Pure Buffooneries

So, is this it? Is this that final, breathless sprint through the tape at the finish line? Have we come, fellow travelers, to the end of our road? No, no we haven't yet. Yes, this means that I am not on my original schedule. I fell behind. I also miscalculated (see: did not check how many pages my edition has in it- about 3,350) how many days would be required, at 100 pages read per day, to finish this series of novels. I fell behind about 4 days due to some extenuating circumstances at work that led to a few days of 10+ hours that left me with, upon arrival home, time either for a shower or a mere ten to fifteen pages read. These days I opted for showers, and in those days, fell some four hundred pages behind. Coupled with the 350 pages I failed to account for, I am about one week out to the end. I hope you'll stick around with me for these last few days!

Now that I've gotten the excuses out of the way, I'd like to reflect a little on something I came across while reading today:

"No doubt to every man the life of every other extends along shadowy paths of which he has no inkling. Lying, though it is so often deceptive and is the basis of all conversation, conceals less thoroughly a feeling of hostility, or of self-interest, or a visit which one wants to appear not to have paid, or a short-lived escapade with a mistress which one is anxious to keep from one's wife, than a good reputation covers up-to the extent of not letting its existence be guessed-sexual depravity." (Proust, 203)

There's rather a lot to consider in that passage. I'm going to give you a second to chew and swallow.

First off, the first line is fascinating and quite true. Much like I discussed in my last post, the mystery of the three dimensional-ness of the lives of others is remarkable. But, I spent plenty of time blabbering my way through that already, so onto that next section. 

Proust remarks that lying "is the basis of all conversation," which has a rather telling implication in regards to Proust's understanding of the world. Much like later in this chapter where Proust remarks upon the reality of hidden homosexuality, Proust is basing much of his views on social interactions of all kinds on the assumption that most people are almost always being dishonest with either themselves or those they are involved with. Especially, he seems preoccupied with the realities of closeted homosexuality. His obsession with dishonesty, in both sexuality and in conversation, is touched upon throughout all the books, though has grown more frequent in mention as the books have gone on. 

The power of his observations regarding dishonesty has left me in a troublesome place regarding his narrative: how much of what he has said so far has been a lie to me, his reader? Then again, how much would it matter if it had been true, if the narrative has had its intended effect? Something to ponder...