Messing with the Classics

Nobody except the Monty Python gang messes with Proust, except respectfully.  Here is a stimulating article.  I am finding more and more good stuff in the Guardian. Update the classics at your own risk  


I don't think anything is actually "sacred" but of course bowdlerizing Mark Twain by removing the "N' word from Huck Finn and substituting "slave" is the height of wrong-mindedness.  Without television and radio and youtube and cell phone cameras and our new devices,  we only have first hand accounts and diaries revealing real speech.  And prudery in  revealing real speech and committing it to  paper and on film was a problem until the sixties when movies came of age and then HBO did it for television.  Can you imagine the Sopranos without the "F" word?  How did they speak in the wild west?  Building the railroads?  On the Erie Canal.   Did the Pony Express riders swear?  Did women?  Ever?  Who knows.


Occasionally Proust surprises us with some comment or sexual revelation, and it's so seldom one hardly knows what to think?   Ah, Marcel, you persist in puzzling me. 


Not being into so-called "celebrities," I have no idea who Jerry Hall is, but I do concur that she probably doesn't read Proust, at least in toto. We could pop over to Britain and give her a pop quiz on which reception was the most boring and on what was served as La Raspeliere at the Verdurin dinners.  Ha ha.  We all flunk. 

Should Proust be updated?  What a Gargantuan task that would be. 

Wondering, 

Odette  

Become Proust for a Week

This article tells you how to make the Proust tour of Normandy.  Had to admit I was practically drooling, mostly thinking of the oysters, but also the Proustian ambiance in every corner.  Imagine the grande  promenade and the sea views and examining (don't touch!) the tapestries  and driving a convertible and staying in the beloved hotels.  They're not even THAT pricey.  I am practically swooning as my imagination plays out a week like this.


Live Life of Proust for a Week  


Of course, you probably will need a stylish new wardrobe, but no Galliano, please.  Poor man.  It must have been the strain.  Silk and linen and organic  cottons will do, and if jeans, only the skinniest, priciest ones.  Good luggage, natch, maybe some vintage leather Hartmans.  Of course you have a doorman to carry, so wheels not necessary.   Some big wonderful sun glasses, and an old-fashioned wicker picnic hamper with all the accroutements.   How lovely to imagine.  I am just about ready to book my flight.

Vintage Leather Harmann luggage

And we absolutely must visit Elstir's studio.  Oh, alas, he's imaginary but a visit to Giverney will  be a good substitute.


Pack your (vintage) suitcase with some new duds and let's get out of here.  Mais oui!

Wine, Bread, Pate and fruit, n'est pas?

Odette, swooning

"Proust" concert in The Big Apple

Found on Craig's List, of all crazy things.  Alas, I can't be in New York on this date, but wouldn't it be inspiring to hear the musical works that inspired Proust?  And maybe even catch the "petite phrase" from the Sonata?


If you're a Proustian and in New York, go for it! 


Proust Concert in NYC 

Odette, the Foxborough one

The Goon Squad, Proust and the Sopranos

I loved the HBO series, The Sopranos, I love Proust, and ergo I will surely love Jennifer Egan's prize-winning book, A Visit from the Goon Squad.  Sounds like my cuppa tea with the Madeline dunked in, or maybe an Oreo in milk. 
Read the review here: A Visit From the Goon Squad   Egan said her book was partially inspired by The Sopranos and In Search of Lost Time.  Egad! 


I haven't been posting because a) I've been writing, or rather rewriting, b) social networking to publicize that The Shadow Warriors is on the Kindle c) taking a "pacing" class d) exchanging manuscripts with a friend, and d, well, you know, staying busy.  In addition. the interesting Proust posts have more or less dried up.  Now that doesn't mean that Proust is a flash in the pan; maybe the other bloggers are doing a-d too. 

Feelings of guilt assail me when I neglect our Narrator too long.   The New England winter has been brutal and part of the time I found myself napping and watching TV.  

Here's so a lovely summer in Balbec and a spring with the hawthorns blooming along the byways. 

The Other Odette 

Reading Proust on the Metro?

The interesting Proust posts have dried up, and so has, currently my reading.  I'm editing a just completed novel of mine (suspense), and trying to get another one ready for the Kindle.  And sending out stories and poems.   And taking a class.  And doing "stuff" for my Toastmasters club.  And coping with winter and cooking up a storm and ... well, you know.  I had to read a book for my class, so got that done.  A wonderful literary suspense novel  called, "The Whole World."  Published in 2010.  Proust, I think, would approve. 


Today I found this really cool photo.  Note the sepia tones.  Assume one of the two people reading is reading Proust.  The girl?  Obviously not the whole work but maybe  the first volume. Swann in Love?   It's always wonderful to see someone reading on the commuter train or the subway.  Take a look.  


Reading Proust on the Train  


One of these days I'll get back to Marcel.  By now, I'm so deep into the reading and it has been going on for so long and the plot is the novel itself, so it's not like I have to re-orient myself if I put it down for a couple months.  That's the nice thing about Proust.  You can dip into him over a lifetime once you've read the whole novel once.  And always find something different, something wonderful, something, dare we say it, sublime?  Ah Marcel.

Belle Epoque Jewelry from Proust "survivor"

Mon Dieu!  Such lovely pieces and what a great story.  The model for Elstir.  How I love the scene with Marcel and Albertine in Elstir's studio.

I particularly covet the gold cigarette case, the ladybug and the little box.  And don't the prices seem reasonable for such beautiful baubles?   Imagine someone from the Belle Epoque living into our times.  What a lot of history.  The changes we have undergone simple boggle the mind.  Oh my! 


Here is the lovely article with the photos.   Jewelry from the time of Proust  

Madame Guermantes

It's a movement!  Really weird how all of a sudden bloggers, by which I mean Proust bloggers will jump on the same scene, character, or subject matter of the Great Work.  This week, a blond lady of distinction has that honor.  Have to confess I never liked her, but then if  you really think about it, who except the Grandmother and the narrator (and he sometimes whines)  are really likable in Proust?  I used to be fond of St. Loup, but he became so tedious with Rachel.  Swann was sympathetic, but he seemed remarkably  blind to Odette's faults.  Maybe the volume should have been titled as "Blind In Love," instead of "Swann In Love."  I don't know.  


Think about it.   Do you gossip about your friends?  Do you have just an ever-so-slight love of Schadenfreude?  We are all unsympathetic in many ways.  Long live Proust for portraying us, warts and all.  


Here is another reference to that Guermantes woman.  Madame Guermantes  

Madame Guermantes

Another blogger who finds Proust's (and Marcel's) relationship with Mme. de Guermantes complex.  I haven't found much in the way of good Proust blogging lately, and I'm been doing edits on a novel of my own, battling the rip-roaring New England winter, and whatever, making big pots of soup to keep us warm.  


In NYC over the weekend, amazed and aghast at the Totally Buried cars, the slush, the possibility of breaking your ankle with a misstep.  And the variety of boots!  More amazing, still. I wore an ancient pair of Sperry  "Marsh Boots," which I call  swamp boots when I am not calling them sh__kickers.  
Just to look at the footwear and the leg wear (anyone for jeggings or skinny jeans?) at the Whitney yesterday in the Edward Hopper show was trippy.  Proust would have been at home at the Whitney, swathed in scarves and greatcoats.  We were all swathed.  


Here is the blogger's link for a good read about the Guermantes lady.  


The duchess de Guermantes  

Onward, 

The Other Odette

Which Translation of Proust

I am  deep, deep into the Scott Montcrief translation, because those are the volumes I've had since college.  They are ratty and the bindings look like hell, but the age and the tradition redeems these old books in my eyes. Sometime, I will read Lydia Davis, too. 


Here is a literate discussion (aren't all discussions of Proust literate) of the various translations.  The important thing, the only thing is to READ PROUST.   Of course, the original is best, but my rusty, school girl French would never succeed. 


Which Translation of Proust  

Happy 2011!

I hope to finish the last books of Temps Perdu this year.   I've been shilly-shallying too long.  Onward.  But please, Marcel, a few less dinner parties. 
No madelines have issued from my kitchen yet, and perhaps that should be another resolution.  Finish Proust, bake Madelines.


Et maintenant? 


Odette

I found Proust on Flickr!

Three ways of reading Proust
What would Marcel, the narrator think of e-books and the Kindle?  


My novel of technology and desire, The Shadow Warriors, just came out on the Kindle for $2.99.  Below is the link.  The novel is framed by an "Info War" that is disrupting life world wide after malicious software agents penetrate computer systems.  My sleuth is a computer security sleuth, and she bites off more than she can chew, romance-wise as well as with some scary new technology.  


Here are some excerpts from reviews of the trade paperback and a link to the Amazon Kindle website.  This book marries technology, story-telling, international travel, even food.  What's not to like? 

All of the characters are believable and richly crafted, and the plot is something you might find in an Ian Fleming novel: taking us to foreign cities and cultures, rich with language and cuisine that are reflected delightfully within the prose.”  Odyssey Reviews

“A techno-thriller for men AND women.”  Al Past, Reviewer

“I found the description of computer sleuthing and the development of soft-ware weapons that would bring the cyber universe to its knees hit the right balance between technology and a rip-roaring good story.”  Scott Kimmich, Reviewer

“. . . I could believe in each of the characters and their interrelationships and also because Copek's Raymond Chandlerish repartee is witty without being wearing.”  Lowell Thing, WhatIs

“This is an excellent fast-paced cyberthriller, full of deceptions and high-tech intrigue.”  Kestrel

The Shadow Warriors

End of BSP, i.e. blatant self-promotion, and back to Proust and the Guermantes and the Verdurins and Cottard and all of our French friends.

Recipe for Madeleines

I found my madeleine molds, so there is no longer an excuse not to make them.  The molds are so petite, and the cookies will be extremely delicate.  Hope my cooking skills are up to the task.  The spirit of Proust will guide me.  I think this is an old recipe from the Sunday New York Times, possibly under Craig Claiborne's reign.


Madelines
4 eggs at room temperature
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 cup butter, melted and cooled


1.  Grease well and flour pans for for dozen madelines.  If only have as many pans are avilable, cut the recipe in half and make the second batch after the first is completed.  This is because the butter, on standing, settles and causes a heavy rough bottom layer.  Place racks near the bottom of the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. 


2.  Beat the eggs with the salt, adding sugar gradually until the mixture is pale and very thick.  The mixture drops from the beaters to form a rope that gradually disappears.  Add vanilla. 


3.  Sift about one-quarter of the flour at a time over egg mixture.  Fold it in until no more flour show. 


4.  Add the butter, about a tablespoon at a time and fold it in as quickly as possible.  Fill the prepared pans about three-quarters full, place in oven immediately and bake until brown, about 10 minutes.


Yield:  About four dozen. 


Somewhat intimidating, no?  We shall see what happens. 

Reading Proust On Trains

I am still plowing through the Verdurin's dinner party at Raspelier, the country place high on the bluffs overlooking the Atlantic not too far from Balbec.  So far I've gleaned the menu partially consists of a) bouillabaise,  b) a fish and c) a strawberry concoction for dessert.  Mme. Verdurin is as always, vain and cunning and cruel as is her mate.  They haven't changed much since they savaged Swann.  


A comic moment was when the hostess mentioned Elstir's wife-to-be was a common "streetwalker" and Elstir, the painter, fell out of favor.  Odette, of course, was a courtesan whose favor they shamelessly curried at the expense of poor Swann.   Ah, the irony. 


We are reading and blogging Proust in Foxborough, and here is a gentleman who reads Proust on trains, maybe even in Arkansas, a state not normally on my radar, and  one I do not associate with Proust. 
Take a look for yourself.  Reading Proust on Trains  

I see the blogger has used the same photo of Proust that I have.  Hmmmm.  Must put Proust and blogging on the back burner for some Christmas cookies.  More anon. 

Odette

Blogging Proust for the Holidays

I've been reading Proust before bedtime, and somehow, now we are at an endless dinner party at the Verdurin's rented house  in the neighborhood of Balbec, at least close enough for a short train ride (with complications).  The Verdurin's decorating is critiqued.  A fish is served for dinner.  The food is seldom mentioned.  I guess that is because the conversation is so scintillating or that everyone is jockeying for social position and might as well be eating cardboard.


Except that these people are FRENCH!   Can you believe it?  I would so love to know what is served?  Of course Mrs. V. doesn't cook it herself, mais non!  Charlus is there and Cottard and the part of the "little clan" that summers in Balbec or environs.  It is amazing sometimes, that Proust can write so freakin' many words and yet neither the house nor characters are not offered much physical description.  Everything is in the head.  Not how we write today.  No talking heads allowed.  Nope.  None. 


A couple of blogs have caught my eye and you might want to check them out.  And I haven't forgotten my promise to publish the Madeline recipe.  Bear with me.

The Prisioner

Vision in Combray: Proust Beyond the Madeleines Concluded \\

I am looking forward to progress in Sodom and Gomorrah and then on to the rest of the books, because the last one is the best but one has to "earn" it by reading the whole work.  

Odette