I, who was acquainted with many Albertines in one person, seemed now to see many more again reposing by my side. Her eyebrows, arched as I had never noticed them, encircled the globes of her eyelids like a Halcyon's downy nest. Races, atavisms, vices reposed upon her face. Whenever she moved her head, she created a different woman, often one whose existence I had never suspected. I seemed to possess not one but countless girls. Her breathing, as it became gradually deeper, made her breast rise and fall in a regular rhythm, and above it her folded hands and her pearls, displaced in a different way by the same movement, like boats and anchor chains set swaying by the movement of the tide. Then, feeling that the tide of her sleep was full, that I should not run aground on reefs of consciousness covered now by the high water of profound slumber, I would climb deliberately and noiselessly on to the bed, lie down by her side, clasp her waist in one arm, and place my lips upon her cheek and my free hand on he heart and then on every part of her body in turn, so that it took was raised, like the pearls, by the breathing of the sleeping girl; I myself was gently rocked by its regular motion: I had embarked upon the tide of Albertine's sleep.
Marcel Proust, The Captive, p. 66
I suppose I should start off by apologizing for getting around to writing this post so late today. And then I guess I should also apologize for how abysmal it promises to be. And, finally, I throw in an apology for writing it at all. That said, when I started this mad mission I promised that I would write every day on Remembrance of Things Past until I finished it, and, oddly I do consider myself a man of my word. The problem is that I found out a couple hours ago that a great friend of mine passed away, which they seem to be doing with greater and greater urgency lately. Rula Quawas, from the University of Jordan, who I'd known for a dozen years or more - and who was the first international professor who understood what I was trying to accomplish with my Global Modules project, and who thus brought in UJ as a dedicated partner - apparently passed away unexpectedly. She was very important to me, and doubtless I'll include one or two posts just reflecting upon what she meant to me (and to so many others) and to celebrate her life.
So what do I want to say about Proust today? First off, I don't think that Rula would be appalled that I'm writing, because she was an academic and she especially loved literature. One of my favorite classes I ever taught at Champlain was an Arab Women Writers course that she had designed during her Fulbright year here; when the plans for her to stay a second year fell through I was asked to take over the class, and I was more than happy to follow her lead on the books she chose and the syllabus she constructed. So, she'd be happy that anyone, and especially her friend, was reading and talking about Proust.
This section sets up tomorrow's section, which I think is more interesting, so, truthfully, I wasn't planning on talking about this one in that great a depth anyway. What I'm coming back to is the opening line: "I, who was acquainted with many Albertines in one person, seemed now to see many more again reposing by my side." Feeling more than a little blue I had walked down to my friend Mike's house, knowing that I would be greeted with a friendly bear hug and a couple beers; plus, I wanted to tell him about Rula because he knew her as well. While talking things through Mike's wife Jamie told me that I should try and fly to Amman for the funeral. I found myself saying that it was a great idea, but that I didn't know much about it, and that truthfully I didn't know if she was Christian or a Muslim, which related to the plans because if she was a Muslim she'd be buried almost immediately, whereas if she were Christian the funeral might not be for a couple days. Essentially, what I was admitting was that I didn't know something this simple about a person who I called my friend. Part of that can be explained by the fact that I'm an American, and conversations about faith are often fraught with societal landmines, but also because I wasn't really a person of faith myself until recently so I'm sure I didn't broach the subject with her for the classic "reason" that secular folks are often less likely to ask questions like that than people of faith. But then I began to think, in the end, the question of her faith described only one of the "many [Rulas] in one person." I knew her as a passionate teacher and a devoted friend and a supportive colleague and an outspoken feminist in a part of the world that doesn't often celebrate that viewpoint and as a published scholar, and these were all Rulas that I knew and loved and respected, but there were also many other Rulas that I wish I had taken the time to discover.
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