Someone once wrote a nearly 300 page biography of Proust’s mother. University of Chicago press just published the thing. Personally, the idea of spending years writing a biography of Proust’s mother seems so sad. But then I was never a post-grad in literature, so I suppose it’s just a matter of perspective. If that was a proustian joke I didn’t get it, as alas I have never read Proust. If it was a Joycean joke I didn’t get it either. Same reason, but even more on the alas side. I think. Which means I had better start or I will never be able to tell if I made a joke or not. I wonder if my employer will grant paid leave for a month or two to read Proust? Damn…ignorance had been so blissful. Now this nagging doubt. I wish I had never started this post.