Archive for March, 2010


Filled With Mirth

March 27, 2010

Ah a little Ms Wharton sounds quite the delight.  I’m ready for a laugh so this mirth-filled journey to a house will be just the change of pace I need after finishing Zeitoun by Dave Eggers (Hurricane Katrina, Xenophobia), About A Mountain by John D’Agata (Storing Nuclear Waste In A Mountain, Suicide) and Love Is A Four Letter Word (A collection of about 20 writers remembering past break-ups).   I’m ready for a jolly read-along.

And I’ve decided that while we read this book in tandem I’ll also read Hermoine Lee’s tome of a biography on Wharton.  That way I can drop interesting life nuggets into our conversation.  The blog will now be both entertaining (for us) and informative (for all)!

Here’s a first go…Edith Wharton lived for a while (most of her life?) in New York.  And she knew (was friends with?) Henry James.

Look its fun already!

I have a copy of Mirth so I will start reading soon (maybe this weekend!).

Mirthfully yours,



Bon Nuit, Marcel!

March 25, 2010

***Note:  This was actually written on Monday…but it looks like I forgot to push the “publish” button.  Well here it is, better late than never…but  if things don’t make sense chronologically you’ll just have to imagine that you’re reading this on Monday (hence all the references to Two and a Half Men)

That’s right twin I’m putting this book to bed.  I officially finished the book yesterday while I sat and waited for a diner in Brooklyn (not terribly creatively called Diner) to open and serve me some brunch while on vacation.  So as I salivated over thoughts of sticky buns, bloody mary’s and eggs six different ways I made my way through the end of volume one Proust’s mega-novel.

And since I’m posting the end of the book first here on the blog I’m claiming this title as a victory for me.  Really its a victory on many levels.  (Those levels–1.  I’m reporting finishing first 2. I actually found a book we both liked).

As Mme. Cottard says of Marchard’s portrait, “you aren’t fashionable, you aren’t really cultured, you aren’t up-to-date, unless you have an opinion…”

Well an opinion I have and its definitely pro-Proust.  I was using this selection as a test case for future Proust reading and I think I’m definitely going to delve into volume 2 of À la recherche du temps perdu. If for no other reason than to learn the narrator’s name (btw…irony police let’s put an APB on the last section of this book where the narrator extols the names of things and then refuses (blatantly!) to give his name) and to find out just what level of creepiness our nameless friend achieves as an adult…first the over the top mother loving and now his stalker-ish tendencies towards Gilberte–not to mention that caginess about his name.

But that reading can be on my own…what, dear twin, will we read next in tandem?

On the edge of my seat,



Broken Silences

March 24, 2010

Hello Twin Brother,

No doubt you were thinking that I had all but forgotten about my blogging duties. (Do you like how I assume that I can read your mind? Move over, Kreskin. Next thing you know I will be bending spoons with my mind.) Well, I thought it was about time I broke my blog silence and provide some parting thoughts on Swann’s Way.

Yes, that’s right, I said “parting thoughts.” The reason for my self-imposed silence is because I actually finished the book full of fun over a week and I thought it best I refrain from posting my various and profound thoughts on the closing portions of the novel as I might inadvertently give away a key plot point and ruin your enjoyment of the rest of the book. You know, it would be sort of like telling someone the end of the movie version of A Walk to Remember while they are in the midst of being smitten with the charming early scenes with Mandy Moore. (Damn that movie for breaking my heart–The Love Story–Not that that’s a very high bar–of our generation, I say.)

All in all, I have to admit I really enjoyed the book. It can be exhausting to read, and some of the observations Proust made probably could have been more simply stated (e.g. asparagus is good) in sum total it is a beautifully written book and there are some spectacular sentences. (And you know what I sucker I am for a nice sentence.)

Proust also gave me a new favorite euphemism: Making cattleya. In fact, I can’t wait for the next person to jump in line ahead of me or cut me off in traffic so that I can yell out with righteous indignation, “Hey buddy, go cattleya yourself!” When I’m greeted with a look of confusion, I’ll follow it up with: “Well, I guess someone never read Proust.”

And then I will run.

As fast as I can. (I don’t really like confrontation.)

Well, that about sums it for me. I would be interested in hearing your thoughts. Oh, and before I forget, I’ve been thinking about our next book. I am thinking Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth. Get yourself a copy, and let me know when you are ready to read.



What We Think About When We Should Be Reading Proust

March 15, 2010

Oh twin…I have stalled in the reading of Proust (once again!).  The very virtues you extol in your previous post are all the things that catch me up when I sit down to read.  The combination of the lyrical prose and long meandering sentences equals a one-two punch on my interest level.  After a quick shake of my head to revive my flagging eyelids I usually throw my copy of Swann on to the sofa and turn on the Amazing Race (P.S.  I haven’t seen tonight’s episode yet–so no spoilers!   I’m waiting to watch it tomorrow when once again I pick up Proust only to give up a fit of loathing that is equally pointed at me and Marcel (for god’s sake man couldn’t you employ a single declarative sentence?!).

Anyway since you’re further along than me perhaps you know the answers to some of the questions I think about when I should be reading ahead.

1.)  Does Odette marry Swann?  Is she the unfortunate match referred to in part one?

2.)  If so…is our nameless narrator preparing to go through a similar path to the one encountered between Swann and Odette in “Swann in Love” with Swann’s daughter?  (Swann’s Path = Swann’s Way–what does this title mean!?)

I know the parallels aren’t perfect…for instance the nameless narrator seems quite chummy with the father of his love (i.e. Swann) while Swann (the earlier incarnation) doesn’t appear to know Odette’s father from Adam.  (Unless of course Odette’s father makes an entrance late in the novel!  If he does I hope he’s a fictional father along the lines of the John Goodman in Coyote Ugly–blustery, curmudgeonly, but deep down inside he just wants his daughter to succeed…no matter how many table tops she has to dance on top of!)

Well it’s late…so I probably won’t try to crack open Swann‘s tonight–that would be a one-way ticket to Slumberland and I have laundry to do yet.

But tomorrow.  I promise.

Night, night



Euphemisms 101

March 13, 2010

I will be the first to grant that Marcel Proust is an author of many talents. Beautifully written, flowing, multi-clause sentences. Thought provoking ideas. A microscopic eye for detail. But one area where the man could really use some help is in the ol’ euphemism departments. You touched on this a few posts ago with your exploration of everyone’s favorite flower, the cattleya.

At first, I was willing to give Proust the benefit of the doubt. I thought flower as metaphor for sex–sure, why not? But then it happened: I would like to call your attention to page 384:

“Besides that time (the first time they ‘made cattleya’) when she told him she was coming from Maison Doree…”

That’s right Swann and Odette don’t “Get Busy” “Get it on” “Make whoopee” (am I the only one who misses The Newlywed Game?). No, no, they “make cattleya.”

Does that even make sense? Can you “make” a flower? Really, wouldn’t anything have been better?

I just finished Part II: Swann in Love. I have plans of truckin’ on through Part III and then I will be bidding adieu to Proust, Swann, Odette, Dr. Cottard, and this whole entire wacky bunch.

See you on the other side of Swann’s Way.



In Search of Lost Blog Posts

March 2, 2010


So it appears that the blog post I wrote on February 27th never showed up. This is a shame for several reasons:

Reason 1: I wrote the entire post on my phone. That’s right, I sat meticulously tapping buttons on my iPhone touch screen for hours. All for the sake of making several insightful comments on the travails of love, complex metahpor, and long, long sentences.

In other words: All things Proust.

Reason 2: I was ahead of the game and posted you happy birthday wishes ealry. Hours (hours, I say!) before our actual birthday occured. Thereby demonstrating my “on the ball-ness” and showing how thoughtful of an individual I am. 

Reason 3: I naturally used the exclamation “Egads!” in my post.

Now, it appears that the internet gods have taken my post as their latest sacrafice and I am stuck writing this frighteningly less original post.

Oh well, I am nearly done with the book, and am hoping to finish it up this week. (It appears that moving really can cut into your Proust reading schedule.)