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Sodome et Gomorrhe chapter 1 Sodome et Gomorrhe, meaning Sodome et Gomorrhe, genre Sodome et Gomorrhe, book cover Sodome et Gomorrhe, flies Sodome et Gomorrhe, Sodome et Gomorrhe aed29e1df3787 Sodom And Gomorrah Now In A Superb Translation By John Sturrock Takes Up The Theme Of Homosexual Love, Male And Female, And Dwells On How Destructive Sexual Jealousy Can Be For Those Who Suffer It Proust S Novel Is Also An Unforgiving Analysis Of Both The Decadent High Society Of Paris, And The Rise Of A Philistine Bourgeoisie That Is On The Way To Supplanting It Characters Who Had Lesser Roles In Earlier Volumes Now Reappear In A Different Light And Take Center Stage, Notably Albertine, With Whom The Narrator Believes He Is In Love, And Also The Insanely Haughty Baron De Charlus


10 thoughts on “Sodome et Gomorrhe

  1. says:

    this is the volume of ISOLT that michael bay will turn into a big budget summer blockbuster, mark my words there are action verbs verbs, i tells ya and picture this on the big screen we open with our hero, crouching behind some flower bushes, unmoving waiting, just waiting for a bee to come around and assist in the pollination of the flowers pshow, whoosh many michael bayish essplosions and although not strictly supported by textual evidence, i expect his little sticky hand was at the ready to relieve his straining trousers should this act of hot plant sexx occur however his hopes are dashed by something even sexier happening right in front of the bushes pshow in the distance, an essplosion two men begin their courtship with birdlike posturing and an involved dance of invert attraction, which they consummate nearby, to the complicated emotions of our watcher assplosion WHO IS ACTUALLY A TRANSFORMER zooooom aerosmith song and after that, it is like a sexy veil is lifted from the world around him and he sees that there are same sex relations being pursued everywhere france is suddenly super gay, who would have thunk it and that is volume 4 also, for those of you who were concerned after the cliffhanger at the end of volume 3, where he was fretting for about 75 pages about whether he was actually invited to the party he was planning to attend regardless spoiler alert he WAS phew essplosion it is definitely the most readable volume thus far, unless my proust vaccine has just finally taken effect and i think this volume works just fine as a stand alone novel, whereas some of the others feel broken off this one has the humor and the bitterness for which proust is known, with fewer daydream y bits that make you want to shake him a little, like when the concussed try to take a nap.plus, this book does not end with a whisper, like some of the other ones, but with the bang of a firm, declarative statement ZING these reviews always sound as though i am not enjoying my proust experience, which isn t true, because i assure you, i am sometimes it feels like my brain is passing through glue, but there are so many rewarding passages in this volume primarily about the nature of jealousy and the way we perceive ourselves and the way we perceive how other people perceive us through different stages of our lives that are incredibly delicate and superfine in their language but seriously, you people don t need me to be reviewing proust my function on this site is that of a literary piglet, snuffling up the truffle books finding the unknown and the forgotten and nudging them to the surface having said that, i am about to start twilight, so that s one you people might want to keep on your radar promises were made.come to my blog


  2. says:

    Was ever grief seductively expressed I knew that now I could knock, loudly even, that nothing could again wake her, that I would not hear any response, that my grandmother would never again come And I asked nothing of God, if there is a paradise, than to be able to give there the three little taps on that partition that my grandmother would recognize anywhere, and to which she would respond with those other taps that meant, Don t fret yourself, little mouse, I realize you re impatient, but I m just coming, and that he should let me remain with her for all eternity, which would not be too long for the two of us , , , , , , , , 20 , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .


  3. says:

    Finally, finally, 3000 pages in, the structure of this novel is fully in sight For the first time, Proust s world becomes contained the majority of characters and places here are ones we have already seen Balbec, the surprise and welcome return of the little clan, Albertine and Charlus, Saint Loup and the Duchess de Guermantes And Proust allows these repetitions to complicate, often flashing back to seemingly insignificant moments from the first two volumes most importantly, with his grandmother, and with his eavesdropping on Vientieul s daughter and causes the scenes to broaden in depth and meaning I m beginning to see that not much of this work was wasted, as much of the long windedness of the start now seems like part of some grand plan And for all that, he never makes it difficult to remember who s who, frequently reminding us of the earlier appearances of one of his many characters It s Balzac and less Modernist in these moments.As for the subject of this volume, homosexuality, the work is at once homophobic and remarkably insightful, which I suspect mirrors the experience of the author There are moments of extreme sensitivity and there are also crude reductions and a regrettable tendency toward transphobia It reminds me a bit of the fabulous scene in ROOM WITH A VIEW when the reverend Beebe bathes with two handsome men, and one can feel Forester fall in love with the scene almost despite himself And so, while individual responses may vary, I found this volume an effective look at queerness it gave real insight on the period.And most strangely this segment ends with a cliffhanger, a real one, that is shocking and exciting Who would have believed it


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  5. says:

    685 la recherche du temps perdu Sodome et Gomorrhe Remembrance of Things Past In Search of Lost Time Sodom and Gomorrah 4 , Marcel ProustIn Search of Lost Time, previously also translated as Remembrance of Things Past, is a novel in seven volumes, written by Marcel Proust 1871 1922 Sodom and Gomorrah sometimes translated as Cities of the Plain 1921 1922 was originally published in two volumes The first forty pages of Sodome et Gomorrhe initially appeared at the end of Le C t de Guermantes II, the remainder appearing as Sodome et Gomorrhe I 1921 and Sodome et Gomorrhe II 1922 It was the last volume over which Proust supervised publication before his death in November 1922 The publication of the remaining volumes was carried out by his brother, Robert Proust, and Jacques Rivi re 2007 4 1369 20 1921 1922


  6. says:

    When they are happy, calm, satisfied with their surroundings, we marvel at their precious gifts it is the truth, literally, that speaks through their lips A touch of headache, the slightest prick to their self esteem, is enough to alter everything The luminous intelligence, become brusque, convulsive and shrunken, no longer reflects anything but an irritable, suspicious, teasing self, doing everything possible to displease.It was indeed the corrupting effect, as it was also the charm, of this country round Balbec, to have become for me a land of familiar acquaintances if its territorial distribution, its extensive cultivation, along the entire length of the coast, with different forms of agriculture, gave of necessity to the visits which I paid to these different friends the aspect of a journey, they also reduced that journey to the agreeable proportions of a series of visits. This book was both the easiest and the most tedious of the series to date, in that the pages flowed faster under my Proust accustomed gaze, but only on the days that I didn t pass over it in favor of other works It also didn t help that, unlike the previous installations in the series, I finished the last twenty or so pages in a state of aggravated fury brought upon not by incomprehension, but the clearest understanding one could possibly hope for As I can t do anything unusual, especially in matters relating to literature, without my mind immediately latching onto the issue and needling the reason out it, I will explain myself here.I am a great believer in the powers of empathy when it comes to literature, to the point that if a disagreeable character appears, I immediately keep an especial eye on them and their circumstances in the hopes of finding something to improve my favorable understanding of them In previous works Proust has been a consummate master at this, delving as deeply as he does into the human psyche at every turn and rendering nearly every action of seeming insipidness and stupidity into something I recognize as being capable of myself, the insufferable human condition rendered sufferable and as a result granting valuable learning The difficulty of his prose simply made the journey a slow and contemplative one, whose culminations bloomed as grandly and as gorgeously as if one had spent a lifetime watching a single seed languorously shoot and spread into the most awe inspiring of cathedrals Simply put, the effort was well worth it.The problem, of course, is when the beauty and thoughtful meanderings can no longer excuse the idiocy, and one becomes frustrated not only with the actions, but even so with the attempts of the book to cloak the actions with the same softening colors that previously delighted the reader, attempts that fail again and again.I have to mention here that I am a very reserved person, in the effect that while I feel as rapidly and as strongly as Proust so often describes, I do not act on it As a result, I have an extremely low tolerance for ridiculous heights of selfish idiocy, something that I have observed in the narrator as well as other characters in ISOLT but was able to forgive when offered with wonderful passages of crystalline insight There is also my extreme dislike of stereotyping, especially with regards to multitudes of varied souls that populate humanity in seemingly discriminate bunches In effect, these two aspects of my personality lessened my compatibility with this book, something that saddens me but cannot be helped.For the book is called Sodom and Gomorrah, and when it comes to the quote of Beckett that proclaims that in the book, Homosexuality is as devoid of moral implications as the sexual patterns of flowers, I have to disagree, and instead find favor with the quote of Andr Gide, Will you never portray this form of Eros for us in the aspect of youth and beauty , for while Proust never outright condemns it, he does everything but There is no contemplative empathy, no beautifying of another form of love, nothing but ridiculous theories on the ways homosexuals act and come into contact with another, mockeries of those who are severely mistaken in their belief that their secret is safe, little skits of insipid jealousy with none of the compassion that Swann s own efforts were treated No, instead the narrator glorifies his own labors of love in all their hypersensitive irrationality, and resigns himself to a lifetime of torment not when view spoiler his grandmother dies, but when he believes the girl whom he casually treats as a sexual play toy is doing the same with others of her own gender hide spoiler


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  8. says:

    As our vision is a deceiving sense, a human body, even when it is loved as Albertine s was, seems to us to be a few yards at a few inches distance from us And similarly with the soul that inhabits it. A good case can be made that these books should be read one after the other, so as not to lose the narrative thread or to forget the many characters involved But I am finding that an equally good case can be made for spacing them out Memory is crucial to this novel the remembrance of things past, the search for lost time The length of the series itself makes the passing of time almost palpable and likewise, all of Proust s sentences are microcosms of the novel as a whole, each one stretching across the page, forcing you to hold the beginning in mind as you slowly make your way to the end It is arguably this experience itself, feeling your mind being pulled both forward and back across time, that is the essence of Proust s style This time around, the experience of time took on an additional aspect for me Over and over during this volume I had flashbacks of my time in Manhattan, where I read the first three volumes I remembered the chilling December days, the brooding, cloudy sky over the Hudson, the aftertaste of vinegar in my mouth as I walked along the High Line during my lunch breaks, the banging sounds of construction work and the wailing of fire truck sirens, the visceral boredom of work, the geometrical beauty of the New York skyline, the way the sun glistened off the glass fa ades of the skyscrapers Here in Madrid, as I walked to work in the pre dawn darkness, with the tall office buildings towering over me, the past and present were woven together by the continued narrative of this novel I haven t yet read Harold Bloom, but I am somewhat familiar with his idea of the anxiety of influence Well, I think I have this anxiety with respect to Proust In my writing and my thinking, I have been so strongly influenced by him that it s hard for me to see his novel clearly or evaluate it fairly And I think this acknowledgement of my debt to him sometimes turns into resentment I feel as though I have to find his weaknesses, what he left out, what he did wrong, to justify myself In short, when I criticize him I suspect my own motives But I can t help thinking that Proust does have serious weaknesses as a writer First he has several bad habits in English translation, at least that rubbed off on me, and from which I am still trying to rid myself Most superficially, one of these habits is his tendency to use the royal we in his general pronouncements see the opening quote for an example of this He also tends to say how people would behave and how things would happen, instead of keeping to the simple past and describing how things did happen.Of course I m not saying that his prose isn t superbly beautiful very often, it is Even so, the endless barrage of lengthy sentences and the monotonous tone and say what you will, he is not a versatile writer can really wear you out Sometime s he s just plain frustrating Proust can spill gallons of ink and take up twenty pages just to make you understand that Character X is sexually involved with Character Y, or that Character Z is a bit of a bore Another thing that really grates on me is the subject matter People accuse Jane Austen of being pinched and narrow in her focus but Austen is a Tolstoy compared to Proust Soir e after soir e after soir e all of these snobbish, strange, and unsympathetic aristocrats Granted, this novel is certainly a fascinating historical document, being a sort of ethnography of a moribund form of European society although Proust is a much worse ethnographer than Austen But very often I cannot feel bad about the disappearance of this way of life That these supposedly cultured people could get so absorbed in such trifles that four volumes could go by without the narrator so much as contemplating getting a job that the same tired references to Moli re, Racine, Hugo, Balzac, Debussy, and Chopin keep getting recycled over and over that in the land of the French Revolution the most politically controversial thing is the Dreyfus affair it s maddening, really Everything is just so disconnected from life as I know it that it s hard to find parallels or even analogs with my experience Philosophically, my main objection to Proust s method is his ruthless Cartesianism By this I mean his tendency to see human action through a hyper subjective lense to see the mind as its own place, disconnected from the world around it, and people as inhabiting their own mental worlds John Donne said No man is an island,Entire of himself,Every man is a piece of the continent,A part of the main. But Proust is enad of the opposite idea, that people are islands For him, all communication is in fact just miscommunication He makes much ado about how one person misinterprets something said by another he spends pages on the agonies that his narrator goes through as he puzzles over a chance remark or a small gesture Often Proust can be a philosophical one trick pony Here is his trick The narrator misinterprets something, acts accordingly, and then collides with the external reality then he retreats back into himself to come up with another interpretation Proust occupies this space, the space between perception and reality, and probes it so insistently that you question whether perception can ever be accurate.Two or three times it occurred to me, for a moment, that the world in which this room and these bookshelves were situated and in which Albertine counted for so little, was perhaps an intellectual world, which was the sole reality, and my grief something like what feel when we read a novel, of thing of which only a madman would make a lasting and permanent grief that prolonged itself through his life that a tiny movement of my will would suffice, perhaps, to attain to that real world, to re enter it, passing through my grief, as one breaks through a paper hoop, and to think no about what Albertine had done than about the actions of the imaginary heroine of a novel after we have finished reading it.Well there s no denying that Proust often brings up good points in this regard Nevertheless, I think this Cartesianism limited him, both as a thinker and as a novelist With connection to Proust, I often think of something a sociology professor said to me The subject was intimate relations he said There are many methods, using personality tests and demographics, of determining whether two people are likely to have a good relationship But there is this extra quality, what some people call chemistry the unexpected ways that two people s personalities interact with one another Some people have good chemistry, some people have bad chemistry There s no way to tell beforehand what will happen when two people start talking.Now I m neither a psychologist nor a sociologist, and I don t know whether there is any evidence for that view But it certainly seems true to my experience And for me, some of the most talented novelists are so wonderful partially because they can capture this phenomenon of chemistry Consider two great writers I mentioned above, Tolstoy and Austen Both of them, so different in many ways, are similar in their ability to describe how people change in the presence of other people how one character brings out snobbishness in the protagonist, another coquettishness, and a third joviality In both fiction and in life, I love to see how personalities interact Why Because it is this experience that makes me most strongly feel that I am not an island that I am part of the world of everyone around me, and they are a part of mine And it is this that I most sorely miss from Proust s perspective, because to portray this you need to give up the idea that you are just a mind, and embrace the idea that you are a social creature, with as many selves as social worlds you inhabit Whew, that felt good I needed to get all that off my chest The truth is, I can criticize Proust until I run out of breath, but I still love this novel And this volume is, I think, one of the stronger ones For a long time I had been hoping that he d do with the Baron de Charlus, and in this volume he does just that The introduction of homosexuality into the novel added a badly needed touch of spice And believe it or not, a real story is starting to take shape this volume even ends on a cliffhanger I will allow time to pass before moving on to the next volume I definitely need a break from Proust, if only to push away his influence once again and regain my own voice Until then, I will dwell on my memories.


  9. says:

    As Sodom and Gomorrah began, our Narrator was struggling to understand the nature of homosexuals while I was alternating between reading his early twentieth century musings and poring over sweetly triumphant images of same sex couples rushing to legitimize their long running relationships with celebratory midnight marriages As the strange continent of inverts draws horticultural allusions and comparisons to covert societies in Proust s time, the LGBTQ community is finally being recognized in a way that signals the slow unravelling of ignorance and inequality in mine For the first three volumes, it was easy to lose any sense of cultural or chronological divide when faced with so many universal constants of humanity that all but waltzed off their pages and pages of lyrical metaphors in SG, we have a Narrator who recalls how the first time he saw an airplane overhead filled him with childlike wonder and lives in a time when it is apparently totally normal for a man to pick out his female companion s evening attire, which are but a few examples that, like unchecked homophobia, for the first time in my journey with Proust heralded a struggle to bridge the gap between when these volumes were written and when I m reading them, bringing into stark reality just how much separates modernism from modern times, regardless of how well the common ground of so many other shared human experiences minimized the inevitable differences in eras and epochs I finally felt the full extent of the distance literal and figurative, in time and physical distance, of the real and fictionally polished between the richly depicted, intricately crafted images Proust used to construct his Narrator s winding halls of memory and the world to which I belong It was a jarring transition, for sure, but it was also a rather well timed one As the Narrator become increasingly aware of adult life s complicated emotions stirring inside and the societal politics constantly changing around him not to mention the slow encroachment of technology, which does cast a shroud of smoky modernization on a world previously draped in pristine laces and cloud soft velvets , I, too, got a taste of that irrevocable shift from a reasonably expected understanding to desperate reconsideration of an ever shifting world.This installment, sadly, is one I read in staccato bursts of precious free time It is unfortunate because Proust is best savored like good wine rather than chugged like cheap beer, and I fear I spent time drunk on his beautiful words than intoxicated by his narrative insight In those exhausted but relieved hours at home, in those stolen wedges of at work bookwormery, in whatever few minutes were spent in quiet solitude, I clung to Proust with the desperation of a booklover in the throes of both work related burnout and the dreaded reader s slump And while a frantic heart may not be the best way to approach words that are ideally enjoyed at a leisurely stroll, I do believe the Narrator s burgeoning sense of humor and need to slowly drink in his surroundings kept me grounded during chaotic times While SG may not have been my favorite installment, it is the one that affected me the deepest Among the revolving door of social obligations and self indulgent observations that seem to occupy the majority of Fictional Marcel s abundant free time, I found myself most invested in his delayed reaction to his grandmother s death Having never known the magnitude of a transgenerational love like that which Narrator shared with his maternal grandmother, I felt his palpable grief just as keenly as the slow arriving but no less heartrending clarity of permanent absence that hit him upon revisiting a place that once played such an important role in demonstrating the fondness and compassion that can exist between a grandmother and her grandson As the Narrator contemplates how different Balbec is without his beloved grandmother, as he muses on how much his own once young mother has taken on the visage of her own mother now that the elder woman s death has left a role unfulfilled, as he retraces rooms that once were filled with his grandmother s presence, the concrete reality of past time being truly lost time came thundering down against a mostly familiar landscape that derives most of its changes from the players inhabiting it It is odd that the grief is intense but short lived, yes, but I couldn t help but write it off as the Narrator s decision to forge ahead with his life rather than mawkishly wallow in grief such are the intermittences of the heart, no I continue to find the romantic entanglements of these characters to be a high school level of ridiculous It seems like so few of the relationships presented thus far in ISOLT Swann and Odette the Narrator and Gilberte and also Albertine Saint Loup and Rachel are healthy, mutually affectionate ones, but it could also be that I have little patience for romances, even fictional ones, that are built on a foundation of obsession and possession rather than respect and genuine fondness And, really, the affair between Morel and Charlus isn t anything laudable, I know, but I can t help but find it one of the most believable examples of heady lust in terms of its execution and its players emotionally fueled behaviors There is little else but pure attraction drawing Charlus helplessly toward Morel, who can t help but take advantage of or be manipulated by, depending on your vantage point the older gentleman s affections and gifts Still, the greed with which Charlus tries to keep Morel to himself while all but undressing him in public, the satisfaction he derives just from coaxing the younger musician into his presence is okay, a bit much, yes, but also keenly evocative of an irrationally all consuming, unrealistically intense first crush and the reluctant empathy of understanding such memories drag along in their wake Sodom and Gomorrah struck me as proof that the memories of our past can t help but be intertwined with memories of others, a reminder that there are always multiple perspectives at play and that, as the ending scenes with Bloch reinforce, not everyone s assessment of a situation will always be reliable or anything than actions born of misunderstanding a sticky situation that was handled badly because there are no do over options in real life and things only make sense when hindsight lays down the rest of the puzzle ISOLT might be fictional, sure, but it is written as an account of life, and sometimes learning life s lessons means that truths can be as ugly as our lesser selves.


  10. says:

    Fluid becomes solid and then fluid again Changing states, crossovers, transformations Words produce pictures that turn back into words, black marks on a white page dots, accents, commas, shapes of letters, enter through the cornea, the retina, the optic nerve, are processed into into what Images, characters, narrative, scenes, landscapes, weather, tableaux, dialogue, spectacle, sensation Reactions The cities of the plain Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboim, Bela But Proust takes his title from one of his favourite poets, Alfred de Vigny Baudelaire was the other, according to the famous questionnaire Bient t se retirant dans un hideux royaume,La Femme aura Gomorrhe et l Homme aura Sodome,Et, se jetant, de loin, un regard irrit ,Les deux sexes mourront chacun de son c t From La Col re de SamsonPiquant de Vigny wrote this poem when his mistress, Marie Dorval became the intimate friend of George Sand Just how physical the two women s intimacy was is a matter of some debate, but salacious rumours flew around Paris anyway The poem treats of Samson s infatuation with Delilah, and how he was brought down by her seductive ways and ultimate betrayal Samson s weakness was to love she who cannot love in return Elle se fait aimer sans aimer elle m me Thus it echoes the constant dynamic of love affairs in La Recherche There is always one who loves, one who accepts love One who appears strong, but is made weak by their obsessive love Swann and Odette, Charlus and Morel, the narrator and Albertine, Saint Loup and Rachel, the narrator and the circles he would like to become part of.De Vigny s poem sees the conflict between the male and the female as an eternal battle between virtue and treachery, between steadfast strength and supple seduction, between honesty and ruse The woman on whose soothing breast he sought comfort and salvation has betrayed him for a few gold pieces Women are as evil as men, each will inhabit their own sordid hell, women in Gomorrah and men in Sodom, with nothing but distant exasperated glances between them, the two sexes separate until death.Proust s genius is to dissolve that dichotomy into a fluid continuum Men who are passive until they become aggressively active, women who are sporty, strong, decisive He plays with gender roles Transformations, crossovers Metamorphoses Book cover love A portrait of a portrait painter Jacques mile Blanche painted Robert de Montesquieu, one of the models for the Baron de Charlus my favourite character He also painted Proust himself But on the cover of my edition he stands with a wide legged swagger as model for Jean Louis Forain I think of him as M Verdurin


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