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The Scent of Varnish (Close Reading of Proust) (Patreon)

Published:
2022-08-06 13:33:01
Imported:
2026-06
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Content

Today we’ve been sent to bed without that goodnight kiss.

Whilst little Marcel scribbles a letter imploring his mother to come upstairs, we’re discussing why smell is the most evocative sense, how our temperament influences the amount of nostalgia we feel, and the medieval French narratives of the chansons de geste.

Timestamps:

  • 0:00 reading like a Romantic
  • 2:45 awaiting the goodnight kiss
  • 8:30 smell as most evocative sense
  • 15:00 how neurotics respond to smells
  • 20:00 the letter to Mamma
  • 22:00 history in the individual
  • 25:40 chanson de geste
  • 32:00 miracle/mystery plays
  • 34:00 unconscious directing life

Questions to ponder:

1) When was the last time a scent unlocked a memory for you? And are you prone to feelings of nostalgia?

2) What direction do you think literature will take in our century? Has the novel been exhausted, or does it still contain untapped potential? 

Happy Prousting, everybody!

Files

Previews only

The Scent of Varnish - Proust's In Search of Lost Time (Pages 24-26)

0:00 reading like a Romantic 2:45 awaiting the goodnight kiss 8:30 smell as most evocative sense 15:00 how neurotics respond to smells 20:00 the letter to Mamma 23:00 history in the individual 26:40 chanson de geste 33:00 miracle/mystery plays 35:00 unconscious directing life

Comments

Florian Pesantes

So happy I was to see that the Proust series has resumed, happier even to have been able to watch the video uninterrupted. Enjoying the sumptuous artwork Ben’s is cosseting us with, the aspects of the pages this lecture was dealing with I’d missed, the one’s I’d picked up on when first I’d read them. And the new associations and thoughts, memories arising through this amalgamation of the original text, how I read it then, how I see it through Ben’s lens, how I read it today, how other memories find their way to the surface after having unveiled forgotten remembrances previously. They seemed so unimportant to me, these childhood impressions but now I see, they aren’t. These seemingly petty dramas of my earlier years now bubbling up: I relish the recollection unashamedly now. Oh wonder: they’re after all a gate to the unconscious, a door opener to the world of dreams and associations. They activate the efficacy of my short, mid and long time memory in my daily life with the hundreds of patients I’m seeing week after week, month after month. They enhance my consciousness, the perception of the world around me delightfully. I had a good giggle at 29:40, when you, Benjamin said that a young boy would ‘be upset if some detail (of a tale) was omitted’. I half in shame half in amusement remembered the terror I must have inflicted on my poor father when I’d forced him to keep an exact night time ritual for months if not years by first telling me a Grimm’s fairy tale, always the same, with exactly the same words - I wouldn’t tolerate the slightest deviation of “The wolf and the seven little kids” - singing to me, with me, the first stanza of an old German hunting song (“A huntsman from Kurpfalz”) thereafter. Earlier in the video, when comparing sleep to death I remembered these lines from “In Memoriam” canto 71: ‘Sleep, kinsman thou to death and trance And madness, thou hast forged at last A night-long Present of the Past…’ Is that connection maybe one of the roots of insomnia? It’s by the way his birthday, so: Happy 213rd return, Lord Alfred! I’ll have some coffee and sardines on toast now in remembrance of Arthur Henry, of yourself and your wonderful, intense and sadly short friendship and love.

Annie

So glad we went back to the Search! I love the moment Marcel wrote his maman, “en la suppliant de monter pour une chose grave” (grave being the word usually associated with maladie/illness or blessure/injury). It’s tender and heartrending, but it also works as a rebellion, a life-affirming stand following the digging-a-tomb-for-the-night analogy (which I’m hoping to forget, or at least… umm… reframe). I also love the idea of smell associations. To this day I remember going to my first party as a teenager and, amid spicy colognes with salty undertones, wondering, “Is this what boys smell like?” And the smell of petrichor that is released by the first rain after a long dry summer—my brain lights up in recognition every time. This is why sometimes I like to use fragrances to encapsulate a memory. It’s something that I can control. I decide which fragrance I want to associate a time of my life with, and then wear that exclusively, to secure the connection in my brain and the way back to that moment, like Ariadne’s thread. For instance, I wore only Eau de Fleurs de Cédrat on purpose when our son was very little, to crystalize the emotions of those early days, so that when I feel especially nostalgic, I can travel back to that time for a few minutes with a touch of the loveliest lemony heaven.

Thomas Rike

I am thrilled to see us return to Proust again Thank you for your ever insightful remarks and guiding us to the many rabbit holes that every page contains. Slow, deliberate, reading of each page, each paragraph, each sentence, even each word can be so rewarding, as you have shown. Leaving the text, reflecting, reading other works, and coming back again with a more informed mind as you have recommended certainly resonates with me. I have used that technique for years with Finnegans Wake and want to use it in my rereading of the Search. I liked the connection you made between Françoise as a representation of French history and Joyce's milk woman and Shan Van Vogt, the personification of Mother Ireland. I will start taking notes again as I restart my reading of the opening pages on page 24.

hardcoreliterature
>>89100678

Thank you, Florian. I’m so happy you enjoyed it so much. I thoroughly enjoyed putting this one together, and we already have another out very soon! It really is interesting to cast our thoughts back to our childhood and note the little things that took on the quality of grand dramas, isn’t it? Learning the importance that the sense of smell plays in our formative years has really stuck with me. In the notoriously difficult third episode of Joyce’s Ulysses, Stephen closes his eyes, cutting off the primary sense of sight, and trying to connect with the world aurally - but can you imagine if we cut all sense off except smell? What worlds would await us? The fact that the smells one encounters in childhood are locked in with memories and emotions for life is quite frightening when I think about it. Perhaps history is a nightmare from which we cannot awake… But, ironically, becoming cognisant of these dormant impressions is, in a sense, a waking up. Making the unconscious conscious, as Jung might say, and taking control of our fate.. And your lovely father making sure to remain faithful to the details of Young Florian’s favourite Brothers Grimm story has given me a very big smile!

hardcoreliterature
>>89125771

Thank you, Thomas! I really appreciate that. I feel as though Joyce and Proust are the two endless writers of the twentieth century. One will spend their whole life reading Finnegans Wake, Ulysses, and In Search of Lost Time and will always have new pleasures and insights to uncover. It’s magical really :)

Susan

I have been waiting patiently for you to do a video for the Proust series. I am so glad we are back on it again. A little remark about the sense of smell. Myself and my husband was sitting just the other night just chatting and catching up with how our day went, and all of a sudden there was a strong smell of a sweet floral perfume. It gave me goosebumps as it was the perfume my Nan used to wear, and she passed away back in 2000. As soon as the smell was here, it vanished not long after. My husband and I both looked at each other and both said at the same time “Nans here”. It was very strange. Thank you for another great video : )

hardcoreliterature
>>89330212

I’m so happy you enjoyed it, Susan! I was excited to return to Proust too. So much so, I already have our next one in the editing stage. Your story gave me goosebumps just reading about it. That’s incredible that you and your husband both picked up on it and are both on the same wavelength. I’ve had a few things remind me vividly of my Nan too recently, and it felt like the universe giving me a little opportunity to spend some time with her again in my mind.

Bill Markland

I must admit that I was skeptical about reading Proust would generate memories of childhood; however, it is definitely happening to me. As I was reading about the scent of past memories, a smell and image of me as a 5 year old (65 years ago) being asked to pay the milkman, I opened the door with my face at the same level as the milkman's money pouch. The smell of old leather mingled with the greasy much handled coins being exchanged was something I have never thought of before - amazing. Also just found a wonderful French movie on Amazon (US) called Time Regained which is based on the last part of the novel set, with recalls to the earlier books. I do not feel itwould be a spoiler - but decide for yourself. Additionally, for me since there are no descriptions of the characters, the film gives visual context as I read.

hardcoreliterature
>>92084103

That's remarkable, Bill! I would have been skeptical too had someone told me before reading. But, without fail, Proust seems to be the author who can reawaken/unlock old memories more than any other writer. Your memory of the milkman's money pouch is extraordinary - so vivid! It definitely sounds like a detail one would find in the Search.

Terry

I’m new here and so happy to have found you. I’ve been reading Proust, very slowly, for years and am currently reading Vol. 4, Sodom and Gomorrah, part two, chapter 2. I must say that 1. It’s wonderful to share this with others to whom it might matter, and 2, volume 1 was the most satisfying for me. Much of what I’ve read has not stayed with me but the experience of reading Proust in the moment is remarkable. There’s another book like that for me, The Poetics of Space, by Gaston Bachelard. While reading it I have beautiful recollections of places.