Rash On Back Looks Like Scratches

EL ESCÁNDALO LEMOINE DE MARCEL PROUST

Scandal
Lemoine Marcel Proust Translated by Laura Naranjo
and Carmen Torres
Attic Books, 2010 106 pp

EUR 9.90

Marcel Proust, before reaching the top of In Search of Lost Time , wrote this small little book of just over a hundred pages that accurately Attic dusting the books in his collection called Short's Penthouse. Scandal Lemoine is in itself a little rhetorical exercise, a test or essay test metaliterary. If I may, is an entertainment as a styling exercise, the exercise of narrative possibilities, just looking for voices and forms. Something like what we intended to Raymond Queneau Exercises in style .

Argument the book is almost a MacGuffin, a narrative excuse to develop one or more frames. And the plot itself is fairly short and has its origin in the real case of a chemist, Henri Lemoine, who offered the largest diamond company, De Beers, the formula to create chemically, which was clearly a scam. Scam that came to fall and lose money Proust resigned himself used the story to develop the plot of his book, Lemoine scandal. The argument itself is rather poor if not for the approach developed and Proust himself that makes him a genius. Why not tell the story from the style of some large French writers? So just imitating Flaubert Proust, Balzac, Saint-Simon. But the irony does not end there. The parody goes further and also allowed the luxury to get into the skin of critical and self-criticism. Or raise it like a soap opera or an episode of the Goncourt journals. Almost all narrative forms are developed and put in the position costs that the same simple and concise story can be told many different ways.

The clever reader can dive and try to discover some hidden gems and notes that humor is not without this little gem of Proust, one of those unknown works not be published in this format would the general public.

strongly advise you to find the kits and snares to which we subjected the genius of Proust. And to show on pages 41 and 42, is a critical de Goncourt to Proust's attitude in relation to Zola. Knowing that the text directs Proust himself. Or maybe not? I'm afraid this is a small literary pitorreo the French literary scholars can get more juice. And the reader too.