A Proustian Goodbye

I just came out of the Marcel Proust exhibition, The Fabric of the Work. What does this have to do with hiking? Well, during the PCT, I listened to the entire “In Search of Lost Time” serie in audiobook form, which I highly recommend. Wandering through the exhibition, as I reread passages of the book, I was amazed at how precisely certain phrases had intertwined themselves in my mind with specific landscapes and moments. Can one dream of a more Proustian experience? The beginning of the first book while departing Echo Lake, the loves of Swan while descending a steep valley, I cried at the death of the grandmother while filtering water from a source, laughed at the anger of Charlus while eating a kouignamann (whose label specified pronounce Queen-Aman) after leaving Etna, the episode of the fan of the Queen of Naples while gorging on blueberries.

The most magical and sad moment remains the end of Time Regained, Proust’s last book: I had saved it to finish on the day of my arrival in Canada, but when that plan fell through and I went back to walk in Oregon, I finally resigned myself and started the last listening. Like when I had started the first book, I was alone again, far from my friends, and I had to accept that my triumphant march was coming to an end, that for me too the time of innocent pleasures was over. The sun was setting, the temperatures had already cooled.

A definite impression of autumn growingn everyday. I wanted to reach the summit, where it seemed that a wonderful bivouac spot was possible. In my ears, the last words resounded, and I stopped to see the sun illuminating the peaks in front of me.

Everything wasover, but I didn’t know it yet. A part of my book also closed at the same time as that long and complex story, an adventure full of tomorrows. I always knew the walk would end one day, but that deadline was far off, the path infinite. Everything was leaving me me, but for one more moment, I was where I needed to be, alone, lost in a mountain. Proust helped me to endure the daily pain of my shoulder, he moved me, annoyed me, and made me laugh out loud when I was alone and homesick.

In his own way, he too is now telling me that it's time to go home.