A Proustian Plan

I've been psyching myself up for this for a while, and last night, I plunged in.

Two years ago, I would never have considered reading Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time (or Remberance of Things Past). I hate giganticly thick books, series of books, and, thanks to forced lessons in grades one through nine, pretty much anything having to do with the French language and literature. I knew Proust worked in a cork-lined room and that's all I needed to know.

Lately, there's been a gradual erosion of the wall keeping In Search of Lost Time out of my life, so gradual I can barely pinpoint the events that did the work. I read Madame Proust and the Kosher Kitchen for my book club two years ago and found out a little about Proust that way, and there have been other little dribs and drabs of things coming into my brain that changed my mind. By January, it seemed that reading In Search of Lost Time would be a good idea. I bought a copy of the recent translation of Swann's Way by Lydia Davis and put it on my shelf. A friend who knew of my change of intentions (and frequently supplies me with books) found the second volume of a two-part set (the Moncrieff translation) and gave it to me, so I had Book I and Books 5-7. I found volume one of the set at a book sale last month, as well as a biography of Proust. Now it was just a matter of reading them.

Perhaps I should mention a couple of things about me and intentions. In January I decided to start my own book club (with myself as the sole member), and this year I would (for some reasons I can't recall) I would read books in translation, one per month. I have been following through with this. But for the most part, my intentions mean SWA (Sweet Fuck All). I'll decide this or that, and then get excited about something else and dump my previous plans to make more intentions. I was very sorrowful when I read St. Theresa of Aliva's The Interior Castle. She advocates lowballing your plans, so if you do exceed these (and meet your original goal), you have done Good. On the other hand, if you fall short of your intentions, you have done Bad and invited the devil in. I invite the devil in a lot.

So I wasn't really even certain that I would actually read the books now waiting on my shelf. But it's a new month, and nothing was really grabbing me, so last night I picked up Swann's Way, and plunged in.

I read the first chapter. I loved it! The book went to something I think would be a good idea to read, to being a book I love to read. I am cautioning myself that there are many more chapters before I finish the book, then several more books before I finish the series, so I am not setting any intentions about when or if that will happen.

Okay, confession time. I'm also using this as an excuse to politely worm my way out of my book club. It's been great over the past three years, but everyone else is a retired teacher, and here I am, thirtysomething, unmarried, distinctly not a teacher--very different experiences and opinions. I call myself the "random outlier", the little bit of data that is so unlike everything else that it is conveniently shaved off because it doesn't support the conclusions. I really knew it was time to go when I was comparing a love affair in the novel, set in 18th c. Newfoundland, with the relationships in the latest episode of Doctor Who. Dead silence. Okay then, I certainly need more time to read books on my own then.