Much has been written about Proust, but little that is more lucid and sensitive than this short essay by Howard Moss. Moss is a poet who has published four books of poetry and edited a book about Keats. He writes about Proust with a perceptiveness that is not unexpected. ""Proust"", says Moss, ""is the greatest of disenchanters. But only because he was so greatly enchanted himself, with his childhood, his grandmother, with Swann, Odette Albertine and a host of others. Remembrance of Things Past is a gigantic disappearing act in which the magician vanishes along with his magic in the service of illusion. He does so to prove that the illusory is the real"" in his supreme role as artist. A brief but genuine contribution to the voluminous, critical literature and it is highly recommended.