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Marcel Proust (1871 - 1922)  

Proust was born in Auteuil. His father was a famous doctor and epidemiologist and his mother was the daughter of a rich and cultured Jewish family (her father was a banker). She was highly literate and well-read.
By the age of nine Proust had had his first serious asthma attack, and thereafter he was considered by himself, his family and his friends as a sickly child.
Despite his poor health, Proust served a year (1889–90) as an enlisted man in the French army, stationed at Coligny Caserne in Orléans. As a young man Proust was a dilettante and a successful social climber, whose aspirations as a writer were hampered by his lack of application to work. His reputation from this period, as a snob and an aesthete, contributed to his later troubles with getting Swann's Way, the first volume of his huge novel, published in 1913.
Proust was quite close to his mother, despite her wishes that he apply himself to some sort of useful work. In order to appease his father, who insisted that he pursue a career, Proust obtained a volunteer position at the Bibliothèque Mazarine in the summer of 1896. After exerting considerable effort, he obtained a sick leave which was to extend for several years until he was considered to have resigned. He never worked at his job, and he did not move from his parents' apartment until after both were dead.
Proust was a homosexual and, though not completely open about his own sexuality, he was one of the first European writers to treat homosexuality at length.
His life and family circle changed considerably between 1900 and 1905. In February of 1903 Proust's brother Robert married and left the family apartment. His father died in September of the same year. Finally, and most crushingly, Proust's beloved mother died in September of 1905. In addition to the grief that attended his mother's death, Proust's life changed due to a very large inheritance he received. Despite this windfall, his health throughout this period continued to deteriorate.
Proust spent the last three years of his life largely confined to his cork-lined bedroom, sleeping during the day and working at night to complete his novel.
He died in 1922.


...e úniko buki berdadero, un eskritor no tin ku inventé den e sentido koriente, pasombra e ta eksistí kaba den kada un di nos, e mester tradusié so. E deber i trabao di un eskritor ta e deber i trabao di un traduktor
bo no por sa e berdat di e intenshonnan di un persona dor di pregunté
e deskubrimentu real di un biahe no ta pa haña teritorionan nobo, sino pa atkirí impreshonnan nobo
e rekuerdonan ku nos tin di otro, hasta den amor, no ta meskos
kada lektor ta lesa su mes, ora e ta lesa. E obra di e outor no ta otro kos ku un instrumento óptiko ku ta wòrdu ofresé na e lektor pa permitié distinguí loke kisas e no por a mira den su mes sin buki
nos tur ta obligá pa kultivá algun lokura chikitu seka nos mes , pa mantené e realidat soportabel
ora nos ta malu nos ta realisános ku nos no ta biba nos so, sino enkadená na un ser di un mundu diferente, di kua nos ta separá dor di abismonan, ku no konosénos i dor di kua ta imposibel di laganos wòrdu komprendé: nos kurpa
realidat ta e enemigu mas ábil. E ta dirigí su atakenan ne punto di nos kurason unda nos no ta spera nan i unda nos a prepará e defensa