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buddhafish's review against another edition
4.0
As many other reviewers have identified, the story behind this tiny book is more intriguing in some ways to the book itself. Eric Karpeles has written an introduction that must be read prior to the text itself, which sits otherwise without context in the back half of the book. Józef Czapski was one of many Polish prisoners in a Russian prisoner-of-war camp, kept alive where others had been shot, though they did know why, whether it was God or Fate. To keep their spirits and their sense of self, the prisoners decided that before sleep every night, they would give each other lectures, each prisoner speaking in a field they knew most. Czapski (a painter first and foremost) began by giving lectures of his fellow prisoners about art, but soon shifted his focus onto Proust’s In Search of Lost Time.
Of course, no books were allowed in the camp, so Czapski went by his memory alone. He could (like Proust could apparently recite entire pages of Balzac), bring forth passages from Proust verbatim. In this way, more parallels between lecturer and subject were drawn; Czapski realised the importance of involuntary memory, which is one of the many themes that ties the whole of Proust’s novel together. But, as Karpeles says in his introduction, ‘Technically speaking the book in your hand was not written by Józef Czapski He never sat down to commit to paper the words that appear in this volume, but two separate handwritten dictations would eventually be converted into two sets of typewritten pages.’ He goes on to say,
His lectures themselves had a different focus than I imagined. The tone is easy. Czapski describes trying once to read Proust (beginning with Vol. 3 and realising it was near enough a 600-page dinner party) and swiftly dropped it before getting ill several months later and trying again (this time with Vol. 5) and falling in love. My experience with Proust was very much the same: I began Vol. 1 in Paris, gave up, and then several months later pulled it off my shelf and began reading again, and was in love. Czapski also gives anecdotes about Proust’s character (he befriended many of Proust’s old friends before the war, though never met the man himself, of course, he began reading him several years after he had died). His memory mostly serves him well, it is interesting to see which scenes and ideas come to him in his prison camp. Naturally he talks about the two great epiphanies in the novel, the tasting of the madeleine in the beginning of Vol. 1 and the epiphany that happens right at the end of Vol. 7 (which, amazingly, I discovered in this book, Proust apparently wrote the final volume before all the others). People call this a good introduction before committing to Proust; I disagree. If one intends to read the whole novel, I would avoid reading this beforehand, for Czapski does talk about later events, the big ideas at the end of the novel, and all the other things I read over 4,000 pages to discover myself. It is meant to be that way. Proust had grand ideas for his novel —
— and to spoil some of the larger moments of it through someone else’s thoughts would be a shame, I think.
Overall a tiny but multifaceted look at Proust himself, his illness, his writing process and the moments and themes of his giant novel. I’ve only recently finished his whole novel myself, so I can almost still feel it settling down somewhere in my brain or soul; I am yet to speak with any conviction about whether it changed my life, even whether it was worth months of continuous reading. I am, however, fascinated by the history of this small book and the man it was written about, a sickly man who devoted his entire life to the writing of such a long and complex book.
Of course, no books were allowed in the camp, so Czapski went by his memory alone. He could (like Proust could apparently recite entire pages of Balzac), bring forth passages from Proust verbatim. In this way, more parallels between lecturer and subject were drawn; Czapski realised the importance of involuntary memory, which is one of the many themes that ties the whole of Proust’s novel together. But, as Karpeles says in his introduction, ‘Technically speaking the book in your hand was not written by Józef Czapski He never sat down to commit to paper the words that appear in this volume, but two separate handwritten dictations would eventually be converted into two sets of typewritten pages.’ He goes on to say,
Czapski’s talks, and our knowledge of the circumstances under which they were given, have been handed down to us in this form. Further details remain difficult to verify. We know that Soviet censors monitored all public gatherings in every prison camp, disallowing the presentation of any potentially seditious (i.e. anti-communist) material. Any spoken text had to be submitted in written form for prior approval […] And we know from Czapski that this text was transcribed after the fact of his having given the lectures, not before. How was this procedural detail overcome? Over how many days or weeks did he give his lectures? How many did he give in all? “I dictated part of these lectures,” he wrote (my italics). How much more material was there in his original presentations? When were the handwritten transcriptions typed up, where, and by whom? A typewriter would not have been available to prisoners in the camp. How did these pages, in any form, manage to leave the USSR, and in whose possession? Questions pile up, one uncertainty proposing another.
His lectures themselves had a different focus than I imagined. The tone is easy. Czapski describes trying once to read Proust (beginning with Vol. 3 and realising it was near enough a 600-page dinner party) and swiftly dropped it before getting ill several months later and trying again (this time with Vol. 5) and falling in love. My experience with Proust was very much the same: I began Vol. 1 in Paris, gave up, and then several months later pulled it off my shelf and began reading again, and was in love. Czapski also gives anecdotes about Proust’s character (he befriended many of Proust’s old friends before the war, though never met the man himself, of course, he began reading him several years after he had died). His memory mostly serves him well, it is interesting to see which scenes and ideas come to him in his prison camp. Naturally he talks about the two great epiphanies in the novel, the tasting of the madeleine in the beginning of Vol. 1 and the epiphany that happens right at the end of Vol. 7 (which, amazingly, I discovered in this book, Proust apparently wrote the final volume before all the others). People call this a good introduction before committing to Proust; I disagree. If one intends to read the whole novel, I would avoid reading this beforehand, for Czapski does talk about later events, the big ideas at the end of the novel, and all the other things I read over 4,000 pages to discover myself. It is meant to be that way. Proust had grand ideas for his novel —
He had wanted the whole thing to appear in a single volume, without paragraphs, without margins, without sections or chapters. The prospect was seen as completely ridiculous by the most refined edtors in Paris, and as a result Proust was forced to break his book up into fifteen or sixteen sections, as each separately titled volume was broken down into two or three sections
— and to spoil some of the larger moments of it through someone else’s thoughts would be a shame, I think.
Overall a tiny but multifaceted look at Proust himself, his illness, his writing process and the moments and themes of his giant novel. I’ve only recently finished his whole novel myself, so I can almost still feel it settling down somewhere in my brain or soul; I am yet to speak with any conviction about whether it changed my life, even whether it was worth months of continuous reading. I am, however, fascinated by the history of this small book and the man it was written about, a sickly man who devoted his entire life to the writing of such a long and complex book.
lschiff's review against another edition
4.0
A gem of a book that has much to offer even those who haven't read Proust. I still have the last volume to read, but these lectures have inspired me to go back to Volume 1.
fionnualalirsdottir's review against another edition
Despite his name figuring prominently in the the title of the book, Proust is not the primary subject of this account of a combat against degradation; he is simply the vehicle for this unique story of bravery and stoicism in the face of death.
When the German army entered Polish territory on the 1st of September 1939, Joseph Czapski, aged 43, a former officer in the Polish army, rejoined his regiment and was sent to fight on the Russian front. By the 27th of the month he was a Soviet prisoner of war along with fifteen thousand other Polish officers and soldiers. They were kept in various prison camps in the USSR between October 1939 and 1941.
Czapski spent most of his internment in a camp at Griazowietz, some five hundred kilometres north east of Moscow. Of the fifteen thousand originally captured, the four hundred or so prisoners at Griazowietz were the only survivors. The rest disappeared without trace; many thousands of them are now known to have been executed in the forests of Katyn near Smolensk.
That is simply the background information; the main text of this book is an account of the seminars Czapski conducted from memory for his fellow prisoners during any free time remaining after hours spent working under harsh and degrading conditions. He and his fellow soldiers sought to combat their physical and mental collapse by sharing their knowledge with each other. They had originally planned to deal with political and military history but the authorities quickly removed anyone who spoke of those subjects. That only left literature, painting and music, and so, with the help of the arts, Czapski and his comrades tried to maintain their dignity as thinking, feeling human beings.
Czapski had spent some years in Paris and had read the many volumes of Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu several times over. In the confines of the camp, and with nothing but an old copybook and some pencils, he set about recreating the text and examining its themes using diagrams and sketches as well as many quotes he had learned by heart. He situates Proust’s work in its time and talks of his principal influences as well as the works which Proust influenced in his turn. The feat of memory involved is truly impressive.
Czapski covers a lot of themes in this 60 page essay but perhaps the most moving aspect for me is his firm acknowledgement that Proust, who never mentions God in his thousands of printed pages, shows himself nevertheless to be the most tolerant of individuals, seeking simply to understand the passions which drive us all, the base and so-called degenerate as well as the more noble and pure of mankind’s obsessions. That this idea could be seen and understood by a man being held prisoner in dreadful conditions by an enemy force is proof of what Proust himself believed in most fervently: the redeeming power of art.
sydsnot71's review against another edition
5.0
This is a slim, but rather marvelous book. Based on lectures Czapski gave to his fellow prisoners in a Soviet Prison camp after the Nazi-Soviet pact had seen Poland split between two terrible regimes. Now is not the place for a lecture on Poland during World War Two but it was Poland that lost the largest percentage of its citizens in World War Two.
Czapski was lucky to survive. An officer in the Polish Army his fate might have been that of thousands of his colleagues - a secretive death at the hands of the Russians.
They are wonderful lectures. If you ever want to persuade someone that reading Proust is worthwhile then give them a copy of this book. It does a brilliant job of exploring the themes in the novels - although I'm only two and a tad volumes into 'In Search of Lost Time' - and making you want to read more.
It's also worth reading to show how art can be a balm even in the worst places. Capski and his colleagues lectured each other on different subjects so they wouldn't be broken by their situation. So, I found myself wondering what it must have been like listening to this man talking about a book that I had never read and that I might never get to read.
Read it if you get the chance. It's mind-expanding and life-affirming. Oddly - and indirectly - it reminded me of 'Man's Search for Meaning' by Victor Frankl. Or, if not reminded, seemed a companion piece to it.
Czapski was lucky to survive. An officer in the Polish Army his fate might have been that of thousands of his colleagues - a secretive death at the hands of the Russians.
They are wonderful lectures. If you ever want to persuade someone that reading Proust is worthwhile then give them a copy of this book. It does a brilliant job of exploring the themes in the novels - although I'm only two and a tad volumes into 'In Search of Lost Time' - and making you want to read more.
It's also worth reading to show how art can be a balm even in the worst places. Capski and his colleagues lectured each other on different subjects so they wouldn't be broken by their situation. So, I found myself wondering what it must have been like listening to this man talking about a book that I had never read and that I might never get to read.
Read it if you get the chance. It's mind-expanding and life-affirming. Oddly - and indirectly - it reminded me of 'Man's Search for Meaning' by Victor Frankl. Or, if not reminded, seemed a companion piece to it.
subdue_provide75's review
Wish I had read this closer to having read Proust. Maybe it's time to re-read The Way by Swann's...
pino_sabatelli's review against another edition
4.0
È un libro davvero sorprendente questo di Czapski, che non è possibile valutare Czapskicorrettamente senza considerare il contesto in cui è nato. Se infatti dovessimo giudicarlo come un saggio sulla Recherche, non potremmo esimerci dal sottolinearne lacune e semplificazioni, specie rispetto ad altri testi critici che indagano l’opera proustiana con ben altra profondità e completezza. Ma questo, e l’Autore lo dichiara subito nell’introduzione, non è un saggio, ma “una raccolta di ricordi su un’opera alla quale dovevo molto, e che non ero sicuro di poter rivedere, un giorno”. Perché? Perché questo libro è nato nel 1940 a Grjazovec, in un campo di prigionia siberiano realizzato sulle rovine di un convento.
La recensione completa su http://www.ifioridelpeggio.com/proust-a-grjazovec-di-josef-czapski/
La recensione completa su http://www.ifioridelpeggio.com/proust-a-grjazovec-di-josef-czapski/
kilburnadam's review against another edition
4.0
Józef Czapski was a Polish writer and painter who survived internment in a Soviet labor camp during World War II by organizing and delivering a series of literary and historical lectures to his fellow prisoners. Czapski drew on Marcel Proust's novel, In Search of Lost Time, to offer a temporary escape from the brutality of camp life, exploring themes such as love, solitude, creativity, and time. Despite the danger of being caught, the lectures continued in secret and offered a way for the prisoners to nurture their inner lives and maintain their human dignity. Czapski later published his lectures as Lost Time: Lectures on Proust in a Soviet Prison Camp, which has been widely praised for its moving and eloquent portrayal of life in a Soviet labor camp and its insightful analysis of Proust's work. The book serves as a reminder of the enduring power of literature to provide solace and inspiration in even the most difficult circumstances.
paulataua's review
5.0
Imprisoned in a Soviet camp during the second world war, Polish artist Czapski gave a series of lectures on Proust’s ' In Search of Lost Time ' to his fellow inmates. A beautiful little book that brings Proust to life. I read ‘Swann’s Way’ in my youth and although I quite enjoyed it, I never had the desire to go on to the other six volumes. This book has really motivated me to go back and read it all from the beginning.
_dunno_'s review
După cum spune și titlul, cartea conține o serie de mini-conferințe despre Proust și opera lui, ținute de către Czapski (pictor și scriitor polonez) într-un lagăr sovietic, în 194-1941. Pentru a-și omorî cumva timpul, dar și pentru a nu se tîmpi cu desăvîrșire, prizonierii polonezi din lagărul de concentrare de la Griazowietz încep să își țină unii altora conferințe pe diferite teme: artă, literatură, arhitectură etc., după interesul și priceperea fiecăruia. Czapski, un tip cult, educat și trăit atît în Rusia cît și în Franța, vorbitor de mai multe limbi străine, avînd atunci în jur de 40 de ani, era nu doar foarte versat în artă, dar și în opera proustiană, pe care o citise și răscitise, așa încît era capabil să recite pasaje întregi pe de rost. A ajuns la Paris cu cîțiva ani după moartea lui Proust, dar a ajuns să îi cunoască pe mulți dintre apropiații lui și apucase să citească mult din tot ce se scrisese despre Proust pînă atunci.
Ce impresionează la cărticica asta:
- evident, faptul că există. S-au păstrat din lagăr notițele și diagramele lui Czapski pe care le-a făcut înainte de a ține discursurile (notițele sînt în poloneză, dar conferințele au fost direct în franceză). Ulterior, doi dintre colegii de lagăr au transcris aceste discursuri, pe care Czapski le-a dictat din nou, după notițe.
- în zilele noastre, la 100 de ani de la moartea lui Proust, știm, pentru că s-a scris enorm despre el și munca lui, o mulțime de lucruri, interpretări și puneri în context. Însă în 1940, la nici 20 de ani de la moartea lui, faptul că Czapski reușește să sintetizeze atît de bine munca lui Proust, să îi ofere un foarte larg context cultural (atinge multe aspecte, de la literatură și filozofie, la pictură și muzică) e un lucru remarcabil. Bineînțeles, în lagăr nu a avut acces la nici o carte, așa că tot ce spune e din memorie, și își cere el însuși scuze pentru micile inexactități, care sînt oricum explicate de traducător.
Cartea e o mică bijuterie a rezistenței prin artă, un exemplu perfect al memoriei involuntare pe care Proust însuși a promovat-o intens.
Cred că poate funcționa perfect și ca introducere în opera lui (urăsc să folosesc cuvîntul ăsta cu reminiscențe triste de la orele de română, dar în contextul ăsta mi se pare că se potrivește perfect).
Ce impresionează la cărticica asta:
- evident, faptul că există. S-au păstrat din lagăr notițele și diagramele lui Czapski pe care le-a făcut înainte de a ține discursurile (notițele sînt în poloneză, dar conferințele au fost direct în franceză). Ulterior, doi dintre colegii de lagăr au transcris aceste discursuri, pe care Czapski le-a dictat din nou, după notițe.
- în zilele noastre, la 100 de ani de la moartea lui Proust, știm, pentru că s-a scris enorm despre el și munca lui, o mulțime de lucruri, interpretări și puneri în context. Însă în 1940, la nici 20 de ani de la moartea lui, faptul că Czapski reușește să sintetizeze atît de bine munca lui Proust, să îi ofere un foarte larg context cultural (atinge multe aspecte, de la literatură și filozofie, la pictură și muzică) e un lucru remarcabil. Bineînțeles, în lagăr nu a avut acces la nici o carte, așa că tot ce spune e din memorie, și își cere el însuși scuze pentru micile inexactități, care sînt oricum explicate de traducător.
Cartea e o mică bijuterie a rezistenței prin artă, un exemplu perfect al memoriei involuntare pe care Proust însuși a promovat-o intens.
Cred că poate funcționa perfect și ca introducere în opera lui (urăsc să folosesc cuvîntul ăsta cu reminiscențe triste de la orele de română, dar în contextul ăsta mi se pare că se potrivește perfect).