Showing posts with label proust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label proust. Show all posts

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Proustian Retrospection leads to interesting Introspection

My inevitable frequent visits to my native land are resulting in a proustian retrospection that is consequentially deciphering my present through a long forgotten past. The Madeleine that awakened many reminiscences from Proust's childhood had no effect on mine when savored in Paris, however, many of my mom's recipes and family reunions bring back to memory traces from the recycle-bin of oblivion. Toe-curling home-made recipes, that I have missed for a decade, are latently associated with afternoon naps and dreams that are followed by family reunions and discussions over coffee. Deja-vus take me back to a tough childhood that survived many years and tears of civil war. It must have been impossible to forget the war without suppressing related memories from my childhood. Therefore, I can hardly recall anything from when I had less than 12-15 years old. I almost feel that I never existed before I was 12. I must have been born or reborn at 12 give or take. A huge bokeh of my childhood is barely the picture I have thanks to old family photo albums and stories from the past. Hence, I wonder: Does my putative nonexistence explain my life at such an astounding pace as some kind of compensation? If so, when will I settle down or give in to a relatively normal pace?

Retrospective Glance

Sunday, February 6, 2011

A la recherche des mots perdus

Il n'y a pas longtemps, je parlais francais et je me debrouillais pas mal. J'assistais dans un forum des langues pour paufiner mon francais, je m'occuper d'une table francaise dans une universitee ameriquaine, et en plus, je pensais en francais, et donc, dans un sens selon Decartes, j'existais en francais.

Desormais, la plupart des mots m'echape, et les seules fideles, je n'arrive point a les ecrire correctement, donc on peut dire que tout les mots francophones me trahissent mais aux niveaux differentes, soit orthographe, soit expressive. Pire, c'est la vanite pour laquelle j'ecris, et pour laquelle je m'echine a appredre des langues et les perfectionner pour ecrire. Quelle drole d'idee, je m'ammuse enorment a l'articuler!

Par consequant, la recherche des mots perdus, ne changera et ne servira a rien, comme la recherche du temps perdu selon Proust mais non pas a mon avis. puisque son oeuvre au moin a changeait ma vie meme si minimalement et indirecetement a travers "How can Proust Change your Life" par Alain de Botton.

Malgre mon doctorat en informatique et surtout en anglais, j'arrivais parfois a papoter en francais mais avec l'invasion artistique des derniers minutes libres de ma vie, je n'arrive plus a me servir du francais. Peut-etre je m'installerai un jour en france et si j'y serai lontemps peut-etre je me naturaliserai et la recherche des mots perdus sera toute une autre histoir transparente a moi et a vous aussi.