Swann's Way: Volume 1 (Remembrance of Things Past)

As ever, I am writing a review for the physical book, not a book review on the content. Although there are exceptions, I do not think Amazon reviews are the best place to get informed opinions of literary merit, especially when so much information is now available online that is far more erudite and engaging. As such, this review considers the edition, focusing on the publisher, design, layout, and quality of the book. This is not a judgement on those who review books on Amazon (I do sometimes) but rather reflects what I want in a review when I am buying. (Although with Proust, as one of the most influential and celebrated writers of the twentieth century, surely there is already enough critical and literary commentary to satisfy any desire for further knowledge, making a review of his work somewhat redundant here?)Anyway, Penguin Classics 2003 edition of The Way by Swann’s, part of the whole: In Search of Lost Time series by Marcel Proust. I chose this edition to start reading Proust after extensively researching the history of the translation of Proust into English, and was therefore extremely happy when I found I could buy the first book of the series on Amazon. It is sold much cheaper than the stated price on the back of the book, and considering the rich enjoyment Proust brings, represents excellent value for money. It has the usual quality one associates with Penguin although the text is rather small -- understandable due to the scale of the novel and the extra sections that need to be included with Proust, ie. Translator notes, general editor notes, general notes, synopsis etc.One particularly pleasing aspect of these mint green Modern Classics editions is their methodical layout. The cover art is presented as a band across the book cover, leaving space for the individual title and series title, which for me personally, is a joy. It may seem fussy, but there is something rather fitting in the wordy organisation of the massive whole, that lends itself beautifully to Proust. I think taken together, these collected editions as In Search of Lost Time will look fantastic on the bookshelf. As I already mentioned, above, I had already done my research on the translations, so the fact that these books are also beautiful and a joy to read is just a fortuitous bonus; that they are also available on Amazon, and cheap, simply makes them perfect.However, although seemingly perfect, should you consider buying this first volume, with a view to reading Proust in his entirety via this collection, then it is important to know that the second volume is not available on Amazon -- which I found out, much to my chagrin, after finishing the first. It is listed, but out of stock (and seemingly has been for a while). To compound this, unscrupulous sellers seem to be capitalising on this by offering second-hand copies at exorbitant prices. In the end, I managed to locate and buy a used copy from a book shop (peculiarly) in Paris for a reasonable price. However, it turns out that the Modern Classics editions sold here, are in fact, a reprint. The original 2003 Penguin Classics editions (which my copy of volume two is) are different in design. Though this in no way diminishes the joy of reading Proust it is a little annoying, and, more importantly, is something to bear in my mind when buying this edition. I have attached a picture comparing the editions in case anyone is interested.If you enjoyed this review, and have similar literary tastes to me, then I have reviewed other works on Amazon in a similar manner.

A triple story of unrequited love, told with incredible emotional detail and brilliant evocation of each scene and moment. Extremely convoluted sentence construction and an extraordinary vocabulary make this a work that requires concentration. Read the gorgeous Montcrieff translation or better still read this in French.Five hundred pages, four chapters, very few paragraphs and only about one full stop per page; this book requires the most intense concentration just to work out where you are in each sentence. Proust starts on one point and then, through sub-clauses, parenthesis, asides, recollections, similes, retrenchments, remembrances and speculations ends up at the punch line of a shaggy dog story or in jerking the plot forward almost exactly when you felt he had forgotten the point altogether. He never pauses for breath, so that this is not a book you can take to bed intending to read to the end of the chapter or next piece of the action because Proust simply rolls on and on, each thought connecting to the next like waves on a shore. It's perfectly possible to lose your place on a page, or to be distracted away from the text, and for it to make no difference to the connectedness of the narrative. But to skim along would be to miss the point, which is the unbelievable verve, panache, creativity and sheer gold-plated excellence of the writing - it is quite sublime and quite impossible for the lay man to describe accurately. The nearest I can get are the word paintings of the British Victorian art critic John Ruskin, which marvelously and concretely recreate the works of art or scenes Ruskin wished to bring to the reader's mind. Proust translated Ruskin into French - and may have absorbed his style - but Proust is looser, less stiffly British than Ruskin and brings emotional as well as descriptive colour to his prose.Famously, Proust is said to be writing about memory and this is true but somewhat unhelpful to the new reader - I suspect that part of the reason people are put off reading Proust is the mystique and misdirection that surrounds his work ("ah, the Madeleine", you hear people in the know say, without enlightening the uninitiated). So, in brief then the plot concerns two (no, really three) love stories. The central plot is concerned with Charles Swann, a wealthy middle class socialite who falls in love with the courtesan Odette de Crécy. The reader knows her trade, everyone else in the story knows her trade but the story is told entirely from Swann's point of view and he does not want to know her trade; he is madly, hopelessly and inappropriately in love with Odette and the story follows their relationship. At first she appears to be infatuated with him but as the years pass she moves on and she treats him with contempt and disdain. His love never falters and, but we are not told how or when or what her motives are, he eventually marries her. This story is book-ended by the narrator's own tale of his love affair as a child with Charles and Odette's daughter, Gilberte. This story exactly reflects Swann's experience of unrequited love but the narrator, instead of marrying Gilberte to keep his memories of their relationship alive (which would be impossible as they are children), decides instead that it is better to have the memory than the person, so that he and Swann have the same experience but end up in different places. The third love affair is between the narrator as a boy and his mother, who is pulled away from her loving and sensitive son both by household and wifely duty and a sense that he should not be mollycoddled. The boy lives in hope for the slightest sign of affection from her, and so pre-cursing the later love affairs of both Swann and the boy.It's no spoiler to have given you the plot outline, because what matters is how the stories unfold, which is entirely through sensation, sense, desire, experience, excitement, hope and disappointment. Proust does all the same things as other novelists, he has a cast of varied characters, he moves the plot through a sequence of key events, he provides moments of light and shade, of humour, anger, social commentary, poetry, ribaldry and sadness but he does it all with such a sensuous and lyrical world view that this is a work quite unlike any other I have read. It's not an easy read, I'm not even sure it's an enjoyable read, but it is absolutely remarkable and substantial.Finally, I suspect that this book only really makes sense in French, because the vocabulary used and the complexity of the way sentences have been constructed must make translation nearly impossible. I read the original Montcrieff translation, which is quite beautiful. There is a newer Penguin Classics translation now entitled `The Way of Swann's" rather than "Swann's Way". But the title "Swann's Way" is a pun, being both the local name of a walk that goes past Swann's house and referring to Swann's journey or way through life; so I don't see how "The Way of Swann's", which is virtually meaningless in English, can be a better translation that the original Montcrieff. For that reason I stuck with the old School. (in French it's published as Du côté de chez Swann if you want to try your own translation)