Proust, A Budding Grove:

“Momentarily eclipsed, my past no longer projected before me that shadow of itself which we call our future; placing the goal of my life no longer in the realization of the dreams of the past, but in the felicity of the present moment, I could see no further than it” (p. 539).

This passage is in the midst of a couple pages of musings of our narrator on the state of being inebriated.  He speaks on the fact that when he is in this state, he exists in the present moment.  This is in sharp contrast to who he is the rest of the time, which the reader sees illustrated is that of someone who is fixated on past events.  Even girls whom he passes in the train, as he’s witnessing them in the present, are quickly flown back to the past as he rushes past their faces.

This passage also reminds me of the wisdom told to me by an old voice lesson teacher.  She gave the metaphor of life being a book.  The person is on whatever page, and everything before that is the past and is filled in.  Everything in front of that page is the future and is blank.  But, not knowing what is to be filled in there, and knowing what has come before, the person unknowingly makes the mistake of transposing the past onto the future.  Copying and pasting.  The narrator seems to be making the same mistake, stating, “my past no longer projected before me that shadow of itself which we call our future.”  Behavioral and thought patterns may be built upon our experiences thus far, but that does not mean that they need create our future.  What has happened up to this page will have an influence, as it is one book, but to repeat the same happenings again would be unnecessary and redundant.

This moment and many others in this novel remind me of an oracle card named “Ghostlands.”  This card is a warning against nostalgia and longing.  It is about the fact that the future is groundless, that is has no solid substance, and that the past may be nice to remember but that it’s gone forever.  Neither one is livable.  By living there one loses his footing in the present, which is the best place that he can be.  This seems to be especially missed by M.  He is stuck in daydreams about what may someday be, which rarely matches up with reality (think Mme.Guermante).  He is also stuck in his memories (think this whole book).  While he is intoxicated he is somehow able to break out of this fantasy world, describing this rare experience of the present as felicitous. This feeling of intense happiness is in direct contrast to the grieving, insecure, sadness that seems to permeate the rest of his existence (which is in past/future).  On the ride home he urges his driver to travel quickly, not yet willing to slide back into his normal operating function of living entirely out of the moment.  How much would things change for M. if he was able to bring this presentness of his intoxication into his everyday reality? I expect that the blank part of his book would start to look differently that the already written sections.  I think that the writing would also be less repetitive and perhaps M. less obsessive.  But would we even have a book then?