Scan barcode
msaari's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Kolmas suomennos aloittaa alkuperäisen ranskalaisen toisen osan, Kukkaan puhkeavien tyttöjen varjossa. Se palkittiin aikoinaan Ranskan arvostetuimpiin kuuluvalla Goncourt-kirjapalkinnolla. Suomennoksessa kirja on jaettu kahteen osaan, joista ensimmäinen on Rouva Swannin ympärillä. Suomentajana jatkaa Inkeri Tuomikoski.
Kertoja-Marcel pääsee kohtaamaan idoleitaan: hän pääsee vihdoin teatteriin näkemään la Berman esiintymässä ja kohtaa illallisilla kirjailija Bergotten. Idolien kohtaamiseen liittyvät aina omat riskinsä, jotka näissäkin tapauksissa realisoituvat jossain määrin. Pääasiassa kirjan tapahtumat sijoittuvat kuitenkin rouva Swannin salonkiin, jonne kertojaa vetää tietysti edellisestä osasta tuttu Swannien tytär Gilberte.
Alussa kohdataan kuitenkin markiisi de Norpois, maineikas diplomaatti, joka ratkaisee kertojan kannalta keskeisen kysymyksen. Isähän halusi pojastaan diplomaatin, mutta ajatus joutumisesta lähettilääksi kaukaisiin pääkaupunkeihin pois Gilberten luota ei kertojaa miellytä. Isä pitää kertojan haaveilemaa kirjallista uraa diplomaatin uraa alempiarvoisena, mutta de Norpois vakuuttaa isän, että kirjailijana saattaa hankkia runsaasti vaikutusvaltaa.
Muuten sitten pyöritään Pariisin seurapiirielämän parissa ja analysoidaan porvariston hillittyä charmia terävästi. Odette eli rouva Swann on sosiaaliselta asemaltaan heikompi, kiitos taustansa ”puolimaailman naisena” eli kurtisaanina. Kertoja saa Gilberteltä kutsun teelle ja pääsee sitä kautta Swannien piireihin vakituiseksi vieraaksi, mikä onkin oikea toiveiden täyttymys. Swannien juhlissa kertoja kohtaa Bergottenkin.
Gilberten ja kertojan välinen suhde – niin vakavalta kuin se vaikuttaakin – ei kuitenkaan ole ikuinen. Vaikka välit menevät jopa poikki, Swannien vaikutuspiiristä kertoja ei kuitenkaan pääse niin vain. Swanneilla vierailee myös rouva Bontemps, jonka sukulaistyttö Albertine mainitaan pariinkin otteeseen – mutta kertoja ei vielä tässä vaiheessa Albertinesta innostu.
Proust jatkaa tyylilleen uskollisena, teksti virtaa vuolaasti sivu toisensa perään. Teksti on vähän raskasta lukea, mutta kaunista. Kovin suuresti tässä ei tapahdu – kirjan keskeisimmät tapahtumat on äkkiä listattu – mutta toisaalta pieniä käänteitä on siellä ja täällä ja jos kovin pintapuolisesti lukee, kaikenlaista voi jäädä huomaamatta. Kuten vaikkapa kertojan Gilberten kanssa painiskellessaan saama orgasmi. Kadonnutta aikaa etsimässä on edelleen kiehtova teos.
syyskuu's review against another edition
lighthearted
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
nekochan69's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
4.5
jeremiah's review
"Now the memories of love are no exception to the general laws of memory, which in turn are governed by the still more general law of Habit. And as Habit weakens everything, what best reminds us of a person is precisely what we had forgotten (because it was of no importance, and we therefore left it in full possession of its strength). That is why the better part of our memories exists outside us, in a blatter of rain, in the smell of an unaired room or of the first crackling brushwood fire in a cold grate: wherever, in short, we happen upon what our mind, having no use for it, had rejected, the last treasure that the past has in store, the richest, that which, when all our flow of tears seems to have dried at the source, can make us weep again. Outside us? Within us, rather, but hidden from our eyes in an oblivion more or less prolonged. It is thanks to this oblivion alone that we can from time to time recover the person that we were, place ourselves in relation to things as he was placed, suffer anew because we are no longer ourselves but he, and because he loved what now leaves us indifferent. In the broad daylight of our habitual memory the images of the past turn gradually pale and fade out of sight, nothing remains of them, we shall never recapture it. Or rather we should never recapture it had not a few words . . . been carefully locked away in oblivion, just as an author deposits in the National Library a copy of a book which might otherwise become unobtainable."
athenalindia's review
4.0
Two volumes in. One third of the way through this extremely long work, or series, or whatever it is. And it's hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that's keeping me interested. I am, but it's hard to say why. It's not the plot - there is barely any. It's in translation, so I'm sure I'm missing some of the nuance of the original. It's not so much the characters - other than the main one, the others are mostly sketches, and the main character is self-absorbed to the point of being irritating.
And yet.
Note: The rest of this review has been withheld due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
And yet.
Note: The rest of this review has been withheld due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
kastelpls's review
3.0
A quote:
"Sometimes the ocean filled almost the whole of my window, raised as it was by a band of sky edged at the top only by a line that was of the same blue as the sea, so that I supposed it to be still sea, and the change in colour due only to some effect of lighting. Another day the sea was painted only in the lower part of the window, all the rest of which was filled with so many clouds, packed one against another in horizontal bands, that its pane seemed, by some premeditation or predilection on the part of the artist, to be presenting a 'Cloud Study,' while the fronts of the various bookcases showing similar clouds but in another part of the horizon and differently coloured by the light, appeared to be offering as it were the repetition - dear to certain contemporary masters - of one and the same effect caught at different hours but able now in the immobility of art to be seen altogether in a single room, drawn in pastel and mounted under glass. And sometimes to a sky and sea uniformly grey a touch of pink would be added with an exquisite delicacy, while a little butterfly that had gone to sleep at the foot of the window seemed to be appending with its wings at the corner of this 'Harmony in Grey and Pink' in the Whistler manner the favourite signature of the Chelsea master. Then even the pink would vanish; there was nothing now left to look at."
"Sometimes the ocean filled almost the whole of my window, raised as it was by a band of sky edged at the top only by a line that was of the same blue as the sea, so that I supposed it to be still sea, and the change in colour due only to some effect of lighting. Another day the sea was painted only in the lower part of the window, all the rest of which was filled with so many clouds, packed one against another in horizontal bands, that its pane seemed, by some premeditation or predilection on the part of the artist, to be presenting a 'Cloud Study,' while the fronts of the various bookcases showing similar clouds but in another part of the horizon and differently coloured by the light, appeared to be offering as it were the repetition - dear to certain contemporary masters - of one and the same effect caught at different hours but able now in the immobility of art to be seen altogether in a single room, drawn in pastel and mounted under glass. And sometimes to a sky and sea uniformly grey a touch of pink would be added with an exquisite delicacy, while a little butterfly that had gone to sleep at the foot of the window seemed to be appending with its wings at the corner of this 'Harmony in Grey and Pink' in the Whistler manner the favourite signature of the Chelsea master. Then even the pink would vanish; there was nothing now left to look at."
More...