I finished Swann's Way which I have been reading since the end of February, interrupted by various religious reading interludes as we know. And what to say aside from that I would feel suffused with trembling and deep feeling when I read about Odette and about Gilberte and the men who purported to love them, and further an unassailable love for an unending sentence. How close to Odette and Gilberte. Oh Patricia..oh Harry thank you for insisting I read this... More Proust soon
Harry is my mentor. He is 80 and a poet.
Copied from goodreads: Funny the ability that our senses have to jettison us back to a different time. A different self.
there's a sort of optimism here, like the feeling that if you cough hard enough a pulsing mass might escape and out there in the tissue all the sic...
just awful. in so many words he agrees with repression despite himself.
