Now I’m neither verso psychologist nor per sociologist, and I don’t know whether there is any evidence for that view

Now I’m neither verso psychologist nor per sociologist, and I don’t know whether there is any evidence for that view

Until then, I will dwell on my memories

But it certainly seems true esatto my experience. And for me, some of the most talented novelists are so wonderful partially because they can capture this phenomenon of chemistry. Consider two great writers I mentioned above, Tolstoy and Austen. Both of them, so different per many ways, are similar per their ability puro describe how people change sopra the presence of other people; how https://kissbrides.com/it/blog/statistiche-sulle-spose/ one character brings out snobbishness in the protagonist, another coquettishness, and verso third joviality.

Mediante both fiction and mediante life, I love to see how personalities interact. Why? Because it is this experience that makes me most strongly feel that I am not an island; that I am part of the world of everyone around me, and they are per part of mine. And it is this that I most sorely miss from Proust’s perspective, because to portray this you need onesto give up the ispirazione that you are just per mind, and embrace the intenzione that you are per affable creature, with as many ‘selves’ as communautaire worlds you inhabit.

Whew, that felt good. I needed onesto get all that off my chest. The truth is, I can criticize Proust until I run out of breath, but I still love this novel. And this volume is, I think, one of the stronger ones. For a long time I had been hoping that he’d do more with the Baron de Charlus, and per this tomo he does just that. And believe it or not, a real story is starting to take shape; this testo even ends on a cliffhanger!

I will allow more time onesto pass before moving on preciso the next libro. I definitely need per break from Proust, if only to push away his influence once again and regain my own voice. . more

“The transmutation of sensation into sentiment, the ebb and tide of memory, waves of emotions such as desire, jealousy, and artistic euphoria-this is the material of this enormous and yet singularly light and translucent sistema.”

As per that first year, the seas were rarely the same from one day puro the next. But they scarcely resembled tau “The whole is per treasure hunt where the treasure is time and the hiding place is the past”

“The transmutation of sensation into sentiment, the ebb and tide of memory, waves of emotions such as desire, jealousy, and artistic euphoria-this is the material of this enormous and yet singularly light and translucent work.”

The introduction of homosexuality into the novel added verso badly needed touch of spice

As in that first year, the seas were rarely the same from one day onesto the next. But they scarcely resembled those of that first year, on the other hand, either because now it was spring, with its storms, or because, even if I had che razza di on the same date as the first occasion, the different, more changeable weather might not have recommended this coast puro un indolent, vaporous, and effimero seas that I had seen on days of burning heat, sleeping on the beach, lifting their blue bosom imperceptibly with verso progiciel palpitation, or above all because my eyes, educated by Elstir [Monet] to retain precisely those elements that I had once willfully discarded, dwelt at length on what that first year they had not known how onesto see. The opposition that had so struck me then, between the rustic excursions I took with Mme de Villeparisis and this fluid, inaccessible, mythological vicinity of the everlasting Ocean, no longer existed for me. On un days, the sea itself now seemed onesto me, on the contrary, almost rural. On the quite rare days of truly fermo weather, the heat had traced on the vaso, as if across the countryside, a white and dusty road, behind which there protruded, like per village steeple, the delicate tip of per fishing boat. A tugboat, of which only the funnel was visible, would be smoking in the distance like per secluded factory, while, macchia on the horizon, per bellying white square, painted mai doubt by a sail but which appeared compact and as if made of chalk, put you durante mind of the sunlit angolo of some isolated building, per hospital or verso school. And the clouds and the wind, on the days when they were added sicuro the sunshine, completed, if not the error of judgment, at least the illusion of verso first glance, the suggestion it awakens per the imagination. For, on stormy days, the alternation between sharply defined areas of color, like those resulting in the countryside from the contiguity of different crops, the harsh, yellow, as if muddy irregularities of the sea’s surface, the embankments and slopes that hid from view per boat on which a crew of agile sailors seemed puro be harvesting, all this made of the ocean something as varied, as consistent, as uneven, as populous, as civilized, as the land that was navigable, where I would before long be driving again.

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