Pilgrimage / Pèlerinage





Reading Proust is of course a pilgrimage as such – and surely his soul lingers rather sous une haie d’aubépines (under a hawthorn hedge) than in a cemetery.

But still, his “little weatherman” might have loved the fleetingness of that shadow, appearing and disappearing with the itinerant sun & clouds.



3 comments:

Anonymous said...

a f(l)itting tribute. :-)

I have heard and read quite a bit about Proust, am yet to sample the feast myself. someday.

Ffflaneur said...

:-)
Oh, you would feast on Proust,you definitely would, dear Phoenix....

The “Recherche” is so meditative a work, and yet at the same time so full of the frenzied quest for happiness (or rather the desperate quest to quell unhappiness).

Anonymous said...

seems apt for our neurotic selfobsessed times... :-)