Life is just another story.
Oh I can imagine this. :) The endless metaphors left my brain groggy, and because unlike you, I read it on my desktop, I ended up completely puffy-eyed. I confess, I don't remember much of what I read - but I'll share a favourite image of mine, I remember it because I have it written behind a photograph - "Sometimes in the afternoon sky a white moon would creep up like a little cloud, furtive, without display, suggesting an actress who does not have to 'come on' for a while, and so goes 'in front' in her ordinary clothes to watch the rest of the company for a moment, but keeps in the background, not wishing to attract attention to herself."
You read it on your desktop? Respect! Like you, I collect beautiful sentences from the book. That one is lovely. Like a small poem. And I´m not sure one is supposed to remember the same way one remembers other books. This is not so much as story, is it?
i'm so glad i read it! i'd love to read the newer english translation to see how it differs. the title translation alone tells me there are differences. i look forward to your reflections.
And I am very happy to be reading it, in spite of the special challenges, and a bit of whining...
Love this illustration, Viktoria! I had a similar experience with the book. I loved the beauty of it, but there was something about the rhythm of the sentences that was just calming and slightly hypnotic and sent me to sleep every time! Took me a very, very long time to read.
Thanks Andrew! I do think Proust´s words are so beautiful, but the weight of them makes the book a challenge, for sure. A Swedish critic once called Joyce and Poust "the Mount Everest of literature". I can see why.