Swann's Way: In Search of Lost Time, Vol. 1 (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)

Latest English translation from French, 2002. 444 pages. Book 1 of À la recherche du temps perdu [In Search of Lost Time, in seven volumes]UPDATED: 11/21/2018Summarizing Proust has a long history, most hilariously shown in the Monty Python sketch “Summarizing Proust Competition” in which contestants attempt to summarize all seven volumes of ‘In Search of Lost Time’ within 15 seconds:Having just finished SWANN’S WAY, my summary takes this condensed haiku form:Madeleine in teaBrings memories of lost timeMarcel is left sadNow for something completely different.SWANN'S WAY, the first of Proust's seven-volume novel, is a joy to read. For a novel about which many detractors have said 'Nothing happens' it was engaging, imaginative, full of philosophical ideas, and, as the saying goes, was hard to put down. Is it a series of Proust's philosophical musings disguised as a novel? Or the inverse? An autobiography disguised as a novel? All the above? Call it what you will, but boring and uninteresting? Quite the opposite.Summing up SWANN'S WAY properly, I would say: The unnamed narrator of undefined age (though clearly old enough to reflect back on his childhood) – call him Marcel – is facing a very real and common human affliction, particularly of those of us of later age, a world-weariness, a discontent, dissatisfaction for the way life has turned out. Why is the world the way it is? At the opening of the novel, Marcel is seeking solace from this melancholy in recollections of a time past, a better time in Combray with his parents, but the memories are mere shadows – “Dead forever? Possibly.” [44] Then, unbidden, come a flood of Combray memories, triggered by the taste of a piece of madeleine dipped in tea, connecting present and past experiences, transcending time and space:And suddenly the memory appeared. That taste was the taste of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because that day I did not go out before it was time for Mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Leonie would give me after dipping it in her infusion of tea or lime blossom.... immediately the old gray house on the street, where her bedroom was, came like a stage set to attach itself to the little wing opening onto the garden that had been built for my parents behind it....and the water lilies of the Vivonne, and the good people of the village and their little dwellings and the church and all of Combray and its surroundings, all of this which is acquiring form and solidity, emerged, town and gardens alike, from my cup of tea. [p 47-48]And so begins Marcel's remembrances, or, more to Proust's intent, Marcel's 'search for lost time,' (or, playing on the translation of temps perdu, which adds yet another reading to the novel, 'wasted time'.)The novel weaves in and out of time, as memories do, forever timeless, stream-of-consciousness style, Marcel bringing to vivid mind people, places, and events from his past life, involuntary recalls sparked by the sensory stimulus of a phrase from a violin sonata, the fragrance of a lily, the taste of a madeleine.The themes of art, memory, time, identity, family, love, friendships, and beauty run throughout SWANN'S WAY. One concept that seems crucial to the narrator's metaphysics I found particularly interesting – that one can only really glimpse reality, the actual 'thing itself', through art – painting, music, literature. It is through art that we get a sense of the beauty of the world, a beauty which our meager fleeting senses cannot grasp. It posits that there is something more real hidden beneath the veneer of the physical world which we can only discover through artistic endeavor. It is art which captures that ineffable, transcendent something we sense but cannot grasp.One of my favorite passages in SWANN'S WAY which illustrates this is the narrator's description of seeing the twin steeples of Martinville church and the steeple of Vieuxvicq while riding the winding streets in an open carriage:As I observed, as I noted the shape of their spires, the shifting of their lines, the sunlight on their surfaces, I felt that I was not reaching the full depth of my impression, that something was behind that motion, that brightness, something which they seemed at once to contain and conceal. [184]A long paragraph follows in which Marcel cranes his neck this way and that to keep the steeples in view as the carriage makes its way through the narrow streets, until finally:Soon their lines and their sunlit surfaces split apart, as if they were a sort of bark, a little of what was hidden from me inside them appeared to me, I had a thought which had not existed a moment before, which took shape in words in my head, and the pleasure I had just recently experienced at the sight of them was so increased by this that, seized by a sort of drunkenness, I could no longer think of anything else.... Without sayint to myself that what was hidden behind the steeples of Martinville had to be something analogous to a pretty sentence, since it had appeared to me in the form of words that gave me pleasure... [185]Marcel goes on to commit his observations to paper, and only discovers the ineffable quality of those steeples once he has committed them to language, to words, to literature. But by the end of the book, Marcel laments that he is not suited for the time in which he now lives, this shabby, vulgar, inelegant time. Rather than buoy his spirits, his memories of a better, more elegant and sophisticated time merely depress. “The reality I had known no longer existed... The places we have known do not belong solely to the world of space in which we situate them for our greater convenience. They were only a thin slice among contiguous impressions which formed our life at that time; the memory of a certain image is but regret for a certain moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fleeting, alas, as the years.” [444]There is so much more to this book, of which I have discussed just a sampling of the themes in this seven-volume, 4,200-page novel. I look forward to this great adventure in literature.

In the western literary canon there are several recognized siege reads (lovely pun that ) that tend to mark off the dilettante reader from the serious. Horse choker reads of established classical standing. To have read and maybe understood from this class is the difference between mountain climbing as a day long exercise and a mountaineering exercise that is the culminating expedition built on months of preparation.Among these reads are the Great Russian slayers of trees, War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment. In more recent times is the great English language challenge Ulysses. In attempting to review Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way, I am making a public declaration of my intent to read all seven volumes of In Search of Lost time. In the past I have taken advantages of some of the lovely graphic novel versions adapted and wondrously drawn by Stephane Heuet. This time I have the paperback translation by Lydia Davis. It is said to be an easier read for a modern reader and I have reason to believe that the original translation C. K, Scott Moncrieff is a bit stogy and slightly bowdlerized.I am not going to return another gushing "is it not wondrous?" type review. While hardly my first exposure to stream of conscious, Swann’s Way is orders of magnitude beyond reasonable. Sentences stretch out as if in support of a national shortage of periods and planning to stop at the end of the next paragraph is certain to upset your schedule for the rest of the day. There are passages of glittering, fine and insightful observations and musings, but catching and holding on to any one is rather like seizing the finer glints of sun in crystalline waters while standing in the middle of a water fall. I also suspect that some of these wonderful thoughts, if held still and analyzed read as very deep while not making much sense.Swann’s Way begins by introducing ups to our narrator, Marcel. In 47 pages we get a detailed, recollection of his 6 or 8-year-old self, engaged in a highly complex almost creepy campaign to get a good night kiss from his mother. So yes, Marcel is a Momma’s Boy- the caps are deliberate.His parents are middle class, and well connected. Among their frequent guest is Swann. A man with even higher social connection however hampered by his unfortunate marriage. Continuing into the next chapter we meet more of Marcel’s family. His parents seem decent well-grounded people. Obviously his Mother is the source of good things. His Father can be coldly fierce, but given to great understanding and a knowledge of when to let the boy have his way. An Aunt who is comically hypochondriac and an all-time busy body. There is an Uncle with a steady series of lady friends of a type not admissible to the rest of the family. His grandmother is clearly his favorite and a center of his youth.The single overriding and central theme- occupying most or all of every human contact is: Who has the status to be recognized, if only on the street or at parties, who is allowed to visit and who has sufficient standing to be visiting as a family? The series is titled The Remembrance of Things Past because of the famous scene of Marcel inhaling the aroma of a tea-soaked madeleine cookie which triggers the rest of the 7 books. For all of that most honored literary device, the books could just as easily been Remembrances of Snobbery Past. Money, Politics, High Art and more than anything - class standing fill the pages.We now know that Marcel is a Moma’s boy and that the guiding principal of his upbringing is snobbery. His main interests seem to be flowers, especially hawthorns, actors/actresses and literature. He is most likely to be found bursting into tears, lost in complex reveries and indulging a highly self-center romantic overwrought thought process or in need of a private physician.Incidentally there are two main routes into town. On passes by the aforementioned Swann’s estates, and is therefore Swann’s Way, (for some reason it has two names) and another longer route known as The Guermantes Way. These two routes are going to be important. Each get theirown book. What they are to represent is not yet clear.Before leaving this part of the book, it must be said to Proust’s credit that he has a sly sense of humor. However comic his relatives, he respects them. We may laugh. He does not.Having several times mentioned Swann, his connections and his unfortunate marriage we move back in time to observe Swann in Love. He meets with a well-known courtesan, Odette. A woman of decidedly mixed reputation. Swann is something of a player and his fall is a gradual thing. From first date to first kiss is protracted, but quickly becomes best described as love sickness. Proust again to his credit gives us in detail what it is to be so completely smitten as to loose perspective, pride and whatever equanimity or equipoise natural to a well off, man about town.This book ends with Marcel now in his teens, becoming a habitué in Swann’s home. Initially he is a close friend of Swann’s daughter. Indeed, she is a possible future wife. Marcel is more fascinated by Madam Swann.Having finished Swann’s Way I had developed a reading approach that kept me going. The quality of the writing is such that I could pass through 20 pages sometimes without effort. I may not have absorbed just how great it all was, but neither had I been defeated by how wordy it all is. I had sufficient momentum to move directly into book 2, In the shadow of Young Girls in Flower. That review will follow in its turn.

per una ricetca scientifica

I'll start off with the quality of the book -• The cover is absolutely gorgeous.• The pages are delicate (not as sturdy as other publications but still good) and have a premium feel. I seem to love it.• The font is small but still readable and it's appealing to the eye.• Absolutely no damages of any kind.• No bookmark received.• You can see the size of the book compared to a regular notebook.Now, about the Novel -Swann's Way by Marcel Proust is the 1st Volume of the book 'In Search of Lost Time' which consists of a total of 7 Volumes (a total of around 4000 pages).Swann's Way is one of the Greatest Novels of the 20th century to be ever written. The way the book is written is absolutely gorgeous, beautiful, poetic, magnificent, glorious, splendid, spectacular................................................................Still, it's not a book for everyone, The book is a Remembrance of Things Past and Proust's narrative can sometimes be complex. The first 50pgs of the book deals with the topic Sleep, and the next 200 about the narrater's town, only then does the real plot begin, Swann's Jealous Love. Nonetheless, Proust's prose is breathtaking and is a must-read for every book lover out there.Hope this was helpful.

Lydia Davis' approach, which is closer to Moncrieff's, is very faithful to Proust's original text. In my opinion, her method in staying as close as possible to the French text proves to be very effective.

Clássico de literatura!!Este livro como um dos grandes clássicos da literatura influenciou gerações de escritores e leitores, de modo que se tornou atemporal.Vale a pena dua leitura.Super recomendo.

Although it is often frustratingly long-winded (the account of Swann's toxic relationship with Odette, although fascinating at times, did not seem to end), there are plenty of images and passages that are astonishingly original.