“The past is hidden somewhere outside the
realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object (in the sensation
which that material object will give us) of which we have no inkling. And it
depends on chance whether or not we come upon this object before we ourselves
must die."
– Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past
“We
know that in his work Proust did not describe a life as it actually was, but a
life as it was remembered by the one who had lived it… For the important thing
for the remembering author is not what he experienced, but the weaving of his
memory... an
experienced event is finite, – at any rate, confined to one sphere of
experience; a remembered event is infinite, because it is only a key to
everything that happened before it and after it"
– Walter Benjamin, The Image of Proust
Man Ray, Marcel Proust on His Deathbed, 1922.
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