Marcel Proust: In Search of Lost Time [volumes 1 to 7]: (Book Center) (The Greatest Writers of All Time)

by Marcel Proust

after we are...

could not bring them

Karl Jung - Mam and his symbols

Beyond this, again, are the nightmares of which the doctors foolishly assert that they tire us

than

inso...

nightmares with their fantastic p...

one of those slumbers into which we fall as into a pit

whether it be that our unconsciousness has been complete or our dreams entirely different from ourselves?

The resurrection at our awakening—after that healing attack of mental alienation which is sleep—must after all be similar to what occurs when we recapture a name, a line, a refrain that we had forgotten.

the resurrection of the soul after death is to be conceived as a phenomenon of memory.

On certain days, I was agitated by the desire to see my grandmother again, or by the fear that she might be ill, or

And at the moment when I wished to rise I had a delicious feeling of incapacity;

success.

Octavio Paz's experience in Srilanka

fixed places, contemporary with different years, it is in ourselves that we should rather seek to find them.

On leaving

Page 102

As I walked, I ought not, strictly speaking, to have ceased for a moment to think of Mme. de Guermantes; it was only in the attempt to draw nearer to her that I had come to visit Robert’s garrison.

seemed that a woman must be on the point of appearing, to satisfy it; if, in the darkness, I felt suddenly brush past me a skirt, the violence of the pleasure which I then felt made it impossible for me to believe that the contact was accidental and I attempted to seize in my arms a terrified stranger.

I had been successful in

wintry night, the strange place, the darkness, the mediaeval atmosphere would have lent her their mysterious glamour.

been

Refer the passages abt sound back in the same chapter

intuitive sympathies between man and man which, when they are not based upon any physical attraction, are the only kind that is altogether mysterious.

One is the man of one’s idea. There are far fewer ideas than men, therefore all men with similar ideas are alike. As there is nothing material in an idea, so the people who are only materially neighbours of the man with an idea can do nothing to alter it.”

knowing the rules is not everything.

does the genius of the commander count for nothing? Does he really do no more than apply the rules? Or, in point of science, are there great generals as there are great surgeons, who, when the symptoms exhibited by two states of ill-health are identical to the outward eye, nevertheless feel, for some infinitesimal reason, founded perhaps on their experience, but interpreted afresh, that in one case they ought to do one thing, in another case another; that in one case it is better to operate, in another to wait?”

A very significant question in the relam of socialist movement

“I should just say so! You will find Napoleon not attacking when all the rules ordered him to attack, but some obscure divination warned him not to.

you will find certain generals slavishly imitating one of Napoleon’s movements and arriving at a d...

weakness and greatness of the human elements are fresh causes of uncertainty.

Men who are enormously in love with a woman, who live in the society of woman-lovers, allow themselves pleasantries on which others, who would see less innocence in them, would never venture.

did not arrive

Page 130

reasons as incomprehensible as those that make children shut themselves into dark cupboards, not come out for dinner, refuse to give any explanation, and only redouble their sobs when, our patience exhausted, we visit them with a whipping.

little later, was a secondary and accidental grief, the tide of which flowed incessantly from his own heart, at the idea that perhaps she would be glad to make it up, that it was not inconceivable that she was waiting for a word from him, that in the mean time, to be avenged on him, she would perhaps on a certain evening, in a certain place, do a certain thing, and that he had only to telegraph to her that he was coming for it not to happen, that others perhaps were taking advantage of the time which he was letting slip,

Swann's jealousy ****

It has been said that silence is a force; in another and widely different sense it is a tremendous force in the hands of those who are loved.

increases the anxiety of the lover who has to wait.

her silence did indeed drive him mad with jealousy

silence is in itself a prison.

the spasmodic, regular cries which his mistress was in the habit of uttering at the moment of gratification.

His bad dream

Just few pages back Proust explained dram as our driving force

he saw all the disadvantages of a reconciliation.

the difference that existed between the two aristocracies: the old nobility and that of the Empire.

middle classes because they were the inexhaustible source from which the first Emperor had chosen his marshals and his nobles and in which the second had found a Rouher and a Fould.

Empire and middle class

to

P 146

But a premonition also of an eternal separation!

because that voice appeared to me to have altered in its proportions from the moment that it was a whole, and reached me in this way alone and without the accompaniment of her face and features,

outpouring of an affection which, on her principle of education, she usually restrained and kept hidden.

this isolation of the voice was like a symbol, a presentation, a direct consequence of another isolation,

grandmother, separated, for the first time in my life, from myself.

This freedom of action which for the future she allowed me and to which I had never dreamed that she would consent, appeared to me suddenly as sad as might be my freedom of action after her death (when I should still love her and she would for ever have abandoned me).

Here my mindes back when Didibhai played all hr tricks to refrain me from going to Calcutta with Madme Krishna Bs. Only for a few dys - had she been my real "granny" - wold she have done this ? The feeling of insecurity sometimes makes peple cruel and crafty . Just as the protagonist here had to put an act for a goodnight kiss from his mom- Wannz wAy

love to have hear all the things that we have not told them, and our assurance that we are not unhappy.

each face that we love a mirror of the past,

like certain houses in a village which one sees from a distance when the rest are in shadow,