Carnet 2

65 West 35th Street New York
New Theatre
Benefit by seeing what consitutes the desire for a tidal bore, Breton storms, for Caen Bayeux, for Florence, for Venice.

_________

Stained-glass window of the Presentation,
canopy, curves, architecture, architectural canopy,
pinnacle lancet arches open-work manin [sic],
base section of a stained-glass window.
heraldic
armorial bearings in silver threads, pith of the elder tree
organ pipes
for Botticelli sashes, tunic,
M. Rehbock's IV 14 Capellenstrasse. Hamburg
Tibetan or Abysinnian goat sheds and Sheepfolds
Tree of bears
marsh for paludal plants
plunged in
buttoned up
actor of the highest rank
To love  Ci Maria (because of her air of brutality
and to tell her everything excited more than anything by thinking about her air of sweetness goodness: "Do you want us
to start again one last time, I have the time?"

I'll say for Maria Before I wanted to know her what she was doing in the country and I was in love with her and I did not know all that.
Now I know and do not love her any more not having been able to have the two hemispheres together. And how dull the details of her life were
(Ulhrich [sic] letter, without the charm. And I told myself on learning further (about Sala) of how few positive elements prestige is built.
Remember that I have saved the lustre of the eyes for the girls and for the young girl seen at the Princesse de Guermantes life as something delightful because it strives for something new and that the old life is nothing more than a feeble part of total life. These two things can be found in one of the marbled exercise books (passage called I think to be added to the girls)

"I think about all those evenings when she was waiting for me changing ingeniously I think how much all the things for which I did not return are far of little importance and I think how many pleasures I would have been able to give her day by day and preserve for ever, like small perfect and calm works that could not have been composed other than for the two of us and which will never exist now that she is no longer there."
From my point of view
What a kid
Mlle Hirth
Mlle Noel 28 rue Racine
Mme Dijonnet 33 rue Pouchet
Albaret 5 rue Raspail Levallois 381
Elder trees at Lavallois

Cabourg
Notes for future use
Hotel manager friend Phalanx, Brigade
- You suffer (you are ill) like this  in order to write.
sure and certain
bored to death.

Wuthering Heichts [sic] Bay of Avranches, Frémonts,
architect's dining-room progressive springtimes thankless incomprehensible visions
illustration that our bodies are in our heads
stopping point of fine weather like a soap bubble Beethowen [sic].

Hunting on the boat with sail flapping like a butterfly's wing.
Legrandin Gurcy and the Princesse de Parme.
Necessity to give out a little a vague impression to bring in to an imaginative framework
(the beauty of the sea)
beneath everything
Very low position for the father of Mme de Chemisey
Character of Albert N[ahmias].
Gilberte makes her father function does not want to help her mother to come down (Biencourt)
proposes her daughter to me.
I long to return to Criquebec
When I say to myself: I know everybody instead of saying: what good fortune these are people that I do not know
(Neuf Ruhl d'Eyragues etc...)
A certain sensation of coldness slipping down the cheek of my grandmother at the memory of a sorrow I had caused her had something heart-rending.
That When that delightful illumination is missing to our attention that subsequently arranges a personality the body seen by us is wanting, to explain there is nothing left but a bundle of flesh grimacing beneath a bush of hair. And it tells me this photography is painful to me. Because he feared that what he loved, the likeness, was not in it.
"No, no, he wasn't in the Jockey Just the Cercle (Polignac about the Strauses)
speaking of theatre work. And it's a character from the theatre. Novel develops a great honesty, [illegible] comfortable.
bolero, crushed velvet cloak
I am unable to depict the portrait.
The bells at the start, folded veils,
Bonington Garden, primitive painting
sea blue headband by Giotto and blue of XIIIth century stained-glass
Odette's lie when the truth is not known
Gurcy exposed after the event
Fouquières, Bernard.
Put railway after motor car.
Motor car Find its own place.
Villages like urchins, towns like princesses.

Interrupting myself in an emotional conversation to repeat the things that Mme de Villeparisis said.
Notice Lauris saying things like Mme de Villeparisis
Steeple at Lengronne,
Mme Swann in the Bois.
"Another touches me more. Madame Swann sitting with a large collar that was almost Medici had gathered behind her, against her seat the long train of one of those dresses in which she strolled the avenue of acacias. Without doubt gathered round her like that this train was nothing less than a like those sails that are set in port that can at most evoke produce nostalgia for travel that in the flicker of an instant we think we see, swelling, while the boat continues in its gracious course. So in the flicker of an instant to one side of the [illegible]. This train bringing me to life again, she sweeps through the avenue of acacias, while + under the trees acacias I saw slowly approaching the woman who was depicted there, in the same way raising her delightful face approaching; her arm partially extended to hold her parasol in front of her; slowly approaching, alone, beneath the acacias having + forming for me then at that period the an incomparable picture where the history, the personality and the distinction of a figure that seemed to me the equal a picture in which all of the history and scenery was completed by this figure the most charming figures of history was approaching, as noble, as special to me as if it had been Mary Stuart, underneath the trees that seemed chosen for me finer, more mysteriously seductive than any figure from history or in poetry as particular and as noble as if it had been it was Mary Stuart, Madame Swann was approaching, half lifting that same delightful profile that was depicted here, her arm partially extended to hold her parasol in front of her, turning round to call for her dog.
To add earlier: Concentrating in her enough personality, to, enough of my dreams, enough personality enough style, that she was for me something which had its importance and its time, effacing all the women who could have been at the same time as her, and seeing her alone, for me as noble as celebrated as if it had been Mary Stuart approaching alone beneath the acacias trees who in as if they had been painted by Van Dyck and setting the scenery as if it had been the background in an historical painting painting.
It is not
It is not banal
Shocked (shock)
La Berma the 2nd time
She No doubt she put placed very much meaning on each word but however she themselves only making however but she suspended them No doubt on Each word she placed its had without any doubt a meaning, but but she if they her an infexion placed on it; but they were drawn along in a system of rhythms, of movements that were more vast and to which they were obliged to obey. And that it might be said was not entirely natural. But in that she was herself like the poet who draws an element of beauty out of that which forms the same word makes us take pleasure in feeling a word holding itself back beyond its meaning to make the rhyme ring out, where more humbly to a humbler degree the café concert singer who overturns every the thousand meanings that  he puts into each witticism to put them into the slow or fast rhythms with which they are often in contradiction and which is far from displeasing to the public, who at that moment join in with him by singing the chorus.

Hôtel de la gare de l'Est 170 Faubourg St Martin 170

To be placed where my uncle's servant brings me some photographs. There was also a small photograph of me, from the time the far off days of Combray, I could hardly say that it was still when I had not yet commenced upon, or I had only recently commenced upon that daily loan taken from other men of all their fatal notions, of all their knowledge, of all their qualities, of all their vices, that hourly absorption of everything that is of everything that is foreign to us and ends up becoming ours, Bloch's literary ideas, Bloch's ideas about women, Swann's ideas about the stay Balbec, and about so many other things, at that time none of this was to be seen in my countenance face and my countenance face of that time was touching for me to see because it was because had it been only only a sort of sweet fructification in the middle of it, placed there with the help of which that which secreted sweetness and strength, because in the polished the curvature of the gentle polishing of my cheeks like a pebble forever turned over by the same tide; in the gravity of my expression eyes; in the simplicity of my hairstyle even in the purity of my complexion, all this as though I had not been envelopped on all sides by the vast tenderness of my grandmother I had not been in the middle of it a sort of fructificat fruit in which would be solidified everything that she secreted that was sweet and strong, the curvature of my cheeks polished like a pebble that is always turned over by the same tide, the seriousness of my eyes, the purity even of my in every aspect it had the appearance of the spirit of my grandmother, of a little Tunisian apricot fruit perfectly sugared sweet and golden and sugared in which were accumulated everything of strength and sweetness that she fostered and it was the expression eyes of my grandmother that I recognized in it all over my face, not only in the seriousness solemnity of my eyes of that time but in the gentle curvature of my cheeks my cheeks polished at that time like an no less in my cheeks of that time whose sweet whose fullness had the appearance of having been gently rounded by her tenderness like a pebble polished by the waves and whose purity complexion had something innocent, and gentle pensive light and pensive gentle about it, as if it had been nothing less than a different retina of a different sort into which had been reabsorbed one of those expressions a shimmer, a reflection so pensive down to the depth of the epidermis, that it seemed like a retina of a different kind in which were reflected the expression my grandmother's gaze was still reflected.
   If the photographs come before the resurrection of my feelings of tenderness for my grandmother, I will say "my mother's" instead of "my grandmother's". And so I will be saying, this was my face to which had been in its first sweetness from which by subtraction the contribution of life and of the exterior world, the sum of time, had been deducted.

For Bergotte
But his admirers did not go as far as to say that he had talent did not say that he had talent. No, one thing they said that he had a style that was always something something there was always something special in what he wrote, a somewhat affected way of saying things, but so agreeable, of pretty always ideas, a sensibility that made him immediately recognizeable. They would not have dared to go so far as to say that he had talent, because they knew nothing that was similar. They They had no idea that that was talent, because that did not because that they would not did not think know in any case what constituted talent because that bore no resemblance to what he possessed because things do not allow themselves talent, like all things to be easily recognized and in their particular countenance we are slow to we are slow to discover in their particular countenance the portrait what it is that concerns the thing called talent or something else, the portrait that we keep in our own gallery of general ideas. They did not think of this as talent for the simple reason that meant that with Bergotte what he was bore no similarity to what they knew had known up until then.
+ And then one dared not assert that it was talent, since all talent appeared trivial because it separates all the ways of seeing that one has at that moment, all the daily bread of banality about which we feel uncertain.
+ And later: perhaps now the at Mme Swann's when I became acquainted with Bergotte.
But his imitators had done a service to Bergotte, because by doing a Bergotte by devaluing his way of saying new things he said and which had the appearance of being merely the particular aspects of his sensibility, like the charms we are reluctant to make out of nothingness, they have that which have given to that charm something more banal, more assimilable simple to reproduce, to assimilate with literary qualities earlier writers , that who have made a school, they have learned from Bergote's admirers that the charm they find in him, and that up to that point they had not thought it any more possible to call by a general name that they have been unable we are unable to do for the particular face of someone we love, he learned from them that this charm was indeed talent. Now the same people who said: how talking about a page of his "how good this is, how how exquisite it is" say "what great fine talent!" Because we do not recog the things which are not of which we Because the things he all things almost do not allow themselves to be recognized for what they  are.

On Swann's malice.
Moreover Swann appeared malicious because he was part of society gossip such as at the theatre where one may allow oneself whatever one wants on condition that one flattered the passions of the public and supplied it with the common occasions with which it was familiar. If some as a joke Swann allowed allows himself upon each of the small reservations on one or upon another some very slight reservation that had nothing serious about it and infinitely less serious than everything that the Verdurins and their habitués continually said in that respect. But those, some malicious things they say being careful to season it it with well-known jokes, with a little hint of emotion and cordiality, of half-heard ribaldry, in a sharp tone of a sharp composition and which not made it their goal to appear as the best of chaps to the listener. At the very moment they hurl an insult not kno upon a third party do they not know how to make it resound with a note of cordiality and gaiety. You know said Madame Verdurin "He speaks the way he thinks but there is no better fellow" Mme Verdurin would say about the painter whereas one simple criticism from Swann, stripped of all the conventional language to which he had no wish to demean himself had the effect of some perfidy and excited the same protestations as a word that was hardly very shocking in a play by an original author who does not know to take the public in hand.

For Gilberte
As if all her words and for a moment I wondered if she Gilberte's character was not completely just the opposite of what I had believed, if this indifference indifference so rational about what we may do, this constant sweet submission was not a covering that she carefully maintained through pride at not letting be seen the passionate desire that and judged by her that she had to follow her fantasy desires despite despite the fact that she was consumed and desires that did not reveal themselves awaken other than in brusque resistance when they were thwarted.

In notebook 1 (marked with blue pencil) some things about the Duchesse de Broglie and woman from Fontainbleu whom I did't know.

for Swann It was Norpois One proclaims a masterpiece. There are not as many geniuses as all that. M. de Guermantes I find that exquisite. Ah! it is very good, it is rather good.
Cottard's grimaces
Sweet look when kissing (that turns to affectation)
Nothing between us (Swann and Gurcy)
Oh yes but Hermant is like that, he's terrible.
Calmette 56304
For the church at Thaon to place before Mme de Villeparisis's words taking us to Briseville.
I was curious about all those churches; I had I dicovered for myself where they could be found; I had I wished to go and see them as people. The Mme de Vi. Often Mme But often they were old, nobody not for the buil one must be far distant in advance into the lands to bury oneself, far away from any habitation it was not easy, they were very old, nobody frequented them any longer and in order to find them one had to go beyond the last habitations, to bury oneself in advance into the lands and Mme de Villeparisis was no longer disposed to wait for me since that day I had gone to St Jean sous Gouville. The villager had told us: we needed to take go down a little take a little track a little track across the fields then descend steeply into the woods. The carriage with my grandmother and Mme de Villeparisis had been obliged to wait for me on the road on the edge of a field in which I was taking a footpath track that the carriage would not have been able to take then descended across footpath that a person could not could just, then descend that crossed it then went under the trees and descended in a steep slope. The villager had warned me, there was a deep path through the woods, but I ran quickly down it. Coming all the way into the hollow I heard a stream I crossed over it by a plank; at the edge of the water in a confined space like a flat strip for a shrub for a shrub rose up the little bristling church that from innumerable pinnacles thorns bristled and flowered like a rose-bush.I gazed at it. It had said nothing, like a I beautiful  young girl before a stranger stared at by a stranger stares before a wash house, and who wishes to does not appear to see him but feels knows she is being stared at and certain remains by the river. I stood there for a long time on the bank of the river then I left it, but it remained at the edge of the water, in the company of the trees where it lived isolated contained and seemed to follow the course of the current and allow the twisted trees to float subside flower on its dress and holding its dress and its earrings fall from its ears; so the church with its little orchard like a brooch a little all around it small medallions of stone like a cameo necklace and a virgin like a clasp; it had the appearance of listening to the sound of the water and of retaining playing as if with a cameo necklace, with the small medallions of stone that had been set all around it; I turned around for a long time stared at it for a long time; then I withdrew; and it appeared not to notice; and it remained isolated in the company of the trees at the edge of the water where it spent its days and and nights I reascended took up but the endless path once more; but it was of the hard to climb back up, interminable; and when I arrived at the carriage above the field of apple-trees the a silvery moon stamped the mauve sky it almost made the sun was the sun had set long ago, the same ground field just then distinctly separated from the terrestrial sky above the field a silvery moon stamped the mauve sky. But And this sk It was impossible to believe that this same field above this same field of which it had could hardly be remembered that in the broad daylight it was separate from the sky. Because now like a words with the same sound as an appeal that will become in extending itself pure music all of a sudden extending itself, raising itself up, fluidifying, it would quickly become a becomes from the in a piece if piece blended with songs become lyrical, if the music suddenly starts up words spoken distinct and solid and distinct, if suddenly the music starting up, extending itself, prolonging itself, raising itself up, fluidifying, overflowing, submerging, have become song, just like this ground, these meadows, that the sky had drawn them to itself, united with it by the rays of moonlight like the strings of a harp, and they raised themselves up towards it in almost the same mauve and iridescent material. My grand My grandmother and Mme de Villeparisis were cold, I quickly got up into the carriage, and such a mist began to come down that the to come down spread over the valley in the from which I had just reascended that it seemed that an immense stretch of water had come there, perhaps even the sea the sea. But I was not scolded but I was no longer allowed to go and see churches, unless we passed them in the villages. Often these were the the most beautiful. Some of them famed for their bas-reliefs displayed on the surface of their stone as in the transparency of their stone, flat as though still living through a fine day, a thousand little bodies so charming and sinuous of cherubs or demons of saintly personages or cherubs allowed to play and to emerge flush and almost to play on the surface of their stone unified and laughing a thousand sinuous horizontal and charming bodies of saintly personages and of cherubs But And just as in the tomb Egyptian tombs where one sees that the cook and the hunting dog are not there for decoration but to prepare the meal and of the dead and to allow him to go hunting, upon leaving his bed that these customs carrying candles and crowding around the bed of the Virgin Holy Virgin, unaware of the whole distance remoteness of centuries six centuries having passed, they carry on just an inch away from the people of the nineteenth century living in the midst in the middle a not seeing that they were carrying on living in the plenitude of the Middle Ages.

For Gurcy
In the smoothness of the Moro binding he had had it bound in Morocco leather; in the smoothness In the smoothness of the Morocco leather binding, a plaque of had been set an incised leather plaque that represented in part relief a branch of forget-me-not.

_________

A high flown novel A veritable raising of shields Excess on the whole is a shortcoming past present and future.
a real outcry
Put in a passage as regards Criquebec or Bergotte, or Elstir.
Because we prefer the things of which we have first been told a book or a the word of someone who has for the voice of someone who has for us as much  authority as the thing written has initially spoken to us of. Because then we  before we see it. Thus we can make a duplicate of it in our heart hold it, rekindle it within ourselves, adorn it with all the notions of perfection that we carry within ourselves, study its pedigree, the give it an individuality, and finally to yearn to deliver us up close by the church that we have endowed with so much power that our eyes if we had only opened them in its presence would not have been able to convey.

St Hilaire au parvis
Vieuvicq
Dormans le sec
Noisy l'Archambault
Wensday
be fury
distraction being too too artificial
the happy pleasure of seeing you
very vulgar
Parisian asphalt

for Bergotte
In this Often even what he said explained a what he said formulated so exactly a ideas that I was accustomed to were familiar to me that oft more than one page his seemed no more than a collection of epigraphs, all admirably appropriate, to place at the head of letters that often when I was unable to sleep I wrote to my grandmother or to Mama. They did not expressed the same thing but not perhaps better but through them I read they seemed to me just as detached, valid, while in myself ordinarily I did not separate them from the incessant interrupted and moving chaos of my interior life.

Bloch about Gurcy or somebody else: "he is very nicely chic".
"a frightful success"
"yes he is very kind".
Nucourt le Vineux
Nucourt au Mont
St Jacques des Ardilliers
St Jean des Prés
Comte de Parnes
Comte d'Orsan
Comte Monteriender Montierander
Nucourt le Morin
Nucourt l'Éclin
Nucourt au Rois
Nucourt au Mont

for Cottard: give carte blanche
for the Duc Comte de Guermantes all of my tribe
my paws are making me suffer really playing me up.

for M. de Norpois Brochard or Monfort
show my respects.

Don't forget the brusque kindnesses of Odette and the man[?] she no doubt makes look (voyeur) while she is sleeping with Swann. He hears a noise, no longer wants to and she: "There's never a way to do anything with you." (Baignières)
Mme Verdurin: "We've had one very extinct Swann". "Our Swann" "the most handsome of the Swanns"
for Bloch
what is that excellent puppet. he is very nicely chic.

My grandmother was worried that he would not come to Rivebelle Because in spite of his disdain for the life an aristocratic life and for even when he had fed on his own account the prejudices that he mocked in others and confessed said: "I confess that I am not insensible to being gifted with a personal style, excellent manners, in a stylish dining-room".
And in the last part when he has become virtuous etc... or perhaps at Criquebec and then say as well as for the restaurant
If he remained to a certain extent contemptuous of politeness going so far as to write to my grandmother have faith dear lady in my tender affection, in return, in him a whole scholarly and rhetorical side that he was in him more that he thought made him write to Montargis who he had sent submitted some productions begged at a concert to listen to a piece by a musician that: "I read with the most sustained interest "or" we will give you an audience at a time of your choosing" or and "I dare say" and "I dare to believe" "had I seen myself defending access" had begged him to go and hear his friend who had played on tour: "I heard your friend with the most sustained interest and all the consideration that she deserves and the impression most favourable prepossession I dare to believe that she is not deemed I deem that... I dare to believe that if I dare... you will perhaps judge... had I not seen myself defending access... I would have solicited the honour." everything a protocol to him that he dignified revealed, like his taste for "stylish dining-rooms" following on from what he had bought and of which he. In the same way he ridiculed plenty of family feelings, "gentlemen of honour" but declared his own mother to be exceptionally intelligent and even to have written lyrical pieces that revealed a singular feeling for rhythm, his father to possess a benevolence that dispensed him from judging him intellectually and who he found intelligent for holding the mind to be superior, and finding a "moral cleanliness" in that which is conveniently held in the field and that one does not pocket impertinences.
All the musician (Rivebelle night when my grandmother came) leaves behind like head. Nevertheless that Because everything that he rejected of civilization and of politeness, he naively refused it for himself after being ridiculed in others and thereby gave to those usages that he a continuation or mysterious force that gave him the appearance of being even more stupid than simple people of society the Jockey who accepted them without attaching any importance to them, whereas Bloch seemed vanquished by their power, like a natural philosopher obliged by a superior logic to make of lateness a place for feelings - say of the hotel courteous and well furnished etc. service performed wonderfully.

for Odette

Thus it's never
as since it is if he now found that face that to him that he now found it less pretty, never he never
Thus that face that now seemed to him less pretty had never yet been so dear to him.

You are a skinflint (Françoise)
"Monsieur?" (in the regiment)
For Maria at the Chemisey's. (or elsewhere) Ah how the hand knew the volume so well when each surface well one knew the volume, when there is no part of the surface that the hand touches or the eye touches that they would not want to be able to kiss, when that which enters the cheeks, enters that skin of the arm and that skin of the throat, is precisely as one weighs it up without being able to attain it; that one clearly feels the volume of it that all of it is full and solid when there is not a portion of it we do not delight in; and it is for that that young girls weigh and abound superabound like beautiful fruits, fruits that we in which their sweetness accumulates, in which we seek to taste the pleasures of fruits that one cannot gaze upon other than with desire and for any length of time other than with a great deal of gratitude because within them has ripened, as it has accumulated, as it has sweetened its goodness and that always taste good to our lips; and Maria was one of those fruits hanging high up in orchards from a tree from another year and that summer at Criquebec that made the roads respendent with apple-trees and that now too late at a distance of several years I gathered too late, but but like a fruit that is mine, that I recognized, recovering once more my too long disputed  well-being.
Enormous oak spared pink and dying like an apple-tree in flower.

M. de Guermantes: a prominent person

Strings of instruments like rigging violins like precious Chinese boxes.

Gazes fixed like vultures to tear away the personality of a celebrity.
Hearing the light rapid step of the laundress milkmaid who comes up and I count upon seeing coming into view a young body and ever rising musical harmonic progression did not seem to me more evocative and I waited like the necessary termination of this joyous sound that brought forth the appearance of a young body.

Very important not to be forgotten
For Montargis on Cellicour hill and later in the little village spirit of the Walkyries with famous basses

for Bloch perhaps: Everybody flatters him
(Lagrenée for Prince Henri)

to look at a well-known man ( : gazes like vultures)
affinity which evokes certain creations in the brain of a certain man of whom they are familiar fairies (phrases from Lalo in the Norwegian Rhapsody equal in harmony.)
Again for music witness where the necessary charge (the rondo in Franck's Sonata) takes place, in which is included a nervous strength as with electricity.

Regarding musical harmony like perfume.
Regarding Beethowen musical world that for us is ultraviolet (that we only perceive through the ears, world that remains in shadow (I must forget ideas).
violin and piano wake of the boat on the rippling mauve of the piano. Spanish air by Fauré imprisoned in moonlight. Waves of the finale of the IXth symphony
Mad musician = madness of a bitch.
Hopes of friendship that are born at the corner of a street (E[mmanuel] Bibesco) the sight of a friend (for Montargis in the second part). We are sincere when we say: How pleased I am to see you, we are no longer so when we say "How I was very pleased to see you" and that sounds sad.
Kangaroo boxer.
"For me it's a little woolly" (Mme de Guermantes.)
Mme Cottard does not like Elstir's painting.+++
The lady who desperately wants to be introduced to Risler at the end and will sing him the song of the Ride "Ah I don't know if I don't love the Ride better"
Conservatory [illegible] next to the Chamber of Deputies

For the last part. In short we have recognized things whose name we never knew. Someone speaks to us of love, talent etc. and we have the impression of recognition, as when if we are reading a novel we are convinced it is such and such a region because in reality there is a river, but it is not so.
For the last part. Very beautiful. Each time that we seek to penetr conquer some mystery we think all of a sudden that the natural lever of which we avail ourselves practically is some cold mystery and has become mechanical (conversation the other evening with Plantevignes). I will be able to place it when I ask M. de Guermantes if I can get to know Putbus's chambermaid, perhaps asking Montargis if I can to get to know Mme de Guermantes.

Mme de Guermantes is looking for a young valet. St Jean for M. de Gurcy.

+++ She will say those blue, green red women, and made to look ugly, heavy. Just as for Bergotte she has the false air of somebody who is trying their hand with words. It is the same when one lays bare a cliché. And before the mind has been able to understand the connexion between the thought and the words that will happen during the course of the novel in a way that it is not only glory that comes to Bergotte but an accommodation of human eyes. He is proposed for a directorship in Rome.

Type of persons like Daguerches and talking like Barthelot.
For the last part. Not possible to say interesting things, because what is interesting is what the underground worker does who regulates the electricity while people are talking. And that cannot be heard without being silent.
Chic girlfriend.
That leaves me indifferent
We have had a Cottard
moreover M. Swann you are a man on the march.

People who will say (perhaps Swann and his group) : that touches me infinitely I find that touching from one,  it shows great sensitivity

For M. de Guermantes sarcastic (d'H[aussonville]) through arrogant modesty "nor I have been in Compiègne like M. Filon", and the Waru's father (Jockey) and you smile he will be able to tell me I am not the head of a monastery with ironiy.
Mme de Guermantes will say about somebody (Lorrain) That imbecile has responded (or Paul Desjardins) and I would have been pleased to use him or even Hermant is terrible Coc[?] is terrible
Swann giving Ganderesque details about his wife's illness and similarly in his conversation with her in the evenings that poses however the metaphysical question of his having to go there.

Françoise new line for the letter.
I'd argue by Madame.

M. de Norpois semonizings

The violinist become a medium lent to it his body and his bow and felt the emanations of the incarnate soul that strained his arms, the world tottered, the made his face quiver.

Franck sonata
Is it a bird, a fairy this invisible creature that calls out, sighs, responds like in a neighbouring tree. Like It seems that since it has no words it is the realm of fantasy, and that from necessity; we are struck by the evidence of what the reply, we recognize the same discourse in the insistence of the question and all this is hidden from the intelligence as it is from view. Wonderful violinist who seems to capture, to tame, let complain an invisible and fabulous bird. Put here what I put earlier is it a fairy. What voluptuousness to feel itself become all of a sudden a different being different being, a being from another realm, from a realm where creatures that are no longer seen by the intelligence.
It is more beautiful than becoming invisible, than becoming powerless
This in the next part
Swann was there; he thought that without any doubt he would soon be dead and he listened to those watched confounded to staggering before it.
Great confidence in not dying that the adaptation of the visual machinery that we are to the kaleidoscope of the world we see We tell ourselves To understand is nevertheless to exist, we still carry the weight of this unviverse with us, I still carry the Champs Élysées with me, all those strollers, if just now

It seems to us to be so much more difficult to die when we are many things. In the moment where I find myself those green trees, that sturdy old lady, all those gentlemen with white beards I am conscious of more more reality attached to my life, and even that then I can no longer go out at that moment; if the others I die others would know about it, and without doubt that is possible as I have already seen the night after there had been the light, seen the light and I could no longer understand the night; but all the same this comprehension is so much out of the domain of life, it aspires so much to continue that I cannot believe that it destroys itself in an in someone who denies it. Inside me, it is the old lady who protests at the idea of no longer being understood, it is the monocle of General d'Albon that insists on withholding its meaning, how could it evaporate in an instant this And yet I felt that I was applying to the kaleidoscope of the world a device that was not well designed, find the world hardly troubles to hardly totter still seemed to me very clear, but it the past of my life was in its clearness and saw it as ; but the device itself as it was badly made was conscious of seeing, but they saw the device as broken and out of focus.

The violin
Sonata = country, person, world, bar bathed in sunlight that unfolds crushes with force the sun bathed billows and gives more of an impression of a sunny country than any painting.
Satisfaction that Swann would have had (soirée at the Morengo's) in chatting with Vington in clarifying with him

St Loup en Dunois, en Bray.

Roussainville
Bréhainville
Raspelière
Arrachepel (priory)
Rachepel
Merobert
Marcheville
Beaurouvre
Courville
Gaville

For Tansonville ask M. Mâle if monks have gold robes for Christmas office, Easter office, litanies.
St Jacques au Parvis
Lay steeple
gold buttons
female earldom and viscountship
"You are leaving without giving warning"

Hoyos
I read in the newspaper the betrothal of the Vicomte de Guermantes. It is quite probable that the Vicomte de Guermantes differed little from young people from the same society that were getting married that year. But (perhaps use that from the soirée at the Princesse de Guermantes). But at the time when I had learned the name of Guermantes, I imagined princes in quite another way; all the brilliancy, all the enchantment of those years still filled to the full this appointed name that it did not apply to any person that I knew (as in the Duc de Guermantes) and which meant that by pronouncing it it was about him that I was thinking. Among other society people the Prince de Guermantes appeared to me as if gilded, as if meroving enchanted person impalpable after the manner of an apparition from a magic lantern and even though I was just as astonished to think that people like the Marquis d'Albon could keep company with him, they appeared to me as diferent to him as real people penetrating for an hour into Sleeping Beauty's castle or being present at a soirée given by Riquet with the Tuft. How had he not been to me I longed for prince charming to appear in the midst of these people that were so real and I had no doubt that he would discern straight straight away with the gilded soul enclosed within his name and his person, he would discern with joy the affection that I felt for him.

Don't forget
Arrival at Balbec the second year: Well well, who should be here. There's M. de Montargis (or in the little town) you are going to see him presently (in short a round of questions) and this new life where one does not yet have the time, the trunks not yet unpacked "a bit of dressing to be done" is as agreeable as it would be to know that the first President is here and has asked to see you and would have come to the station had he not been afraid of getting in your way truly it is like Hesperides's apples.

For Franck
But It is not a theme that is taken up again, it is a fresh attack of neuralgia, my difficult to localize, vague and ganglionic.

Don't forget for my grandmother to say that her memory no longer had a foundation and she no longer possessed the intellectual joys that she experienced, that they were slipping away like pleasures that leave nothing of themselves such as the pleasures of food, that the following day she was obliged to reread a phrase or to replay a tune, like taking a drink to quench her thirst.

For Combray
The station was a witness to a past that was so ancient to me that it had taken on the majesty of a gothic monument (it was witness to a past more ancient for me). The fact that the rue du St Esprit still existed is a sign of the for other beings despite my no longer thinking about them is a proof of the reality of an exterior world (could be connected to the École Quartier de Cardeurs at Versailles) and its lack of interest the proof that the interior world alone has any importance.
I heard a voice that had pretty dark eyes.
It's rather dark p'pa, I'm having fun! it's not forbidden, I'm playing. Am I being wicked p'pa?
Everything that M. Bloch is.

For Maria
ardent good things
dead loss
believing in superstitions
Your hands are nice and warm
you love what is good
Dr Cottard's son says to the Baron Marquis de Charlus: My dear Master.
Cottard e cetera
penpusher
M. de Guermantes who is on foot, on horseback

Plantation of American red oaks in Virginia
smoked glass
rue Lapérouse
Mary Stewart by Van Dyck
66 rue Pigalle
"Speeds" of a motor car
14
Rent and chapter
Coagulation
Lady of the manor
for the end
the dealer in iron
the great
the old
née de Crémarest
née d'Echebrune

[page torn out]

Framework
disfigured for scratched out
photographed
St Martin le beau
names of rocks and woods in Normandy
Charlus needing to marry, to walk out with someone
known species of butterflies and sweet-peas that are certain sugar processors (Maria and Gilberte) would it be possible to lead one to the other.

Albert rue Guyau
Leuker rue Auber

Music: That final close combat of two themes where we perceive from moment to moment one part of one from which emerges a part of the other.
To add to Madame de Guermantes in the little town.
Sometimes when the sky was clear, I said to myself, perhaps she is in the country, she is looking at the same stars, perhaps she is thinking about me, I said to myself that when we arrived at the restaurant St Loup was going to say to me: you know devine, good news, I've received a letter from my aunt, she would like to talk to you she's coming here. But he did not The sky.If a breath of wind passed through the air I shivered just as in days gone by in Combray when The sky, the air were not empty I peopled them with with the with thoughts that messages from Madame de Guermantes were running through them in every direction, I felt in my chest an anguish to which the name and the indifference of Madame de Guermantes were not linked in a clear way as cause determined by effect; but But most often this after these moments of forgetting Then I said to myself: might as well try to forget Madame de Guermantes. This thought was frightful to me. But if I saw her again what would that come to. And in the end I was not often I was not too unhappy. But at other moments I felt such immense anguish in my heart to which no doubt the idea of Madame I was obliged to slacken my walk to the restaurant; so much did I Because I felt an immense anguish around my heart to which no doubt indifference, the and the absence of and Mme de Guermantes' distance was not linked in a clear way like cause and effect. But that is put a stop to by what pains us for an entire day. Many elements that have no connexion with Madame de Guermantes, many memories come into it without doubt. I looked at the sky, if it was clear, I said to myself perhaps she is in the country, she is looking at the same stars, and who knows if Robert is going to say to me on our arrival at the restaurant: "good news my aunt has just written to me, she would like to talk to you, she's going to come." But he never said that to me, it was the same in the evening. These daily disappointments sapped my energy, I almost wanted to turn back again. If a breath of wind passed by at that time, I felt myself grow weak then like in days gone by on the Méséglise way when the wind blowing over the corn seemed to be bringing me messages from Gilberte. I filled set all across the the sky and the air a few thousand messages from Mme de Guermantes. My sorrow brought me some pleasure because in it I recognized brought me some pleasure because I knew that it is one of the aspects of love and that to be in love with Mme de Guermantes was perhaps something that related to her and then and thus by my this new sorrow I the particular state in which I found myself proved to be like two maps that one folds one over the other, like to coincide for a over a greater extension with the feeling called love. But then we always hope Without doubt it was by this being in love with Mme de Guermantes being a lover of Mme de Guermantes was to be something else for her, someone whose name could be mentioned while speaking to her but also because always the particular impressions that come to us from people endeavour to rejoin the feelings that are general, common to the rest of humanity. Thus it was that in the suffering I was experiencing as I proceeded many elements that combined that were strangers to Mme de Guermantes, and that had entered into me when I loved Gilberte when Mama no longer came I returned from not being able to sleep, when I read Bergotte. And without doubt this suffering that I had all around my heart, the name, the coldness, the absence of Mme de Guermantes were not linked clearly distinctly as the effect is to the cause that we have uncovered. But I from what I could not would not have been able to clearly explain with clarity, nor even localizing my pain with precision, I did not conclude from that that Mme de Guermantes was not the sole cause. Had there not been diffused physical pains which which do not extending over a large area that come only from a pre[cise] point no doubt from a precise point, however much the that the surgeon can cause to cease by touching vanish by touching a precise point from which without any doubt they issue and to which that however, so much their extension giving them for us the a vagueness we are tempted to attribute to general causes, that and and that from generality and uncertainty, from fatality, we feel ourselves to be powerless to explain to localize, to fight. I I told myself here we are fifteen fourteen since I left her and in that the the division itself of time seemed arithmetically something painful and poetic. One day upon my arrival I found the courage to ask St Loup have you by any chance any news from Paris. Yes he replied with a gloomy expression but it isn't good. I trembled. But it was not on account of his instead of Madame de Guermantes it concerned Robert's mistress. It was true that what he told me had the effect of preventing me from seeing for a considerable time going with him to see Mme de Guermantes for a considerable time.
3614 E
M. de Guermantes I am a millionaire an impenitent.
lies she lies like a drawer of teeth. But I tell you she lies like a drawer of teeth (entreaty like my uncle Georges).

It is extraordinary that M. Souday has reproached me for being incorrect when it is the exaggerated effort of logic that I employ that makes me write in such a disagreeable style.
Possibly vain effort. Because how savoursome are certain inaccuracies (not those that he is reproached for and which are not) of St Simon, because if the ex certain things on the other hand certain collisions of expression such as when he talks of Barbezieux. His humour was terrible and frequent.

Think that Swann will tell me that it is dangerous to introduce a material interest as a reason for being loved. And the look of displeasure of the other himself at having said that.

P.S. 66 rue Balagny or from 6 to 8 Marcadet 07.01 (café situated on the corner of rue Legendre and avenue de St Ouen)
Cercle central 43 rue Vivenne.
Georges Dugény poste restante Place de la République, café on the corner of rue Montmartre and faubourg Montmartre.
Françoise
"to be right with Madame" "listen to gossip"
Pou
Villiers
Catulle
Le Mercure
poppycock

For Bergotte when his output becomes less good. He had had a big effect on his readers but now in return they had one on him so much the greater as his creative powers were growing more feeble. And this perpetual evidence that we have before us when we create and which like our pilot makes us trace aligns us at every moment to the point we choose between all those that we avoid, that is to say our path, this evidence was no longer himself it was his readers, of moreover more simple tastes for which he was happy to be able, in his most mediocre productions, to be able to appeal against his own severity of himself. He found that it was bad One trait did not please him but he permitted it, not being able to do any better and because Mme Swann found it "human".

Concerning Bergotte or Bloch. Because he was not one of those writers who try to imagine the good point of view of their adversary but to gain strength from their own like France (the war, Dr[eyfus] affair Zola), like Kipling. (unpublished letter in Le Temps of 3 or 4 February 1915), lack of sensibility that profits from originality of talent and the clarity of form. (Letter of France's, everlasting infamy for Germany. speech about Zola's tomb. Enormous dunghill that Zola was before when he didn't like him.)
Françoise young man from the family consoles her.
stuff their heads (maybe that would be a bit common for Françoise perhaps Mme Putbus's chambermaid.)
Mme Swann he doesn't have a good press
St Beuve in his more fruitful and intimate letters (I will say one of those distinguished and fruitful minds)

Place in Balbec and in Venice a woman painting watercolours (look at Brouardel's watercolour the distant cliff and of Doncières (no another name) and the steeple of la Salute (not Salute look at the watercolour)
Mme Cottard? You are essentially good he is essentially noble. He is an essentially good creature.
That's an essentially Norman name
M. de Norpois: counter truths
Cottard I was dumbfounded when I learned that your grandmother was dead, I was staggered.
For me doctor when I am leaving for Balbec if I could take to my heels.
the record
Françoise ->
Valleroy for Balleroy in the abandoned woman and with no doubt
Courcelles for Courceulles in the abandoned woman, transparencies Manerville
(abandoned woman, Lily of the valley for Menerville)

-> I don't know where she's learned that habit Naturally it is always her that you answer

Capital
1. in a place where I will talk about ancient things that are not so distant from us, about Time which is some

Capital
In the place during my second stay at Balbec where I put the phrase about the blue swimming-pool sky or rather not exactly in that place but on a similar day which will be another of the days when I go out with Albertine (and because of that it would be better to put the walk already written where we I encounter a on horseback an aeroplane earlier, so as to have already seen it before what I am going to say.)
This is the new thing, capital. On certain days because of the heat, we only went out very late. Above the white wall of the little yard the sky sky was of a pale blue but was entirely of a that blue quite pale but so unified, so that radiant and so pale like a walker lying down in a field sometimes sees it above his head, but who is so unified, so deep, that one feels the blue that it is made of a blue without any the blue from which it is made has been employed without any impurity and with such an inexhaustable richness that one could examine its substance deeper and deeper without encountering an atom of anything other than the same blue. I thought about my grandmother who so much loved the work of human hands, in nature, the grandeur, and who delighted in seeing the steeple of St Hilaire rising up in the same blue. Suddenly I heard a noise, a new noise, and that she would have loved so much. I looked at the sky It was like the noise of wasps the buzzing of a wasp. Like the walker lying down in a field I looked all around me and saw only the untainted and unadulterated blue. Françoise came to tell me, "if Monsieur wants to look, there's an aeroplane, it's very high up, very high up". I looked all around me but like the walker lying down in a field I only saw, with no spot of black, the untainted and unadulterated pale blue. Yet I could still hear the buzzing of wings that I could not see. All of a sudden I they entered into my field of vision that circumscribed the white limestone wall. With tiny There up on high tiny brown and glittering wings were contracting into a point the uniform pale and unalterable blue of the sky. Eventually I was able to trace attribute the buzzing to its cause, to that little insect that was trembling up on high, without doubt a good two thousand metres above us; I heard it roar. Perhaps when distances on land on appeared were not as abridged long ago as they are today like speed, a distant noise could be was invested with this sublimity that it has lost and that bestowed upon me that day the buzzing of a wasp, heard as if close by, of an aeroplane from two thousand metres. Indicating a new direction of distances - like those eddies that streak a whole half part of the ocean in calm weather, like those shadows that settle along the length of the mountains and stretch down into the valley - this noise of a motor noise of a motor in the tremor of its buzzing brought forth a new conception that of measurement from bottom to top in the vertical sense, as if there  had never been any other than the horizontal, the idea of travel that makes where the kilometers are are to be reckoned by leaving distance from the ground and not distance over the ground.
The whistle of a passing train two kilometres away would it have were attended still with this new beauty familiar still sublime beauty that it has lost and which now for some time still astonishes us still in when in the buzzing of an aeroplane two thousand metres up, it touches us from the idea with the idea of a voyage that a voyage can be measured not from a point on the ground, but vertically, by distancing itself from the ground be accomplished vertically as well as over the ground, by distancing itself from the ground, that distances are the same, that kilometres can be counted in that direction that where measurements appear to us distinct from what at first had seemed to us inaccessible, an aeroplane that is two thousand metres high is no farther away than a train two kilometres away is any closer, because the same voyage is taking place in a purer environment, with no separation between the traveller and his point of departure, as on the sea in calm weather when the backwash of a ship streaks that is already far off streaks the whole ocean, as in those fields above Combray where the breaths of wind that had caressed Gilberte reached as far as me. In this way, at two thousand metres in the pure air this with that sublime grandeur familiar that touched sublimity that moved my grandmother so much, such height of blue sky crossed by it, held before all the simple manifestations of nature and of art over which one felt a token, a coefficient of incalculable grandeur, we felt in the tiny wasp-like buzzing in all the height and all the purity that nothing intercepted, the distinctness so close to the tiny wasp-like buzzing of the aeroplane all the height all the purity where nothing intercepted the sonorous wake, all the accessible and beloved height of the friendly and vertiginous and sweet summer sky that it had traversed.
On the following page I put some more different remarks about aeroplanes.

Brichot.
Souday. quite strong lies. dull and useless scenes of stereotyped quibbles over those words that in the revival of language are the flotsam of a shipwreck from an earlier literary epoch.

Clemenceau for the results of precariousness.
More Aeroplanes.
whether it is for (there are some very good things on the previous page) And I will also put in some good things in 6 pages further on) Or even This is all something else and will serve either as a comparison, or during the plight of the siege of Paris. In the blue sky evening of the summer sky we saw in the distance one that a small brown spot that one would have taken for a gnat or a bird. Just as when we see a mountain from a great distance we could think it was a cloud. But we are moved because we know that this cloud is immense and unyielding. In the same way I knew that the black brown spot that was buzzing in the summer sky was neither a gnat nor a bird, but an aeroplane sent up by men and watching over us. And later one hour later in the depth of the night that intensified the extinction of the street-lights, there was no over this Paris whose needless beauty was defenceless there was nothing but the ancient light and unchanging splendour of a vast moon, ironical and sympathetic, there were other lights, the intermittent flares that one knew were sent out from the top of the Eiffel tower by an intelligent will and watched over us and gave me the same emotion, the same impression of gratitude and calm that I had felt the in St Loup's room, at in the cloister where the military virtues of so many disciplined hearts were exercising who had made the sacrifice of their life. Express that better. Perhaps it could be in this Paris that we are chatting St Loup, Bloch and myself, Bloch could talk about Turpin's asphyxiating powder and, Moroccans that take no prisoners, Japanese German villages destroyed by what a civilian had taken, about Italy to whom nobody gives advice but who would have her proportional slice of the cake, which did not prevent him telling me St Loup being indignant if the Germans use poison gas, take no prisoners, wage a campaign against neutrals etc. I could also speak about Paris, a kind of port of disembarkation where the uniforms of every country intersected one against the other, Algerian cavalry, English Tommies, etc. by the compensating influx to the reflux to the fronts of the whole virile population (double joy for M. de Charlus). put that too. Remember that at Mme de Villeparisis' Bloch said with admiration to M. de Norpois (: it : it appeared that the German emperor Wilhelm II had given his word of honour that Dreyfus was innocent. And then I never believed that a German emperor would lie. So much the more so since I know perfectly well that Wilhelm this one loves France very much. I have a friend whose father was on a has a boat yacht on which he went to the Kiel regattas. He saw the emperor. Perhaps he will be able to take me next year, this I confess I would be very that would be a great day for me. I think that we are not responding sufficiently to his advances.
- And in the Paris night Bloch who will believe that we are victors will say to St Loup: My word, you call him the emperor Wilhelm as if you were scared of him and as if he already had us under his boot. (Bloch will have already called him Wilhelm several times during the conversation). He had forgotten how much he had been how much a few years ago he had longed to be presented to him at the Kiel regatta and did not think any punishment was too infernal for him now, because that is always how it is with sychophants of the powerful that get themselves recruited (the concept is better placed somewhere else) the those who cry: to death on the passage of the conquered." When Bloch was gone: "My dear chap the things that you doubt that I know about are not so much as our brave Bloch imagines etc." He is going to take it upon himself.
Somebody will always say: "One It is my advised opinion and all necessary measures having being taken and in a given period of time. But we will never know any more than the person who says it how long this "period of time" will last so that the given meaning will be quite mysterious.

Say also
You are in a position to
Françoise or Aimé
That This horse that one has straight away
(to say now, as opposed to what one had formerly)

Mme de Cambremer Legrandin That always interests me to hear to allege (for to cite) a great comic artist in the sense[?] of actresses
M. de Norpois wrote essays in which he said he worked for the king of Prussia and when he quoted the a phrase from a German work speech he he put in German in parentheses something completely unsuitable. "So it happened" (So kam es) Which added nothing. That was the downfall. He felt the peril well and truly. to France which is the least I can say. We were going straight for the rupture for which this is not the place
Balzac in La Femme de trente ans Mme de St Héreen, in Goriot Marcilhac [sic] of which no names things interchangeable, living.
St Simon "I was to sleep were it not its accomodation I had in the place"
Françoise there is a place for sighing
Brichot it's a dirty trick
M. de Guermantes a valiant knight
Letter to share
M Françoise I say nothing more and lend it
Baron de Charlus Marquis d'Oloron Prince de C d'Agrigente and des Dunes.
The Marquis and Marquise de Cambremer
The M. de Norpois: the hand in the sack
Eugène Muller 84 avenue de St Ouen.
Bloch: which is quite farcical
Mme de Guermantes I am not acquainted but I know very well who you want to say. (Aimery Straus)
the Gilberte wants to sell Tansonville to Mme de St Euverte (Reux to the Ephrussis).

Add to aeroplanes. And at that distance of the far off view within the black buzzing point I distinguished the fine face of a man with that emotion we feel when from the distance of so many centuries on reading Homer we still thoughts so similar to those that the best of us can have miracle in this Homer who believed gave to the Gods the face of more distant from us than Olympus realizes this miracle prodigy that he attributed perhaps wrongly to Jupiter and to Pluto but who is true for him is perhaps mistaken in giving a human face to the Gods but who provides us in any case for our admiration a greater and incontestable prodigy that he himself, more distant from us than if he was on Olympus offers us when we read the oath of Hector cajoling his son our perfect likeness.

Capital
When St Loup tells me that he could telephone the Duchesse de Guermantes or else Elstir the girls: "That can be fixed for you straight away"
St Loup could perhaps telephone Mme de Guermantes using the same telephone that I used to telephone my grandmother, from Doncières). How astonishing to think or rather introduce into a phrase spoken to me "That can be fixed for you straight away. Do you want to ask the Duchesse de Guermantes on my behalf" offering me thus one of the means of communication to say to obtain a communication and in the wave of the hand an immediate communication with the life that was inaccessible to us and which no longer seems so to us, yet quite wrongly, since that ease that astonishes us on account of the prestige surrounding for us everything that concerns her house, everything that will echo through her hallway, does not signify any more than our unsuspected misunderstood love for a person on the telephone will be granted, than the touch of his hat by a prefect of police with whom we are on good terms means only that the crime we have commited and that he is still unaware of is something of no importance and which we should not worry about (look into the comparison because that was not clear).

Capital
During the walks with Mme de Villeparisis when I think that a passing young girl is perhaps prettier than she is (or else when I go out in Paris); because on she was ravishing, it was a terrible loss that I caused or so I thought; because a pretty contour of her body, or a pretty facial complexion imperfectly glimpsed had made me in all good faith add so as to complete the image a little trace ravishing shoulder a little delightful look that I carried within me, so that by looking too quickly, I made the same error that those who read too quickly and for a single similar syllable, put in the place of what is written a quite different word that their memory furnishes for them.

More aeroplanes (see previously 6 and 7 pages not far away - I think 6 double pages so 12).
And moreover before long there were close to Rivebelle one of those aircraft hangars where where we and that are for are for aeroplanes , what harbours are for boats. We would often go there with Albertine to see among the separated at rest the movement of machines into shelter, the

Françoise to take money to the bank

we would often go there with Albertine, drawn by the spect that endless life of departures to go and of arrivals which for those who love the sea give so much charm to walks along jetties, or even simply along the beach, and to trips saunters through aerodromes for those who love the sky. At every moment among the repose of the inert machines and as if at anchor we would see one laborious pulled by several mechanics just as the boat is hauled dragged over the sand that has been requested by a walker who wants to go on the sea. Then the engine was started up, the machine ran along and all of a sudden took flight then lifting itself up in a gentle leap, the immobility ecstatic and tightened transformed of all speed it was afloat, the mechanics came back. Soon the rider had covered kilometres and the great skiff was nothing more than a distant little point in the blue that later little by little recovered its materiality its bulk, its volume when the moment had come to bring back to port the rider who had been to savour far and wide, the coolness in those solitary horizons, the coolness of evening.
Françoise if you want to listen to gossip

For the diners with
One evening (a particular evening because the moon cannot still be in its last quarter) it was so hot that Albertine and myself would dream about the fruits that we would find when we got back to quench our thirst and in the already half nocturnal sky the moon appeared at because completely narrowed in its last quarter and appeared hardly there; if even more so thin feebly thin because of the still light hour that one would have said our eyes feverish with thirst thought we had seen in it like the faint presence faint paring of an inward curving fruit that an inward curving knife had begun to delicately peel in the sky.

For Venice and Albertine
See too in the black exercise book on Venice definitely perhaps rather for Venice rather than for Paris
Often I encountered women who were pleasing to me and trying in the narrowing meanderings of a town (see the phrase composed about the unknown place) I encountered two lower class women who appeared delightful to me in that semi obscurity; I wanted to stop them, first of all follow the inclusion following page: already in Paris I thought how often Albertine must have stopped similar people, That and I thought about it now with no feeling of sadness. But I would have liked her to have been with me, or at least tell her afterwards what I had done, that she could tell me similar adventures that she had had. The image of But by evoking for me without even without the bringing before me her wide face close to mine exchanging with me these confidences was sweet for me but as I was unable to forget what was due to me and I felt that in the adventure that itself seeking out what had made it complete and had also been its greatest cost the adventure that I would have missed that I could have had made me experience a feeling no longer of complete jealousy, but of tenderness, melancholy and emptiness. Definitely add to that when I wanted her to know that I had pretty girls (which is in the green exercise book)

Inclusion from the page at the back:
Already in Paris I was picturing to myself the lives of those passers-by as something marvellous. Now I wanted to stop them, as Albertine must often have done. But like a gentle habit that renders a journey painful to us that up till that point had been tempting to our imagination. Fit that into the page at the back.
Could join to that the excellent formula in the ante-penultimate verso (or quite nearly) of the large blue exercise book, carries the passionate automatons no it's 8 pages before the end of the exercise book.
See again capital 3 double pages later on

Pastiche of Cocteau
Without doubt Le Mo
We would like to say a word to you. Le Mot Without doubt Le Mot admits of we are rightly obliged to admit for the necessity necessity of future Illiads the insult of the flight of the wind to the Caryatid. But notwithstanding Ingres and the sublime and the and Degas that we recognize who remain sublime it is danger Le Mot does not believe that it need inflict would be imprudent to remove from the feet heels of the Discobolus the charitable delight of the hot water bottle. Le Mot has always recognized that Phidias is inscribed that beneath every balaclava helmet is our Phidias. But the danger is that one meets that in place of that one encounters Abel Faivre that in going to seek him out or one encounters in his place Abel Faivre or what would be worse still, Marinetti.

M. de Norpois he has risen again vigorously
To put somewhere where I'll talk about sleep (for example when I am missing my grandmother).
I One can hardly speak about those moments where one suffers it sufferings even physical than one experiences at moments when one is deeply completely asleep. The ray of clarity consciousness that filters into us when sleep they become The first ray When sleep becomes less deep Indeed they The first ray of consciousness that filters into us illuminates them but (when sleep becomes less deep), destroys them just as it illuminates them. The object to recognize is destroyed is annihilated in the proportion that we make use of an instrument of recognition. Is it Perhaps that which the consciousness then suppresses, is the particular memory of those states. So that which we do not remember is for us as if it had never been. It is probable that every evening on the threshold of that crisis of alienation we accept living through the night of infinities of suffering which will be null and void when wakefulness places its finger on our forehead like a demagnetizing device. Perhaps after death it is with a heart as light that as unknowing that we will be astonished to have ->
Françoise: Monsieur brings me back to life with that
-> lacked courage in the face of life's sufferings, annihilated along with the particular memory of human life having brought them. It seems as much as we can recognize with the first glimmers of a sleep illuminated by dreams the final moments of a more oppressive sleep that we need during the course of our sleep (as perhaps during the course of a surgical operation) reserves of courage and resignation to surmount the passages filled with horror but which have not come to pass for the creature for whom memory binds itself to the moment that preceded them. But after that unknowable night our sleep is made only from that unknowable night. Every night each one of us ->
Towards and against everything Cottard will say or Cambremer
-> is more or less prey to these intermittent attacks of mental alienation, where we are surrounded by the dead, where a creature man has the face of somebody else when it is not a horse's head or lampshade. Apparitions of my grandmother to follow.
Françoise: she wept everthing that she knew.
M. de Norpois knew to say to write: "The least I can say about it" what set him apart in diplomacy had led him to the Sciences Morales and made him dream of the Académie Française. Before saying that say that like all diplomats he knew to say: Be sure not to ignore the Willemstrasse but even more he knew to say: "The least I can say about it etc."
Mme Verdurin: But as for me I answer you that.
This (what is to come) is what is indicated 3 pages earlier thus: See Capital 3 double pages further on). That will be good for Venice.
At Balbec I already liked my day to be leading towards an encounter with some young girl, and I have said that in Paris when during my walks with Albertine I noticed two little girls working girls who I found desirable, to have had them analogously through a pimp would not have satisfied me, rather I wanted to come to them by penetrating the particular atmosphere of their lives, while submitting to its deviations. Was it because I had less strength, that I had fewer desires than before? Now it is to in these episodes that might lead direct me towards a success that above all I made consist wholly of pleasure, what I tried to populate my days with were little idylls that did not go too far and where by going to ask a young girl for some shellfish, a piece of lace, I made her laugh, I touched her all over with my gaze, I was accustomed succeeded in making my image penetrate inside her thoughts. But perhaps too it was simply the development of all the desires I had so often had on the Méséglise way, in the streets of Paris, during our walks with Mme de Villeparisis. Having passed close by to the life my the objects of my desires without knowing, I wanted to try to give myself some account at least of a little of what I had lost, to gain a little touch of the curtains of the unknown that ->
St Beuve in me all this lack of fiction.
-> were shrouding what I had desired, the habits, the life of those girls and to give me some account of what they consisted. Better to say first what comes a few pages before that I encounter girls in the night desire them but immediately think about Albertine and withdraw. That And I'll add: that did not prevent me during the day not to be unmindful of the time to go and see the shellfish seller, the bakery girl and then take up again what is on the previous page (a double page in reality 3 pages from this line: At Balbec I already liked my day - up until of what they consisted.
And (most capital) I will say: Often I recalled some young thing that I had desired in times gone by like the milk girl on the way to Balbec. If I I will add at that point (after the word consisted) Indeed if I had been completely faithful to those continually deferred desires, if I had wanted (probably complete this phrase) well set out in the oldest white linen exercise book or maybe green) by finally possessing one of those things that were desired to know the value of an object of desire, since I had conceived this desire as something unique it is the same object that I would have sought. And indeed I often recalled with a desire of extraordinary violence some girl that I had desired, for example the milk girl on the way to Balbec. I saw her again, but alas I saw her as she was then. And I realized as with Mme Putbus's chambermaid that she would no longer be like that today. So that if I had formerly been led to make flesh my impression of the uniqueness of a desire by seeking in place of a convent girl lost from view, an analogous convent girl, now time having done its work, to rediscover lost time, to rediscover the girls that had disturbed my youth, I felt that I must make a same dispensation to this principle, that it was not them what I had to seek was not them, girls who were sixteen years old at that time, but the ones who were sixteen years old now. Because what I loved was instead of what was most specific about their person and which had eluded me, was their youthfulness, and that the youthfulness of others no longer existed other than in my torrid memory but which could no longer find its object in reality. I'll finish this off with what I have written on (I don't know which exercise book) on the reason why I seek the youth of each year (that would be very good here). then when that's finished I'll contine as I said.

St Beuve on Swann but there again there is insistence and excess.
One would like more air and connections.
Something else.
M. d'Argencourt (Mandeville Manchester) who at Mme de Villeparisis's will be very contemptuous of M. de Charlus (it will be him for whom he lets go my arm) will all of a sudden position himself as being very friendly with him. See brown exercise book.
M. de Charlus those inverts must be like the Vestals' college, all the young people one doesn't know, are they, aren't they it's irritating [illegible]

Capital
For one of the characters I'm not sure which (perhaps a son of Cottard who is malicious and cunning, his parents were stupid, it appeared he had had a malicious and cunning great-uncle). So it is that in families there are certain Kobolds, certain natures filled with fantasy and malice for whom life runs well with no harsh disconuity  Thus the idea we have of the duration of our life terminated by death only applies to a part of the individual; there is all in all in this interweaving of beings that we call an indi->
St Simon the most select elixir, break the most dangerous mirrors, proceed cautiously. People imitating the style of the 17th century, he has anticipated the hour to say has come too soon. St Simon portrait of L[ouis] XIV.
->vidual as well some hu mortal creatures who live sixty years but also long-lived gods, or certain Kobolds and, natures filled with fantasy and malice woven into our blood and that live much longer than the duration of one generation. They make a thousand jokes, dictate a thousand charming suggestions in an individual sleeping drowsing for fifty years and awakening beginning to stir once again in his young nephew.

Françoise (perhaps the old valet for her) cause to grumble
Don't forget when I say that artists (when I say it about Elstir more than when I say it about Wagner) each have their own universe, to add a more profound section that I have already written that precious little observation felt in front of a Corot at Jacques Blanche's house.
If something If something If something were needed (Taking everything into account, if we wanted to explain to get to the bottom of things, that the artis the appearance indicated by the artist is not what he has, in the accepted sense of the word, seen, but the externalization of an underlying impression) What being able to If something were needed to prove that there is not one universe but as many universes as there are individuals, and which are all different what could prove it what could prove it better, than the fact that if we see in a collector's house a barn, a church, a farm, a tree, we tell ourselves: "Look, an Elstir" recognizing them as so many fragments of that world seen by Elstir and which he alone sees.
M. de Norpois let's go then. Mme Verdurin poppycock
Don't forget in Paris during the War that M. de Guermantes Charlus told me: "Isn't it wonderful this Paris, an exotic port crowded with soldiers from every country, even Africans in red culottes, Asiatics in turbans... Like the motley colours in a painting by Carpaccio as->

Mme Cottard I find that once a year they need fresh air, the open-air, a change of air

-> poor Swann would have said. Because you understand I live outside of things, as if from above, I see all this from an artist's point of view. If I keep looking at those Senegalese, it's in paint as a painter would do... Then like the need to unbosom himself or to make laugh at an explanation  They have the colours of figures by Decamps or Delacroix and often the young face of an Ingres odalisque" but if the desire to explain his life in a decent way beginn dictated the beginning of his sentences, all the more it was the need to unbosom himself or to cause laughter that terminated them; and also he would murmur as if he was talking to himself unconsciously, but however taking the greatest care that I should hear: "I seem to remember though that there's one of those buggers really made me squawk not so long ago." And with a final pirouette: "What am I saying don't take any notice of that last remark it wasn't a confidence it was a quotation. Ah! my young friend as poor Swann again would say how interesting life is. In any case that doesn't stop this Paris, unreal city where one could imagine that St George's struggle was about to take place or the coming of St Ursula, is so picturesque with its gathering of different coloured uniforms. We must love beauty in all its forms. And a few hours later when they extinguish the lights because of the Zeppelins isn't Paris a sort of Stamboul out of Loti where one can hardly make out the women obsc hidden in the darkness like Turkish women, on their unlit balconies. It is Mme It is a cause for disappointments because in this black night barely lit by the twinkling of a shaded lamp Mme Verdurin leaning over the Bosphorus over the view of the Quai Conti assumes the mystery of Azyadé we think we can make out the mystery of an Azyadé who gazes on  out from the shadows, over the Bosphorus of the Quai Conti and it is just Mme Verdurin. But ->
They say Foch is a proud soldier like Besnard is a fine painter, a fine artist, the good painter Boucher

-> in this night such pretty sky blue uniforms, such encounters that on this night appear to be happening far far away from Paris, further even than Loti's colonial Orient, in the countries of the "man hunt!"
Françoise HAVEN'T THEY TALKED ABOUT THAT IN THE NEWSPAPERS Françoise Wensday
St Simon tries to tunnel me in whatever it was
M. de Norpois It is a master stroke Vaugoubert has carried off in the high struggle.
M. de Guermantes It's as easy as anything M. de Guer by a veritable Nimrod.
Mme Cottard: I always give my orders rather laconically
M. de Norpois cut the cables "not to say more".
principiis obsta
Vulgarity of
Cottard the thousand franc notes that the Grand Hôtel must cost you.
Bloch's father talking about St Loup in a chummy tone.
Norpois or Brichot in the gutter press.
Françoise: haven't they talked about that in the newspapers
When I talk about the distinction (Princesse Polignac, Mun articles) that is found in like an indelible imprint in the great noblemen, as far as we know them to be, I shall say that there is also a certain narrowness: Mun cannot shake off  "the Emperor Wilhelm". It is a distinction but it is also a subjection, a loss of liberty, he takes his knowledge from the world, we think him erudite, he does not possess the divine liberty of genius. Abbreviate that in a phrase by Flaubert.

Françoise: What a gift you have made me.
"At least with him nobody can tell him stories."
Clemenceau it is from a rather fine education, it is of rather lofty significance
His mer genius which is to talk well.
Peloponnesian War Phidias

It is perfectly common, perfectly boring. (It will probably be Odette who has assumed this way of speaking) (or somebody else)
Don't forget among the names ones that are noble first names Hervé Florian
Don't forget the preface to La Chartreuse to show that for Stendhal literature is only the substitute for a good evening with sabayon and on the other hand to excuse the immorality of my book don't forget contrary to the erudition Balzac's errors about Raphaël pointed out by him then not retained at the end of Goncourt's La Maison d'un artiste, either at the end of the first or the second volume (rare editions)

Briquebec
Counterpanes of lamps
Skies of plush beds
'Modern style' furniture
Lattice-work of a balcony
Stone of a balcony
Maidservant mill
made to costruct book-cases the length of the walls
full of mahogany
cold chicken, cherries, Asti wine?
And its power increased tenfold by the curve of its course and the approach of its goal.
Statue surmounting the basin holding a child in its arms.
Stamped monogram silver helmet
houri
Beaulaincourt cap
name like Briquebec name of property.
young toll collector, commonplace bakehouse. tithe barn
1st President from ...
Advocate from ...
Stockbroker from ...
Notary from x -
Samovar on old red English crepe.

Pont de Claye
Isère

_________

2nd Company
M. Alfred Lenoir 7 rue du Mt Thabor

In the year of our Lord 1894

Due to the fragmentary nature of these notes it is not possible to create a strictly coherent translation. Some parts are necessarily conjectural. There are copious explanatory notes in Carnets, Gallimard 2002 which I have chosen not to include in this translation as they would have almost doubled its length.
-> indicates a continuous text that has been interrupted by an additional note.

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