Paperback Castles

“If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time.”

I cannot explain what the plot is in this book. I am not sure if there even is a plot. Instead this is a book of deep thoughts and musings, long and curly sentences and an endless amount of atmospheric and momentarily impressions. Proust is able to stop time and space, to split every second into an eternity and to define every sense jolting through his main character's body. It is beautiful.

A tiny and hesitant bite of a madeleine transports the reader, the author and the main character on an incredible journey; memories come to life, old times become present - and every word is a delicate and tangible part of the experience. The rest of the book is memories boiling up with the steamy scent from a filled teacup.

This book is filled with long and complicated sentences, impossible words and a perfectly disorientated timeline. But every page is a journey, every word is a memory and every single letter is an experience.