Week-ends are for reading. Especially when week-ends come after weeks which don’t look like weeks. Time to pause. When you have the possibility. Time to keep in mind the many people who can’t afford that luxury.
Reading Proust this morning. “A la recherche du temps perdu” “In search of the lost time”. I could not stop thinking how Marcel Proust would have considered close to 4 billions people confined. In a way confinement was an important part of his life and one source of inspiration. And this is how he wrote till the end. Will this strange and difficult
period see a new Proust emerge ? I had a big smile and felt an immense gratitude !
In an interview of himself which he did not signed in Le Temps in 1913 on the occasion of the release of the Swan’s way (du côté de chez Swann) he wrote :
“In the rooms whose shades are almost always shut, Mr. Marcel Proust is lying down. The electric light accentuates his matte complexion, but two admirable eyes full of life and fervor exude light under a forehead buried beneath his hair. Mr. Marcel Proust is still a slave to illness, but one can no longer sense it when the writer, asked to explain himself on his work, becomes animated and speaks.”
