It is essence that escapes the structure that conceptuality imposes. The pleasure that suffuses the senses, is evoked by an experience of the insubstantial, the taste of a sweet cake, the scent of a lilac. There is nothing in the experience than can be seized upon, or conceptually grasped, but the body that was conceived, finds intense pleasure in it.

Proust is suggesting a connection between the pleasure of taste and smell and the pleasure of remembrance. Simultaneously with the physical pleasure, there is psychological pleasure, a release from the tension of the structure. Images from the past are as insubstantial as some sweet scent. Proust leaves the substantial world outside, and moves inside to immerse himself in the insubstantial.

The pleasure of music is an affect of essence. The elemental, the composition and performance are suffused with a scent or a taste that is heard. It is as if, composition, the elemental, decomposes in the presence of the essence, and in so doing, it appears that the elemental is the source. But that is illusory; the essence is threre, before one note is put on the page.