One might assume this chimes with the philistine assertion that philosophy, like art, is subservient to reality and is only a distraction from it. The worldly signs are the only ones capable of causing a kind of nervous exaltation, expressing the effect upon us of the persons who are capable of producing them. Our culture's fascination with the charismatic individual means our most popular figures are those who emit the worldly signs across the board. If they are artists too, then the art is always shallow, secondary to the personality. Worldly signs constitute postmodern art.
Love is what makes the difference in Proust's novel.
When Marcel is in love, or sees love taking its course when Swann falls for the coquettish Odette, the worldly signs begin to unravel. The beloved appears unknown to us, implying, enveloping, imprisoning a world that must be deciphered, that is, interpreted. To love is to try to explicate, to develop these unknown worlds that remain enveloped within the beloved. But there are problems even when love is requited. Jealousy is the inevitable result.