In Search of the Lost Madeleine

Just a few weeks ago, I spoke here about madeleines, why they are called as they are, and the Iberian uniqueness of the classic paper-skirted madeleine versus the chic stylized French madeleine. I wanted to explain why ours ended up being large, chubby, paper-wrapped, and somewhat more rustic than its French predecessor, and I didn't have space to tell you one of the things that caught my attention while researching the topic.

Although in that article I mentioned that to know about madeleines, it wasn't necessary to "evoke Marcel Proust or his worn-out madeleine ecstasy," the truth is that on the internet, I came across numerous Proustian references, and one of them left me astounded. It turns out that in 1971, the small French village of Illiers, in the department of Eure and Loir, officially changed its name to Illiers-Combray. This was to commemorate the centenary of Marcel Proust's birth (1871-1922), and by ministerial decree, this small town of just over three thousand inhabitants became known by a name taken from fictional literature. Marcel Proust's paternal uncles had lived in Illiers, and he spent his vacations there between the ages of seven and eleven, until asthma, allergies, and other health issues prevented him from going to the countryside.

From 1881 onwards, Proust only returned to Illiers for inheritance matters, but like a fanciful and excessively nostalgic millennial, Mr. Marcel nurtured those childhood memories for the rest of his life and ended up giving great prominence to his uncles' village in his masterpiece. In the novel 'In Search of Lost Time', or rather in its seven parts published between 1913 and 1927, Illiers is presented camouflaged and reimagined under the name Combray, so the French thought it best to jump on the literary tourism bandwagon by giving a boost to the old village of Illiers.

I don't know if you have read what is the longest novel in history, but its first part ('Du côté de chez Swann' or 'Swann's Way') abounds in landscapes and characters from Combray and contains a passage so famous that it has practically become a cliché: the one about the famous madeleine. The narrator, an autobiographical stand-in for Proust, begins by saying that he has few memories of the place where he spent his vacations. According to him, the past is beyond the reach of conscious intelligence, hidden "in some material object (in the sensation that this material object would give us) that we do not even suspect."

As you might have guessed, the narrator soon discovers this holy grail. One winter day, his mother offers him tea, and he, despite not being accustomed to it, accepts the snack. And here is the crux of the madeleine matter: "She sent for one of those short, plump cakes called little madeleines that seem to have been molded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell [...] I brought to my lips a spoonful of tea in which I had let a piece of madeleine soak. But at the very moment when the sip mixed with crumbs of the cake touched my palate, I shuddered, attentive to something extraordinary happening within me [...] Where could that powerful joy have come from? I felt it linked to the taste of tea and cake, but it surpassed it infinitely, it must not have been of the same nature."

By repeatedly dipping, drinking, and allowing himself to be invaded by this strange sensation, a powerful memory finally surfaces. "That taste was of the little piece of madeleine that my aunt Léonie offered me on Sunday mornings in Combray (because on holidays I did not go out before mass time), when I went to greet her in her room, after having dipped it in her tea or lime blossom infusion." The sight, touch, or name of the madeleines had not provoked any reaction in the narrator until the moment they were mixed with tea and brought to his mouth. In Proust's words, "when nothing remains of an ancient past, after the death of creatures, after the destruction of things, only the smell and taste, more fragile but more vivid than ever, more immaterial, more persistent and more faithful, endure." This is the famous "Proust's madeleine effect" or Proustian effect, a memory phenomenon whereby a sensory perception awakens a previously forgotten memory.

Today, in Illiers-Combray, there is a Marcel Proust garden, a Swann park, his aunt's house has been transformed into the Musée Marcel Proust, and several pastry shops claim to sell the supposed and authentic madeleine known to the author. The fame of the Proustian madeleine has overshadowed that of Commercy, and there is a premium madeleine brand called 'La Madeleine de Proust'. What they don't tell you is that in 2015, when the handwritten drafts of 'In Search of Lost Time' were revealed, it was discovered that originally the memory was triggered by a piece of toast, which then became a biscotte and finally a madeleine.