Last night at midnight, energized by the latest "Mad Men," and wanting to get to sleep, I picked up Proust.
I can tell that readerwise, Sodom and Gomorrah will be a lot more fun than The Guermantes Way.
Marcel is spying on Charlus and sees him flirting with the tailor Jupien. Marcel realizes that Charlus is gay and a new understanding and realizations cascade through his brain while he continues to watch the two, even sneaking through a passageway so he can overhear them. Bad Marcel! For this we waded through endless pages of boring receptions. Worth the wait!
Of course, at midnight, tired by a long week and the late hour, I only read a few pages. Proust is not an "I sat down at six and didn't stop reading until I closed the book" kind of thriller. No indeedy. One savours Proust. And that little sneak Marcel. What a revelation.
The other Odette