Time Regained: Final Entry

Time Regained ties together all the thematic strands that had been built over the previous six volumes of the Search. Fittingly, the volume begins with a description of the combination of the two ways, shown in the marriage of Gilberte and Saint-Loup. Gilberte tells Marcel that the best way to walk to the Guermantes’ is by the Meseglise way, by Swann’s; this also illustrates the reconciliation of the two ways. Such a resolution is a little anti-climactic though, since Marcel feels the least nostalgic about his childhood and Combray in the beginning of Time Regained. Nevertheless, Time Regained seems in many ways to be a capstone of all the previous elements of the Search; it includes a bit of the famous Proustian meditations, a bit of the Guermantes-social scene, the Meseglise-affected close personal conversations, and the always beautiful description. Even more than a capstone, though, Time Regained seems like a goodbye party; the narrator and author take the time to go back through all the great times we’ve had together, pointing out this and that from our experiences, and drawing conclusions from the story. One oen hand Time Regained is the epilogue in which the narrator explains to us the meaning of the story, with all of the characters coming back and interacting in ways to form a resolution. It is no wonder that Time Regained ends with Marcel sitting in a crowded room thinking of the past; in some ways, that is all that the entire novel is.
It is in Time Regained that we finally meet the emotionally mature Marcel that is to become our beloved narrator. Startlingly, though, the older, more mature Marcel is a little different in the present then he seems in the past; his stoic attitudes seem a little stilted and extreme without the melodramatic young Marcel to balance them. Marcel’s ruminations in Time Regained are surely the best in the entire Search, rivaled only by those in the first volume. Through much of the final volume, though, Marcel seems a bit cold socially; even his interaction with Gilberte is distant. This sort of social distance reminds me quite a bit of Stephen at the end of Portrait of the Artist; perhaps a certain amount of distance from social life is required to be able to examine it within one’s work. Still, the Marcel at the end of the Search doesn’t seem quite as artistically developed as Stephen, but is perhaps more intellectually developed. While Stephen at the end of Portrait is ready to write his novel, Marcel isn’t quite, but Marcel does know the subject and theme for his novel: time. Nevertheless, Marcel becomes more and more mature throughout Time Regained, which is more than I can say for the other volumes, and by the end of the novel we can see the full evolution of the beginnings of an artist.
Another interesting aspect of the Search that is much more prevalent in Time Regained than in previous volumes is the doom of World War I. All of the Search but the first volume was written with the knowledge of the devastation of World War I; this adds another interesting element to the novel that I have not previously discussed: history. All of the cities in the Search are doomed to fall to the Germans; Proust even changed the location of the basis for Combray so it would fall during the war. This impending doom gives much of the social action throughout the novel a sense of triviality, which is particularly important in The Guermantes Way. More than that, however, is the knowledge of the presence of time to create meaning throughout the novel. For we, as the readers, can understand the importance of location and action more because we realize the context of time, both future and past; we understand the situation better than the characters themselves. Just as the true nature of the Dreyfus case is known to the reader but unknown to the characters, so do we the readers take a different view of Saint-Loup and the military men. Our historical perspective of the Search is the same perspective that Marcel has of Albertine’s friendship with Mlle Vinteuil; through the context of time we can more appreciate it than most. Therefore, while other modernist works try to remove themselves from history and time, the Search relies on this dependence, for this dependence on time is part of the theme of the book, as the last sentence notes.
In the final volume Proust also addresses most directly his concepts of time and perspective, and fully ties the two concepts together. In the volume, Marcel often looks back on the past with a kind of distance and recognizes that his memories of things past are different than those things were at the time when he experienced them. This thought doesn’t upset him, though, for he feels that his new perspective on the past is as valid as his perspective was at the time. This allowance to memory is extremely important for Marcel to lead a meaningful life; if he could not trust his memory, then he would be isolated from the past and could not change as a person or appreciate life through contrast. However, through the acceptance of memory as a link to the past allows Marcel to connect to his previous selves and previous lives, even if these selves and lives are somewhat different than he supposed at the time. This embracing memory allows Marcel to “regain time” in the last volume. Moreover, Marcel journey into becoming an artist allows him to regain time even more, for his perception on life and people can in fact transcend time and obtain still more meaning and value as the readers gain more and more different perspectives. Marcel’s thoughts on time imply a relativity of meaning based largely on time; therefore, the longer the book is read, the longer the list of meanings of the text. Those who love Proust seem to echo this thought; each time they read the novel they get something different from it. Surely much of this has to do with the epic scope of the work, but it also has to do with the nature of time that Proust describes: it changes perspective and the past; the book that the Proust reader read when he was 25 is not the same book that he reads at 50. An important point that Marcel allows, I think, is not to fight this sort of relativity of perspective and time, but to try to appreciate as much meaning as one can at the time. This allowance that Marcel makes as he stumbles on the path to the Guermantes party is as convincing an existential resolution that I have encountered in fiction, although the novel is certainly not an “existential” one.
When I first finished the Search, I felt a little empty and underwhelmed; a book that had dominated my life for around a month was over. But the more I thought about it, the more connections I began to see between different parts of the book and others, and between the book’s perspective and my life. Naturally, as I read the book I saw parts of my life in Marcel’s, just as de Botton noted. But at times during reading the novel I thought that maybe everyone got so much out of the book because they put so much into it; after all, any book with 4300 pages is going to strike a chord at one time or another. But after a couple days, I am now beginning to understand why the Search is so well respected. I see most works of literature as a sheet of connect the dots. Different parts of the text are dots, and they give the interpretive reader clues as to how to connect them to other parts of the text to create some sort of meaning. The greatness of the Search is not only that it has a million dots, but that the lines connecting them can cross thousands of pages, forming one of the most intricate pictures I’ve ever seen. I have a feeling that I will still be “connecting Proust’s dots” for quite some time, and I know that I will read the Search again, probably spreading the book out quite a bit more than this time. Nevertheless, for now I’m glad to be finished with my first reading of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, and now to have finished my final entry on this web log.

The Fugitive

In many ways, The Fugitive contains all the emotional action and catharsis that the reader wants all throughout the Search, and the effect is surprising. Marcel, who previously in the novel would often have strong emotional reactions to small things, finally experiences real emotional trauma: first, Albertine leaves him (at the end of the Captive, then she dies, then his suspicions of her homosexual infidelities are confirmed. This is truly a bad ending to the relationship. Marcel’s reaction is surprising, though; instead of having an over-emotional reaction to much of the bad news, he instead is struck dumb and doesn’t know how to react. The effect that such a lack of a reaction causes is more emotional than his previous emotional scenes; we the readers feel stunned with the emotionally fragile Marcel, and are fully sympathetic to his feelings. This makes sense, for a typically emotional reaction to such tragedy would include Albertine’s death among a series of events that includes missing concerts in Balbec and going to see Berma at the theater. Therefore, Marcel’s anti-climactic reaction to the climactic events of the first half of The Fugitive seems much more real than the emotional reactions of previous volumes, and marks a step in Marcel’s evolution as a character and young man.
Ironically, just a few hundred pages after the total devastation of Albertine’s death etc., Marcel realizes that he is completely over Albertine and oblivious to all feelings about her. To me, this realization is more shocking than learning of Albertine’s death; Marcel claims that Albertine means nothing to him anymore because of the destructive nature of time. However, this realization makes the stakes of Marcel’s Search even higher; in regaining time Marcel is attempting to regain significance of past events in his life. Without such significance of the past, it is impossible for the character to develop and change; the lack of meaning of past events means a lack of meaning of current and future events. Therefore, while the Albertine that is long gone may mean nothing to Marcel, the Albertine in the past still does, and in his memory Marcel can find this Albertine and appreciate her significance. Nostalgia is for the developing Marcel quite important, for in recognizing where he once was he can judge where he is now. This dependence on time is of course a major if not the major theme of the novel, and it comes out even more in the next volume.
On some level, I see The Fugitive as a turning point in Marcel’s evolution as a character in the Search. Throughout previous volumes it was quite clear that the young Marcel is a fairly weak character, and that the older narrator-Marcel has a distaste for him. How, then, does the young, slightly unlikable Marcel become the older wiser Marcel? The Search is in some ways the story of a young man finding himself as a writer; something has to happen to him to make him see himself as such. In previous volumes Marcel outlines much of his intellectual and social foundation, but through most of the book Marcel is an emotionally underdeveloped person, because he is emotionally malnourished. The Captive and The Fugitive, on the other hand, provide him with quite a traumatic entrée for his emotional meal; by the end of the fugitive Marcel seems to begin to transform into another person. I have a feeling that in the final volume I will see the rest of the transformation, but the beginning of it finds its place in the action of The Fugitive.
Tonight and tomorrow through the day I am going to finish Time Regained, and tomorrow night I will write my final reflective entry for the Search. I have quite a bit of reading and writing in front of me still, but the end is certainly in sight. Now, on to the rest of Time Regained.

The Captive

The Captive and The Fugitive are the two volumes that could serve best as their own mini-novel, although I suppose that even they wouldn’t be miniature compared to anything else besides the Search. In the Captive, Marcel’s obsession and suspicion of Alberine reach ridiculous proportions. Apparently there is a movie that is roughly based on The Captive and The Fugitive, and hopefully Depauw will show it early in the semester, perhaps along with the movie adaptations of “Swann in Love” and Time Regained. Fittingly, the other section of the Search that functions best on its own is “Swann in Love” from Swann’s Way; The Captive parallels the early story in many ways. Both portrayals of love are fairly anti-romantic, and both protagonists have a weakness for jealousy. On another note, I think it’s interesting that the English translation of the title The Captive may be more meaningful than the French, since the English doesn’t have the feminine gender and can therefore imply that both Albertine and Marcel are captives in their own ways throughout the volume.
Although the feelings and actions of both Marcel and Albertine throughout the volume seem realistic if emotional, the situation of the volume does seem a bit of a stretch. Albertine’s staying with her unmarried lover alone is definitely a bold move in pre-World War I France, especially since her parents know about it. Similarly, Marcel’s parents allow the stay, even though they disapprove. In one passage in the volume, the narrator discusses the reasons why Marcel’s mother allows the girl to stay with Marcel; she feels that since the girl’s mother is alright with it, then she should allow it too. I suppose that this logic makes sense, if it isn’t quite convincing; also, Mme de Bontemps could allow Albertine to try to win a husband of a higher class by allowing her to stay with Marcel. Nevertheless, these sorts of reasoning are altogether unconvincing. In Proust’s life, however, the basis for Albertine, a man, could have stayed with him without as much open disdain. Unfortunately, the situation doesn’t transfer as well to Marcel of the Search. Nevertheless, after getting over a speck of realism, I think that The Captive was particularly moving.
Since The Captive seems to be the most straightforward volume of Proust so far, I think I will return the comparisons of Proust and Joyce that I mentioned in my first entry. Both are considered the premier modernist novelists, yet their styles are very different from each other. Still, I can see the similarities. Both the Search and Ulysses address epistemological issues about the way that we see the world and construct meaning of our lives. Ulysses does this, among other ways, by eliminating the continuity of style and perspective throughout the novel, abandoning the previous approaches to writing novels. In contrast, Proust takes the nineteenth century model for writing and extends it to its absurd extreme, incorporating three first-person narrators into the story. In winding these multiple narrators through the already snake-like story, Proust plays components of character and plot against each other, showing differences in perspective, particularly the perspective afforded by time. Both authors show perspective as an obstacle in regarding truth or reality, and both question the existence of objective knowledge. Proust’s display of these obstacles is more subtle, however; he tries to show them through the normality of one person’s life, while Joyce tries to alienate the reader to the variable perspective of one person’s day. It’s interesting that the two competing works for “greatest novel of the 20th century” try to shrink or magnify something; Ulysses magnifies a day into an epic, and the Search tries to capture a life (to a certain point) into a book. I think that the scopes of the two are similar, though; the change in size is much the point of the scope, raising epistemological questions.
I apologize for the tangent; in my entry on The Fugitive I will more directly address the relationship between Marcel and Albertine, which is a huge theme in itself. I’m just about done with the volume; it moves quickly. Tonight it’s on to Time Regained; the end is in sight, just in time for the beginning of the semester.

Sodom and Gomorrah: Second Half

As I mentioned yesterday, the second half of Sodom and Gomorrah is more appealing to the first since it deals with personal rather than public relationships. If the major theme of Sodom and Gomorrah is dark sexuality, then the book is split into two “ways”: the first half is the Guermantes way, and the second half is Swann’s way. Consequently, a large portion of the second half of Sodom and Gomorrah is spent with Marcel’s newfound doubts of his lover Albertine. His doubts strangely find their beginning in the words of Doctor Cottard, who notes that Albertine and Andree are dancing breast to breast, which, according to the doctor, implies lesbianism. To the great misfortune of the future Marcel, the Marcel at the time takes this sort of speculation to heart, and it begins to consume him. It amazes me how a few scenes from the Search seem to dominate much of the life of Marcel; this scene with Doctor Cottard is one of them, a turning point. Others include: Marcel’s goodnight kiss, his spying on Mlle Vinteuil, and his spying on M Charlus. All of the scenes listed here (there are others) are confrontations in some way or another with the nature of sexuality. So, it seems that sexuality is a big hang-up in Marcel’s life, and a major part of the Search. It certainly plays a major part, the major part in Sodom and Gomorrah.
Another pivotal scene from the second half of the fourth volume comes at the very end of the volume: the scenes in which Albertine tells Marcel that she was once quite close with Mlle Vinteuil and her “friend.” This, of course, confirms all of Marcel’s festering suspicions about Albertine’s possible lesbianism and creates an attitude of his that dominates all of The Captive. This kind of obsession seems extreme, particularly in The Captive, but it is also believable; I think that some of the more profound romantic attitudes in the Search are more anti-romantic than romantic, and Marcel’s jealousy-driven love is one of them. Like Swann in “Swann in Love,” Marcel does not decide to marry Albertine until he has fallen out of love with her, after he is convinced that she loves women. The volume ends with this resolution on Marcel’s part—his decision to marry Albertine. The volume’s end is quite a cliffhanger; I wouldn’t be able to wait the two years to read the next volume. I guess reading the Search as it comes out would be like the rabid Harry Potter fans, except with high literature. But I digress; both Marcel’s and Swann’s reactions to falling out of love with their beloveds seem rash to me. I understand that they (Marcel and Swann) are driven by jealousy rather than love, and possibly by the angst left in the vacuum formerly filled by love, but I still think their decisions extreme. Nevertheless, Marcel’s reaction at the end of Sodom and Gomorrah seems strong and heartfelt, and makes for an emotional rush of an ending.
Speaking of Albertine’s relationship with Mlle Vinteuil, I read an analysis of it that I find extremely useful. The analysis suggests that the significance of Albertine’s admitted friendship with Vinteuil cannot be understood or appreciated without knowledge of two previous episodes in the novel. The first is the goodnight kiss that Marcel demands from his mother. The second is Marcel’s observation of Vinteuil and her mistress through the window. When Marcel hears Albertine speak of Mlle Vinteuil, he thinks of the emotions from the previous two episodes and combines them with his new suspicious relationship with Albertine. But this combination is more significant than it seems on the surface; the events that comprise a life-meaning such as the one shown are spread out and removed from each other by time, just as Swann’s love in “Swann in Love” is but a series of incidents filled with love, staccato and separated over time. The only way for Marcel or anyone else to appreciate the full significance of life is through memory, that which transcends time. Memory, however, only works backward, so young Marcel spying on Mlle Vinteuil could not fully appreciate the personal meaning of what he was seeing. One’s life is limited within time, too, so one cannot fully understand everything. When Marcel sees Mme de Villeparisis, he cannot imagine that she was once beautiful, for he does not have the memory of her beauty. Art can, however, transcend time justa s memory can; we as the reader can appreciate the significance of Albertine’s admission of friendship with Mlle Vinteuil. Therefore, the very act of writing and remembering that is captured in the Search is the attempt to transcend and “Regain” time. The genius that I see in the Search is in the individual passages of philosophical observation, yes, but even more the inter-relationship of events throughout the novel, the construction of significance through memory and time. That is really neat.
I’ve finished The Captive, and I’m going to try to read The Fugitive in the next 24 hours. I should also post on The Captive tomorrow, hopefully.

Sodom and Gomorrah: First Half

In this entry I will address “Part One” and “Part Two: Chapter One” of Volume IV, Sodom and Gomorrah because Part One is so short. As I mentioned in previous entries, Sodom and Gomorrah was a relief to read after the strain of The Guermantes Way. Also, I feel that Sodom and Gomorrah was more important than its predecessor to the overarching plot of the Search, or at least the important plots involving Marcel’s relationships with Albertine and the Guermantes. Overall, Sodom and Gomorrah picked up where the end of The Guermantes Way left off, with the allusions of darkness and secrecy that lay behind the aristocratic life, and the volume then, in the second half, moves on to project this secrecy on the personal relationship between Marcel and Albertine.
“Part One” of Sodom and Gomorrah opens with the authorial persona addressing the reader like Trollope or Henry James. This narrative disruption is interesting; it is the first disturbance of such kind in the novel. This makes me wonder just why Proust decided to break the narrative so; perhaps he wanted to distance himself from the sensitive subject of homosexuality, or of sexuality in general. Whatever the reason, Sodom and Gomorrah plunges into the sexuality that lurked on the fringes of the previous volumes of the Search, and “Part One” makes an intense starting point. Proust’s likening of human and plant sexuality in the opening scene is brilliant; I would consider using the first part of Sodom and Gomorrah in teaching an English class an example of excellent prose and imagery. Nevertheless, the awe-striking revelation that Marcel has was not shared by me, for I saw it coming; perhaps I shouldn’t have read so much about the book before reading it. Even so, the way that Marcel describes and approaches Charlus and, for that matter, everyone in the book is radically different. This incident in “Part One” is therefore quite important to Marcel’s attitude in the rest of the novel, particularly in The Captive, which I am now reading. “Part One” of Sodom and Gomorrah also makes an interesting read.
“Part One” is immediately followed by “Part Two: Chapter One,” which shows how differently Marcel sees the world after his revelation. The party at the Princess de Guermantes’ is in many ways similar to the social events from Volume III, but there is one distinct difference: Marcel’s attitude throughout. Marcel seems in fact quite jaded at how superficial most of the people at the party are. Much of this attitude, of course, developed over the course of The Guermantes Way, but some of it also must surely come from the incident with Charlus. This sort of view affects Marcel’s perception of Swann with the Princess de Guermantes, and also dealings with the Duc and Duchess de Guermantes. Interestingly, this kind of skepticism seems to make Marcel more successful in the social world; this could imply that such cynicism is shared by many of the superior socialites. Marcel’s change from “Part One” is also reflected in his trip to Balbec in “Part Two: Chapter One” and his dealings with Saint-Loup. In many ways I saw “Part Two: Chapter One” of Sodom and Gomorrah as a sort of Guermantes Way revisited, with everything seeming different because of Marcel’s new perspective.
In the rest of Sodom and Gomorrah, Marcel applies his newfound suspicion to personal relations, particularly those with Albertine. Again, I like the more personal interactions more than the social aristocratic ones, so I like the second half of Sodom and Gomorrah more than the first. Nevertheless, this section was enjoyable and, once again, beautifully written.

The Guermantes Way: Part Two

If “Part One” of The Guermantes Way is an introduction to the public social life that is important in Marcel’s life, then “Part Two” explores the heights and pitfalls of such a life. “Part One” certainly begins to hint at them, but it is not until the death of Marcel’s grandmother that The Guermantes Way begins to show the dark overtones of the aristocratic life. This sort of thematic darkness concerning the aristocratic life is more familiar with me, and I enjoyed it more; this may stem from my background as a 21st century middle-class American, and not as a European aristocrat. Nevertheless, “Part Two” of The Guermantes Way has more non-aristocratic scenes, and I enjoyed it more.
“Part Two” begins with one of the most emotional scenes so far in the novel: the death of Marcel’s grandmother. I have read that none of the characters in the Search are likable outside Marcel’s immediate family; I feel that even within the family Marcel’s grandmother is perhaps the most likable. After much agony, Marcel’s grandmother dies, and the narrator brings this tragedy to life. This is in stark contrast from the earlier death scene, that of Marcel’s Aunt Leonie in Swann’s Way. In the first volume, I felt that Marcel was quite emotional, yet when his aunt died he made only the slightest remark of it. Perhaps this lack of attention is because Marcel was not as close to his aunt as he was to his grandmother, or perhaps the Marcel of Swann’s Way was too young to truly understand the loss he was facing. Nevertheless, the Marcel of The Guermantes Way certainly is, and he lets us know it. I suppose that the difference between the two deaths on the two “ways” could be symbolic: Swann’s way is private and personal, and such a way has a lot that is not communicated, a lot that is mysterious. Contrastingly, the Guermantes Way is all about communication and dialogue; the grandmother’s death is much more public and open. Whatever the reason, though, the death of Marcel’s grandmother is well captured and one of the most emotional scenes yet in the Search.
One of the more memorable scenes for me so far in the Search is the scene towards the end of The Guermantes Way in which Charlus acts very strangely toward Marcel. The scene caught me off guard because at that point I was around 700 pages into the Guermantes Way, a book filled with people who know how to act around other people. However, Charlus did not in this particular situation. It is unfortunate that I already knew what Marcel is to learn in the first part of Sodom and Gomorrah; it would be interesting to puzzle about his actions as Marcel does. I also feel that these outbursts are symbolic; Charlus shows how the aristocratic life isn’t all-encompassing, and some people don’t fit in it. This causes conflict, and the conflict creates such darkness as the Charlus scene shows. Overall, I found the brief scene toward the end of “Part Two” of The Guermantes Way, memorable, intense, and important.
Another thing that surprised me in “Part Two” of The Guermantes Way was how painless the dinner at the Guermantes house was. Its length in total is about as long as the Villeparisis party, but a few reprieves from the social situations made it seem only half as long. Or it could be that by the end of The Guermantes Way I was accustomed to the social rituals of the Parisian aristocrats and the dinner did not phase me. Nevertheless, by the end of The Guermantes Way I felt significantly better about the book than I did halfway through it, and I recommend that those who hit their Proustian wall in the third volume keep struggling through it. The fourth volume is much more interesting so far; I’ll move on to responding to it in a day or two.

The Guermantes Way: Part One

“Part One” of The Guermantes Way has been one of the more taxing sections I have read of the Search so far, and, rumor has it, is one of the more difficult sections of Proust to get through. Although both Swann’s Way and Within a Budding Grove have their respective cult followings, The Guermantes Way doesn’t seem to have such a fan base; this seems reasonable, for the novel is dominated by relatively formal social interactions similar to the type that cause a general dislike for Victorian novels. Of course, this is the idea of the Guermantes Way described in Swann’s Way, standing in strong contrast to the personal and intimate Swann’s Way. I think it’s interesting that the initial description of the social, aristocratic path was described with the intimacy that resembles its contrast. Perhaps it’s better that Proust began with an approach to the personally social and not the publicly social; the personal Proustian analyses first welcome the us before, two volumes later, we are thrust into the thick of the aristocratic social situations that Marcel yearns for at the beginning of the novel.
One of the infamous passages in the Search is the party at Mme de Villeparisis. This party lasts a whopping 250 pages in the Modern Library edition, and could be a novel in itself for a normal author. However, for Proust the Villeparisis party is only one of a series of scenes that makes up one of a series of volumes of the novel. Nevertheless, I feel that the Villeparisis party typifies one of the chief themes of The Guermantes Way: the nature of the public and social life. Whereas Proust’s earlier volumes often contain pages and pages of personal musings, some of the poignant Proustian thoughts in at the party take the form of dialogue; this sort of communication is a benefit of the Guermantes way. Not that Marcel doesn’t add his own commentary and reflection of the goings-on around him; he does, and these commentaries add quite a bit to the social situation. One difference between Proust’s dinner party and so many other fictional depictions of aristocratic social life is simple: Proust doesn’t simply glamorize it or criticize it, but alternately does both. Marcel will go from lambasting someone to recognizing their social graces in a matter of 20 pages (a mere Proustian trifle). Although at times this flux seems silly, there is some truth behind it; on issues such as these, don’t we all feel multiple ways? Although the party scene was taxing, it was nevertheless worthwhile and rich; I’m just glad that I’ve finished it for now.
A more small-scale view of public social life in “Part One” of The Guermantes Way precedes and anticipates the party scene; this is the relations between Marcel and Saint-Loup at the military base. I found these surrounding more enjoyable, perhaps because they were more intimate, perhaps because the events took place over a matter of months instead of hours. Nevertheless, I found the dinner-time conversation to be an application of the principle of the Guermantes way applied to a different public social situation: that of young men being sociable. This intimate-but-not-intimate situation, I felt, made a nice transition into the heart of The Guermantes Way. Also, all of the homo-social relations surrounding Saint-Loup seem to be foreshadow more than just dinner parties: the homosexual overtones definitely seem in line with some of the major themes of Sodom and Gomorrah. Of course, Saint-Loup is very different socially from Charlus (or any of a multitude of others from the fourth volume), and many of his comments are innocent enough. Nevertheless, this sort of almost-erotic social tone sets the stage for the beginning of the fourth volume, in which Marcel has a realization about those around him that he should have seen earlier. The tension between Saint-Loup and Marcel also drives the first scenes of “Part One” just as a similar tension drives the Charlus scenes later in the volume.
Overall, “Part One” of The Guermantes Way has been the most difficult section of Proust so far, but it has not been without its reward. From what I have read and heard, this is the hump of the novel; after it are sadness and tension in “Part Two” and sexuality and disillusionment in Sodom and Gomorrah. I’m ready.

Place Names-The Place

I feel that “Place Names-The Place,” the sprawling second chapter of Within a Budding Grove, is more thematically poignant than any of the other selections of Proust that I have read so far (I am almost finished with the Guermantes Way). As I mentioned in my previous post, one of the attractions that Within a Budding Grove has for me is the volume’s genuine feel for adolescent love. “Place Names-The Place” begins (p. 300-302) by addressing the relative nature of love, for such relativity is a major theme for the chapter in which Marcel develops feelings for a number of girls, making a shift from Gilberte to Albertine. On beginning the Search, I knew that Albertine was a major figure, and I knew that she appears in the second volume; I was surprised, therefore, that she did not appear until so late in the book, and that she has had such a limited role in The Guermantes Way. However, after examining why, I understand this; even the most important non-family figure in someone’s life is not going to appear until relatively late in the hero’s life. Albertine seems to be such an example.
The major physical movement of the chapter is Marcel’s trip to Balbec, one of the principal settings of the novel. I find it fitting that the narrator should mention Balbec and Marcel’s desire to visit Balbec so often before he actually goes; these references build the anticipation of the trip in the reader just as Marcel anticipated the trip. I know that when I read that Marcel was going to Balbec, I felt a relief that helped me identify with Marcel; I, like Marcel, was feeling cooped up and confined at the same old places in Paris. This relief reminded me of a major advantage that Proust has in writing such a lengthy novel: he can come closer than other novelists in simulating real life through his literature. In spending so much time on certain periods of Marcel’s life, Proust can give a better sense of what they were like, make the reader feel as though he were living like Marcel. This effect works particularly well to deal with the restless adolescent Marcel; the reader feels restless while reading so much about the restlessness of Marcel. Many people call Proust boring; I do not feel that this criticism should keep one from reading Proust, but neither do I feel that it shouldn’t be addressed. Sure, some sections of the Search are less interesting than others, and not much happens; sometimes this can be boring. But I think that the boredom that is created can be useful; it helps the atmosphere of the book and helps the reader identify with the characters’ frustrations. I think that many parts of the Search criticize the boring Parisian society life; this can come out in the prose, which helps show the anxiety of adolescence in Within a Budding Grove.
Although “Place Names-The Place” revolves around Marcel as the adolescent male, it also contains quite a bit about female adolescence, or, to be more specific, Marcel’s forming obsession of girls his age. Marcel’s dealings with Andree and Albertine shows that at this stage in his life he seems more interested in being interested in girls than in the actual girls themselves. Marcel does seem confused as whom he loves; at the end of the volume, during his confrontation with Albertine she confronts him on the matter, and he admits to the reader his fickleness. Overall, the females in the chapter seem much more aware and constant than Marcel himself; the revelations of the chapter come to us by way of older narrator Marcel, not confused adolescent Marcel. I think that this gender difference is the reason for the title of the volume, although it may not be so much a gender gap as a difference between Marcel and everyone else; the basis for Albertine, after all, was a man.
Overall, I feel that “Place Names-The Place” was a well-earned reprieve from the slowly building tedium of the preceding scenes in Paris, a vacation relatively filled with action. In Balbec, Marcel meets several of the most important characters for the rest of the book: Saint-Loup, Charlus, Elstir, Mme de Villeparisis, and Albertine. As for Saint-Loup and Charlus, I apologize for neglecting them here, but they will return in The Guermantes Way. And Mme de Villeparisis, she has quite bit of time to herself at her party; until next time, then.