Now I’m neither a psychologist nor per sociologist, and I don’t know whether there is any evidence for that view

Until then, I will dwell on my memories

But it certainly seems true preciso my experience. And for me, some of the most talented novelists are so wonderful partially because they can capture this phenomenon of chemistry. Consider two great writers I mentioned above, Tolstoy and Austen. Both of them, so different in many ways, are similar con their ability esatto describe how people change sopra the presence of other people; how one character brings out snobbishness durante the protagonist, another coquettishness, and per third joviality.

Durante both sceneggiato and in life, I love sicuro see how personalities interact. Why? Because it is this experience that makes me most strongly feel that I am not an island; that I am part of the world of everyone around me, and they are verso part of mine. And it is this that I most sorely miss from Proust’s perspective, because to portray this you need esatto give up the timore that you are just verso mind, and embrace the ispirazione that you are a affable creature, with as many ‘selves’ as agreable worlds you inhabit.

Whew, that felt good. I needed puro get all that off my chest. The truth is, I can criticize Proust until I run out of breath, but I still love this novel. And this libro is, I think, one of the stronger ones. For per long time I had been hoping that he’d do more with the Baron de Charlus, and mediante this testo he does just that. And believe it or not, a real story is starting to take shape; this volume even ends on a cliffhanger!

I will allow more time puro pass before moving on to the next registro. I definitely need a break from Proust, if only puro push away his influence once again and regain my own voice. . more

“The transmutation of sensation into sentiment, the ebb and tide of memory, waves of emotions such as desire, jealousy, and artistic euphoria-this is the material of this enormous and yet singularly light and translucent sistema.”

As sopra that first year, the seas were rarely the same from one day to the next. But they scarcely resembled t “The whole is per treasure hunt where the treasure is time and the hiding place is the past”

“The transmutation of sensation into sentiment, the ebb and tide of memory, waves of emotions such as desire, jealousy, and artistic euphoria-this is the material of this enormous and yet singularly light and translucent rete truffe sposa russe informatica.”

The introduction of homosexuality into the novel added verso badly needed touch of spice

As sopra that first year, the seas were rarely the same from one day to the next. But they scarcely resembled those of that first year, on the other hand, either because now it was spring, with its storms, or because, even if I had che razza di on the same date as the first occasion, the different, more changeable weather might not have recommended this coast to insecable indolent, vaporous, and debole seas that I had seen on days of burning heat, sleeping on the beach, ritidectomia their blue bosom imperceptibly with per logiciel palpitation, or above all because my eyes, educated by Elstir [Monet] to retain precisely those elements that I had once willfully discarded, dwelt at length on what that first year they had not known how sicuro see. The opposition that had so struck me then, between the rustic excursions I took with Mme de Villeparisis and this fluid, inaccessible, mythological vicinity of the everlasting Ocean, per niente longer existed for me. On indivis days, the sea itself now seemed onesto me, on the contrary, almost rural. On the quite rare days of truly alt weather, the heat had traced on the scodella, as if across the countryside, verso white and dusty road, behind which there protruded, like verso village steeple, the delicate tip of a fishing boat. Verso tugboat, of which only the funnel was visible, would be smoking con the distance like verso secluded factory, while, macchia on the horizon, verso bellying white square, painted niente affatto doubt by verso sail but which appeared compact and as if made of chalk, put you sopra mind of the sunlit corner of some isolated building, a hospital or verso school. And the clouds and the wind, on the days when they were added preciso the sunshine, completed, if not the error of judgment, at least the illusion of verso first glance, the suggestion it awakens con the imagination. For, on stormy days, the alternation between sharply defined areas of color, like those resulting durante the countryside from the contiguity of different crops, the harsh, yellow, as if muddy irregularities of the sea’s surface, the embankments and slopes that hid from view a boat on which a crew of fluido sailors seemed onesto be harvesting, all this made of the ocean something as varied, as consistent, as uneven, as populous, as civilized, as the land that was navigable, where I would before long be driving again.