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Amsterdam : De Bezige Bij; 299 p, 20 cm; http://opc4.kb.nl/DB=1/PPN?PPN=239982134
User reviews
LibraryThing member rmagahiz
Although this is the one volume some have advised the casual reader of Proust to skip entirely when dipping into the series, it plays an important role in showing the Narrator sink to his lowest level. He has adopted all the mores of the upper classes while simultaneously engaging in activities
By this point (and really by the beginning of The Captive), Proust is almost completely done with introducing important characters, which I appreciated. Instead of the whirl of names at the salons and on trains and carriages earlier, he brings in a completely new setting in a country we haven’t visited before. It is effective, particularly during an episode where a mistransmitted telegram is mistaken for an apparent message from the dead woman.
At the end of this book we have the strange motif that Proust uses of having a turn toward homosexuality or bisexuality encapsulate the idea of a character’s ruination. The only exception is the Narrator himself, who remains steadfastly straight. This feels like a ground rule that Proust set up and refuses to break, making it hard to support a strictly autobiographical reading of the series.
There are also some fine stretches of writing here including some of the biting wit we have seen before. But the sections which spoke to me the most were the Narrator’s musings on what it is like to continue after the death of someone who once meant a lot to him. What does it say about our lives if friends become unrecognizable, if even love can die in one’s heart?
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they forbid. Deciding to live with Albertine was the one serious choice he made, at the end of Cities of the Plain, and now when obsessive jealousy and an atmosphere of secrets destroyed the basis of that relationship. When the sudden disappearance of his mistress Albertine becomes permanent, he sinks down into himself and is eft with emptiness. He has not been equipped to know where to look for something or someone that will give back to his life any kind of meaning in this world he no longer controls. In this state of mind, he observes the life changes of those in his circle, abrupt changes in fortune and status, and while he knows what they mean according to the code of the ancien régime, on another level he can also sense too keenly how insubstantial is their underlying foundation.By this point (and really by the beginning of The Captive), Proust is almost completely done with introducing important characters, which I appreciated. Instead of the whirl of names at the salons and on trains and carriages earlier, he brings in a completely new setting in a country we haven’t visited before. It is effective, particularly during an episode where a mistransmitted telegram is mistaken for an apparent message from the dead woman.
At the end of this book we have the strange motif that Proust uses of having a turn toward homosexuality or bisexuality encapsulate the idea of a character’s ruination. The only exception is the Narrator himself, who remains steadfastly straight. This feels like a ground rule that Proust set up and refuses to break, making it hard to support a strictly autobiographical reading of the series.
There are also some fine stretches of writing here including some of the biting wit we have seen before. But the sections which spoke to me the most were the Narrator’s musings on what it is like to continue after the death of someone who once meant a lot to him. What does it say about our lives if friends become unrecognizable, if even love can die in one’s heart?
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LibraryThing member P_S_Patrick
In this volume Proust's previous actions end with fitting resolution, with the captive of the last volume becoming the fugitive, and leaving him. The tone for a good part of this volume follows on from the previous one, with his jealousy and suspicion eventually bringing to surface some unexpected
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revelations, which are followed in the latter part of the book by other surprises, from elsewhere. Proust more or less comes to terms with his grief eventually, but fails to return to the quality of happinesses of the first couple of volumes, with the marriages of two of his once intimate friends provoking almost an attitude of indifference from him, showing perhaps his understandable weariness. Hopefully things will turn out better for him in the final volume. Show Less
LibraryThing member SeriousGrace
If The Fugitive was all about keeping Albertine hostage, The Sweet Cheat Gone is her escape. Albertine's departure sets the stage for volume six. Proust has this way of capturing obsession and grief in all their painful intricacies. You know that moment, right before coming fully awake when you
It is so cliché to say, but you really do not know what you have until it is gone. Proust's narrator is no different. He enjoyed hurting Albertine while she was in his possession, but upon hearing of her death he fixates on all the times he took her for granted or thought her company to be a nuisance. Her charms, her innocence was something to be scoffed at until she vanished. Now that he has lost her everything she touched (including "the pedals of the pianola she pressed with golden slippers") becomes all too precious. He knows he has abused her and admits as much in the way he describes her departure as flight, escape, gone, and on the run. His obsession grows worse when he thinks her dead. He couldn't even read newspapers because the mere act of opening and lifting one to his eyes brought back memories of Albertine doing the same.
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thinks maybe yesterday has all been some kind of horrible nightmare? But then remembrance brings back the horror with a vengeance. Yesterday's reality is today's truth. Proust's narrator is constantly remembering the times he bused Albertine's love. He couldn't tell her she reminded him of paintings of other female forms because he didn't want her to think of female nude bodies. His jealousies were that strong. After her departure, he is inconsolable; able to pick up his grief right where he left off before sleep; as if he had never closed his eyes. He repeatedly fixates on how to return the escaped Albertine back to him. If you don't believe me, count the times Albertine's name appears on every page. It got to the point where I wanted to please take this man out behind the barn and put him out of his misery.It is so cliché to say, but you really do not know what you have until it is gone. Proust's narrator is no different. He enjoyed hurting Albertine while she was in his possession, but upon hearing of her death he fixates on all the times he took her for granted or thought her company to be a nuisance. Her charms, her innocence was something to be scoffed at until she vanished. Now that he has lost her everything she touched (including "the pedals of the pianola she pressed with golden slippers") becomes all too precious. He knows he has abused her and admits as much in the way he describes her departure as flight, escape, gone, and on the run. His obsession grows worse when he thinks her dead. He couldn't even read newspapers because the mere act of opening and lifting one to his eyes brought back memories of Albertine doing the same.
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LibraryThing member leslie.98
I found this penultimate volume of Proust's series the fastest moving one yet. There is some musing and philosophizing by Marcel, as always, but there are also several exciting and/or surprising events.
LibraryThing member Cecrow
The opening pages of this volume are some of Proust's strongest in a while, as he examines the pain of a lost love, its component parts. How the triggers of memory are like other selves who must be informed and again grieve. How right he is, that in order to picture to itself an unknown situation
These are the stellar points. Plot-wise, I'm disgruntled. Taking ISOLT as a whole, this volume contains its climax, and yet all of the reflections upon it are turned inward while absolutely nothing is shown, dealt with too entirely offstage. In 150 pages or so of examining the relationship between grief and memory, I'm disappointed that the narrator hardly reflects at all on the consequence of his controlling jealousy. He even dares lay blame on its victim, for not have been open with him - for having resisted him too well, in other words. Could he be any more self-centered? The Venetian scenes are beautiful and I appreciated the shout-out to Ruskin, but the telegram he receives is almost maddening for how manipulated and deceived it made me feel, his reaction and the subsequent explanation too incredible. I did like the interesting reappearance of Gilberte and her related developments. It's a bumpier ride through these final volumes that Proust did not have full opportunity to smooth out, but still better than the alternative.
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the imagination borrows elements that are already familiar and, for that reason, cannot correctly picture it. A new experience inevitably brings with it a new sensation. At the other extremity is his statement about the power of forgetting as the only force successful enough to defeat love. The expression 'time heals all things' refers only to this factor: fading memory. The theme of death returns, and here is explored the torment of all the perpetual triggers of memory of someone you were close to - every different time of day, every location you visited or lived in together, every mutual acquaintance, the change in weather or the season - unforeseen reminders impossible to circumvent or hide from. Grief must be endured and seen through.These are the stellar points. Plot-wise, I'm disgruntled. Taking ISOLT as a whole, this volume contains its climax, and yet all of the reflections upon it are turned inward while absolutely nothing is shown, dealt with too entirely offstage. In 150 pages or so of examining the relationship between grief and memory, I'm disappointed that the narrator hardly reflects at all on the consequence of his controlling jealousy. He even dares lay blame on its victim, for not have been open with him - for having resisted him too well, in other words. Could he be any more self-centered? The Venetian scenes are beautiful and I appreciated the shout-out to Ruskin, but the telegram he receives is almost maddening for how manipulated and deceived it made me feel, his reaction and the subsequent explanation too incredible. I did like the interesting reappearance of Gilberte and her related developments. It's a bumpier ride through these final volumes that Proust did not have full opportunity to smooth out, but still better than the alternative.
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Language
Original publication date
1925
1919
ISBN
9023401433 / 9789023401438