It’s been quite a while since I last purchased a book, a work of fiction in physical book form, to read. I was reading an interesting book, on my iPad, The Miracle of Analogy; Or The History of Photography, Part-1 by Kaja Silverman, a very interesting work in its own right, and many references where made to Proust’s In Search of Lost Time. It got me thinking a bit about Proust, the man, as I remembered him and this singular and crazy complex effort he put out. Honestly, I could not convince myself that I’d read it though I felt sure I had. I was familiar with the legend which surrounds this work from Proust’s approach to sentence construction and the conveyance of an idea to the overall complexity of the collective work. As things tend to just work as they do, I found myself on travel for work and in a Barnes & Noble and well, there it was, and I purchased it.
I’d be less than honest if I did not confess that the entire episode struck me as odd. Buying a book! It’s only been three or four years since I committed to a digital library for everything which the printed page did not serve an unquestionable benefit.
Well, I kind of like it and I’m enjoying it. As for Proust, well, I’ve made some training excursions into his writing and have now come to terms with how you need to read him. I’m loving that as well. If you’ve never taken the time, do take a few and do a bit of research into Proust the man. What an interesting and compelling figure!