Mr. James’s Reviews > Swann’s Way > Status Update

"I'll be at the cafe Monday," she had said, "meet me at noon." Jerry arrived at 11:30, chose a seat outside, ordered a latte and told the waiter, "Come back at noon." Jerry looked at the other patrons: a couple laughing, an old man playing with his watch, and a young boy shoving pancakes into his mouth. The waiter returned at noon and said, "Thursday special: sloppy joe." "I'll have that," Jerry said.

"What is then this mystery? / I cannot understand. / Fleeting vision... / In these affairs / 'Tis better to be blind." - Marcel Proust

There has been an absence... Yes? They met; the Ways. Yes? Inevitable: either or. You, as I gather, seem confused. Which is better? Well, the bird was a dark pink. Maybe there is no either or. My take: the grass casts shadows, yet, each blade - I swear to you - is a vivid green. As a whole there is too much malice and joy to accept... presently. The driver's box is empty; I fill it and mumble, "Tansonville."

"And these dreams warned me that since I wanted to be a writer someday, it was time to find out what I meant to write." - Marcel Proust

"Thus the importance of the role of the artist in transforming reality according to a particular inner vision: the artist escapes the tyranny of time through art." - Lydia Davis, Introduction, Swann's Way

"For only in recollection does experience become fully significant, as we arrange it in a meaningful pattern, and thus the crucial role of our intellect, our imagination, in our perception of the world and our re-creation of it suit our desires." - Lydia Davis, Introduction, Swann's Way"

"... but now I knew for all the suffering which M. Vinteuil had endured on his daughter's account during his lifetime, this was what he had received from her as his reward after his death." - Marcel Proust

"Which is it... sir?" Not knowing how to respond the man looks past the constable into a barren poppy field. "Swann's or Guermantes?"

[...] Françoise endures ailments, injuries, and emotional trauma from lives suffered in magazines, newspapers, books, and word of mouth: she is a vicarious feeler. But for those that lie coughing and crying on their deathbed - not a tear is shed. She quickly notices the loss of labor, the unfinished work, which renders her as a cold and emotionless human being. Distance brings sorrow: immediacy is indifference.

Françoise’s Way : is complex. She is Aunt Leonie’s devoted servant; who at first seems timid, slow to speak, and reluctant to feed into Aunt Leonia’s paranoia. At first she's the nurturing houseservent: foremost to Aunt Leonie, then to the narrator's family. But those that give love, can also lack it, take it away, or even: completely dismiss its existence. [...]