I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant’s way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in.
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Laura Esther Wolfson
I was excited to find a kindred spirit in Laura Esther Wolfson [“Proust at Rush Hour,” March 2009]. In my twenties I, too, read all of Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past while commuting via train. Like Wolfson I recall rereading sections to refresh my memory. I think Proust is best appreciated this way.
I doubt I would ever have gotten through this and many other classics without the escape from the world my commute provided. Now that I am a widowed grandmother, I can enjoy a good, long book anytime. I find reading the classics brings me great solace. The authors and their characters are like old friends.