What it's all about

Welcome to my blog!! Join me on a 365-day journey of discovery and "re-discovery" as I take up the monumental challenge of reading one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written, and in French!!
The idea was spurred by Julie Powell's "Julie & Julia" and my somewhat crazy idea to supplement my Rosetta Stone French lessons by reading Proust's "In Search..." in the original French.
Several people have looked askance (perhaps also entertaining the idea of getting me one of those nice white jackets with the sleeves that tie in back...) and said, "You've NO idea of what you're getting yourself into."
Well! Let me say that if you know exactly what you're getting into then you're NOT having an adventure. And I mean to have a GREAT adventure!!
I've absolutely no idea where this will lead, but then again, that's really the idea, isn't it?
If you've ever thought about reading this amazing work, but been intimidated by its sheer gargantuan proportions, then by all means, please join me and perhaps you'll learn a bit along the way about the fascinating man that Proust was, the times in which he lived, and perhaps find your own inspiration to pick it up anew and dive in!!
Bienvenue à m'aventure! Allons-y!!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Day 46: le velours violet de l'air du soir

"...le velours violet de l'air du soir..." "the violet velvet of the evening air..." How does he come up with these descriptions? According to his biographies, he wrote and rewrote and edited over and over to achieve this kind of writing; but the result is so magnificent, so revelatory... I am fully in thrall of this man's gift.

Proust was apparently pained by people who could not come up with expressions any better than common clichés, like "it's raining cats and dogs," and "deaf as a doorknob;" and from his writing it is more than evident the pains he took to depart from this practice which he so decried. 

In his chapter entitled, "How to Express Your Emotions," Alain de Botton goes into great depth on the subject, saying that clichés "are detrimental insofar as they inspire us to believe that they adequately describe a situation while merely grazing its surface." (p88) While this may be true, not everyone possesses the ability to describe one's experiences with such singular eloquence as could Proust. 

For me, this is one of the main reasons I read literature: to taken away by how someone else sees the world and the way in which they are able to describe it, which is so superior to my own. The ability to put into words one's experiences in a way that creates a door to a new way of seeing - that is what captures me; the extent to which Proust is able to do this astonishes me page, after page, after page.

I hope you are all as in thrall as am I.

À bientôt,
Michel

 

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