We regret to chronicle the death of M. Marcel Proust,
the novelist. We discussed at some length in our recent Literary Supplement some aspects of his work, and especially Du Cote de Chez Swann, the first part of his enormous chronicle, A la Recherche du Temps Perdu. K. Proust has lain on a sick bed for a great part of his life, and the leisure and the minute introspection of the invalid are to be found in the character of his work. One of the leaders of what has been called the " stream of consciousness " school of modern novelists, he perhaps brought a more searching intelligence to the service of this medium than have any of his contemporaries and followers. His novels—or perhaps it is more correct to say, his novel—have as wide an appreciation in England as in his own country. His death is doubly to be regretted, as many of his admirers were of opinion that his most recent work was not his best, while it was also generally felt that the conclusion of his great narrative might be of such a sort that this apparently inferior work would fall into place. An examination of his papers may, however, yet reveal the resolution of the discord.
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