Jessie Nace

In Search of Lost Time

April 25, 2015

Close Reading: Within a Budding Grove page. 604-606

Week 5

“It was along this train of thought silently ruminated over by Elstir’s side as I accompanied him to his door, that I was being led by the discovery that I had Just made of the identity of his model, when this first discovery caused me to make a second, more disturbing still, concerning the identity of the artist”.  He had painted the portrait of Odette de Crecy. Could it be possibly that this man of genius, this sage, this recluse, this philosopher with his marvelous flow of conversation, who towered over everyone and everything, was the ridiculous depraved painter who had at one time been adopted by the Verduins? I asked him if he had known them, and whether by any chance it was he that they used to call M. Biche. He answered me in the affirmative, with no trace of embarrassment, as if my question referred to a period in his life that was already somewhat remote and he had no suspicion of the extraordinary disillusionment he was causing me. But looking up, he read it on my face. His own assumed an expression of annoyance. And, as we were now almost to the gate of his house, a man of less distinction of heart and mind might simply have said good-bye to me a trifle dryly and taken care to avoid seeing me again.  This however was not Elstir’s way with me; like the master that he was-and it was, perhaps, from the point of view of pure creativity, his one fault that he was a master in that sense of the word, for an artist, if he alone, and not squander his ego, even upon disciples-from every circumstance, whether involving himself or other people, he sought to extract, for the better edification of the young, the element of truth that it contained. He chose therefore, instead of the words that might have avenged the injury to his pride, those that could prove instructive to me”.   Pg. 604-605

The narrator has figured out that Elstir is the painter from the Verduins, the painter who Swann had at one point not to anyone but to himself, in one of his many long mental arguments that he had with himself about his love for Odette and also her virtue. He had accused Odette of sleeping with.  The narrator who had only been told stories of the painter, and we can assume from his astonished reaction that these stories were not positive. What the narrator is also surprised about is how Elstir reacts to his recognition of him. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed Elstir embraces his past, he sees the contempt and judgment on the narrators face and instead of being angry he is just mildly annoyed, and doesn’t send him away, he chooses to eloquently explain what his past is for him.

“There is not man,” he began, “however wise who has not at some period of his youth said things, or lived a life, the memory of which is so unpleasant to him that he would gladly expunge it. And yet he ought not entirely to regret it, because he cannot be certain that he has indeed become a wise man-so far as it is possible for any of to be wise-unless he has passed through all the fatuous or unwholesome incarnation by which that ultimate stage must be preceded. I know that there are young people, the sons and grandsons of distinguished men, whose master have instilled in them the nobility of mind and moral refinement from their schooldays. They may perhaps have nothing to retract from their past lives; they could publish a signed account of everything they have ever said or done; but they are poor creatures, feeble descendant of doctrinaires, and their wisdom is negative and sterile. We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world. The lives that you admire, the attitudes that seem noble to you , have not been shaped by a paterfamilias or a schoolmaster, they have been sprung from very different beginning, having been influenced by everything evil or commonplace that prevailed round about them. They represent a struggle and a victory. I can see that the picture of what we were at an earlier stage may not be recognisable and cannot, certainly, be pleasing to contemplate in later life. But we must not repudiate it, for it is a proof that we have really lived, that it is in accordance with the laws of life and of the mind that we have, from the common elements of life, of the life of studio, of artistic groups-assuming one painter-extracted something that transcends them”.  Pg. 605-606

Elstir explains to the narrator that while his past is questionable, it made him who he is. The choices of all men are shaped not by just their upbringing but by their experiences. Elstir is saying that even the best men who are raised right, by society’s standards, make choices in their youth that can be distasteful.  Once made, one must learn from them and move on and use these choices as life lessons. I also believe that Elstir is helping the narrator see that as an artist he was able to use all of his experiences in his youth to be a better painter. To find yourself and who you are is a journey you cannot learn in a classroom, or by your parents, the path is for you alone. How you use the wisdom you gain will define the person you become.