Remembrance of Things Past: Swann's Way; Within a Budding Grove, Vol. 1 Book

Proust is unquestionably brilliant, although not for the lightminded reader by any means. I had no idea what I was getting into when I decided I needed to read this novel. It is made up of six enormously dense volumes. I've only made it through the first two, and honestly, I'm taking a break for a while. Each sentence is so well crafted and so full it takes minutes just to digest what it is you've finished reading. The minutest details of a split-second thought can have you reading for fifteen pages. You find yourself saying, "Yes, that's exactly what it feels like in my mind when I've thought through or felt something similar." It is as if Proust articulates every nuance of the physical, chemical, emotional, intellectual aspect of the generation and propogation of thoughts and feelings, things we never think through ourselves in words. In all the remarkable detail, unsurprisingly, there is very little plot, few events, and a fluid chrononlogy that erases the importance of distinction between the past, present, and future. Proust does not limit himself to the intricacies of emotion and thought. Music, it's essence and how and why it affects our minds, hearts, bodies, souls; Nature's landscape, in particular, flowers and their scent, shape, hue and relationship with humanity; Art and architecture; High society and low; Literature; Politics; Drama; Opera. With each detail as an entrance into the mind of man and woman, Proust dissects the interstices of human existence. Fascinating, but very slow and often overwhelming, this translation is said to be one of the best. Regretably but most deliberately, I didn't even attempt Proust in the original french.