Like repels like. Of course, I’m not sure how neo-Con reptile brain Karl Rove feels about me, but I feel pretty repelled by him – a position that leaves me somewhat disconcerted by Vanity Fair’s Proust Questionnaire.
I’d not come across the Proust Questionnaire before, or at least not in a Proust-related form, but a friend, in passing, put me on to it today. I googled it. On a whim, I completed VF‘s version. I’m a 93.7% match for Karl Rove. Maybe we should hook up, me and Karl, Karl and I.
More happily, Martin Scorsese – Marty – matches me to the tune of 83.37%.
The questionnaire – or, anyway, something like it – dates back to a parlour game in vogue when Marcel Proust was a teenager. The adolescent Proust was asked to complete a “confession album” belonging to his friend Antoinette Felix-Faure, catchily entitled An Album to Record Thoughts, Feelings, etc.
He was so taken with the idea that he repeated the process a few years later. Here are his questions and answers. (It’s probably meaningful that very few people on the Web seems to be interested in Proust’s answers; everyone on the Web seems to be interested in giving you their answers).
I’m not very interested in either. I’m interested in Karl Rove’s answers. They’re detailed in a new Vanity Fair book that I’m not going to be gulled into buying. I don’t suppose I’m much like Karl Rove, really. I suppose, in fact, people are just repetitive. It’s a good job celebrities don’t really have dream dinner-parties, or poor old Nelson Mandela’d never get a minute to himself.
(postscript: Google turns up a 2008 Proust questionnaire with Karl Rove, and, though the questions are different, I can happily conclude that he’s not much like me at all (I almost never say ‘Fabulous!’ and I don’t want to live in Texas – though Borges would make my list, too).)