Marcel Proust was born on July 10, 1871.
The philosophers have certainly persuaded us that time is a process of reckoning that corresponds to no reality. We know that, but the ancient superstition is so strong that we cannot escape it, and it seems to us that on a given date we are inevitably older, like the government, which finds that because it should be warm the 1st of April, after that central heating is no longer needed. For a long time we have found this ridiculous of the government, but for age we don’t find it so.Thanks, Mari, for reminding me of the date.
Marcel Proust, in a letter to Geneviève Bizet Straus, October or November 1912. From Letters of Marcel Proust, translated by Mina Curtiss (New York: Helen Marx Books / Books & Co., 2006).
Related reading
All Proust posts (Pinboard)
comments: 3
De rien, Michael.
Many thanks for the get-old-Google-Images-Search-Back tips, which I was lucky enough to find amidst a lot of angry posts on the relevant forum and which, delightfully, led me to your [blog?] and, even more delightfully, to your collection of Proust bookmarks. Made my day.
Myshkin, it’s great to hear from a fellow Proust-reader and to know that OCA has made your day. Thanks for telling me that, and as the signs in stores used to say, Please Call Again.
Post a Comment