Illusions from the Cork-Lined Room

Being a voracious reader, my first encounter with Proust and In Search of Lost Time was at a very early age, perhaps at thirteen or fourteen years old. From the first page on, I became addicted to, and a lover of, Proust for the rest of my life. Certainly, I did not comprehend every innuendo or subtle phrase, nor was I familiar with specific paintings, cathedrals, or locations discussed in the eight volumes; however, I was fully aware of the stunning beauty and rhythm of the writing, the use of language that has the ability to transport one from the comfort of home to exciting new locations and into the lives of unique characters, such as the peasant housekeeper, Francoise, with her rural philosophy and devotion to Dr. Prousts household, to upper-class society and their endlessly all-consuming desire to ascend to a higher level. I was captivated by the variety of characters so vividly depicted such as Charlus, Jupian, Francoise, Swann, and so many others, including Prousts doting mother and grandmother that I felt I knew them so well because of their creators masterful ability to paint reality with his unique use of the written word and the display of some humorous aspect of their actions, philosophy, or conversations. Certainly, any one of them could be depicted with humor, but that book is for another time. Illusions from the Cork-Lined Room is my way of sharing the joy and fun that I have experienced while reading M. Proust, and I suspect that somewhere, there is a very dandified and brilliant gentleman smiling knowingly to himself.