connection

 I enjoyed reading the first part of Proust’s book. The intricate detail in every scenery and memory was breathtaking and truly brought me to experience those feelings. He described many feelings I have felt before and ones I never knew how to put into words. One that stuck with me was the feeling and the difference between sleeping in summer to sleeping in your bed in winter. The particular things we long for and how each feeling is connected to physical material. This could be as simple as the corner of the pillow or the window open. My favourite part of the text was the first couple of opening lines, where Proust describes falling asleep and being so tired that his candle was still lit. He described the feeling of your eyes closing so quickly that you don’t have time to even think about it and say to yourself that you are falling asleep. I struggle with horrible insomnia, and specific material things help me sleep and comfort me. When Proust described all these feelings about sleep, it connected with me, and I felt a sense of relief to know that the feelings I think can be expressed into words because I have always struggled to explain them to others. Some parts confused me because Proust would go into outstanding detail about feelings from his childhood that did not make sense to me. Overall the story he told of his childhood home was fascinating because he brought into play the dynamics of his family and how each person affected how he felt. I was very intrigued by the story about him longing to kiss his mother. The anxiety and the rush of being afraid and taking a risk himself by interrupting her from something important made me feel like I was there in the room, feeling the same way he did. He described the longing for someone we love perfectly, and I can relate to it, which will make me hold this story at heart forever. Proust ties the first chapter in so nicely by describing how his tea and any taste or smell can trigger a memory. I have often had a particular food or smell that I haven’t come across since I was a child that has triggered a memory. This memory almost feels unreal because it takes a little of your mind to dig deep and remember. His reflection on figuring out what memory the tea was brought up was authentic. Things don’t just come in life, we have to find a meaning behind it; not everything is black and white. My favourite line from this chapter is comparing taste and smell to souls because they last forever. I highly recommend reading this piece of outstanding literature, and I am super excited to read the next part and dive deeper into Proust’s mind and a cup of tea. 

My question is: Why is Proust so attached to his mother and why is this image of a child needed there mothers comfort so bashed on?