"I absolutely must marry Albertine." With these words of the narrator Marcel Proust ends the final chapter of Sodom and Gomorrah, the fourth volume in his monumental In Search of Lost Time. Whether the narrator is sincere or not, any lack of sincerity is more than supplanted by his passion, if not love, for Albertine. Throughout this volume and especially in the final chapters the narrator has had a tempestuous relationship with Albertine both in his mind and in his life in Balbec and...more "I absolutely must marry Albertine." With these words of the narrator Marcel Proust ends the final chapter of Sodom and Gomorrah, the fourth volume in his monumental In Search of Lost Time. Whether the narrator is sincere or not, any lack of sincerity is more than supplanted by his passion, if not love, for Albertine. Throughout this volume and especially in the final chapters the narrator has had a tempestuous relationship with Albertine both in his mind and in his life in Balbec and its environs. Some of the other themes that are prominent in the final sections of this volume are the passion of both Baron Charlus and the Prince for young 'Charlie' Morel. Morel, a reprobate and a cad who is made somewhat appealing (at least for this reader) by virtue of being a talented pianist, plays with both men without the other knowing about his liaisons much as a mouse plays with a cat. The ruling word throughout for both the narrator and other characters is passion, if not lust, in the erotic sense which pervades several relationships. The issue of the Dreyfus case is also prominent and Proust is able to convey the complicated views of both sides through the seeming necessity that most prominent characters be identified as either "Dreyfusards" or not. The overall feeling I retain from this reading is one of the cumulative effect of the layers of themes, many of which have appeared in the previous three volumes and will, undoubtedly, appear again in the final volumes of In Search of Lost Time. To some extent this is due to the influence of Wagner and the use of literary "liet motifs" by Proust and the technique of the search, in this case the search for love. That the search for love seems to devolve into an impasse of passion for the sake of sanity if not love itself is a wonder -- one of the many wonders of this continuously engaging novel. ( )

“Cities of the Plain”, or the less subtly euphemistic title of “Sodom and Gomorrah”, gives the reader some idea of the main theme to be found within this part of Proust's Novel. The theme is introduced early on, and is relied upon for most of the plot, providing several scenarios and new concerns for the author. The Verdurins depicted as so boring in previous volumes return here to play a fairly large part in the story, where they become slightly more endearing though stay as uninteresting otherwise; I was hoping we had seen the last of them, and I don't know what inspired Proust to change his opinion on them and decide that they were worth writing more about. Apart from this, the book was about as enjoyable to read as the Guermantes way – that is, not as good as the first two parts. ( )

It's a pity but I gave up on Proust half way through this...not his fault obviously ( )

http://nhw.livejournal.com/973188.htm...

Sodom and Gomorrah puts homosexuality front and centre; at the very beginning, we discover that the monstrous Baron de Charlus is in fact perpetually on the lookout for attractive men; and throughout the second half of the book the narrator is tormented by the idea that his girlfriend Albertine is having affairs with her girlfriends. Proust is himself a gay but very closeted writer, putting words in the mouth of a heterosexual narrator who observes but is horrified by homosexuality, and for today's reader there is more of the fascination of watching the author's mental train wreck than the idea that we are learning anything.

There is other stuff going on as well. At first I was afraid that we would have yet more bitchy and superficial social events, but we have the interesting compare and contrast between two key relationships - the narrator and Albertine, and Baron de Charlus and the young plebeian musician Morel - which drives the narrative. There are a couple of interesting confrontations with modern technology - the elevator, the motor car, the aeroplane. There are reflections on art and how people respond to it (a discussion continued from earlier works). And the significance of placenames is a major sub-theme of the last third of the book. All quite fascinating, and yet again I feel will reward re-reading in due course. ( )

No surprise that this volume, like the preceding ones, is a wonderfully written novel encompassing love, society, death, sleep, memory and time. Proust has razor-sharp observations of a number of subjects and what he says he says more eloquently than most other people.

Picking up right where The Guermantes Way left off, the narrator is about to attend the party of the Princesse de Guermantes. By chance, he sees M. de Charlus and Jupien together, leading to a long digression on the nature of homosexuals. Certainly for them, love is as excruciating as it is for heterosexuals, but there's the added isolation, fear and shame that come along with it. At the party, the narrator attempts to secure an introduction to the Prince de Guermantes while musing on all 'types' of society. A flash forward reveals the Princess' passion for Charlus - completely random and well-described - as well as her friendship with the narrator.

An expected late night visit from Albertine - his Balbec girl - inspires sudden obsession when she doesn't show. She also plays a large role when the narrator returns to Balbec Of all the stellar portions in the novel, the best is his return and the accompanying flood of memories. The hotel is now familiar and pleasant, but this brings back sweet yet painful reminders of his grandma. She'd been dead for a while, however, that fact has not really sunk in. Identical situations at Balbec return his grandmother to the narrator - but only then can he actually comprehend his loss. Being in the same environment, she's more alive to him than she was when he actually had her but took her for granted. During the visit at Balbec - where all the new impressions were violent and discomfiting - she was his one stable, familiar face. Of course he's intellectually aware of her death, but the true emotions were delayed until his return to Balbec.

His thoughts on memory
"it is, no doubt, the existence of our body...that induces us to suppose that all our inner wealth, our past joys, all our sorrows, are perpetually in our possession. Perhaps it is equally inexact to suppose that they escape or return...if the context of sensations in which they are presumed is recaptured, they acquire in turn the same power of expelling everything that is incompatible with them, or installing alone in us the self that originally lived them."

The pain leads to guilt over his selfishness during the first trip to Balbec and for a while he neglects Balbec society and Albertine. However, no pain can last so completely as that and eventually he starts worrying about Albertine's sexual orientation and possible lovers. The narrator is caught in a society battle between the Verdurins and the Cambremers and also gets drawn into the conflict between Morel and his lover Charlus. His obsession with Albertine parallels Charlus, who is actually somewhat vulnerable in his relationship. ( )