I was surprised to come across some flatulent humour in Proust, although it fits in with his overall theme of sensory experience.
He describes the differing colours of a stick of asparagus showing "a rainbow-loveliness that was not of this world". He says he felt that these varying colours represented some exquisite creatures that had assumed vegetable form, and that "through the disguise which covered their firm and edible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn , these hinted rainbows, these blue evening shades, that precious quality which I should recognise again when, all night long after a dinner at which I had partaken of them. they played (lyrical and coarse in their jesting as the faeries in Shakespeare's Dream) at transforming my humble chamber into a bower of aromatic perfume".
Nice.
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