March 08, 2013

Forget Swann, remember the Madeleines.




Perhaps one of the most delicious reading passages can be found in Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way.  His remembrance of eating a Madeleine. A glimpse of a pleasure he can't identify. 

…“I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure invaded my senses”…






“Tea and Madeleine” & “Aunt Leonie's Sofa” by David Richardson



But Messieurs Proust and Swann not only found their pleasures in eating Madeleines. For the French had a bit of well established joy that was wedged between the responsibilities of work and the duties of family called five-to-seven (le cinq á sept). A little bit of lost time in the early evening hours.  Alas, that bit of five-to-seven frivolity was severely shattered when a character in Françoise Sagan's 1967 novel La Chamade sighed-

“…In Paris, no one makes love in the evening any more; everyone is too tired…”

According to La Sagan it all had changed. Tant pis.


That little bit of pleasure should be revived.  I'm not advocating anything untoward-as you read everyone is too tired-but I wonder if five-to-seven could be reinstated to mean a bit of stolen time.  

How much more agreeable you might be if you inserted a little five-to-seven into your day?  

Switching off, as far as the I-(know everything) phone knows, you could be lost in a dead zone.  Perhaps a drink, or tea and Madeleines, and the company of an interesting friend? Don't take friend as a euphemism five-to-seven is most fun if the agenda is uncomplicated.  

Of course every secret pleasure is heightened if it has a taste of the forbidden so it gives me great joy to know that the I-(know everything) phone thinks I’m stuck in a dreaded mobile dead zone...when all along I’ll be roaming blissfully and having un doux petit rêveur

À bientôt.





7 comments:

  1. When Marcel Proust dipped his madeleine into a cup of tea, a work of literature emerged. When I dip my madeleine into a cup of tea a soggy mess emerges. Just shows you how food and memory are linked.
    Love the post and the images;-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. “Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” ~Marcel Proust

    ReplyDelete
  3. The new hours for love in the afternoon are 2 to 4...so I been told ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mais je viens de me marier, alors qui sait ce qui va se passer dans vingt ans.

    Love the post!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Tante Leonie … rest in peace; bakers rule the world.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Post and images, delightful.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Alistair (from the land of Calvin, sulphur and butanol)9.3.13

    Fine post, and link. Can’t wait for the book!

    ReplyDelete