“[Writing is] to
lose sight of yourself, and yet to use yourself, or that part of yourself that
was beyond the control of your ego. And then to see something foreign appear on
the page in front of you. Thoughts you had never (my emphasis) had before,
images you had never seen. It was the form that created them.”
This insight from
KOK is a reflection on how new writing sprung after his reader love of Proust, “In
Search of Lost Time.”
Remembrance as
recovery – How in Proust each recovered memory serves to give shape to a
promise – it is not Marcel who somehow stands astride humanity like some
mythical colossus, rather that by honoring the humble observations of a life
electrified by sensitivities, by doubt, by a kind of hard-won knowledge that come
from sincere self-nourishing introspection, Proust has given us a literature
that stands the test of time, that offers lessons to the better angels in all
of us.
Harder still is to
find the pure joy in that gift of literature. The starting point is always the
same, though. To sit down. And read.
Next: Treetop Tips
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