Telescope

THE CAPTIVE*--Marcel Proust--translated by Scott Moncrieff--A. & C. Boni ($3).

Although he died seven years ago (November 1922), Author Proust's seven-part novel Remembrance of Things Past has not yet been completely published in English. Of that super-novel, The Captive is Part Five, a novel in itself. Published currently, its story is as follows:

Albertine has blue, almond-shaped eyes and her black hair ripples. Jealous of her girl friends, unable to do without her in her absence yet often feeling bored in her presence, the "I" of the story takes Albertine to live with him in his house. There he discovers that "love ... is what we feel for a person whose actions seem rather to arouse our jealousy." If Albertine arouses her "darling Marcel's" jealousy, it is through small fault of her own, for she most industriously lies to the exhaustive questionnaire he conducts whenever she comes home of an evening. By ingenious analyses he often comes very close to truth about her daily doings. One afternoon she goes to the Trocadero Theatre to see a certain Lea perform. Remembering the Sapphic reputation this actress has, Marcel recalls his Albertine from the matinee. That night, Albertine having been anxious to attend a party at the Verdurins', Marcel goes instead, seeking the cause of the attraction, which develops to be one Mile. Vinteuil, a guest expected there. Follows a detailed description of the evening and those who attend. When he returns, Marcel's captive reveals to him her Sapphic desires by a half-spoken street-word, and flees the male whose love torments her.

Author Proust has been called a human microscope. He called himself a human telescope, prying into people's hidden motives for general psychological laws. Also he is notable as a writer of varied but disconcerting style, due to the extreme length of some of his sentences. To enjoy Proust is to be impressively bookish. Accordingly, Proust is a favorite among poseurs as well as purists.

In his bed, Hypochondriac Proust used to wear a long nightgown, sweaters, mufflers, stockings, gloves, a nightcap. He lived on the Boulevard Haussmann in Paris, in a cork-lined attic room. His curtains were drawn against the tree-dust he found obnoxious. The smell of perfumes, flowers, steam heat, oppressed him unbearably. Only at 3 a.m., when breathing was easiest for his asthma, would he venture into the street. In a drawing-room he would not doff his fur-lined coat. Once someone entered his house from several flights below, leaving the street-door ajar. Quavered Proust: "Shut that door!"--and died. Author Proust, woman-reared, was olive-skinned, black-haired, heavy-eyed, slender.

*Not to be confused with The Captive, Edouard Bourdet's play about a similar type of woman.