent, excitedly turn to the other person because it smelled like the home of a childhood friend; if none of these adventures of the mind appeal to you, then perhaps Proust is not your cup of tea. (Cheesy joke fully intended.)

But for those adventurers of thought, whose spirits lifted, rather than fell, while reading the above disclaimer, Proust is indeed a most exciting experience. I am only one and a quarter volumes into In Search of Lost Time, so I am but a beginner Proust Adventurist. But even as a beginner, I can share with you a couple exciting experiences so far:

Putting our vague (but oh so familiar) impressions into words. Think for a moment about those brief pauses we sometimes take while reading a book, perhaps at the end of a chapter, or of a particularly important paragraph, or of an especially interesting character development — and so on. Now imagine those vague, brief, fleeting impressions, when the world around you (your chair, your porch step, your hammock) seeps into your consciousness and mingles, for the briefest milliseconds, with the world of your book (Victorian England, the world of fairies, Ancient Greece). This subtlest of experiences might be familiar to us, but we do not dwell on it. Imagine, then, reading an in-depth description of an experience exactly like this, so vague yet so familiar, giving us not only a lively, clear view of the narrator’s consciousness, but a clearer, more lively view of our own! That is one such adventure that can be enjoyed in Proust. And the moment of suspended, briefest world mingling while reading, as mentioned here, is just one such example. (Even after reading Proust’s illuminating descriptions, my own attempt at explaining them here pales by comparison.)

Painting a picture of human nature that we never knew we knew. One of my favorite quotes from In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower (one English translation title for the second volume, also sometimes titled Within a Budding Grove), explains that sometimes all that is needed to make love grow is the desire to be a part of the beloved person’s world. The narrator is a boy in love with a girl; he thinks of her world as mysterious and glamorous. But he also goes on with further examples, such as girls falling in love with soldiers — that romanticism of the “man in uniform.” Does their love for the soldiers stem from an imagined world of bravery and chivalry and battle? I have to confess this rings true for me — although it is with [American] football or baseball uniforms, you see. Even if this particular example of human nature does not strike home for you (again, cheesy joke fully intended), there are so many such illuminations of the facets of human nature that, I promise you, you will find yourself staring in a mirror more detailed than any you have before experienced.

But I digress.

These ramblings of a beginner Proust Adventurist are, I’m sure, a bit muddled at this juncture. And yet I hope the excitement shows through. I hope that you might be at least a little intrigued about going on your own adventure in Proust.