in search of lost time

the english translation of the title of a book written in french by marcel proust.
Proust's works were explained by, dare I say it?, a friend.. there.. that's it right there, a friend, called alexander mccall smith. yes the alexander mccall smith, the author, whose words bring me such relief.
How does he do it? I don't know. Maybe it is because there are no cynics in the book. and i cannot tell you what that means to me.
I worry a lot. about everything. about germs, about accidents. i have this great, huge, embarrassingly large fear of death.
I don't know what to do about it. and until then... i read.
coming back to proust, apparently, he is very good with descriptions. I havent read him yet. have you?