A review by dukegregory
In Search of Lost Time: Sodom and Gomorrah by Marcel Proust

2.0

Most of this is entirely pompous and vapid. Obviously, the writing is beautiful but to no end that differs from what the other three-thousand pages have done. The first part and the section entitled "The Intermittencies of the Heart" are playful and funny or breathtakingly beautiful reflections on grief and nostalgia and the ways in which we all perpetually live in a state of cognitive dissonance when going back to places we have been or even attempt to process the loss of a loved one. I really hope the next volume/s pick up where volume three did (aka at the height of Proust's powers). Genuinely, nothing happens. Nothing is happening for seven-hundred plus pages!!! Awful. Boring. Pretty though.