“Marcel Proust wrote “the idea of popular art…if not actually dangerous seemed to me ridiculous.” Locked far away from society in his cork-lined room (why cork? Why not? It blocked out useless sound and probably had a strong enough smell to evoke memories abound), Proust wrote and wrote (and wrote and wrote) about the inanities of modern society, the limitations of “the now,” the importance of feeling and experiencing. Proust spent a good chunk of his 51 years (and several thousand pages) observing just how frivolous popular culture was.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s