lauren in japan

Bad news. Every thought you've ever thought you thought was clever or individualistic or fantastically observant was already thought by Marcel Proust. And not only did he think thoughts you thought were your thoughts, he recorded them beautifully, masterfully, in detail, like they were nothing at all but commonplace -- which they are, and were -- and that's horrifying and humbling and, sometimes, oddly comforting.

I've been reading Swann's Way now for months. It used to be that the only time I had to read it was on the train to and from work, but now it's my rule. I can only read it on the train to and from work -- and so the months have added up -- but it kind of has to be my rule, because it's so detailed and involved I need a certain level of distraction (noise and crowds and being tossed about by insensitive train conductors) to keep un-distracted enough to read it. I've tried reading it, several times, in my apartment and at a few cafes -- but it's too quiet, too focused . I can't explain it, really. But I'll bet Proust frickin' could've, that talented bastard.