Proust, Proust, Proust...

Yesterday I spent a good 2-3 hours reading more from the book "Remembrance of things past, within a budding grove" by Marcel Proust. This book is very intense, it’s writing style that features huge sentences that drag on for several lines often end up leaving me with little to no idea what I just read; I'll give you an example. *opens book randomly and selects a sentence* 88 words I counted in this sentence!! "People who move in society are very short sighted ; at the moment in which they cease to have any relations with the Israelite ladies whom they have known, while they are asking themselves how they are to fill the gap thus made in their lives, they perceive, thrust into it as by the windfall of a night of storm, a new lady, an Israelite also ; but by virtue of her novelty she is not associated in their minds with her predecessors, with what they are convinced that they must abjure." Anyway, keeping track of what’s said is getting tough, but I'll keep going at it, not that much more to read now... About 4-5 hours, if I'm going to understand it.