By | Jennifer Van Bergen "JVB" (Florida) |
I found Proust immeasurably easy and pleasant to read. The long sentences are almost musical and facilitate rather than impede understanding of Proust's deep insights.
Further, despite Proust's own unhappiness, I have never been happier reading a book. Nor have I ever felt so "let into" a person's life as I did reading him.
But, as important as my joy in reading Proust was the fact that it was Proust's masterpiece -- and most especially the last volume (Past Recaptured, by the old title) and particularly Chapter 3 of that volume -- that confirmed much of what I already secretly and silently knew and had begun developing into a method for finding one's own already-existing characters inside oneself, which I had already started teaching and continued to teach for twenty years (first in my own business and then at the New School University in NYC) and finally developed into my book Archetypes for Writers: Using the Power of Your Subconscious.
Proust's value for me was not in his exquisitely minute and drawn-out descriptions of drinking tea or misstepping on a cobblestone (which both triggered the reliving of lost moments for Proust). It is a misunderstanding of Proust to think that that is all he is about. (There was, in fact, an entire acting method developed out of this view (called "method acting").)
Rather, I found Proust's understanding of character valuable. He knew the power of juxtaposition -- which he called "mental gymnastics" and "the miracle of analogy."
I found his articulation of the "extra-temporal being" or "the man freed from the order of time" valuable -- that which I have called to my students: the "author self," the self that knows the whole story of all one's characters: the beginning, the middle, the end -- without having to wait for anything to happen -- a knowledge that almost presupposes the non-existence of time, in an Einsteinian sense -- and something which I have found is naturally developed through the use of the skill I called "arkhelogy" or "doing archetypes."
The habit or skill of "being in the moment" -- something that is a primary skill enumerated in my book -- is also something of what Proust reveals (he calls it a "minute freed from the order of time")
Proust practiced suspending moments in his mind in order to reclaim his past, but it is also a central skill possessed by all great novelists -- for, how do you experience the life of another if you do not grasp and suspend in your own mind the moments in which that person lives and breathes?
And this brings me to another concept that Proust knew and realized in his work (but did not express in the way I do), which was something I had learned from my years in the theater: analogy. Proust talked about analogy in the context of the juxtaposition of two moments. But analogy is also about making analogies between oneself and others (something which Proust called "substitutions"). In other words, finding how to "relate" to another, how to feel what the other feels. This, of course, is a human ability, but it is also a skill that can and should be encouraged and practiced. Proust achieved this level of understanding of his fellow humans to a high degree.
Finally, there is Proust's recognition that "in fashioning a work of art we are by no means free, that we do not choose how we shall make it but that it is pre-existent to us and therefore we are obliged, since it is both necessary and hidden, to do what we should have to do if it were a law of nature, that is to say to discover it." Similarly, one of the main premises in my book is that one's character's and their stories already exist and that one needs only to learn how to find them -- which is, of course, what all the rest of Proust's novel is about (and my exercises teach one to do).
I owe a great debt to Proust. Apart from my sense of love for his language, his words, his phrases, not to mention his insights into people and events, Proust was for me the major impetus behind the development of both the book "Archetypes for Writers" and the course out of which the book grew.