If anyone wondered, no, Marcel Proust doesn’t get more interesting. He only gets duller with each subsequent book, as impossible as that sounds.
It blows my mind how a novel with an almost identical premise — Of Human Bondage — could come off as so fun and insightful, while Remembrance of Things Past causes me nothing but pain and frustration. No wonder Proust was initially turned down by his publisher.
|Protagonist’s constant wimpiness gets seriously infuriating at this point|
A few good insights on nostalgia and interpersonal relationships
|Extremely slow pace|
|Illuminating on the life of French aristocracy in the late 19th century||Nothing much really happens throughout the plot|
|Textbooks can offer deeper psychological insight, and are not even nearly as dull|