A Sort of Psychology in Space

 "And no doubt all these different planes, in relation to which Time, as I had grasped in the course of this party, arranged my life, by giving me the idea that in a book whose intention was to tell the story of a life it would be necessary to use, in contrast to the flat psychology people normally use, a sort of psychology in space, added a new beauty to the resurrections that had taken place in my memory while I was lost in my thoughts alone in the library, since memory, by bringing the past into the present without making changes to it. just as it was at the moment when it was the present, suppresses precisely this great dimension of Time though which a life is given reality."

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time (Finding Time Again)

OK, as my friend MK often opines, shit is getting real. Although I've read Proust several times, although the first time in this particular translation, I have to be honest in admitting that there are still times when he mystifies me - or at least it's better to say that I'm slowing, with each rereading and reflection, that I'm slowing honing in on his meaning. I guess when I think about it I come back to the notion that for Proust time and space are not separate, discrete entities, but rather influence each other, it not actually merge. 
Granted, everything is relative, but with Proust things are really relative. It's not completely Buddhist (with it being pointless to talk about the self since everything changes second to second), but rather that there is no fixed self, and that it evolves throughout time, and hence our understanding of reality and our place in it and thus meaning transforms over time. It's impossible to understand the self, and thus write a novel about the self, without taking into account this evolving/devolving psychological reality. OK, that's what I'm thinking today, ask me again tomorrow and I'll have a different answer.

This morning I finished my latest rereading of Proust, and I'm definitely looking forward to my next one. This may best be shown that as soon as I finished (my actual, beautiful, physical Penguin volumes) that I purchased Kindle copies of each of them, so that I'm not left without them. I mean, what would happen if the box of books I mail to Italy falls of the boat?