Alas; Proust's narrator bored me silly and I didn't like him or any of the people he admired, and although I plowed through this volume of one translation, I am not going to get any farther.
All these people are unpleasant to anyone they can get away with being unpleasant to, and if anyone but the housekeeper and cook do anything productive I don't remember it, and although I think much of the writing is supposed to be introspective or even insightful I didn't see it at all. I could see a costume-drama charm, because the rich here are so rich and so well-dressed and so unconcerned that anything worse than moving slightly down the scale among their rich peers will happen to them.
Maybe something happens another megabyte in.
There's a stunningly pretty graphic-novel version of The Remembrance of Things Past coming out volume by slim volume; my flippings-through have suggested that still not much happens, but the costumes and backgrounds get their proper spotlight.
Project Gutenberg text #7178
So wrote clew in Fiction (19th c.). | TrackBack