Word: proust
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Scattered through these pages are gleanings from many a bottom drawer: an early nature essay by Proust, a radio play by Brendan Behan (both in Evergreen), in which he continues to re-Joyce, a shrewdly funny story by Israel's Isaac Babel (Noble Savage...
Comic Ghoul. Max Beerbohm remains the master among the parodists, although men of greater genius (e.g., Proust, who makes an appearance in French spoofing Balzac, and William Faulkner, in a rare item, parodying himself) have worked in this deceptive motley. Why the passion for parody among writers? Macdonald finds parody inherent in a mature culture; it is a way of digesting the past. Parody obviously demands that the original parodied should be well known to the reader, and this calls for a firmly held common culture. It persists today among the British as a form of "upper-class folk...
...that is new is not his message but his fictional mode. The realistic novel is gradually going bankrupt. It has mapped out the geography of the environment from battlefront to suburban home front from Main Street to Madison Avenue. And the inner man has been heavily depth-probed by Proust, Joyce & Co. Novelist Kaye's book suggests that the novel of the future may take the path of myth and mystery, allegory and fable. For too long, the true has been confused with the real or the merely realistic. In its deceptively unpretentious way, Kaye's book...
Casanova's Chinese Restaurant, by Anthony Powell. Installment No. 5 of The Music of Time, a seriocomedy of Britain between the two World Wars, which combines the antic savagery of Waugh with the social savvy of Proust...
...kill. But he retains other advantages: he does not fake, he does not invade bedrooms or invite others into his own; he is an artist of the public event. Powell seems to be giving an account of events that are still current, of living while he writes-unlike Proust in his cork-lined room, who evoked things past in order to live again when life itself was done and over with. Powell has not yet created one of the mountains of literature, but his molehills, for those with the leisure to watch, can be quite as interesting as the moles...