Is Nadja the original manic pixie dream girl?

I have more and more difficulty following her monologue” (106)

My response to this quote: Likewise, Breton, likewise.

Navigating through the initial section of the book, an incessant cycle of philosophical perspectives on the self and the question of “who I am,” I saw myself in the aforementioned quote. A cause for this is actually a commonality between Breton and Proust: the utilization of long sentences. While I acknowledge the importance of extended sentences for conveying specific ideas or injecting structural diversity into prose, the occasional use of shorter sentences is also critical for readability.  A sentence like this. It just makes it easier to read! See, haven’t these last few sentences made my post easier to read? Haha anyways, once I eventually moved past Breton’s prolonged opening monologue and reached the segment where he encounters Nadja, my appreciation and comprehension of the book improved.

 That said, there were still some enjoyable bits from the first section that stood out to me. For instance, Breton’s depiction of being in a glass house, glass bed, under glass sheets, to reveal “who [he is],” offered a unique and visually metaphorical description of his confession (18). Further exploration of this concept of “confession” during the lecture video deepened my appreciation for this quote. The imagery of being in a glass bed and sheets resonated well with his writing about Nadja, symbolizing the privacy of a bed where dreams occur—a private part of his life akin to his time with Nadja where visions occurred.

In the section where he first encounters Nadja on page 64, I, like some classmates, interpreted Nadja through the modern character trope of a “manic pixie dream girl.” Despite the trope’s lengthy and amusing name, it is relevant to this text. Breton’s description of Nadja at their initial meeting reflects his infatuation, portraying her as quirky through her poor dressing and incomplete makeup. Nadja’s language and behaviour, especially on page 74, further contribute to her characterization as a manic pixie dream girl.

 Lastly, I found Breton’s perspective on institutions intriguing. His observation about how society “hurl[s] an individual among others whose association can only be harmful to him and, above all, systematically deprive[s] him of relations with everyone whose moral or practical sense is more firmly established than his own” is devastating. It struck me that, even a century later, our society operates similarly. I am curious what Breton would have to say about the evolution of institutions– would he be surprised by our lack of progress, or would it align with his expectations of the future? What do you all think? Further, “who are we” to have allowed this to happen and to allow it to persist?

“Light”… and me left in the dark — Combray 

“I did not understand half the words the lady said, but my fear that there was some question concealed in them which it would have been impolite of me not to answer made me keep on listening to them with close attention, and this made me very tired.” (80). 

This quote humorously sums up my experience with reading this book. Upon reading this line, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting Proust to be eyeing me, as he had conjured a line so eerily reflective of my own struggles with his work. From start to finish, particularly in the beginning, my notes were filled with “huh,” “look this up,” “re-read,” etc. I perpetually found myself playing catch-up with Proust’s ideas and scenes. Then, just as I’d get into the rhythm, Proust would abruptly shift into an entirely different situation. Aligning with this quote, worry would set in as I realized that merely scanning the words wouldn’t cut it—I had to truly understand the book. I needed to grasp the storyline, the themes, the concealed nuances alike to how the narrator needed to find the questions concealed. Then, after all 191 pages, I too feel thoroughly exhausted.

With that off my chest, I want to delve into some aspects of the book that I did enjoy and what made my reading more manageable. After watching the lecture and conversation, my confidence increased. Major themes like memory and time became guiding pillars, providing support when confusion overwhelmed me. Whenever I felt lost, I turned to these themes, analyzing each passage through their lenses. 

Something that caught my eyes was the extensive discussion of light. Whether emanating from a lamp, the sun, or the moon, illumination was a recurring theme (7, 65, 136). I wasn’t sure what to make of this, but when considering the overarching theme of memory, I realized it could connect to that. In a literal sense, light lets us see what’s in front of us. Metaphorically, memory allows us to see our past. I believe the consistency of light in the book aligns with the theme of memory. In this context, the Madeline acts as a lamp or the sun, serving as the device through which Proust illuminates his past (47). Throughout the book each time light was mentioned, I noticed that it seemed to bring light to new experiences, settings, and characters– just how memories bring our attention to the old. After considering the light in this way, I found myself on a sort of a scavenger hunt for words mentioning illumination or brightness, so that I could further my theory. This made my reading far more enjoyable!

I’m curious about your interpretations of Proust’s use of light in this text. Did his descriptions of a “black sun” (66) or “a wave of blue light” (181) prompt you to ponder a deeper meaning, as they did for me?

(Unrelated, but the character Léonie reminded me of a song called “Leonie” by Frankie Cosmos!)

Introduction

Hi everyone! I am Maya but I named this blog “Page Pioneer” to lean into the silliness I feel for some reason about running a blog. I am a psychology major and so I haven’t dappled in too many English courses in university, other than those for requirement. However, I enjoyed English class quite a bit in high school, always raising my hand and pondering on others’ ideas. That said, I am by no means a “reader” (as we discussed and contemplated in class). By that I mean that I almost never pick up a book because I want to read. Instead, the activity of reading is always instigated by school or some other external pressure. One reason for this is because I am a slow reader and an antsy one. I often find myself getting distracted by how I am sitting or some noise or light in the room. Often, I even get distracted by finding shapes in the negative space between words in the text, which may sound quite bizarre to some of you. Further, when I read, I find myself imagining the entire scene, painting out the backdrops and sculpting every crease in the characters before feeling engaged with the text. Due to this, it takes a great deal of time and imagination for me to finally get “lost” in prose. Furthermore, when I misread a line, I find myself circling on it for tens of minutes, or researching every word that puzzles me– even if it is one I am familiar with. When I do read though, I find that I quite enjoy it! The main huddle between me and becoming a “reader” is I lack the time to spare in my life to properly devote my attention and care to a novel the way that I want to.

My expectation for this course is that I will be reading… a LOT. I am prepared to read more in these next three months than I have in the last two or three years combined. Although this is daunting to me, I am quite exhilarated. I love how there is no pressure on my quality of interpretation or formulation of ideas, but that the course is structured solely on my consumption of the material. I am thrilled to dive into a genre I have not often read in, and especially from authors I may have never heard of. I am looking forward to getting to know everyone in the class, and all the characters and storylines in the books! Most of all, however, I am excited to become a “reader”!