My Years With Proust - Day 681

Perhaps also there was in the movements of the Baron that lack of co-ordination which follows upon maladies of the spinal column and the brain, so that his gestures went beyond anything that he intended.  What I myself saw in them was above all a sort of gentleness, an almost physical gentleness, and of detachment from the realities of life, phenomena so strikingly apparent in those whom death has already drawn within its shadow.  And the exposure of the veins of silver in his hair was less indicative of profound convulsions than this unconscious humility which turned all social relations upside down and abased before Mme de Saint-Euverte - as it would have abased before the mos vulgar of American hostesses (who at least would have been able to congratulate herself on the hitherto unattainable politeness of the Baron) - what had seemed to be the proudest snobbishness of all.  For the Baron still lived, still thought; his intellect was not impaired.  And more than any chorus of Sophocles on the humbled pride of Oedipus, more than death itself or any funeral oration on the subject of death, the humble greeting, full of effort to please, which the Baron addressed to Mme de Saint-Euverte proclaimed the fragile and perishable nature of the love of earthly greatness and all human pride.  M. de Charlus, who until this moment would never have consented to dine with Mme de Saint-Euverte, now bowed to the ground in her honour.

Marcel Proust, Time Regained, p. 892

When he finally makes it inside to the Guermantes party Marcel finds himself staring M. de Charlus and his humble greeting of Mme de Saint-Euverte, a woman who a few years earlier he would have arrogantly brushed aside.  Obviously, the world has changed, in more ways than one. Part of this relates to the Baron's growing infirmity, doubtless.  Proust tells us, "What I myself saw in them was above all a sort of gentleness, an almost physical gentleness, and of detachment from the realities of life, phenomena so strikingly apparent in those whom death has already drawn within its shadow." This description of the Baron could be any person any person "whom death has already drawn within its shadow."  I loved his use of the term "gentleness" to explain that moment, because it seems to perfectly capture my mother Mimi and my grandmother Maude in the last few months of their life.  Yes, it's a gentleness associated with the weakness brought on by extended illness, but to me it also speaks of an acceptance of death.  How often is violence a product of refusal, either positively or negatively, to accept a situation whereas gentleness is an acceptance, and in many ways an affirmation, of life? Proust paints a picture of the Baron humbled by life: "For the Baron still lived, still thought; his intellect was not impaired.  And more than any chorus of Sophocles on the humbled pride of Oedipus, more than death itself or any funeral oration on the subject of death, the humble greeting, full of effort to please, which the Baron addressed to Mme de Saint-Euverte proclaimed the fragile and perishable nature of the love of earthly greatness and all human pride." For some reason all of this reminds me of the Neil Young song Campaigner, which I just finished discussing in this week's Discography discussion.