Saturday, June 18, 2016

My Year With Proust - Day 177

"But natural history teaches us that such an organisation of animal life is indeed to be observed, and that our own life, provided we have outgrown the first phase, is no less positive as to the reality of sites hitherto unsuspected by us through which we have to pass, even though we abandon them later.  Such was for me this state of love divided among several girls at once, Divided, or rather undivided, for more often than not what was so delicious to me, different from the rest of the world, what was beginning to become so precious to me that the hope of encountering it again the next day was the greatest joy of my life, was rather the whole of the group of girls, taken as they were all together on those afternoons on the cliffs, during those wind-swept hours, upon the strip of grass on which were laid those forms, so exciting to my imagination, of Albertine, of Rosemonde, of Andree; and that without my being able to say which of them it was that made those scenes so precious to me, which of them I most wanted to love.  At the start of a new love as at its ending, we are not exclusively attached to the object of that love, but rather the desire to love from which it will presently arise (and, later on, the memory it leaves behind) wanders voluptuously through a zone of interchangeable charms - simply natural charms, it may be, gratification of appetite, enjoyment of one's surroundings - which are harmonious enough for it not to feel at a loss in the presence of any one of them.  Besides, as my perception of them was not yet fulled by familiarity, I still have the faculty of seeing them, that is to say of feeling a profound astonishment every time that I found myself in their presence."
Marcel Proust, Within a Budding Grove, p. 977

I've found the latter stages of Within a Budding Grove less moving, not that it doesn't contain some interesting segments and clearly essential foundational material.  All novels feature stretches, either intentional or unintentional, that do not fire the imagination of the reader.  Looking back on my notes in the book I find more simple vertical lines marking a section or brief notes such as "first appearance of . . ." or "Antisemitism as fashion" as compared to vertical marking lines combined with underlined passages and stars and scribbled notes such "nice metaphor - aquarium glass - fish/wealthy - later devoured" or "stupid decision not to go to Hong Kong" or "beauty + happiness vs. syntheses."  I think what I'm trying to say is that this stretch was important for moving the story along, but had fewer of those moments that immediately moved me to deep periods of self-reflection.  

Most of this section focused on Proust getting to know the troop of girls which included Albertine.  It is interesting to me that at the beginning he doesn't really know which one he loves, but that he's made up his mind that he will love one of them. It was "rather the whole of the group of girls, taken as they were all together on those afternoons on the cliffs, during those wind-swept hours, upon the strip of grass on which were laid those forms, so exciting to my imagination, of Albertine, of Rosemonde, or Andree; and that without my being able to say which of them it was that made those scenes so precious to me, which of them I most wanted to love." I always associate that more structured and almost scientific approach to love with women.  It is cruel joke that women are considered more romantic than men, because nothing is further from the truth.  When it comes to matters of the heart women are cold-hearted assassins.  Percy Sledge had it right when he sang When a Man Loves a Woman. However, it may well be that I'm just as guilty in this case of being cold-hearted.  It could also be completely true that Proust loved the moment and the place and, for that matter, the whole group, so much that he couldn't cull out the one he loved the most.  Of course, he will pick the wrong one, as is human nature.  As Flaubert reminds us, "Whatever else happens, we shall remain stupid."

Proust believed that there was an exclusivity that was central to love, but which didn't exist at the beginning or the end of a love affair. "At the start of a new love as at its ending, we are not exclusively attached to the object of that love, but rather the desire to love from which it will presently arise (and, later on, the memory it leaves behind) wanders voluptuously through a zone of interchangeable charms . . ."  This I believe is completely true.  At the beginning and end of an affair you fall back into a general desire for love as compared to love with that one person.

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