🖋️ “It was around the same time, whilst on holiday in Cabourg 🌤️, that I met a man whose strangeness…

🖋️ “It was around the same time, whilst on holiday in Cabourg 🌤️, that I met a man whose peculiarity drew me in, and I wanted, as was my custom, to get to know him. One of my friends, who was older than me, introduced me to this man, who would sometimes stroll through the casino’s halls in the evening. His name was Marcel Proust. (…) 👨🏻

Marcel Proust never ceases to amaze me. At around six o’clock in the evening, as the sun set 🌅, a rattan armchair would be brought out onto the terrace of the Grand Hôtel in Cabourg. For a few minutes, the armchair would remain empty. The ‘staff’ would wait. Then Marcel Proust would approach slowly, a parasol 🌂 in his hand. Standing on the threshold of the glass door, he would watch for nightfall. As they passed by his armchair, the bellboys 🤵🏻‍♂️ would communicate by sign, like the deaf and dumb. Then Proust’s friends would approach. They would begin by talking about the weather and the temperature. At that time — it was 1913 — Marcel Proust feared, or seemed to fear, the sun ⛱️. But it was noise, above all, that he detested. 🫨

All the hotel guests said that Mr Proust had booked five rooms at top rates. 💸 One to live in, and the other four to ‘lock away’ the silence. 🤐

Whenever, fascinated, I approached him to look at him, he would speak to me because he had learnt that I was the son of one of his young, blossoming daughters. 🌺 He often told me about a dance class 👯‍♀️ that was held in a flat on Rue de Ville-l’Évêque.

— That’s where I met your mum, your aunt – her name was Louise, wasn’t it? I can still picture her eyes – the only ones you could really call violet. 👀☔️

He spoke at length about his youth, coincidences, encounters and regrets. His smile was youthful, his eyes deep, his gaze weary, his movements slow. Of course, I had no idea he was a writer. He never spoke of his work. Yet it was during that period that he was writing “In Search of Lost Time”. 📚🕰️🛌

— Philippe Soupault, “Profils perdus”, 1963
@editionsfolio pp. 38–39

#MarcelProust #PhilippeSoupault #Balbec #Cabourg #PortraitSouvenir #RTP #ÀlOmbredesJeunesFillesenFleurs #proustagram