Went into She Said Boom today, and chuckled (a bit melancholily, to be honest) to see my own books gracing their bookshelves, product of my recent purge. Noticed a bookmark sticking out of Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. Couldn't remember if it was volume 1 or volume 2 i had sold, both are books I enjoyed reading BUT NEVER WILL AGAIN let's face it.
Anyhow. Knowing I have left many a bookmark loitering between the dustcovers, with small quips and comments on them, I reached for volume 1 where said bookmark was lurking to see. Well. It was volume 2 I guess I had unhanded, this volume 1 belonged to someone else, also with the same careless habit of abandoning bookmarks.
But, like me, said previous owner had obviously gotten tired of reading Proust with a dictionary constantly at the ready, and had taken to writing unknown words on his/her bookmarks, to look up later. I pondered a moment, tearily almost, at the length of time it took me to investigate all these gaps in my vocabulary. Bookmark after bookmark I went through those books with, covered in 20 letter words, thanks to Proust (and his translator no doubt) having Far too much time on his hands in a sickbed.
But at the time and onwards, i thought I was the only one neurotically determined enough to not have one unknown word slip by me. So yay, mysterious reader, yay to You. And yay to you for finally deciding that yes, Proust has had his time, and now he must to the second hand bookshop to grace yet another aspiring genius with his lengthy and most wordy nostalgia.