Swann’s Way Part 4 – The Kiss

So, I left off at the point where Swann had found Odette after desperately searching for her. Now he invites her into his carriage to take her home.  

She is covered in cattleyas, holding a bunch, fastened to her swansdown plume and attached to the front of her dress. She is in a state of shock at seeing Swann, whom she probably assumed couldn’t be bothered to come to the Verdurin’s latest party. The carriage knocks them around a little, which makes her feel breathless; he is solicitous but will not allow her to speak, offering to adjust the flowers on her bodice which were loosened by the carriage bumping, to brush off some pollen that has fallen on her dress and to smell her flowers to see if they have lost their scent. She scarcely seems to know how to react to him, and he doesn’t’ seem to want her to speak or react that much. 

I wanted to do a close reading of the next part. 

He slipped his other hand upwards along Odette’s cheek; she fixed her eyes on him, with that languishing and solemn air which marks the women of the old Florentine’s paintings, in whose faces he had found the type of hers; swimming at the brink of her fringed lids, her brilliant eyes, large and finely drawn as theirs, seemed on the verge of breaking from her face and rolling down her cheeks like two great tears. She bent her neck, as all their necks may be seen to bend, in the pagan scenes as well as in the scriptural. And although her attitude was, doubtless, habitual and instinctive, one which she knew to be appropriate to such moments, and was careful not to forget to assume, she seemed to need all her strength to hold her face back, as though some invisible force were drawing it down towards Swann’s. And Swann it was who, before she allowed her face, as though despite her efforts, to fall upon his lips , held it back for a moment longer, at a little distance between her hands. He had intended to leave time for her mind to overtake her body’s movements, to recognise the dream which she had so long cherished and to assist at its realisation, like a mother invited as a spectator when a prize is given to the child whom she had reared and loves. Perhaps, moreover, Swann himself was fixing upon these features of an Odette not yet possessed, not even kissed by him, on whom he was looking now for the last time, that comprehensive gaze with which, on the day of his departure, a traveller strives to bear away with him in memory the view of a country to which he may never return. 

The first time I read this passage I thought it was beautiful, but on re-reading it I found that there are things about it that indicate that all is not as romantic as it first seems. Firstly there is the imagery of her seeming to be on the verge of tears. She ‘knew her attitude to be appropriate to such moments’ – although Swann may forget that Odette is really just a courtesan, the narrator doesn’t let the reader forget. He tries to resist her kiss; the narrator suggests that it is through wanting to prolong her perceived purity, but use of ‘intended’ seems to suggest that Swann has been planning it. The language Proust uses is not that of two lovers, he uses a simile related to a mother and child and to the kiss being like a child’s prize, and there is something a bit peculiar about it. Perhaps it is down to the sense that Swann feel protective towards her, although it is not sure whether Odette actually does need protecting or if her seeming innocence, deferral to Swann’s intelligence and behaving in a wifely way towards him is merely an act to seduce him which has evidently worked. Finally, the narrator returns to the theme of the traveller from the overture, although in this case it is not coupled with the imagery of the invalid, instead it is more to do with memory.

Odette is mostly seen through Swann’s obsession, but Swann himself is mostly seen through the narrator’s gaze and they are both complex characters who can be subject to multiple interpretations. There is a sense that in some ways the narrator romanticises both of them. Odette is an enigma, why does Swann seem to force himself to love her? It’s almost as if he is behaving like an aging roué who has to find some woman, any woman to settle down with, even a former courtesan. I suppose he has probably burnt his boats as far as respectable women are concerned as he has applied to all his acquaintances to meet different women. He is curiously shy and timid towards her, hiding behind the pretence of rearranging her flowers to make sexual advances towards her. 

The relationship completely changes him in that he gives up other women: ‘Swan was no longer the same man’ (p232). He goes to see Odette every night, getting her to play Vinteuil’s sonata which heightens and intensifies his love: ‘one would have said that he was inhaling an anaesthetic which allowed him to breathe more deeply’ (p234). I think the use of ‘anaesthetic’ here is telling – it is as if he has become ‘drugged’ by her. Love affects the senses, intoxicates. 

He knows very little about what she does during the day and little of her past, only that she was a ‘tart’ and a ‘kept woman’ previously. He believes that she is ‘incapable of not telling the truth’ (p237), demonstrated by her apparent embarrassment at being caught out in a white lie. He is disturbed by the thought of her life away from him. He recognises and accepts her lack of taste and intelligence and she hides away from society, fearing gossip from a former friend she fell out with, whereas he is instinctively at ease moving in all circles. The narrator suggests that he is ‘slumming it’ and stooping to her level (p243), changing his tastes and opinions to suit hers.

He deceives himself about the Verdurins, spending more and more time with them. Odette gets them to invite the Comte de Forcheville (brother-in-law to Saniette) to a terrible party. Forchville is extra vulgar and tries to seduce Odette, the doctor makes awful puns and Brichot (a visiting professor) is a big fraud. Swann is defensive towards Forcheville and Brichot because he fears that Odette may go off with one of them, so he offends everyone instead and the Verdurin’s lose respect for him. 

He is continually buying presents for Odette and bailing her out of financial problems, not considering that she may be a gold-digger but fearing that she will go off him if he doesn’t financially reward her. It is almost as if he is ill: ‘But that state of excitement into which Odette’s presence never failed to throw him, added to a feverish ailment which, for some time now, had scarcely left him’. (p265). One night, when she is feeling unwell and denies him sexual favours, he convinces himself that there is a man visiting and spies on her, but looks in the wrong window. 

Gold Digger! (link)

 He is tortured by his love for her and cannot take any pleasure in it. The reader knows what will happen, after all, Odette is highly likely to be the ‘unfortunate wife’ of the first part that he feel no love for and who seems to be an embarrassment. What isn’t known is how or why he gets to that stage, although the narrative clearly points to this love affair becoming a complete disaster for him.