Un amour de Swann

À la recherche du temps perdu #1.2

by Marcel Proust, Jean-Yves Tadié (Editor)

Ce court roman (deuxième partie de Du côté de chez Swann) contient tout ce qu'on aime lire : une peinture sociale, celle de l'immortel clan Verdurin et du cercle aristocratique de Mme de Saint-Euverte, dans les années 1880 ; une histoire d'amour et de jalousie, mettant en scène un dandy et une courtisane ; des réflexions sur l'art (peinture et musique) ; le comique et le tragique ; le passage du temps et le phénomène de mémoire involontaire ; enfin, un récit tout en analyse et des dialogues étincelants, et bien souvent hilarants. Proust a mis ici tout ce qu'il pense et sent sur l'amour. Roman qui condense toute la Recherche, confession intime cryptée, Un amour de Swann est un chef-d'oeuvre dont le sens est caché sous de multiples enveloppes, métamorphoses, synthèses et fusions - profondeur que n'épuise jamais la lecture.

Genres: Classics, France, Fiction, French Literature, Romance, Novels, 20th Century

384 pages, Pocket Book

First published January 1, 1913

About the author

Marcel Proust was a French novelist, best known for his 3000 page masterpiece À la recherche du temps perdu (Remembrance of Things Past or In Search of Lost Time), a pseudo-autobiographical novel told mostly in a stream-of-consciousness style.

Born in the first year of the Third Republic, the young Marcel, like his narrator, was a delicate child from a bourgeois family. He was active in Parisian high society during the 80s and 90s, welcomed in the most fashionable and exclusive salons of his day. However, his position there was also one of an outsider, due to his Jewishness and homosexuality. Towards the end of 1890s Proust began to withdraw more and more from society, and although he was never entirely reclusive, as is sometimes made out, he lapsed more completely into his lifelong tendency to sleep during the day and work at night. He was also plagued with severe asthma, which had troubled him intermittently since childhood, and a terror of his own death, especially in case it should come before his novel had been completed. The first volume, after some difficulty finding a publisher, came out in 1913, and Proust continued to work with an almost inhuman dedication on his masterpiece right up until his death in 1922, at the age of 51.

Today he is widely recognized as one of the greatest authors of the 20th Century, and À la recherche du temps perdu as one of the most dazzling and significant works of literature to be written in modern times.

Reviews

[Guille · Rating 4 out of 5]

¿Cuál es el verdadero objeto de nuestro amor, nos enamoramos de la persona, de la imagen que proyectamos sobre ella, del amor mismo? ¿Hasta qué punto un pasado amor, su imagen, sus gestos, influyen en nuestras inclinaciones y apetitos futuros? ¿Es posible que otras vivencias estéticas o emocionales intensas pueden determinar el objeto de nuestro amor?

No cabe duda de que los sentimientos y las emociones ligadas a hechos u objetos del pasado pueden conferir sentido a experiencias presentes que carecerían de él sin aquel recuerdo que nos marcó antaño. Y entre esas experiencias, el amor ocupa un lugar especialísimo, capaz de transformarnos, de hacernos otro, de modificar nuestros gustos, nuestros deseos, hasta nuestra forma de ser, de condicionar nuestra vida presente, de modificar la forma en la que nos relacionamos con nuestro entorno y hasta de gobernar nuestra vida amorosa futura.

Por otro lado, no es menos cierto, por muy lugar común que sea, que el amor nos ciega, nos bloquea todo lo que no nos confirma en él, nos impele patéticamente a tergiversar cualquier hecho que lo contradiga, pero también nos mantiene en un estado de sensibilidad morbosa y de permanente alerta, especialmente cuando en el amor se establece la sospecha otorgando a cualquier gesto, acto o palabra de la persona amada una significación muchas veces irreal, enrevesada y patológica.

Todo esto y mucho más nos expone el autor en una sucesión de frases larguísimas, laberínticas, como si cada una de ellas tuviera que contener todos y cada uno de los detalles que conforman cada una de las escenas y pensamientos narrados en este estudio del amor como enfermedad que es esta novela.

“Y aquella enfermedad que era el amor de Swann había proliferado tanto, se había entreverado de forma tan estrecha a todos los hábitos de Swann, a todos sus actos, a su pensamiento, a su salud, a su sueño, a su vida, incluso a lo que deseaba para después de su muerte, formaba hasta tal punto un todo con él, que ya no habría sido posible arrancársela sin destruirle casi por entero: como se dice en cirugía, su amor ya no era operable.”

Para ello, Proust elige a Charles Swann, un señor elegante, culto y de gustos tan exquisitos en el arte como ordinarios en los asuntos de cama, un adinerado caballero que tiene abiertas todas las puertas de la gran sociedad y en la que son muy respetados sus criterios estéticos. En frente tendrá a Odette de Crécy, una mujer experimentada, una cocotte interesada, frívola y ordinaria, que primero le perseguirá con mimos y halagos para después utilizarle y humillarle sin miramiento alguno.

“Hasta entonces, como muchos hombres en quienes el gusto por las artes se desarrolla independientemente de la sensualidad, había existido una extraña disparidad entre las satisfacciones que concedía al uno y a las otras, gozando, en compañía de mujeres cada vez más ordinarias, de las seducciones de obras cada vez más refinadas.”

Así, con una prosa barroca, poéticamente bella, repleta de metáforas y símiles, de descripciones, acotaciones y digresiones, con un moroso desmenuzamiento psicológico de cada acto, pensamiento y sentimiento de Swann, vamos asistiendo a todas las fase de su amor por Odette: su indiferencia inicial, el rejuvenecimiento que el surgimiento del amor le provoca, el vuelco de todo su mundo en el habitado por Odette, por muy vulgar que antes le pareciera, el abandono que sufre por parte de Odette, el desconsuelo por no poseerla y la terrible angustia de los celos en la que hasta los gestos de cariño recibidos en el pasado se convierten en fuente de dolor al imaginarlos destinados a otros.

“Las mentiras que por él ha dicho a otros se convierten en mentiras que por otros también le fueron dirigidas a él.“

El famoso poder evocador de los sentidos, para siempre asociado a la mil veces comentada anécdota de la magdalena, tiene aquí una importancia crucial, tanta o más que toda la evolución del amor descrita. Empezando con ese momento decisivo que marca el inicio de la pasión por Odette, una mujer por la que no experimentaba atracción física o sentimental alguna, cuando descubre en uno de sus gestos un asombroso e inesperado parecido con la admirada Séfora de Boticelli en un fresco de la Capilla Sixtina.

“Su deseo siempre se había orientado en sentido opuesto a sus gustos estéticos. La expresión «obra florentina» prestó un gran servicio a Swann. Como un título, permitió a la imagen de Odette penetrar en un mundo de sueños, al que hasta entonces no había tenido acceso y en el que se impregnó de nobleza. Y, mientras la visión puramente carnal que había tenido de aquella mujer, renovando continuamente sus dudas sobre la calidad del rostro, del cuerpo, de toda su belleza, debilitaba su amor, aquellas dudas quedaron disipadas, aquel amor se afianzó cuando en su lugar tuvo por base los datos de una estética cierta; sin contar con que el beso y la posesión, que parecían naturales y mediocres si eran concedidos por una carne ajada, viniendo a coronar la adoración de una pieza de museo le parecieron que debían de ser sobrenaturales y deliciosos.”

Hay muchos más ejemplos de este poder evocador de sentimientos que surgen al volver a ciertos lugares, o al escuchar un nombre, una palabra o una expresión, como esa de hacer cataleya, con la que los amantes se requerían sexo. Pero de entre todas ellas cabe resaltar la referida a la frase musical tantas veces mencionada en el relato.

“En cuanto la oía, la pequeña frase sabía liberar en su interior el espacio que necesitaba, y las proporciones del alma de Swann se veían alteradas; en ella quedaba reservado margen para un goce que tampoco correspondía a ningún objeto exterior y que, sin embargo, lejos de ser puramente individual como la del amor, se imponía a Swann como una realidad superior a las cosas concretas. Esa sed de un encanto desconocido la despertaba en él la pequeña frase, pero sin aportarle nada preciso para saciarla. De modo que aquellas partes del alma de Swann donde la pequeña frase había borrado la preocupación por los intereses materiales, las consideraciones humanas y válidas para todos, las había dejado vacías y en blanco, y él era libre para inscribir ahí el nombre de Odette.”

En fin, Un amor de Swann ha sido mi entrada en la literatura proustiana, una entrada afortunada que inmediatamente ampliaré con la lectura completa de la novela Por el camino de Swann, de la que esta forma parte, y que es el primer título de los siete que componen el ciclo de En busca del tiempo perdido.

[Manny · Rating 5 out of 5]

[From Combray]

I've just posted a LARA version of Un amour de Swann, built using the same methods as with Combray out of a public domain audiobook taken from LitteratureAudio and parallel French and English text taken from Gutenberg. This gives a total of about 19 hours of Proust in LARA form. The scripts still need more work, but they're starting to get there: Combray took three weeks and a substantial revision of the code, Un amour de Swann a few days and some minor bug fixing. Coming next, Noms de pays : le nom and then A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs. By the time we get to Le temps retrouvé, I hope everything will be quite stable.

There is a good deal of editing and quality control involved. If you're interested in contributing to this project, please leave a comment or PM me!
________________________________

I finished rereading it in the new multimedia format, and, as with Combray, I was astonished to see how much more I appreciated it this way. It becomes clear that, even for people who fancy themselves as connoisseurs of Proust, we tend to underestimate just how complex and subtle a writer he is. It helps a great deal to be able to read the French text while simultaneously getting the viewpoints of a French person who's spent a lot of time thinking about how she should read it aloud, and an English person who's spent a lot of time thinking about how he would say it in his language. Both of them quite frequently made obvious mistakes: as noted, Proust is very challenging. But much more frequently, they showed me things I'd missed on previous readings.

Starting with what the book is about. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'd somehow acquired the idea that it's about jealousy. It isn't. It's about the nature of the mind.

[TBV (on hiatus) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whilst there is so much that I love about this novella, it is Swann’s growing awareness of the power and beauty of music that particularly enchanted me. And as his love for this music grows, so does his love and obsession for Odette. Music is interwoven throughout their tale.

At first it is a tentative awareness:
”The year before, at a soirée, he had heard a piece of music played on piano and violin. At first, he had enjoyed only the physical quality of the sounds produced by the instruments. And then he had felt a great pleasure when, beneath the delicate line of the violin, slender but persistent, compact and commanding, he had suddenly seen, struggling to rise in a sort of liquid swell, the solid mass of the piano-part, multiform but indivisible, smooth yet tumultuous, like the deep blue restlessness of the waves when charmed and softened by moonlight.”

And here we see the music perhaps mirroring to some extent his relationship with Odette:
”How beautiful was the dialogue Swann heard between the piano and the violin at the beginning of the last section! The suppression of human speech, far from letting fantasy reign there, as one might have thought, had eliminated it; never had spoken language been subject to such rigid necessity, never had it known such pertinent questions, such irrefutable answers. At first the piano alone lamented, like a bird abandoned by its mate; the violin heard it and responded, as from a nearby tree. It was as at the beginning of the world, as if there were as yet only the two of them on the earth, or rather in this world removed from everything else, constructed by the logic of its creator so that there would never be more than the two of them: the world of this sonata. Was it a bird, was it the soul of the little phrase, not yet fully formed, was it a fairy — this creature invisibly lamenting, whose plaint the piano tenderly repeated? Its cries were so sudden that the violinist had to snatch at his bow to gather them up. Marvellous bird! The violinist seemed to want to charm it, tame it, capture it. Already it had passed into his soul, already the violinist’s body, truly possessed, was shaking like a medium’s with the presence of the little phrase. Swann knew it was going to speak one more time. And he had so completely divided himself in two that the wait for the imminent moment when he would find himself confronting it again made him shudder with one of those sobs which a beautiful line of poetry or a sad piece of news wrings from us, not when we are alone, but when we repeat them to friends in whom we can see ourselves as another person whose probable emotion affects them too. It reappeared, but this time to remain suspended in the air and play there for a moment only, as though motionless, before dying. And so Swann concentrated intently on this brief extension of its life. It was still there, like an iridescent bubble floating by itself. Like a rainbow, whose brilliance weakens, fades, then returns, and before dying away altogether, glows for a moment more gloriously than ever: to the two colours it had so far allowed to appear, it added others, chords of every hue in the prism, and made them sing.”

[Cheryl · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's not too often that you read retrospective narration in a novel and you don't meet the first-person narrator until after more than ten pages in. Only an expert writer creates a portrait of words to keep you fully invested even as you meander periodic sentences and inverted sentence structures.

People are usually so unimportant to us that, when we have given one of them such great powers to make us suffer and give us joy, they seem to us to belong to another universe, they are surrounded by poetry, they turn our life into an emotional field in which they will be alternately near and far from us.

Sure, I've read Swann’s Way and once you've read it, you've read of Swann in Love . I walked into a bookstore, determined to buy Within a Budding Grove, as I prepared to continue my marathon of reading Proust (for we know that exploring Proust is no sprint). However, I found myself captivated by this translation as I leafed through it. Choosing a Proust translation is also something to be done in person, and I'm in love with this translation by Lucy Raitz. As an aside, can we talk about the many confusing versions of titles in these Volumes?

I'm sure we all have experienced a friend like Swann, the one enamored by the thrills of constant dating and casual affairs; that person who has this flawed idea of a dating "type" so that their dating life becomes shallow and surface, filled with beautiful people, perhaps, but more so, short-lived or dramatic relationships. How often do we see that friend obsessed with the wrong person?

Of all the ways in which love is engendered, of all the carriers that spread the sacred malady, one of the most efficient is surely that great rush of emotion that sweeps over us. Then the die is cast: the person whose company we are enjoying at that moment will be the one with whom we fall in love. They will not even necessarily have been more admired, or even as admired as others, until that moment; what was needed was for our inclination for them to become exclusive.

Swann is in love and obsessed. How often does one forget self-worth in the name of love? Imagine casting aside personal accomplishments, imagine dimming your light for undeserving, unrequited love. It happens too frequently, and it happened to Swann. This novel highlights the illusions of love, how an ordinary person can be transformed into a piece of art when we love them, and how that same piece of art doesn't look that special when our love canvas or love framing is no longer supporting it.

...and love is so inclined to seek its own vindication and an assurance that it will last in pleasures that, conversely, were it not there, would not be pleasurable and that will end when it does...

Ah Proust, you've done it again. You've lured me with your clever retrospective narrative, elegant sentences, and piercing observations of desire and self-delusion. I'm realizing I get suckered into themes more with novels. This is a worthwhile standalone to read if you're a Proust novice testing the waters. Perhaps I'll add Within a Budding Grove to my collection soon as I make my way through the volumes. For now, I'll bask again in the illusion of Swann in love.

[Voja · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pesnik Marko Tomaš u poemi "Pismo Venjički" reče da ne veruje u ljubav jer je "ona crna, strašna, velika, konačna kao smrt." Tim stihovima bih ukratko opisao ovaj roman. Ljubav je mit, iluzija. Crna kao i svaka iluzija koja izgubi sjajnu masku snoviđenja. Strašna zbog dodatnog prtljaga, sitnih sastojaka, poput ljubomore, koji čine celu sliku. U njenoj veličini i konačnosti, pak, krije se ono zbog čega joj se Prust, i pored negativnih posledica, divi. Jer život ne mora - a možda i ne može(?) - biti lep. Ali može, i mora, biti ispunjen, ako težimo ka tome da bude smislen. Ona, tako velika i konačna, ispunjava čoveka, bilo patnjom, bilo srećom.
A tu je i umetnost koju Prust toliko veliča da je ljubav prema istoj video kao simbiozu smilsa - ljubav i umetnost. Čak, štaviše, izjednačio ih je, što će reći da rađanje ljubavi i umetničkog dela funkcionišu po istom principu.
S druge strane, kao motiv se provlači pitanje klasne razlike, te indirektno kritikovanje, kako aristokratije, tako i onih koji su izgoreli u želji da to budu.

[Stefan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rating: 4.5

It's something that we all feel, but this gentle soul managed to write it down and left it to the world, something between the writer and the reader, falling in and falling out of love and all the sayings and doings in between.

[Fearless · Rating 4 out of 5]

Su ana kadar böyle büyüleyici cümleler okumadim desem yeridir.

Swannlarin Tarafindaki hikayenin Marcel'in agzindan anlatilmadan yazilmis versiyonu diyebiliriz. Yine buyuleyiciydi ama Odette'le evlendiğini biliyoruz bununla ilgili farkli birseyler de okumak isterdim. Belki diger kitaplarda devam edecegindendir ama sadece ayni seylerin icerigi olusturmasi hayal kirikligina ugratmadi degil.

[Argos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Marcel Proust veya 6 ciltlik “Kayıp Zamanın İzinde” denilince edebiyat dünyasında akan sular duruyor, arkasından “Proust okumak kolay değil” klişesinin gelmesi ise çok olası. Bu nedenle Proust’la bu kısa romanıyla (6 cildin ilkinin ikinci bölümü) buluşmayı uygun buldum.

Evet Proust çok özel, usta bir yazar, tanımlamaları, uslubu, kurgulamaları mükemmel, felsefi düşüncelerini kağıda aktarışına şapka çıkarılır. Bu romanda da Verdurin’ler ve çevresindeki “müritlerim” dediği bir grup insanın oluşturduğu topluluğun ya da “klanın” yaşadıklarını anlatmış Proust. 19. yy Paris’inde aristokratlık ile büyük burjuvalık arasında sıkışıp kalmış “yüksek sosyete” mensubu bu klanı anlatırken hayran kalınacak resim sanatı ve klasik müzik bilgisini de okurla paylaşıyor.

Ama hepsi bu kadar, romanın konusu (yoksa içeriği mi demeliyim) çok sıradan, basit, defalarca dile getirilmiş, yaratıcılık taşımayan bir konu; aşk, kıskançlık, hayal kırıklığı, sonra tekrar aşk, kıskançlık, hüzün, roman böyle gidiyor. Bir “Madam Bovary” den, bir “Beyaz Gecelerden” daha iyi aşk romanı değil bence. Dolayısıyla romanın konusu Proust’u aşağıya çekiyor. Yazar olarak 5 yıldızlık bu kitap konu olarak 1 yıldızlık, ortalaması 3 yıldız oluyor. Ayrıca psikolojik tahlilleri sevenler için de 5 yıldızlık bir yazar olduğunu düşünüyorum.

Kısaca, Proust okumayı gözüm kesmiyordu şimdi gönül rahatlığıyla okumayacağıma karar verdim.

[Miloš Lazarević · Rating 5 out of 5]

5/5🌟!

Pišite ako imate drukčije utiske, ali čitanje Prusta je zaista kao posmatranje filigranski savršeno odrađenih detalja na nekoj skulpturi koja nas, nečim tajanstvenim i neprozirnim, izaziva i pobuđuje u nama obnovu ne samo estetskog, već i čula vremena. Zapravo, i jedno i drugo, u čudesnoj sublimaciji, postaju neki još uvek nenastali, potencijalni svet; kakva samo skicama stvarna pričina gde najviše vide oni koji su slepi, najbolje govore oni što ne kažu ništa.

Njegovo opisivanje Odetinog lica, do tada još nepoljubljenog koje će, poljupcem, postati sasvim novo, zaista je jedna rečenična skulptura i hodam, na prstima i sa skinutim šeširom ( ,,Čarobni breg", Tomas Man) među propilejima, ne dišem i trudim se da koraci ne ostavljaju nikakav zvuk, iz čistog straha da bi se sve to moglo urušiti, nestati.

[Александра · Rating 5 out of 5]

Љубав и музика (успут и неке друге врсте уметности) овде су нераздвојне, две близнакиње и пријатељице, два главна јунака овог романа. Пруст је настајање једног музичког дела повезао са заљубљивањем, и можда је то раније неком другом такође пало на памет, али свакако нико никада није описао ту замисао тако величанствено као овај писац.

Ко је овде грешан, а ко добар, није толико важно, јер је књига више ,,о љубави" него ,,љубавна", и то о љубави која није грандиозна, једна у милион, права, посебна и вечна. Она је крајње једноставна, устаљених етапа и пролазна. Дакле, онаква какву ју је скоро свака особа на овој планети доживела. Да смо савршени или макар бољи него што јесмо, можда би било више бајковитих романси, али у овом Паризу не постоји Дизниленд, иако сваки његов салон шљашти од раскоши и богатства. Оно што не сија јесу сви ликови који се безбрижно и опуштено шећкају по тим великим кућама и још већим дворчевима. Њима не помаже ни добар укус за музику и сликарство, као ни много других знања из различитих области, кад им је душа осакаћена.

У ових 250 страна доказано је да време све лечи и да кроз године све прође, ма како ружно или лепо то нешто било. Ни ми нисмо нешто што смо били јуче, а сутра ко зна шта доноси. Наше је да учимо на грешкама, али и живимо, живимо пуним плућима као да реч ,,бол" никад није била у нашем видокругу. Једино у сну стара осећања нас вијају и подсећају да смо само људи од крви и меса, некад јаки, некад слаби.

[Manny · Rating 5 out of 5]

For the Celebrity Death Match Review Tournament, Hamlet (4) versus À la recherche du temps perdu (29)

[A bar in Elsinore. HAMLET is slumped in front of a large collection of empty glasses]

HAMLET:

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

[SWANN has entered]

SWANN:

Girl trouble?

HAMLET:

Aye.

SWANN:

Ifaith, I guessed 'twere so.

[to himself]

C'est curieux! Pourquoi je parle anglais?
N'importe.

[turning back to HAMLET]

Well coz. Why don't you tell me more?

HAMLET:

Ophelia, that stupid, wanton bitch.
Why did she let me shag her? Why? Why? Why?

SWANN:

They're often like that, friend. Boy, I should know.
I've got one of my own. Her name's Odette.

HAMLET:

Another slag?

SWANN:

Yeah, too damn right she is.
Lesbian tendencies and all that crap.
It makes me bleeding sick to think on it.

HAMLET:

I'm sorry, Swann. Hey, have another drink.

SWANN:

I thank you kindly. Here's to manly love.

[They toast]

What is there to be done? Nothing, I fear.
Well, I must off. I have a date with Death.

HAMLET:

Me too! A shame we did not meet before.
We have a lot in common, I would say.

SWANN:

Too bad. Oh well, let's have one for the road.
And then depart.

[They down their drinks and make to leave]

REFEREE:

But wait! Who's won the bout?

SWANN:

It matters not. Why don't we toss a coin?

[He notices ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN at a nearby table. There is a coin on it]

Good fellows, may I borrow that a sec?

HAMLET:

Sounds fine to me. Alright: you toss, I'll call.

[SWANN tosses the coin. ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN frantically mime to HAMLET that he should call heads, but HAMLET doesn't notice.]

HAMLET:

Tails! Oh, it's heads. Okay, I'll go die first.
Ah, best of luck in this sad vale of tears.

[He clasps SWANN's hand and exits right. ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN run after him. SWANN is left standing alone]

SWANN:

I've had enough of this unholy mess.
Well, guess I'll say adieu to the Duchesse.

[He exits left. The BARTENDER arrives and begins collecting their empty glasses]

CURTAIN

[Janelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was hoping I’d enjoy this more,I’ve never read Proust before. The story of Swann and his obsessive love for Odette (neither his class or in the end even his type!) coincides with his obsessive love for a piece of music. Jealousy, art, snobbery, class and some humour made this an interesting read for me.

[Fatbardha Smona · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nga gjithë mënyrat sesi shfaqet dashuria, nga gjithë faktorët e përhapjes së kësaj sëmundjeje të shenjtë, njëri nga më të efektshmit është afsh i madh tronditës që na pushton nganjëherë. Në këtë rast, ne biem në dashuri me atë person, shoqëria e të cilit na pëlqen në ato çaste, këtë s'e tund as topi. Madje nuk është as nevoja që ai të na ketë pëlqyer, deri në atë moment, më shumë ose po edhe aq sa të tjerët. Është e domosdoshme që dëshira jonë për të ndenjur bëhet e papërmbajtshme. Dhe ky kusht përmbushet kur në çastin që ne e ndjejmë mungesën e tij në vend që të kërkojmë kënaqësinë që na jepte ai me pëlqimin e vet përjetojmë papritmas një nevojë gjithë ankth që ka për synim vetë personin në fjalë, një nevoj�� absurde, që ligjet e kësaj bote nuk të japin mundësi ta plotësosh dhe të pengojnë të shërohesh nga dhembja që të jep ajo nevojën e çmendur e të dhembshme për ta kthyer atë në pronë vetiake.

[Zosia · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you feel intimidated by or are not sure about starting Proust’s monumental In Search of Lost Time, like I was, Swann in Love is a perfect way to get introduced to his prose and thus make up your mind if that’s an author for you. The text is actually a part of Swann’s Way (the first volume of In Search of Lost Time) but can be read as a perfect standalone novella. It’s not a plot-based story but instead a circular, stream-of-consciousness study on love as a fluid, memory-triggered state of mind and its relation to art, especially music, all set against the backdrop of fin de siècle France.

The writing instantly made me think of Virginia Woolf, which I love – rewarding but demanding some focus and time. I don’t think Proust’s writing is for everyone, but it definitely worked for me and I cannot wait to dive into the famous 7-volume series next. I’ve read the new translation by Lucy Raitz (coming out later this year as Deluxe Edition by Pushkin Press) which I found very readable and engaging. 5 out of 5 stars for me.

Thank you to NetGalley and Pushkin Press for the e-ARC.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

I know Proust is supposed to be amazing - maybe reading in the original french was just too much because it's discouragingly dense - the text just goes on and on with extremely rare paragraph markings. The thing about Proust is that he really goes into such minute detail - sometimes it's interesting and insightful, sometimes it seems rambling and irrelevant.

He does a great job of character development and a surprisingly realistic description of the details of human behavior and thinking, but it's marred by the fact that the characters are unlikeable, at least for me. It's hard for me to enjoy a book when I don't like the main characters. It may be a crime against French literature, but I have to say this was just alright.

[Marcello S · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sinceramente, che gli vuoi dire a Proust?

Ok, a volte la prende un po' alla larga.
E Swann e Odette sono così indolenti che ogni tanto due testate gliele daresti per risvegliarli.
Pero, dai, livelli altissimi.

Non ero molto convinto. E invece. [82/100]

“E come, accingendosi a baciare Odette per la prima volta, aveva cercato di imprimersi nella memoria il viso ch’ella aveva avuto per tanto tempo ai suoi occhi e che il ricordo di quel bacio stava per trasformare, così ora, allo stesso modo, gli sarebbe piaciuto, almeno nel pensiero, essere riuscito a dire addio, mentre ancora esisteva, a quella Odette che gli ispirava amore, gelosia, a quella Odette che lo faceva soffrire e che adesso non avrebbe rivisto mai più.”

[Pia G. · Rating 4 out of 5]

swann'ın odette'e duyduğu aşk, hayranlıkla başlarken zamanla tutkulu bir aşka, ardından da acı veren bir saplantıya dönüşüyor. swann’ın duygularındaki iniş çıkışlar, kendini kandırışı, göz göre göre gerçeklerden kaçışı beni nedense öfkelendirdi.

proust’un dili beklediğim kadar korkutucu değildi. cümleleri uzun ve sabır istese de, o uzun cümlelerin içinde bir hissin, bir düşüncenin evrilişine tanık olmak hayranlık verici.

kitap, benim için 'kayıp zamanın izinde' yolculuğunun ilk adımı oldu. henüz tüm serüvene cesaretim olmasa da, içimde çoktan bir kapı aralandı bile..

[milica · Rating 3 out of 5]

“…ali ono što znamo, mi to bar držimo, ako ne u rukama, onda bar u mislima, gde to raspoređujemo po svojoj volji, što nam stvara iluziju o nekoj vlasti nad tim.”

[Carl Lavigne · Rating 3 out of 5]

french fuckboy gets mad his girlfriend is bi

[Katerina · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a definition of love in 200 pages, and then you realize that the object is of no importance, only the subject itself.

[Spasa Vidljinović]

Pamtiću knjigu najviše po kritici francuskog društva i zanimljivim opisima psiholoških stanja likova, od govora njihovog tela do načina prikrivanja pravog mišljenja o nekom pitanju. Prust je odlično opisao različite karaktere i maske koje ljudi stavljaju kad su u društvu drugih jedinki.

Kroz veliki deo romana oseća se odjek Francuske revolucije iz 1789. godine, lomova koji su posledica svih tih dešavanja. Konkretnije, razlikovanje aristokratskih od buržoaskih slojeva, iskompleksiranost pojedinaca, jer ne nose plemićki pedigre i sujetnost drugih jer smatraju da su zbog toga bolji. Kritička žaoka je usmerena na površnost, malograđanštinu i taj hohštapleraj koji okružuje protagonistu Svana. Meni je ostalo urezano u pamćenju ponižavanje Sanijeta, blagog čoveka sa govornom manom od strane njegovog zeta i odsustvo reakcije prisutnog okruženja.

Radnja romana se vrti oko odnosa Svana, čoveka iz aristokratskih krugova, sa Odetom, ženom čija prošlost skoro do kraja romana ostaje njemu velika nepoznanica. Mislim da je Prust svu svoju kreativnost iskazao oslikavajući Svanova osećanja - zaljubljenost, strepnju, grozničava iščekivanja da vidi voljenu osobu. Otkrivajući polako Odetinu pravu prirodu, Prust pokazuje svoje razumevanje složenih odnosa i pojedinačnih patnji kako čoveka tako i žene.

U oči mi upada situacija negde pri kraju romana, kad iz jedne situacije gde dolazi u svoje, aristokratsko okruženje i sluša muziku, naglo prelazi u uobičajenu svakodnevnicu, patnju za Odetom, bez nekog većeg objašnjenja. Čitajući o Prustu, našao sam da je on bio pristalica Bergsonove koncepcije vremena, pa možda zato takvi preskoci. Ovakav utisak još više pojačavaju dugačke rečenice, sa upadicama, gde kao da se u silnim opisima pomalo gubi glavna nit priče. Stoga, knjigu bi trebalo u nekim delovima izuzetno pažljivo čitati, onda se dobija potpunost narativa i Prustovog umeća pisanja.

[Catherine Vamianaki · Rating 5 out of 5]

Για όσους έχουν αγαπήσει ή ερωτευτεί στην ζωή τους με πάθος. Ο Σουάν μας δείχνει πως μια αγάπη μπορεί να αλλάξει τον άνθρωπο, σε σημείο που να δικαιολογεί το ταίρι του...
Επίσης, το ψέμα, η προδοσία, καταστρεφει μια σχέση. Πολλοί απο μας ζήσαμε μια έντονη σχέση και το βιβλίο ίσως μας θυμίσει δικές μας στιγμές.
Ο Προυστ το έγραψε το 1913.

[H.A. Leuschel · Rating 4 out of 5]

J'ai récemment décidé de relire Proust pour voir à quel point ma lecture a probablement changé avec l'age. Le style de Proust est unique et captivant - par moment hypnotisant et dans un autre temps épuisant (les longues phrases de réflexions résultant dans des paragraphes qui semblent interminables). Il demande beaucoup d'attention aux lecteurs, beaucoup de patience et détermination, récompensées par un récit qui est fidéle aux pensées de l'écrivain et fascinant dans ses descriptions fluides.

[Kirstine · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got through this fueled primarily by frustration.

It's the second part of Swann's Way and truly a beautiful, poignant piece of literature. Others have pointed out that, were you to remove if from the context of 'In Search of Lost Time' it could nearly - if not completely - stand on it's own as a novella. Which, as a reader, was the problem. It felt removed from the story that was presented in part one of Swann's Way, which was a genuine pleasure to read, because it goes from the narrator's (we'll call him Marcel, because that's what one does) story, to the love story of Charles Swann and Odette.

And, ah, it's brilliant of course, but so frustrating, because, honestly, Swann is being an IDIOT. In these books what's presented as love, is not what I'd, in any way, call actual, true love. It isn't healthy, it's an obsessive, jealous, dishonest, threatening, unhealthy love. However, the 'point' of Swann's love story is (spoiler alert) that it mirrors various love-liasons that other people, and especially Marcel have throughout the entire work.

Still, while reading I was so mad at Swann, for not letting Odette go, for not leaving her artful face in the dust, for putting up with her antics, I was mad at both of them for being so goddamned stupid. But that's the power of love, I suppose, especially corrupted love. We can delude ourselves in the most ridiculous ways, if given enough time to rationalize.

The mirror effect of this second part, Swann's love story, doesn't hit you until the next book, where you find yourself circling back, either from a slight push by the narrator or on your own, to the story of Swann and Odette, who set a love precedent that Marcel may or may not break free from in the end (I wouldn't know, I haven't gotten that far yet, but the way love is described in the next volumes I bet it will not be a happy ending to his love story).

The second part of Swann's Way is also where we first come across Proust's immense skill at describing and setting up social encounters, his way of describing the salon (is that the english word?) at the Verdurins, which serves both as the setting for Swann and Odette falling in love, but also as a way to pit characters against each other, to uncover flaws, conflicts and secrets, to put the weaknesses of everyone on display.

And, lastly, there's the power music has of laying bare hidden depths within the mind of man, spilling out devastating truths. The unlocking of memories through art. And art plays a prominent role in all the volumes, it's, in a lot of ways, the heart of the story.

The further I get in 'In Search of Lost Time', the more volumes I put behind me, the more I appreciate this part of the story, as a mirror of the future, a small version of what's to come. And my frustrating leaves me bit by bit, I may re-read this particular volume in the future, to appreciate it free of wrath.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was very hard work and I’m sure would not have been finished, were I not determined to beat some sense out of those endless sentences, containing similes like so many butterflies landing on leaves, or flowers, or maybe like animals which wandered past, deer and rabbits, reminding me of my love for Odete at every turn, the brown fur like the muff she carried when she was with the Verdurins at the Jardin, after she stopped allowing me to visit her, how tired I was, so very tired of her perfidy, with whom was she spending her evenings now, now that she was no longer mine, the duration of my suffering surely must soon end, when I remember I must read this book for my book group so as not to appear foolish in the eyes of my co-readers and then, at the end, to find neither literary co-host has actually read this translation, though setting it for us lowly readers who seek only enlightenment at the door of Proust.

Well, it was a slog but I quite enjoyed it when I determined it was an academic exercise in completing a task. I might even read it again now I know that almost nothing will happen, very slowly, for a long time, then suddenly years will go by in a couple of pages. The translation must have been a labour of love.

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

Free download available at Project Gutenberg

I made the proofing of this book for Free Literature and Project Gutenberg will publish it.

[Rubi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ay, un libro intenso donde los haya. Realmente he terminado con él y se me ha escapado un suspiro. Me llevo muchas impresiones, reflexiones, frases... En cierto modo toda la historia me ha dejado con el corazón en un puño, pero pienso ¡qué fácil es juzgar desde fuera, qué ciegos parecen los enamorados!Hay que verse en la situación (en muchas cosas comprendo perfectamente a Swann)... Sin embargo algunas cosas están claras:
- Basta que tengamos que luchar tanto por algo para que cuando lo consigamos, ya no lo queramos y nos parezca que hemos perdido el tiempo.
- Es tan poco probable que dos personas quieran lo mismo al mismo tiempo...
- El amor nos cambia de una manera inverosímil.
- Hay personas que no demuestran las cosas lo suficiente; cuando lo hacen, ya no resultan creíbles. Sin embargo, hay otras que dan demasiado y sólo llaman la atención cuando cesan de ofrecer cosas de sí mismos.
- Si los celos nos atacan deberíamos pensar que esa no es la persona justa. ¡Qué angustiosos deben ser! Durante el libro he sentido mucha pena al ponerme en situación de cómo debía sentirse Swann...Uff

Bueno, podría destacar muchas más cosas, claro, pero muchas frases se quedarán escritas en mis cuadernos... Reeleré el libro dentro de unos años, seguro que me transmite cosas nuevas.
Para acabar, diré que me ha encantado la capacidad de Proust para no hacer paradas, para contar toda la historia de principio a fin, sin capítulos, sin pausas, sin nada.
Como punto negativo, este libro me ha hecho que lo compare con Madame Bovary, y...no sé, a mi parecer no llega a la altura.

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Swann in Love is not Proust-Lite.

No, Swann in Love is a multi-facetted novel complete with Proust’s themes of time, art, love, jealousy and imagination, along with the syntactic complexity of his style, his elaborate constructions and his beautiful clarity and precision. Proust’s famously long sentences show the shape of the thoughts and sensibilities of a mind in the grip of obsession, fantasy and uncertainty. It is also one of the funniest novels in French literature, satirising French society and its social pretensions. And the love story, a tale of Swann’s obsession with a stupid, shallow former courtesan called Odette de Crecy, is full of irony and bathos, complete with a jealous Swann spying on the wrong bedroom in the middle of the night because the hapless inhabitants just happened to have the lights on.

Swann’s problem is that he projects onto Odette, his own self. He is struck by her resemblance to the Biblical figure of Zipporah, Jethro’s Daughter, as painted by Botticelli in the Sistine Chapel.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2018/08/04/s...

[Virginia · Rating 2 out of 5]

In my quest to read more classics, I thought, hmm, Proust--I know nothing about it, so let's do it. There are some lovely passages for the lovesick and the brokenhearted, and some humor sprinkled in. That said, it's not for me. (Recommended for Jane Austen fans?) The characters are unlikeable and overall, this seemed agonizingly long. I did learn that "cattleya" was used by Proust to mean "amorous fondling", which is hilarious now that it's an orchid that people name their daughters after.

Thanks to netgalley and the publisher for a digital review copy. This new edition was published October 18, 2022.

[Vanja Petrović · Rating 5 out of 5]

,,Kad bi mu pogled naišao, na njegovom stolu, na Odetinu fotografiju, ili kad bi ona sama došla da ga poseti, nije lako mogao da identifikuje lik od krvi i mesa, ili od hartije, s onim bolnim stalnim nemirom što je boravio u njemu. Pomislio bi gotovo iznenađen: ,To, ona!' kao da bi nam odjednom pokazali, otelovljenu pred nama, neku našu bolest, a mi ne bismo našli da liči na ono od čega patimo.''

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-F98...