Tag: French literature
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Proust and my day
Proust’s sentences are like extended, protracted, interminable, long-drawn-out silkworms ; precious creatures producing the finest of fabric: text. Even people who have never read any of Proust’s writing know that his sentences are gentle behemoths–so long as to make you forget they even had a beginning once you reach their elusive end. They might not…
Sarah Owl Jewett 