Proust???

WOW this text was hard to read. I found myself getting lost and having to re-read sections an embarrassing amount of times. As I mentioned in my introduction, I don’t pick up books written before the 1980s so staying attentive the whole time and trying to navigate Proust’s long, winding sentences within this book was hard. I think what allowed me to keep reading and not give up on this book was the way Proust talks about childhood and how even small, insignificant moments in our childhood can leave a deep, meaningful impact on our lives.

One moment from the text that stuck out for me was Proust’s desperation for a goodnight kiss from his mother. When looking at this moment from a more surface-level point of view, it seems insignificant and his frustration could even make you think, “Why does he care so much?” but Proust never diminishes his feelings. He does not write it off as being childish or dramatic but instead, he shows it as something that made him feel overwhelmed. I thought this portrayal was so real. It reminded me of how powerful emotions feel when you are younger, even when adults would consider a moment like this minor. I also related very strongly to his fear of being left alone with your thoughts at night because countless times, I have felt overwhelmed before I’ve fallen asleep and I find myself running through the course of my day in a million different ways like I could do something to change it when it has already happened.

The madeleine scene hit differently but almost just as strongly. When the narrator tastes the madeleine dipped in tea, he is almost immediately flooded with memories of Combray. He never actively tried to remember certain memories; they just came to him. The taste and feeling when he ate a bite of the madeleine unlocks something buried deep inside him. This feeling of a certain taste, emotion, sound, or even something you see evoking a memory inside you is something I think people experience way more often than you would think. For me, it reminds me of when I first landed in Vancouver for university and smelt the air. I know this sounds insane but for some reason the smell of the air in Vancouver reminds me so strongly of the years I spent in New Jersey when I was about five years old. There is no specific image or memory that comes to mind; I just feel comfort and nostalgia. It feels similar to what Proust describes and about how emotion arrives before memory does.

Even though I struggled with the pacing and style of this book, these two moments really stood out for me and made me understand what Proust was trying to do. He shows that childhood stays with us, not just in clear memories, but in feelings, habits, and sensations. For me, even though I feel like I barely understood what I read, this book was definitely worth it.