Waggish, one of my favorite literary weblogs, is reading In Search of Lost Time, one of my favorite novels, and keeping a journal. He's reading the English Moncrieff/Kilmartin edition, pre-Enright, which was given the less literal title Remembrance of Things Past, from Shakespeare's Sonnet XXX:

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

(But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.)

Waggish Reads Proust

Since I haven't read the pre-Enright edition, I don't know why the translators chose the Shakespearean title. I'd be interested in finding out why.