Swann's Way

With or without a madeleine in hand, I find Marcel Proust's writing absolutely captivating. I know, what a food-lover's cliche, right? While I'll admit it takes awhile to slow down my helter-skelter modern mind to Proust's ambling pace, but once I'm there it's actually very calming. Concentrating on a quarter-page long sentence about asparagus is undoubtedly more fun than dealing with the trials of modern life. 

And two thumbs up for the new translations, which are a collaboration amongst Proust scholars rather than a one-man project like the Moncrieff translations I read in college. Maybe I'm older and more patient, or maybe the translation needs of today's readers differ from those of Moncrieff's early twentieth century audience. In any case, the new translations flow better and are causing me to stop and re-read less less. It makes for a much smoother reading experience. Now, if only I had a madeleine.