View high resolution
Reading Room, John Rylands Library, Manchester (via Gary995)
(via teachingliteracy)
Education is not the filling of a bucket, but the lighting of a fire. – W. B. Yeats
FOLLOW my LIKES too; it is a whole DIFFERENT world.
http://www.facebook.com/writewritewriteon
FOLLOW my LIKES too; it is a whole DIFFERENT world.
http://www.facebook.com/writewritewriteon
| sportsnews.be |
-
View high resolution
-
Unfilmable →
excerpted:
The Unfilmables: A List of the Hardest Novels to Film
Remembrance of Things Past
Also known as ‘In Search of Lost Time’ (which makes it sound like a Jules Verne yarn), Marcel Proust’s contribution to the world of literature is so difficult to film as it’s so damn long. The novel is divided into seven books, each one long enough alone! Although I’ve only managed to read the first two books, the entire volume seems to be autobiographical, about a sickly young man who aspires to be a writer, despite the distraction of 19th Century society. Proust’s novels incorporate the idea of scents, sounds, and certain objects pushing associated memories to the fore. Probably more suited as a TV serial, there have been a few films, mostly adapting one of the books. The best is Time Regained, starring Catherine Deneuve and John MalkovichIf anyone can do it: The closing moments of Terence Malick’s New Worlddisplayed the kind of editing that can summarise years in seconds with aesthetic brilliance. He’s the man for such a mammoth, ethereal task, though half of it would probably be shots of trees.
-
A first galley proof of À la recherche du temps perdu: Du côté de chez Swann with Proust’s handwritten corrections.
source: http://library.kiwix.org:4201/A/In_Search_of_Lost_Time.html
-
![excerpted from: http://www.finebooksmagazine.com/bookfair/page3.phtmlUrsus Books981 Madison AvenueNew York, NY 10021(212) 772-8787www.ursusbooks.comProust, Marcel. A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs. Eighteen holograph manuscript fragments, various sizes and shapes, mounted on heavy paper, showing traces of folding, “Cahier violet/No. 11” written in large script in blue ink in upper left corner (“No. 11” written directly over one of the ms. fragments), framed and glazed (frame window 47 x 58 cm). [Paris, before 1918].One of the few remaining groups of manuscript fragments in private hands, and possibly the only one to include substantial unpublished passages, from A la recherche du temps perdu, Proust’s vast and unclassifiable masterpiece, one of the great works of Western literature. The fragments formed part of Proust’s manuscript draft for A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, the second novel in the seven-novel cycle, published in 1918 by the Nouvelle Revue Française. The present fragments were unavailable to the editors of the Bibliothèque de la Pléiade edition (1954), the most painstakingly accurate edition of Proust’s magnum opus, and are substantially unpublished.The vast majority of the surviving manuscripts and galley proofs for Remembrance of Things Past are in the collections of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France and a few other French institutions, the BNF having acquired Proust’s literary archive from Proust’s niece Suzy Mante-Proust in 1962. Only a few papers were separated from the main archive (one such group of corrected galley proofs, for the first volume, Du côté de chez Swann, appeared at auction in 2000, where it fetched a record price for a French literary manuscript). The present manuscript fragments were removed from Proust’s literary possessions in 1919 or 1920, under the following circumstances: The first volume of the work, Du côté de chez Swann, was published in 1913 by Bernard Grasset at Proust’s expense, after it was turned down by various publishers, including—on the advice of André Gide—Gaston Gallimard’s Nouvelle Revue Française (N.R.F.). World War I intervened before Proust was ready to publish the next volume, promised by contract to Grasset. In 1916 a repentant Gide approached Proust proposing that he move to the N.R.F. Thus in 1917 Gallimard acquired the rights to the remainder of the novel cycle and to the approximately 600 unsold copies of Swann’s Way. In 1918 the N.R.F. published the first edition of A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs. Proust continued, in his usual fashion, to revise, and in 1920 the same publishers issued a special, corrected and revised limited edition of this second novel, printed in 50 copies on grand papier, with a frontispiece portrait of Proust, and with the addition to each copy of two to four sheets from the copy-text, a bewildering combination of manuscript fragments and of printed galleys, as described by André Ferré in his preface to the Pléiade edition: “What Proust called his ‘manuscript’ for the Jeunes filles is a strange mosaic in which long autograph fragments alternate with galley proofs, corrected and uncorrected, some from Grasset (1914), others from the N.R.F. [edition]; the whole thing was in any case taken apart in order to ‘truffer’ [extra-illustrate] each of the 50 copies of the folio edition. We were only able to locate approximately one fourth of these copies*” (p. xxvi, our translation; the number was actually considerably less than one fourth, see below).Not surprisingly, given the copy-texts the compositors had to work with, the printing of Proust’s texts was a nightmare, and none of the published editions is entirely accurate. By 1920 Proust was more or less uninvolved in the final proofing of the novel (cf. Pléiade edition, I, p. xxiv), and, notwithstanding their intention to correct the faults of the earlier edition, the often egregious interventions of the N.R.F. editors made the edition as unreliable as its predecessor. The editors of the Pléiade edition were only able to examine 12 of the 100 or so sheets bound into the 1920 edition (see p. 965). The present sheet, entirely manuscript, was not among them.The authors of the Bibliothèque Nationale 1965 exhibition catalogue on Proust remark that Proust’s notebooks are remarkable for being filled with countless small cut-out slips of paper or “paperoles” upon which the author continually scribbled revisions of his text (BN, Marcel Proust, no. 371). Several such “paperoles” are included here, as well as a few longer portions of manuscript pages. The backing on which the fragments are pasted was originally folded several times to fit a quarto volume of the 1920 edition. Designated by the editors no. 11, this sheet was originally preserved in copy number XXVIII of the 1920 edition, along with another group of manuscript fragments and two corrected galley proofs from the same notebook, designated “cahier violet nos. 19, 23, and 24.”The assemblage with its deletions, interlinear additions, and larger insertions on cut-out strips or pieces of paper, vividly displays Proust’s typical working method: “The mass of [his] modifications consist of additions. Proust was singularly careful to preserve his thoughts, and every written fragment was carefully kept … For Marcel Proust, revising signified completing or filling out… Proust inserts his additions as one would insert a wedge into a crack, separating, so to speak, the walls of the paragraph…” (A. Feuillerat, Comment Marcel Proust a composé son roman, 1934, pp. 108-109). The editors of the Pléiade describe the typical appearance of the proofs: “Proust’s additions covered the margins of the proofs, and overflowed onto blank pages, which were pasted onto the galleys and ended up forming endless strips… The printer naturally had more and more trouble making head or tail of these scribbles and inextricable insertions; the errors passed from proof to proof, each time augmented with new errors - until the day when the editor, horrifed by this endless amplification of mistakes, took upon himself the authority to declare the ‘bon à tirer’ “ (p. xxv).Mounted on card, these fragments, originating in several different drafts, additions, and rewritings, constitute a variant on a single passage in the published novel (cf. Volume III, pp. 829-831 of the Pléiade edition, 1954), during the period immediately following the narrator’s first glimpse of the group of girls on the beach in Balbec, and describing the beginnings of his longings to meet them (longings which will eventually narrow to an obsessional love for one of the girls, Albertine). One of the longest unpublished passages, approximately 300 words, is a typically Proustian reflection on desire and the mystery of unknown faces and beings.This is one of the most significant manuscript fragments of Proust’s masterpiece remaining in private hands.Provenance: Jacques Guérin (sale, Paris, 4 June 1986, part lot 108) — Pierre Berès, sale, Paris Part III, 16 December, 2005, lot 386.$125,000](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_li1wm6fXRB1qh8l8yo1_250.jpg)
excerpted from: http://www.finebooksmagazine.com/bookfair/page3.phtml
Ursus Books981 Madison AvenueNew York, NY 10021(212) 772-8787www.ursusbooks.comProust, Marcel. A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs. Eighteen holograph manuscript fragments, various sizes and shapes, mounted on heavy paper, showing traces of folding, “Cahier violet/No. 11” written in large script in blue ink in upper left corner (“No. 11” written directly over one of the ms. fragments), framed and glazed (frame window 47 x 58 cm). [Paris, before 1918].One of the few remaining groups of manuscript fragments in private hands, and possibly the only one to include substantial unpublished passages, from A la recherche du temps perdu, Proust’s vast and unclassifiable masterpiece, one of the great works of Western literature. The fragments formed part of Proust’s manuscript draft for A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, the second novel in the seven-novel cycle, published in 1918 by the Nouvelle Revue Française. The present fragments were unavailable to the editors of the Bibliothèque de la Pléiade edition (1954), the most painstakingly accurate edition of Proust’s magnum opus, and are substantially unpublished.The vast majority of the surviving manuscripts and galley proofs for Remembrance of Things Past are in the collections of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France and a few other French institutions, the BNF having acquired Proust’s literary archive from Proust’s niece Suzy Mante-Proust in 1962. Only a few papers were separated from the main archive (one such group of corrected galley proofs, for the first volume, Du côté de chez Swann, appeared at auction in 2000, where it fetched a record price for a French literary manuscript). The present manuscript fragments were removed from Proust’s literary possessions in 1919 or 1920, under the following circumstances: The first volume of the work, Du côté de chez Swann, was published in 1913 by Bernard Grasset at Proust’s expense, after it was turned down by various publishers, including—on the advice of André Gide—Gaston Gallimard’s Nouvelle Revue Française (N.R.F.). World War I intervened before Proust was ready to publish the next volume, promised by contract to Grasset. In 1916 a repentant Gide approached Proust proposing that he move to the N.R.F. Thus in 1917 Gallimard acquired the rights to the remainder of the novel cycle and to the approximately 600 unsold copies of Swann’s Way. In 1918 the N.R.F. published the first edition of A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs. Proust continued, in his usual fashion, to revise, and in 1920 the same publishers issued a special, corrected and revised limited edition of this second novel, printed in 50 copies on grand papier, with a frontispiece portrait of Proust, and with the addition to each copy of two to four sheets from the copy-text, a bewildering combination of manuscript fragments and of printed galleys, as described by André Ferré in his preface to the Pléiade edition: “What Proust called his ‘manuscript’ for the Jeunes filles is a strange mosaic in which long autograph fragments alternate with galley proofs, corrected and uncorrected, some from Grasset (1914), others from the N.R.F. [edition]; the whole thing was in any case taken apart in order to ‘truffer’ [extra-illustrate] each of the 50 copies of the folio edition. We were only able to locate approximately one fourth of these copies*” (p. xxvi, our translation; the number was actually considerably less than one fourth, see below).Not surprisingly, given the copy-texts the compositors had to work with, the printing of Proust’s texts was a nightmare, and none of the published editions is entirely accurate. By 1920 Proust was more or less uninvolved in the final proofing of the novel (cf. Pléiade edition, I, p. xxiv), and, notwithstanding their intention to correct the faults of the earlier edition, the often egregious interventions of the N.R.F. editors made the edition as unreliable as its predecessor. The editors of the Pléiade edition were only able to examine 12 of the 100 or so sheets bound into the 1920 edition (see p. 965). The present sheet, entirely manuscript, was not among them.The authors of the Bibliothèque Nationale 1965 exhibition catalogue on Proust remark that Proust’s notebooks are remarkable for being filled with countless small cut-out slips of paper or “paperoles” upon which the author continually scribbled revisions of his text (BN, Marcel Proust, no. 371). Several such “paperoles” are included here, as well as a few longer portions of manuscript pages. The backing on which the fragments are pasted was originally folded several times to fit a quarto volume of the 1920 edition. Designated by the editors no. 11, this sheet was originally preserved in copy number XXVIII of the 1920 edition, along with another group of manuscript fragments and two corrected galley proofs from the same notebook, designated “cahier violet nos. 19, 23, and 24.”The assemblage with its deletions, interlinear additions, and larger insertions on cut-out strips or pieces of paper, vividly displays Proust’s typical working method: “The mass of [his] modifications consist of additions. Proust was singularly careful to preserve his thoughts, and every written fragment was carefully kept … For Marcel Proust, revising signified completing or filling out… Proust inserts his additions as one would insert a wedge into a crack, separating, so to speak, the walls of the paragraph…” (A. Feuillerat, Comment Marcel Proust a composé son roman, 1934, pp. 108-109). The editors of the Pléiade describe the typical appearance of the proofs: “Proust’s additions covered the margins of the proofs, and overflowed onto blank pages, which were pasted onto the galleys and ended up forming endless strips… The printer naturally had more and more trouble making head or tail of these scribbles and inextricable insertions; the errors passed from proof to proof, each time augmented with new errors - until the day when the editor, horrifed by this endless amplification of mistakes, took upon himself the authority to declare the ‘bon à tirer’ “ (p. xxv).Mounted on card, these fragments, originating in several different drafts, additions, and rewritings, constitute a variant on a single passage in the published novel (cf. Volume III, pp. 829-831 of the Pléiade edition, 1954), during the period immediately following the narrator’s first glimpse of the group of girls on the beach in Balbec, and describing the beginnings of his longings to meet them (longings which will eventually narrow to an obsessional love for one of the girls, Albertine). One of the longest unpublished passages, approximately 300 words, is a typically Proustian reflection on desire and the mystery of unknown faces and beings.This is one of the most significant manuscript fragments of Proust’s masterpiece remaining in private hands.Provenance: Jacques Guérin (sale, Paris, 4 June 1986, part lot 108) — Pierre Berès, sale, Paris Part III, 16 December, 2005, lot 386.$125,000 -
How Proust Can Change Your Life - Part 6/6
-
How Proust Can Change Your Life - Part 5/6
-
How Proust Can Change Your Life - Part 4/6
Theme: Linear by Peter Vidani
