“Like a flight of gulls, performing with measured tread upon the sands, the girls’ mysterious purpose was as obscure as it was unforgettable.” ~Marcel Proust
No one should read Proust alone. His ideas are too lovely, and sometimes too elusive, to ponder over by oneself. So we invite you, Arti and I, to read (or perhaps reread?) Within A Budding Grove along with us. There will be a post about midway through the volume at the end of October, and a final post at the end of November.
You are so welcome to join us as we venture onward in Remembrance of Things Past.