MARCEL PROUST - IN SEARCH OF LOST TIME
By: Fereshteh Priou
December 2016
Proust frequently reflects on the power of objects in his writing. For him, an “object” is not limited to material possessions such as a painting or a family heirloom. It can also be something broader or more abstract: a city, a church, a musical phrase, a name, or even an idea. What these objects share is their ability to trigger involuntary memory. The madeleine, the view of the Saint-Hilaire church in Combray, and Vinteuil’s musical phrase are classic examples. In the final volume, Time Regained, the narrator comes across a children’s book his mother once read to him. Suddenly, a flood of long-forgotten images rushes back. He wonders whether it is the red leather binding or the words inside that awaken these memories. The boundary between the material and the immaterial dissolves, revealing the profound hold objects can have on our subconscious.
Proust portrays objects as either comforting (when familiar) or unsettling (when unfamiliar). Readers vividly remember the young narrator’s terror of the magic lantern in Swann’s Way. Placed over his lamp on certain evenings, it projects shifting colored images and shadows across the walls, turning his bedroom into a place of anxiety and wonder. Similarly, during his first night at the hotel in Balbec, the narrator lies awake, disturbed by the unfamiliar clock, curtains, and furniture. With time and habit, these objects lose their threatening quality and fade into the background of everyday life.
Proust also explores our deep emotional attachment to belongings and the comfort they provide. The Verdurins, for instance, bring their own furniture and paintings to a fully furnished summer rental so they can recreate the familiar atmosphere of their Paris home. This urge is universal. Babies cling to security blankets, children resist sharing toys, and adults continue to derive comfort and identity from the things they own.
Beyond comfort, objects serve as tools for self-presentation. The Duchesse de Guermantes keeps paintings by the then-unknown artist Elstir in an obscure room. Once he becomes famous, she prominently displays them in her drawing room. We often believe our possessions define us and signal our social status. An expensive car, designer handbag, or rare artwork becomes a way to impress others and affirm our place in society.
Most powerfully, objects act as vessels of memory. Proust suggests that objects retain something of the gaze that once rested upon them. We treasure certain items not for their intrinsic value but for the memories they carry — the person who gave them to us, the moment or place where we acquired them, or the emotions they evoke. A family heirloom connects us to generations past, while a newly purchased object may forever recall the excitement of discovery.
This connection gives objects a powerful hold over us. We often fail to appreciate them until they are lost. A broken vase or misplaced piece of jewelry can suddenly trigger genuine mourning. Proust notes that we acquire objects with careful attention, only for habit to make them invisible — until loss restores their significance. After disasters such as fires or floods, survivors often wander through the ruins like ghosts, grieving not just possessions but the memories attached to them.
Ownership itself is a curious phenomenon. While objects can enrich our lives, they can also become burdens. Hoarders, for example, become possessed by their possessions, unable to part with even worthless items. In such cases, one begins to wonder whether the person owns the objects, or the objects own the person.
Ultimately, accepting that our belongings will outlast us forces us to confront our own mortality. We accumulate things as if we will live forever, yet when we die, those objects lose their meaning until they find new owners who will infuse them with fresh memories and stories.
Marcel Proust left behind the ultimate object: his own monumental book. A creation that continues to live independently, bringing pleasure and insight to generations of readers, untouched by the dulling force of habit.
Article by: Fereshteh Priou - December 2016