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Proust's Overcoat: The True Story of One Man's Passion for All Things Proust
“A rare and wonderfully written book of literary detection that is heartbreaking as well as thrilling.”—Michael Ondaatje, author of The English Patient
In the tradition of Simon Winchester’s The Professor and the Madman comes Proust’s Overcoat by Lorenza Foschini—the charming, endlessly intriguing story of a collector’s obsessive search for the personal effects of legendary author Marcel Proust. This fascinating true story introduces readers to a truly delightful character—Jacques Guérin, owner of a perfume company in France—and enthralls them with his relentless lifelong pursuit of all things Proustian, even the author’s most mundane possessions.
In the tradition of Simon Winchester’s The Professor and the Madman comes Proust’s Overcoat by Lorenza Foschini—the charming, endlessly intriguing story of a collector’s obsessive search for the personal effects of legendary author Marcel Proust. This fascinating true story introduces readers to a truly delightful character—Jacques Guérin, owner of a perfume company in France—and enthralls them with his relentless lifelong pursuit of all things Proustian, even the author’s most mundane possessions.
148 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 25, 2008
16 people are currently reading
621 people want to read
About the author
Lorenza Foschini
19 books8 followersLorenza Foschini is an Italian journalist, writer, and television news anchorwoman on RAI, the state-owned Italian radio and television network. As a Vatican correspondent, she traveled around the world, covering the journeys of Pope John Paul II. She is the author of Investigation at Millennium’s End, which won the Prix Scanno, and has translated Return to Guermantes, a collection of previously unpublished Proustian texts, from French into Italian. Born in Naples, she lives in Rome.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 118 reviews
February 23, 2018
A delightful and true story of Jacques Guerin, a French industrialist who owned a perfume factory and used his money to promote the arts. After Proust's death in 1922 collecting mementos of Marcel became an obsession. Guerin was horrified to learn that Proust's materials were being dumped, burned, given away or sold without regard for their literary significance.
This was because Proust's materials were left to his younger brother, Robert. Robert was embarrassed by his older brother's homosexuality and never even read his brother's work. Robert's wife, Marthe (Marcel's sister-in-law), hated Proust and thought him bizarre.
Guerin went on a crusade to recover Proust's notebooks, letters, sketches, annotated books and editing proofs. He also collected Proust's famous bed, in which he wrote, other furniture, and even his overcoat that he wore everywhere and used as a blanket.
Guerin eventually gave the furniture and overcoat to a Paris museum but he auctioned off the written materials despite receiving personal visits from Francois Mitterrand.
Guerin also supported, and at times housed, other gay French writers such as Jean Genet and Violette Ledouc.
This brief work (100 pages of text) has all kinds of literary trivia such as Proust's drinking Porto 345 wine and Guerin naming a brand of perfume, Divine, after a transvestite in Genet's book, Our Lady of the Flowers.
both images from rugusavay.com
This was because Proust's materials were left to his younger brother, Robert. Robert was embarrassed by his older brother's homosexuality and never even read his brother's work. Robert's wife, Marthe (Marcel's sister-in-law), hated Proust and thought him bizarre.
Guerin went on a crusade to recover Proust's notebooks, letters, sketches, annotated books and editing proofs. He also collected Proust's famous bed, in which he wrote, other furniture, and even his overcoat that he wore everywhere and used as a blanket.
Guerin eventually gave the furniture and overcoat to a Paris museum but he auctioned off the written materials despite receiving personal visits from Francois Mitterrand.
Guerin also supported, and at times housed, other gay French writers such as Jean Genet and Violette Ledouc.
This brief work (100 pages of text) has all kinds of literary trivia such as Proust's drinking Porto 345 wine and Guerin naming a brand of perfume, Divine, after a transvestite in Genet's book, Our Lady of the Flowers.
both images from rugusavay.com
June 8, 2019
”At the ball, Marcel Proust sat down in front of me on a little gilded chair, as if coming out of a dream, with his fur-lined cloak, his face full of sadness, and his night-seeing eyes.”--Marthe Bibesco
Jacques Guérin was a man of elegance and charm. He made a fortune from the perfume business, showing a savvy mind for marketing, for anticipating shifting market trends, and for outmaneuvering his competitors to gain market share. He was a very successful person if we are weighing people on a capitalist scale.
Being a perfume baron didn’t make him interesting to me, not in the least. Now Guérin the collector of rare books, manuscripts, and fine things, that was a man I found to be fascinating. Guérin was a Proust fanatic, but he also appreciated and supported other writers. In fact, he gave Jean Genet safe haven on more than one occasion when he was down on his luck or just emerging from prison. I loved the way Genet described his friend and benefactor. ”There is no better way to express my gratitude than by proclaiming the joy I feel in knowing a reader for whom fetishism is a religion.”
Guérin had met Proust’s brother, Dr. Robert Proust. The meeting did not go well. It was only after Robert died that Guérin found himself caught up in a desperate struggle between the widow and the remaining possessions of the great Marcel Proust. She despised her connection with a man who was unabashadely homosexual, wrote such extravagantly embarrasing books, and showed such disregard for the bourgeois way of life. Mrs. Robert Proust wanted to destroy or sell everything in her possession that had once belonged to Marcel. Backyard bonfires destroyed numerous notebooks and letters. Inscriptions were ripped from books. It was enough to bring anyone who loved literature to their knees. A malicious assault like this on the ephemera of a writer denied all of us those glimpses of the man behind the words.
Guérin was determined, through begging and with satchels full of cash, to save what he could. It was interesting how vehement stances might be based on moral issues, but that money almost always softened the fervancy of the need for punishment/destruction.
The author Lorenza Foschini was not only telling us the story of Guérin, the foremost Proust collector, but also of her own search for Proust’s fur lined overcoat. ”If I try to imagine Proust. I close my eyes and see him covered in his dark coat, as he was so often described by those who knew him. Reading In Search of Lost Time, I can only visualize the Narrator swaddled in his otter-lined overcoat.” Proust was sickly and spent most of his time in bed, writing, writing, and writing some more. He was determined to capture all his memories in exquisite detail before the Grim Reaper, who had been resting a chin on his shoulder his entire life, could finally collect his soul.
This was about a collector, a fur lined overcoat, and a writer who died with very few possessions, but who left us with a treasure trove of his wonderfully composed thoughts.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at: https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
Jacques Guérin was a man of elegance and charm. He made a fortune from the perfume business, showing a savvy mind for marketing, for anticipating shifting market trends, and for outmaneuvering his competitors to gain market share. He was a very successful person if we are weighing people on a capitalist scale.
Being a perfume baron didn’t make him interesting to me, not in the least. Now Guérin the collector of rare books, manuscripts, and fine things, that was a man I found to be fascinating. Guérin was a Proust fanatic, but he also appreciated and supported other writers. In fact, he gave Jean Genet safe haven on more than one occasion when he was down on his luck or just emerging from prison. I loved the way Genet described his friend and benefactor. ”There is no better way to express my gratitude than by proclaiming the joy I feel in knowing a reader for whom fetishism is a religion.”
Guérin had met Proust’s brother, Dr. Robert Proust. The meeting did not go well. It was only after Robert died that Guérin found himself caught up in a desperate struggle between the widow and the remaining possessions of the great Marcel Proust. She despised her connection with a man who was unabashadely homosexual, wrote such extravagantly embarrasing books, and showed such disregard for the bourgeois way of life. Mrs. Robert Proust wanted to destroy or sell everything in her possession that had once belonged to Marcel. Backyard bonfires destroyed numerous notebooks and letters. Inscriptions were ripped from books. It was enough to bring anyone who loved literature to their knees. A malicious assault like this on the ephemera of a writer denied all of us those glimpses of the man behind the words.
Guérin was determined, through begging and with satchels full of cash, to save what he could. It was interesting how vehement stances might be based on moral issues, but that money almost always softened the fervancy of the need for punishment/destruction.
The author Lorenza Foschini was not only telling us the story of Guérin, the foremost Proust collector, but also of her own search for Proust’s fur lined overcoat. ”If I try to imagine Proust. I close my eyes and see him covered in his dark coat, as he was so often described by those who knew him. Reading In Search of Lost Time, I can only visualize the Narrator swaddled in his otter-lined overcoat.” Proust was sickly and spent most of his time in bed, writing, writing, and writing some more. He was determined to capture all his memories in exquisite detail before the Grim Reaper, who had been resting a chin on his shoulder his entire life, could finally collect his soul.
This was about a collector, a fur lined overcoat, and a writer who died with very few possessions, but who left us with a treasure trove of his wonderfully composed thoughts.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at: https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
August 27, 2012
In this lovely short book, Foschini chronicles the diligent (and obsessive) commitment of Jacques Guérin to rescue as many of Marcel Proust's belongings as he could from the ravages of time and the destructive maelstrom of Proust's sister-in-law, who sought to obliterate any reminders of her brother-in-law out of a concern for bourgeois respectability and frustration over an unhappy marriage to Proust's brother Robert. Foschini constructs a multi-layered work: introducing Guérin's efforts to use his fortune to save everything he could, from photographs and letters written by and to Proust, to pieces of furniture and Proust's fur-lined overcoat; weaving in excerpts from In Search of Lost Time and episodes from Proust's life; and providing thoughtful passages on the ways in which material possessions embody some of the essence of their former owners.
I particularly appreciated Foschini's ability to evoke the excitement of a collector opening an old hatbox and discovering tangible remnants of Proust's life captures in sketches, letters, notes, and old photographs. Anyone who has had the privilege of touching a manscript and feeling an electric connection with the past, with genius, will recognize those feelings in Foschini's book. Numerous photographs throughout the text provide the reader with tangible hooks into Foschini's story. Recommended for fans of Proust, for people interested in the phenomenon of collecting, and for those who seek to preserve the memory of a loved one in material possessions left behind.
I particularly appreciated Foschini's ability to evoke the excitement of a collector opening an old hatbox and discovering tangible remnants of Proust's life captures in sketches, letters, notes, and old photographs. Anyone who has had the privilege of touching a manscript and feeling an electric connection with the past, with genius, will recognize those feelings in Foschini's book. Numerous photographs throughout the text provide the reader with tangible hooks into Foschini's story. Recommended for fans of Proust, for people interested in the phenomenon of collecting, and for those who seek to preserve the memory of a loved one in material possessions left behind.
June 9, 2019
PROUSTS MANTEL ist eine Geschichte voller Zufälligkeiten und erzählt von der Aura & Poesie der Dinge.
Lorenza Foschini interviewt Piero Tosi, den Kostümbildner Luchino Viscontis. Als das Interview eigentlich schon beendet ist, bringt sie das Gespräch auf Proust. Tosi erzählt, wie er bei Recherchen für Visconti zufällig den Parfümfabrikanten und Büchersammler Jacques Guerin kennen lernt. Guerin ist im Besitz zahlreicher Gegenstände, die einstmals Proust gehörten. Wie es dazu kam, strapaziert den Zufall bis an die Grenzen der Glaubwürdigkeit.
Guerin wurde von Prousts Bruder Robert operiert. Als Robert starb, besuchte Guerin die Witwe und erlebte, wie Prousts Homosexualität tiefe Spannungen in der bürgerlichen Familie verursacht hatte, die dazu führten, dass sich seine Schwägerin seines Nachlasses komplett entledigte.
"Die Homosexualität umgab Proust wie eine unsichtbare, aber unüberwindliche Mauer. In dieser Familiengeschichte aus Unverständnis, das sich in Groll, und aus Schweigen, das sich in blindwütigen Zerstörungswahn verwandelte, um mit verbrannten Papieren und verramschten Möbeln zu enden, in diesem komplizierten Beziehungsgeflecht zwischen Sohn und Eltern, Bruder und Bruder, Schwager und Schwägerin, Onkel und Neffe, im verschämten Austausch von Sätzen, in denen das Unausgesprochene grell hervorsticht, stößt man immer wieder gegen diese drohende, uneinnehmbare Mauer."
Bücher, Manuskripte und Notizen Prousts wurden zu großen Teilen verbrannt, Möbel und Gegenstände des täglichen Lebens wanderten zum Trödler. Eben diesen Trödler lernte Guerin durch einen weiteren unwahrscheinlichen Zufall kennen. Er erfährt, wie Prousts Schwägerin nach dem Tod ihres Mannes handschriftliche Widmungen und Manuskripte verbrannt hat und es blutet einem das Herz. Nicht nur Kriege zerstören Unwiderbringliches, auch Familie.
Durch die dem Sammler eigene Beharrlichkeit gelingt es Guerin, Teile von Prousts Nachlass aufzukaufen, bis ihm der Trödler schließlich Prousts legendären Mantel beschämt schenkt; er hatte ihn von der Schwägerin bekommen, um sich beim Angeln zu wärmen.
"Oft trug Marcel seinen Mantel, wenn er ins Ritz kam. Er schritt durch das elegante Foyer des berühmten Hotels an der Place Vendome und den Flur entlang, der zum Speisesaal führte. Dort angekommen, bahnte er sich mit seiner unbeholfen wirkenden Langsamkeit einen Weg zwischen den Tischen, gefolgt von den neugierigen Blicken der Gäste. Es war ihm stets bewußt, dass er beobachtet wurde. Im gewohnt ironischen Ton schrieb er an Philip Sassoon, den Enkel des Barons Gustave de Rothschild: "Einer ihrer berühmtesten Landsleute hat mich hoch geehrt, als er bemerkte: "Der größte Eindruck, den meine Frau und ich aus Paris mitnehmen, ist die Begegnung mit Mr Proust." Das hat mich sehr gefreut, doch leider zu früh, denn er fügte hinzu: "Wir haben nämlich noch nie zuvor einen Mann im Pelzmantel essen sehen." "
PROUSTS MANTEL ist ein wunderbarer Essay, der mir etliche Gänsehaut-Momente beschert hat.
Lorenza Foschini interviewt Piero Tosi, den Kostümbildner Luchino Viscontis. Als das Interview eigentlich schon beendet ist, bringt sie das Gespräch auf Proust. Tosi erzählt, wie er bei Recherchen für Visconti zufällig den Parfümfabrikanten und Büchersammler Jacques Guerin kennen lernt. Guerin ist im Besitz zahlreicher Gegenstände, die einstmals Proust gehörten. Wie es dazu kam, strapaziert den Zufall bis an die Grenzen der Glaubwürdigkeit.
Guerin wurde von Prousts Bruder Robert operiert. Als Robert starb, besuchte Guerin die Witwe und erlebte, wie Prousts Homosexualität tiefe Spannungen in der bürgerlichen Familie verursacht hatte, die dazu führten, dass sich seine Schwägerin seines Nachlasses komplett entledigte.
"Die Homosexualität umgab Proust wie eine unsichtbare, aber unüberwindliche Mauer. In dieser Familiengeschichte aus Unverständnis, das sich in Groll, und aus Schweigen, das sich in blindwütigen Zerstörungswahn verwandelte, um mit verbrannten Papieren und verramschten Möbeln zu enden, in diesem komplizierten Beziehungsgeflecht zwischen Sohn und Eltern, Bruder und Bruder, Schwager und Schwägerin, Onkel und Neffe, im verschämten Austausch von Sätzen, in denen das Unausgesprochene grell hervorsticht, stößt man immer wieder gegen diese drohende, uneinnehmbare Mauer."
Bücher, Manuskripte und Notizen Prousts wurden zu großen Teilen verbrannt, Möbel und Gegenstände des täglichen Lebens wanderten zum Trödler. Eben diesen Trödler lernte Guerin durch einen weiteren unwahrscheinlichen Zufall kennen. Er erfährt, wie Prousts Schwägerin nach dem Tod ihres Mannes handschriftliche Widmungen und Manuskripte verbrannt hat und es blutet einem das Herz. Nicht nur Kriege zerstören Unwiderbringliches, auch Familie.
Durch die dem Sammler eigene Beharrlichkeit gelingt es Guerin, Teile von Prousts Nachlass aufzukaufen, bis ihm der Trödler schließlich Prousts legendären Mantel beschämt schenkt; er hatte ihn von der Schwägerin bekommen, um sich beim Angeln zu wärmen.
"Oft trug Marcel seinen Mantel, wenn er ins Ritz kam. Er schritt durch das elegante Foyer des berühmten Hotels an der Place Vendome und den Flur entlang, der zum Speisesaal führte. Dort angekommen, bahnte er sich mit seiner unbeholfen wirkenden Langsamkeit einen Weg zwischen den Tischen, gefolgt von den neugierigen Blicken der Gäste. Es war ihm stets bewußt, dass er beobachtet wurde. Im gewohnt ironischen Ton schrieb er an Philip Sassoon, den Enkel des Barons Gustave de Rothschild: "Einer ihrer berühmtesten Landsleute hat mich hoch geehrt, als er bemerkte: "Der größte Eindruck, den meine Frau und ich aus Paris mitnehmen, ist die Begegnung mit Mr Proust." Das hat mich sehr gefreut, doch leider zu früh, denn er fügte hinzu: "Wir haben nämlich noch nie zuvor einen Mann im Pelzmantel essen sehen." "
PROUSTS MANTEL ist ein wunderbarer Essay, der mir etliche Gänsehaut-Momente beschert hat.
October 17, 2019
Ricordi ritrovati del tempo perduto.
Ci sono storie che entrano all'improvviso nella tua giornata, come una leggera brezza, come una ventata che all'improvviso ti trascina dove quel giorno non avevi affatto pensato di andare. E ti portano lontano, in un altro tempo, un tempo perduto e poi ritrovato.
E così, mentre oggi prendo La valle del'Eden per sistemarla in quel caos infinito che oramai è diventata la mia libreria, e lo accosto al cofanetto vuoto de La Montagna magica, riesco a scorgere appena il dorso azzurrino di questo piccolo librino, che quasi ho dimenticato di aver acquistato qualche mese fa in una delle mie incursioni a 'Il Mercatino', e non faccio in tempo a sfilarlo chiedendomi, 'Che cos'è?', che già ho iniziato a leggerlo.
Sono poche pagine che, per dirla parafrasando le stesse parole di Lorenza Foschini, che però si riferiscono all'Officina d'Orsay di Jacques Guérin, appassionato collezionista e 'salvatore', come amava definirsi, dei cimeli di Marcel Proust - dalla camera da letto, alle 'paperassouilles', alle lettere, al cappotto del titolo -, leggendole danno «la sensazione di penetrare in uno strano giardino dove il profumo inebriante non proviene dai fiori e dalla vegetazione» ma dallo sfogliare lettere e vecchie fotografie, dall'aprire una scatola che sotto uno strato di fogli di carta velina e naftalina conserva e protegge dal trascorrere del tempo un cappotto sporco e strappato, dal guardare un vecchio letto d'ottone rivestito da una vecchia coperta di satin blu e una scrivania nera, «che escono e si spandono folate di gelsomino, di rosa e di violetta». E di biancospino, aggiungo io.
Ci sono storie che entrano all'improvviso nella tua giornata, come una leggera brezza, come una ventata che all'improvviso ti trascina dove quel giorno non avevi affatto pensato di andare. E ti portano lontano, in un altro tempo, un tempo perduto e poi ritrovato.
E così, mentre oggi prendo La valle del'Eden per sistemarla in quel caos infinito che oramai è diventata la mia libreria, e lo accosto al cofanetto vuoto de La Montagna magica, riesco a scorgere appena il dorso azzurrino di questo piccolo librino, che quasi ho dimenticato di aver acquistato qualche mese fa in una delle mie incursioni a 'Il Mercatino', e non faccio in tempo a sfilarlo chiedendomi, 'Che cos'è?', che già ho iniziato a leggerlo.
Sono poche pagine che, per dirla parafrasando le stesse parole di Lorenza Foschini, che però si riferiscono all'Officina d'Orsay di Jacques Guérin, appassionato collezionista e 'salvatore', come amava definirsi, dei cimeli di Marcel Proust - dalla camera da letto, alle 'paperassouilles', alle lettere, al cappotto del titolo -, leggendole danno «la sensazione di penetrare in uno strano giardino dove il profumo inebriante non proviene dai fiori e dalla vegetazione» ma dallo sfogliare lettere e vecchie fotografie, dall'aprire una scatola che sotto uno strato di fogli di carta velina e naftalina conserva e protegge dal trascorrere del tempo un cappotto sporco e strappato, dal guardare un vecchio letto d'ottone rivestito da una vecchia coperta di satin blu e una scrivania nera, «che escono e si spandono folate di gelsomino, di rosa e di violetta». E di biancospino, aggiungo io.
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May 12, 2022The eccentric Marcel Proust
According to Léon Pierre-Quint, an early biographer, young Proust...
...looked like a cross between a refined dandy and an untidy medieval philosopher. He wore poorly knotted cravats under a turned-down collar, or large silk shirtfronts from Charvet in a creamy pink whose exact tint he spent a long time tracking down. He was slender enough to indulge in a double-breasted waistcoat, and sported a rose or an orchid in the buttonhole of his frock coat. He wore very light-colored gloves with black points, which were often soiled and crumpled; these he bought at Trois Quartiers because Robert de Montesquiou bought his there. A flat-brimmed top hat and a cane completed the elegant look of this slightly disheveled Beau Brummell.
Even on the hottest days of summer he had on a heavy fur-lined coat, which became legendary among those who knew him.
=========
Obsessive collecting of Proust artifacts by Jacques Guérin, a Parisian perfume magnate.....
Then, one evening, moving toward the door as he was about to take leave of Guérin, a local dealer named Werner, as if tired of concealing a minor larceny, let slip that he did have something else of Proust’s that he had kept concealed from Guérin. He claimed no little embarrassment. It had to do with his love of fishing and his ritual Sunday outings on the Marne, where he kept a small boat. Marthe, hearing about these fishing trips, told him he was crazy, that he would catch his death of cold out on the river in the middle of winter. Worried about his well-being, she presented him with an old coat of Marcel’s for him to wear. Ever since, whenever he went out in his boat, he would wrap this coat around his legs and cover his feet. After all this time, Werner felt the need to unburden himself about possessing the coat and having kept it a secret from him.
Guérin was stunned. He immediately began to plead, almost hysterically, for Werner to bring him the coat, regardless of its condition or however filthy or damaged it was.
Werner, though by now long familiar with his client’s peculiarities, still failed to understand the extravagance of this particular request. What possible value could there be in an old, worn-out coat, one in such a deplorable state? Such a thought made him redden with shame. He attempted to disabuse Guérin of the idea.
He was not sufficiently persuasive. In the face of Guérin’s insistence, he wound up bringing the old coat to him and giving it to him. Werner wouldn’t take a cent for it.
Sometimes Guérin would delicately fondle his prized possession, fingering the buttons that had been altered to fit Werner’s younger and smaller body. He would stroke the discolored fur collar that had been ravaged by the water of the Marne. Rubbing this tattered material between his fingers he felt the same emotion as when he was rifling through the pages of a rare book once believed to be lost. Something that needed to be saved had found its way to him. Guérin had the overcoat cleaned, had it smartened up, and ordered a teak box to preserve it from the ravages of time. On the outside of the box his old housekeeper lettered the words: "proust’s overcoat."
According to Léon Pierre-Quint, an early biographer, young Proust...
...looked like a cross between a refined dandy and an untidy medieval philosopher. He wore poorly knotted cravats under a turned-down collar, or large silk shirtfronts from Charvet in a creamy pink whose exact tint he spent a long time tracking down. He was slender enough to indulge in a double-breasted waistcoat, and sported a rose or an orchid in the buttonhole of his frock coat. He wore very light-colored gloves with black points, which were often soiled and crumpled; these he bought at Trois Quartiers because Robert de Montesquiou bought his there. A flat-brimmed top hat and a cane completed the elegant look of this slightly disheveled Beau Brummell.
Even on the hottest days of summer he had on a heavy fur-lined coat, which became legendary among those who knew him.
=========
Obsessive collecting of Proust artifacts by Jacques Guérin, a Parisian perfume magnate.....
Then, one evening, moving toward the door as he was about to take leave of Guérin, a local dealer named Werner, as if tired of concealing a minor larceny, let slip that he did have something else of Proust’s that he had kept concealed from Guérin. He claimed no little embarrassment. It had to do with his love of fishing and his ritual Sunday outings on the Marne, where he kept a small boat. Marthe, hearing about these fishing trips, told him he was crazy, that he would catch his death of cold out on the river in the middle of winter. Worried about his well-being, she presented him with an old coat of Marcel’s for him to wear. Ever since, whenever he went out in his boat, he would wrap this coat around his legs and cover his feet. After all this time, Werner felt the need to unburden himself about possessing the coat and having kept it a secret from him.
Guérin was stunned. He immediately began to plead, almost hysterically, for Werner to bring him the coat, regardless of its condition or however filthy or damaged it was.
Werner, though by now long familiar with his client’s peculiarities, still failed to understand the extravagance of this particular request. What possible value could there be in an old, worn-out coat, one in such a deplorable state? Such a thought made him redden with shame. He attempted to disabuse Guérin of the idea.
He was not sufficiently persuasive. In the face of Guérin’s insistence, he wound up bringing the old coat to him and giving it to him. Werner wouldn’t take a cent for it.
Sometimes Guérin would delicately fondle his prized possession, fingering the buttons that had been altered to fit Werner’s younger and smaller body. He would stroke the discolored fur collar that had been ravaged by the water of the Marne. Rubbing this tattered material between his fingers he felt the same emotion as when he was rifling through the pages of a rare book once believed to be lost. Something that needed to be saved had found its way to him. Guérin had the overcoat cleaned, had it smartened up, and ordered a teak box to preserve it from the ravages of time. On the outside of the box his old housekeeper lettered the words: "proust’s overcoat."
May 3, 2016
Author's Note
--Proust's Overcoat: The True Story of One Man's Passion for All Things Proust
Acknowledgments
Bibliography
--Proust's Overcoat: The True Story of One Man's Passion for All Things Proust
Acknowledgments
Bibliography
January 16, 2015
A charming account of a vociferous collector of Proust memorabilia, the perfumer Jacques Guerin and a light-hearted exploration of Proust's early love life and familial relations. As commendable as a heartfelt passion for collecting anything might be, whether it be Proust memorabilia or Star Wars figurines, one should be wary of fetishizing Proust's surroundings/objects thinking that they will give us an insight into his remarkable genius and unparalleled imagination. I'm not sure if Proust himself would have approved; after all, he was a novelist who felt that our remembrance of recreation of the past was based on our own it, whether it be something as everyday as a madeline, as aesthetically beautiful as a sonata by Vinteuil or as magnificent as pink hawthorns in bloom, for Proust all paradises were paradises lost but these paradises could only be reached by our own memories and from the sensations which were a part of that memory, not on the objects which were part of another individuals past and conciousness. I am going off on a tangent because I'm not sure if that was the point of this book, which is as much about Guerin and members of Proust's family as it is about the writer and his works, but there is something inherently dangerous in the attitude towards the Proust merchandise fetishists who are mentioned in the novel-I would, for example, much rather read Swann's Way (for the tenth time!) than see his now disintegrating overcoat.
October 4, 2012
Thursday night,
My dear grandpa, I must ask your indulgence for the sum of 13 francs... This is why. In order to desist from my nasty habit of masturbation I was so desperate to see a woman that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a brothel. But first, in my nervous state, I broke a chamber pot, 3 francs, and then, in this same agitation, I couldn't bring myself to fuck. There I was, in for another 10 francs an hour, waiting until I could satisfy myself... I wouldn't dare ask Papa for more money so soon, and I was hoping that you would help me out in this circumstance which you know is not merely exceptional, but unique, it can't happen twice in your life that you're too distraught to fuck. - Marcel
What's not to love about this man! Geez lol
My dear grandpa, I must ask your indulgence for the sum of 13 francs... This is why. In order to desist from my nasty habit of masturbation I was so desperate to see a woman that Papa gave me 10 francs to go to a brothel. But first, in my nervous state, I broke a chamber pot, 3 francs, and then, in this same agitation, I couldn't bring myself to fuck. There I was, in for another 10 francs an hour, waiting until I could satisfy myself... I wouldn't dare ask Papa for more money so soon, and I was hoping that you would help me out in this circumstance which you know is not merely exceptional, but unique, it can't happen twice in your life that you're too distraught to fuck. - Marcel
What's not to love about this man! Geez lol
July 6, 2025
This little gem was a complete accident. I was culling the shelves and I discovered this one tucked away. I was looking for a quick read and this sounded interesting. I must have acquired this an ARC from somewhere. In regard to Proust, I have only read Swann's Way, which I liked but not enough to continue his epic In Search of Lost Time. Regardless, this was a fascinating look at a man who was obsessed with finding anything Proust- notes, discarded manuscripts and furniture. Plus it filled in details on Proust’s life, that I found very informative. If you are a fan of Proust or are just looking for a palate cleanser, give this one a try.
April 26, 2017
maybe it's not the book or the writing that deserves 5 stars but rather the life of proust and Guérin - that were so extraordinary that they border on unrealistic - that do. I have so far only read Du côté de chez Swann by Proust but his life seems to be as interesting as his novel(s)! (and I'm not going to pretend that reading the first volume did take some time and immense concentration). And of course, his monumental Recherche has been a kind of autobiography.
Proust was an extravagant character. I believe him to be melodramatic at times and often sarcastic as the few letters included in this book show. He was different from his family and his life's purpose was the completion of the Recherche. To devote oneself to writing one œuvre, to have the conviction that this is what you are supposed to do on this planet is a mind boggling thought.
"Diese Hochzeit hat mich fast umgebracht", schrieb er Madame Catusse, einer Freundin seiner Mutter. Danach blieb er zwei Wochen lang im Bett.
This would have to be my favourite quote from the book concerning Marcel. As for Guérin I really appreciated his ... feverishness but also his character. He never collected all these things he did collect to impress other people. He was not stained by vanité (as Stendhal would say and I know this makes me sound like a pretentious ass but I just had a lecture on Stendhal and wrote a paper on him and whilst reading about Guérin and how he hid all the manuscripts he owned I couldn't help but be reminded of his view on society) - he did what he did solely for himself. He hid his collections in the basement, like Bluebeard his women, as he himself mentions, because: "you don't share the woman you love with others".
I really enjoyed the glimpse into Marcels life through Guérin and this book has awoken in me an immediate hunger for more knowledge on Proust.
Proust was an extravagant character. I believe him to be melodramatic at times and often sarcastic as the few letters included in this book show. He was different from his family and his life's purpose was the completion of the Recherche. To devote oneself to writing one œuvre, to have the conviction that this is what you are supposed to do on this planet is a mind boggling thought.
"Diese Hochzeit hat mich fast umgebracht", schrieb er Madame Catusse, einer Freundin seiner Mutter. Danach blieb er zwei Wochen lang im Bett.
This would have to be my favourite quote from the book concerning Marcel. As for Guérin I really appreciated his ... feverishness but also his character. He never collected all these things he did collect to impress other people. He was not stained by vanité (as Stendhal would say and I know this makes me sound like a pretentious ass but I just had a lecture on Stendhal and wrote a paper on him and whilst reading about Guérin and how he hid all the manuscripts he owned I couldn't help but be reminded of his view on society) - he did what he did solely for himself. He hid his collections in the basement, like Bluebeard his women, as he himself mentions, because: "you don't share the woman you love with others".
I really enjoyed the glimpse into Marcels life through Guérin and this book has awoken in me an immediate hunger for more knowledge on Proust.
January 1, 2014
At first, it is really hard to revert to reading a book with such short sentences, especially after spending an entire year reading In Search of Lost Time. It reads like a bad translation until you get caught up in the details of Proust's life, and then you get over this obstacle to reading. To read Foschini's description of Proust's family life is to understand the necessity of Proust creating his masterpiece. Most interesting is his belief that "supposedly inanimate objects from a Persian fairy tale, in which imprisoned souls, subjected to martyrdom, implore you to free them" (Foschini 80)and Swann's Way, the Narrator explaining "the Celtic belief that the souls of those we have lost are held captive in some lesser being, in an animal,a vegetable, an inanimate object, in effect lost to us until the day, which for some of us never comes, when we find ourselves walking near a tree and it dawns on us that this object is their prison (Foschini 46). This understanding explains Guérin's fetish for collecting all things Proust and for the readers of Proust of why we now see things differently. This book does fill in a few blanks and it also presents a few surprises.
We are left thinking, "Perhaps the immobility of the things around us is imposed on them by the certainty that they are themselves and not anything else, by the immobility of our thought concerning them. (Foschini 117).
We are left thinking, "Perhaps the immobility of the things around us is imposed on them by the certainty that they are themselves and not anything else, by the immobility of our thought concerning them. (Foschini 117).
February 6, 2015
A charming story about a dedicated bibliophiles quest to rescue the personal possessions and papers of Marcel Proust. I had not read any of Proust's work prior to reading this and, if I am honest, I am not likekly to but it can't be denied he was a quirky personality. Jacques Guerin spent years accumalting papers, photographs and furniture belonging to Proust only to eventually sell them on when he turned 90. I really enjoyed this story as it spoke to me as a lover of books and book related ephemera.
June 19, 2010
Proust's Overcoat is a true story about one man's obsession with all things Proust.
Written by Lorenza Foschini, this small biography (literally at 144 pages) is a captivating tale about Jacques Guérin, a Parisian heir to a perfume company. Guérin's passion lay not in perfume but in collecting rare books, manuscripts, and papers. After spending the day in the factory, he would stroll through Paris in the evenings, frequenting small bookstores, looking for treasures. That is how he came to find a proprietor who happened to have corrected proofs of Marcel Proust.
Ultimately, the book tells Guérin's tale, as well as that of Proust, his brother Robert, Robert's wife Marthe who bore no love for her brother-in-law, and the family shame over Proust's homosexuality. It was this shame that led Marthe to destroy many of Marcel's papers after his death, only later to realize that these papers and notebooks were valuable.
Foschini's retelling of Guérin's search for and amassing of Proust's papers, furniture, and his famous overcoat reads lyrically: "Proust's homosexuality surrounded him like an invisible and insurmountable wall. His family's unwillingness to understand led to a history of silences that mutated into rancor. This in turn was transformed into acts of vandalism—papers destroyed, furniture abandoned" (71).
Proust's Overcoat is a lovely afternoon read, one that can be appreciated by bibliophiles and historians alike.
Written by Lorenza Foschini, this small biography (literally at 144 pages) is a captivating tale about Jacques Guérin, a Parisian heir to a perfume company. Guérin's passion lay not in perfume but in collecting rare books, manuscripts, and papers. After spending the day in the factory, he would stroll through Paris in the evenings, frequenting small bookstores, looking for treasures. That is how he came to find a proprietor who happened to have corrected proofs of Marcel Proust.
Ultimately, the book tells Guérin's tale, as well as that of Proust, his brother Robert, Robert's wife Marthe who bore no love for her brother-in-law, and the family shame over Proust's homosexuality. It was this shame that led Marthe to destroy many of Marcel's papers after his death, only later to realize that these papers and notebooks were valuable.
Foschini's retelling of Guérin's search for and amassing of Proust's papers, furniture, and his famous overcoat reads lyrically: "Proust's homosexuality surrounded him like an invisible and insurmountable wall. His family's unwillingness to understand led to a history of silences that mutated into rancor. This in turn was transformed into acts of vandalism—papers destroyed, furniture abandoned" (71).
Proust's Overcoat is a lovely afternoon read, one that can be appreciated by bibliophiles and historians alike.
September 8, 2012
Foschini has fashioned this exquisite extended essay about the famous French perfume magnate and bibliophile Jacques Guerin, a friend of Satie, Genet, and Cocteau, and collector of rare books and manuscripts.
A professional visit with Dr. Robert Proust (Marcel’s younger brother) leads to a treasure trove of papers, notebooks, furniture and clothing; but not immediately, and not without some duplicity. It is said that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Dr. Proust’s widow felt betrayed by her philandering husband and disgusted by her degenerate homosexual brother-in-law. With little forethought as to the lucrative aspects of the Proust canon, she bitterly ordered the great novelist’s papers burned. Though much was lost, much was saved by a savvy antiques dealer and friend of Guerin.
I sat enthralled, reading this slim volume in a single sitting (unheard for me). This is a fascinating slice of gay history – the openly gay Guerin preserving for posterity the works of the great Proust. I heartily recommend it.
A professional visit with Dr. Robert Proust (Marcel’s younger brother) leads to a treasure trove of papers, notebooks, furniture and clothing; but not immediately, and not without some duplicity. It is said that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Dr. Proust’s widow felt betrayed by her philandering husband and disgusted by her degenerate homosexual brother-in-law. With little forethought as to the lucrative aspects of the Proust canon, she bitterly ordered the great novelist’s papers burned. Though much was lost, much was saved by a savvy antiques dealer and friend of Guerin.
I sat enthralled, reading this slim volume in a single sitting (unheard for me). This is a fascinating slice of gay history – the openly gay Guerin preserving for posterity the works of the great Proust. I heartily recommend it.
August 12, 2010
This was a first reads book.
I thought this book was quite good actually, but so short it couldn't go in depth enough to actually learn much. And I thought Guerin (the guy stalking down Proust's possessions) was a wildly odd and funny guy and I would have enjoyed finding out more about him. The book itself was short and really only half was about Guerin, the other half was about Proust and his brother. I liked what I read but I sort of thought why bother doing it only half way?
I completely forgot to put how much I loved the cover. It would have made me buy it if I hadn't won it on first reads. It is superfantastic. Maybe I should just frame it and hang it over my bookshelf.
I thought this book was quite good actually, but so short it couldn't go in depth enough to actually learn much. And I thought Guerin (the guy stalking down Proust's possessions) was a wildly odd and funny guy and I would have enjoyed finding out more about him. The book itself was short and really only half was about Guerin, the other half was about Proust and his brother. I liked what I read but I sort of thought why bother doing it only half way?
I completely forgot to put how much I loved the cover. It would have made me buy it if I hadn't won it on first reads. It is superfantastic. Maybe I should just frame it and hang it over my bookshelf.
September 25, 2019
Lo bueno de esta historia es que te entran ganas de leer a Proust.
September 26, 2025
Un libro exquisito que, a propósito de Proust, recorre la historia de Jaques Guerín, el empresario y coleccionista a quien debemos haber salvado una parte importante de la obra proustiana, literalmente, del fuego.
Entretenido, culto y bien escrito.
Entretenido, culto y bien escrito.
August 16, 2021
A charming little book with a captivating true story for all Proust enthusiasts.
December 29, 2014
I think this book would mean much more to someone who loves the writings of Marcel Proust; however, I have never read his works, so this slim volume (144 pages) made me rather sad in its obsessive focus with collecting "all things Proust"--including the overcoat.
Amazon says:
"Jacques Guérin was a prominent businessman at the head of his family's successful perfume company, but his real passion was for rare books and literary manuscripts. From the time he was a young man, he frequented the antiquarian bookshops of Paris in search of lost, forgotten treasures. The ultimate prize? Anything from the hands of Marcel Proust.
Guérin identified with Proust more deeply than with any other writer, and when illness brought him by chance under the care of Marcel's brother, Dr. Robert Proust, he saw it as a remarkable opportunity. Shamed by Marcel's extravagant writings, embarrassed by his homosexuality, and offended by his disregard for bourgeois respectability, his family had begun to deliberately destroy and sell their inheritance of his notebooks, letters, manuscripts, furniture, and personal effects. Horrified by the destruction, and consumed with desire, Guérin ingratiated himself with Marcel's heirs, placating them with cash and kindness in exchange for the writer's priceless, rare material remains. After years of relentless persuasion, Guérin was at last rewarded with a highly personal prize, one he had never dreamed of possessing, a relic he treasured to the end of his long life: Proust's overcoat."
The author, Lorenza Foschini, is herself a devout follower of Proust, so she has done a good job of following Guerin's obsession. However, Guérin himself is so consumed with his desire for all things Proust that he manipulates people in what, to me, is an inexcusable way. Certainly Marcel Proust suffered at the hands of his family because of his homosexuality--but for me, Guerin also dishonors the famous writer by focusing on HAVING to "own" Proust's effects--especially that sad old worn-out overcoat.
I certainly understand that objects once touched by those in the past can become precious, but I strongly disagree with the premise of the book that these "things" can "hold the souls" of those who are gone. I love the writings of Henry David Thoreau as these people did Proust--but he lives on for me in his words, not his artifacts.
Amazon says:
"Jacques Guérin was a prominent businessman at the head of his family's successful perfume company, but his real passion was for rare books and literary manuscripts. From the time he was a young man, he frequented the antiquarian bookshops of Paris in search of lost, forgotten treasures. The ultimate prize? Anything from the hands of Marcel Proust.
Guérin identified with Proust more deeply than with any other writer, and when illness brought him by chance under the care of Marcel's brother, Dr. Robert Proust, he saw it as a remarkable opportunity. Shamed by Marcel's extravagant writings, embarrassed by his homosexuality, and offended by his disregard for bourgeois respectability, his family had begun to deliberately destroy and sell their inheritance of his notebooks, letters, manuscripts, furniture, and personal effects. Horrified by the destruction, and consumed with desire, Guérin ingratiated himself with Marcel's heirs, placating them with cash and kindness in exchange for the writer's priceless, rare material remains. After years of relentless persuasion, Guérin was at last rewarded with a highly personal prize, one he had never dreamed of possessing, a relic he treasured to the end of his long life: Proust's overcoat."
The author, Lorenza Foschini, is herself a devout follower of Proust, so she has done a good job of following Guerin's obsession. However, Guérin himself is so consumed with his desire for all things Proust that he manipulates people in what, to me, is an inexcusable way. Certainly Marcel Proust suffered at the hands of his family because of his homosexuality--but for me, Guerin also dishonors the famous writer by focusing on HAVING to "own" Proust's effects--especially that sad old worn-out overcoat.
I certainly understand that objects once touched by those in the past can become precious, but I strongly disagree with the premise of the book that these "things" can "hold the souls" of those who are gone. I love the writings of Henry David Thoreau as these people did Proust--but he lives on for me in his words, not his artifacts.
November 22, 2011
Like another reviewer here on Goodreads, I also think two stars is a bit harsh and would have preferred two and a half stars. This isn't a bad book. It's merely very short, 120 pages, with many, many photos: really, it is more of a long magazine article than a book. The detail is rather sparse and one only learns the barest of facts.
My big pet peeve is the bracketing of the story with the anecdote about seeing Proust's overcoat at Musée Carnavalet and the author's complaints about the museum's treatment of the coat. At the beginning, here's the description of the curators bringing out the coat: "They carried it delicately and with a certain detachment, as if exhuming such a meagre thing were beneath them." As a museum curator myself, I find this laughable. We have to carry objects delicately, especially if, as the author then points out in the case of this coat, the artefact is falling apart. But we don't find some artefacts beneath us. We have a responsibility to preserve the objects for this and future generations. Collectors might be snobs, but an ethical curator for a public institution probably is not. Furthermore, even if the curators made judgment calls on an artefact's worth, I doubt it would be for something associated with so famous a person as Proust.
(Never mind my annoyance that the author touches the coat with her bare hands - where are her white cotton gloves?! Didn't anyone warn her that her fingers secrete oils that will harm textiles? Or her puzzlement at the tissue paper padding - museums generally store textiles in acid-free tissue paper and pad certain areas of the textile to relieve stress points. We're saving things so they can be around for centuries, folks. Yes, your grandchildren can thank us next time they visit a museum. And, if they ask ahead of time, many curators would be happy to show them things they can't display.)
Foschini ends her book with a wistful description of how the coat is stored away from the public in a storeroom. Personally, it sounds like the coat has it good: tissue paper, its own acid-free box, on a top shelf, in the dark collections storage area (light also harms many artefacts).
Ok, I am so riled up with my annoyance at this book's denigrating depiction of museum practices, it does deserve two stars.
My big pet peeve is the bracketing of the story with the anecdote about seeing Proust's overcoat at Musée Carnavalet and the author's complaints about the museum's treatment of the coat. At the beginning, here's the description of the curators bringing out the coat: "They carried it delicately and with a certain detachment, as if exhuming such a meagre thing were beneath them." As a museum curator myself, I find this laughable. We have to carry objects delicately, especially if, as the author then points out in the case of this coat, the artefact is falling apart. But we don't find some artefacts beneath us. We have a responsibility to preserve the objects for this and future generations. Collectors might be snobs, but an ethical curator for a public institution probably is not. Furthermore, even if the curators made judgment calls on an artefact's worth, I doubt it would be for something associated with so famous a person as Proust.
(Never mind my annoyance that the author touches the coat with her bare hands - where are her white cotton gloves?! Didn't anyone warn her that her fingers secrete oils that will harm textiles? Or her puzzlement at the tissue paper padding - museums generally store textiles in acid-free tissue paper and pad certain areas of the textile to relieve stress points. We're saving things so they can be around for centuries, folks. Yes, your grandchildren can thank us next time they visit a museum. And, if they ask ahead of time, many curators would be happy to show them things they can't display.)
Foschini ends her book with a wistful description of how the coat is stored away from the public in a storeroom. Personally, it sounds like the coat has it good: tissue paper, its own acid-free box, on a top shelf, in the dark collections storage area (light also harms many artefacts).
Ok, I am so riled up with my annoyance at this book's denigrating depiction of museum practices, it does deserve two stars.
August 15, 2010
Proust’s Overcoat is an unusual little book. Not to say that it isn’t interesting; in fact, I was surprised how very interesting a book about a man who collected Proust’s worldly possessions could be.
It’s hard to categorize this book — it’s a the true story of Jacques Guerin, a wealthy parfumier who became obsessed with collecting Proust paraphernalia. His quest was not solely relegated to manuscripts — no, Guerin’s fascination (which seemed to be more with the man himself than the literature he created) extended to Proust’s furniture, furnishing, and, indeed, the overcoat he was famed for wearing in bed as he wrote.
Proust’s Overcoat is partially the story of Jacques Guerin’s passion, partially the story of the politics of the Proust family, and partially the story of the things themselves. Most of the items in the collection would have likely been destroyed and forgotten had it not been for Guerin’s motivation to track them down and save them.
Most interesting to me was Foschini’s role in the book. She frames it almost as a fable of literary zeal, a lesson more about the art of the pursuit of a quest than the object of the quest itself. While it appears that she did some research for the book, most of it covers the story she was told about Guerin’ by a third party. It’s as though she just recorded a good story she heard once and thought others might enjoy.
I did enjoy it. It was interesting and accessible, an amusing fact considering how inaccessible Proust is generally regarded to be. It’s a good book about love of books and love of writers and the need for preservation of both. At just 120 pages, I would recommend it to anyone who loves literature. I’m off to pick up Swann’s Way.
It’s hard to categorize this book — it’s a the true story of Jacques Guerin, a wealthy parfumier who became obsessed with collecting Proust paraphernalia. His quest was not solely relegated to manuscripts — no, Guerin’s fascination (which seemed to be more with the man himself than the literature he created) extended to Proust’s furniture, furnishing, and, indeed, the overcoat he was famed for wearing in bed as he wrote.
Proust’s Overcoat is partially the story of Jacques Guerin’s passion, partially the story of the politics of the Proust family, and partially the story of the things themselves. Most of the items in the collection would have likely been destroyed and forgotten had it not been for Guerin’s motivation to track them down and save them.
Most interesting to me was Foschini’s role in the book. She frames it almost as a fable of literary zeal, a lesson more about the art of the pursuit of a quest than the object of the quest itself. While it appears that she did some research for the book, most of it covers the story she was told about Guerin’ by a third party. It’s as though she just recorded a good story she heard once and thought others might enjoy.
I did enjoy it. It was interesting and accessible, an amusing fact considering how inaccessible Proust is generally regarded to be. It’s a good book about love of books and love of writers and the need for preservation of both. At just 120 pages, I would recommend it to anyone who loves literature. I’m off to pick up Swann’s Way.
August 1, 2010
I liked this more than I thought I would - Guerin by himself is quite an interesting character, having a nose for more than his perfume's success. The way that he wanted to hunt down, rescue and protect rare and precious things resonated with me. The book is filled with photos of the Proust family, photos of the treasures Guerin rescued belonging to Marcel, letters to and from Marcel Proust, even paintings and drawings. I was drawn in by the study of the relationship between the two Proust brothers (Robert being the doctor who followed in his father's footsteps). I found the descriptions that brought Marcel Proust to life engaging and not without humor - he shows up to his brother's wedding dressed in a multitude of layers of clothing because he was so cold - something I can identify with, if not with his illness or genius for writing. I liked the image of him writing while proppped up in his big brass bed, covered with the overcoat described in the title. Also, Marcel's belief that inantimate objects held imprisoned souls who implored certain people who walked past to free them - intriguing. Guerin kept private his collection until his 90th birthday, when he offered his treasures to museums and other buyers. Proust's brass bed, overcoat, rugs, paintings, his pigskin cane, Legion of Honor medal, and more - all rescued and available for Proust fans to enjoy today. I received this book free from Goodreads First Reads!
April 17, 2011
Let me start with a disclaimer that I am certainly no Proust scholar. I know how to pronounce his name correctly, and I can tell you a couple of the things he's written, but that's about it. (Most of this information came from watching Little Miss Sunshine.) I think he was an interesting man, and I have plans to read at least one of his works in the near future. With that being said, this was a poor choice for my first foray into a study of Proust. Although it is classified as a biography, it is hard to pinpoint who the biography is really about--is it about Proust? Guerin, the perfume king-cum-Proust-obsessed-scholar? The author, who had met neither Proust nor Guerin? The intermediary between Guerin and the author? You get a little bit of back story on each one. 120 pages did not seem adequate to give a detail of any one person, much less four people. The narration skipped between descriptions of all four of the previously mentioned people, as well as some others.
The author made the narrative confusing when she would do things like talk about several people with the last name Proust in the same paragraph, referring to each one as simply "Proust." She jumped around in time, so the story was not a chronological one. And there's maybe one page about Proust's overcoat. The rest is a jumbled mess of incomplete descriptions and postulated emotions from people the author had never met and seemingly only cursorily studied
The author made the narrative confusing when she would do things like talk about several people with the last name Proust in the same paragraph, referring to each one as simply "Proust." She jumped around in time, so the story was not a chronological one. And there's maybe one page about Proust's overcoat. The rest is a jumbled mess of incomplete descriptions and postulated emotions from people the author had never met and seemingly only cursorily studied
April 3, 2016
Lorenza Foschini'nin yazmış olduğu bu kitap, bana göre edebiyatın şahı olan Proust'un hayatına günümüz dünyasından tarihçi bir yaklaşımla bakmak için ideal ve fazla ayrıntılarla boğulup, yorucu bir metin olmamış, tatmin edici bir çalışma.
Açıkçası hakkında yazılmış her şeyi özellikle merak ettiğim çok yazar yok. Zira yazarları mikro bir bakış içerisine aldığımda, genellikle hayal kırıklığına uğrama ihtimalim yüksek oluyor. Fakat bu kaideyi Proust için bozalı çok uzun zaman oldu. Onun yazmış olduğu her şeyi ve onun hakkında yazılmış olan her şeyi büyük bir iştahla okuyorum. Onu daha iyi anlamamı sağlayan her metinde, Kayıp Zamanın İzinde'ye de bir adım yakınlaşıyorum.
Bu kitap da uzun zamandır kitaplığımdaydı. Şu aralar Kayıp Zamanın İzinde'yi tekrar okumaya aldığım ve ikinci kez daha dikkatli şekilde okuduğum için sanırsam, büyük bir Proust açlığı içindeyim. Hakkında yazılmış, biyografileri, felsefi çözümlemeleri, inceleme metinlerini okuyorum. Bu kitap da Proust'un paltosunu merkeze aldığı değişik bir tanımlama yöntemi içeriyor. Olağanüstü diyemesem de okuması keyifli, güzel fotoğraflar ve ilgi çekici anektodlar içeren bir kitap.
Ancak yazarın eserlerini okumadan ve hayatı hakkında bilgi sahibi olmadan okumanızı tavsiye etmem. Zira bu kitap destekleyici ve besleyici niteliğe sahip, bağımsız olarak taşları çok yerine oturtabilecek bir kitap değil.
İyi okumalar.
10/6.5
Açıkçası hakkında yazılmış her şeyi özellikle merak ettiğim çok yazar yok. Zira yazarları mikro bir bakış içerisine aldığımda, genellikle hayal kırıklığına uğrama ihtimalim yüksek oluyor. Fakat bu kaideyi Proust için bozalı çok uzun zaman oldu. Onun yazmış olduğu her şeyi ve onun hakkında yazılmış olan her şeyi büyük bir iştahla okuyorum. Onu daha iyi anlamamı sağlayan her metinde, Kayıp Zamanın İzinde'ye de bir adım yakınlaşıyorum.
Bu kitap da uzun zamandır kitaplığımdaydı. Şu aralar Kayıp Zamanın İzinde'yi tekrar okumaya aldığım ve ikinci kez daha dikkatli şekilde okuduğum için sanırsam, büyük bir Proust açlığı içindeyim. Hakkında yazılmış, biyografileri, felsefi çözümlemeleri, inceleme metinlerini okuyorum. Bu kitap da Proust'un paltosunu merkeze aldığı değişik bir tanımlama yöntemi içeriyor. Olağanüstü diyemesem de okuması keyifli, güzel fotoğraflar ve ilgi çekici anektodlar içeren bir kitap.
Ancak yazarın eserlerini okumadan ve hayatı hakkında bilgi sahibi olmadan okumanızı tavsiye etmem. Zira bu kitap destekleyici ve besleyici niteliğe sahip, bağımsız olarak taşları çok yerine oturtabilecek bir kitap değil.
İyi okumalar.
10/6.5
March 7, 2013
A very short little non-fiction book that's about quite a bit, but not very much. There's a little bit about the perfumer bibliophile obsessed with the collection of Proust's worldly goods, a bit about the relationship between the members of Proust's family, and a bit about the meaning we imbue in inanimate objects. In all a very brief, very European little book, as short as Proust himself was long.
It's worth three stars just for the pictures and drawings inside.
It's worth three stars just for the pictures and drawings inside.
August 9, 2014
Really liked this account of a Frenchman obsessed with collecting Proust artifacts in the 20th century after Prousts' death. Author is an Italian journalist who covers the Vatican. Fun Proust info as well. Now maybe I'll make it through In Search of Lost Time...
August 21, 2012
A beautifully written short work of literary non-fiction. Easily read in two days but will resonate long afterwards. Proust would approve.
February 28, 2016
Me encanto, quiero leer En busca del Tiempo Perdido... algún día :)
February 6, 2016
This taught me how to finally love Proust, which I've been trying to do on my own for years.
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