Swann's Way

of no importance. And yet it was to just that sort of amusement that he
was devoting his life. For what other kind of existence did he reserve
the duties of saying in all seriousness what he thought about things,
of formulating judgments which he would not put between inverted commas;
and when would he cease to give himself up to occupations of which at
the same time he made out that they were absurd? I noticed, too, in the
manner in which Swann spoke to me of Bergotte, something which, to do
him justice, was not peculiar to himself, but was shared by all that
writer's admirers at that time, at least by my mother's friend and
by Dr. du Boulbon. Like Swann, they would say of Bergotte: "He has a
charming mind, so individual, he has a way of his own of saying things,
which is a little far-fetched, but so pleasant. You never need to look
for his name on the title-page, you can tell his work at once." But
none of them had yet gone so far as to say "He is a great writer, he has
great talent." They did not even credit him with talent at all. They
did not speak, because they were not aware of it. We are very slow in
recognising in the peculiar physiognomy of a new writer the type which