This was a pretty solid continuation of the story laid out in Swann’s Way, taking us through the narrator’s adolescence. I’m not a huge fan of teenage years in general, but to be fair the narrator never really feels young, his point of view is never condescending even though he’s recalling an age in which he was a lot more naïve. In the meantime, this is a great time to discover one’s attitudes, and we see that through his friendships with the writer and the artist, and of course his growing fascination with girls.

This book is split into two very distinct parts, one in Paris, dominated by Madame Swann and Gilberte, and the other in Normandy, with the group of girls and the narrator’s relatives filling his days. In a way, the settings themselves are nothing special. What shines through is the introspection that the external events and surroundings bring about. 

I can’t say that anything in particular stood out to me, it’s a very choral novel that is great in its entirety, rather than as the sum of its parts. I suppose the narrator’s game with Gilberte, his longing for her while also trying to keep his distance, only for his ultimate resolve for reconciliation to be shattered unexpectedly, was a high point. But generally, as I said for Swann’s Way, what I enjoy is the deep exploration of the male mind. Proust is a but of a romantic, sure, but even if this is not your average boy’s inner dialogue, I find it extremely alluring and dreamy. Still expect more from the later parts though, I want to see him as a fully realised man at last.