…the house I live in…

I have seen the grass, the flower, and the fruit; now I see the dryness–happily, since it is naturally. (III.2) 

I find great pleasure in existence, and much joy. With the advancing years, however, there is much that has fallen away in this regard, making what remains all the more subject to my attention. For instance, a good night’s sleep, or what is now referred to as good sleep hygiene, is critical to my well being and attitude, second only to a good morning bowel movement. I am not alone in this regard. 

“Both kings and philosophers defecate, and ladies too….Of all natural functions that is the one that I can least willingly endure to have interrupted. I have seen many soldiers inconvenienced by the irregularity of their bowels; mine and I never fail the moment of our assignation, which is when I jump out of bed, unless some violent occupation, or illness disturbs us.”

III.13

And of the other significant life pleasure, sleep, Montaigne writes: 

“I like to sleep hard and alone, even without a woman, in the royal style, rather well covered up. My bed is never warmed, but since I have grown old they give me, when I need them, clothes to warm my feet and stomach….If I am particular about anything else in my way of life, it is rather about sleeping than anything else….Sleeping has occupied a large part of my life, and even at this age I continue to sleep eight or nine hours at a stretch.”

III.13

*** 

Montaigne’s Essais runs to over half a million words. His complete works, including his travel journals and correspondence weighs in at 1336 pages in the Donald M. Frame translation, “Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Works.” To approach him for the first time can be daunting. If asked I would recommend starting at the end, with the last chapter of book three, “Of Experience.” Montaigne was 56 when he was writing this chapter. He would die a few years later. (And I should add, die with his pen in hand, as he was revising his book until the very end.) 

Here we find Montaigne relaxed and assessing his life. The political pursuits of his youth have receded into the past. He is famous and is perhaps for the first time in his life realizing that above all else he is a writer. There are indications too, that he was aware of his own significance as a thinker. 

So it is perhaps natural, as older folks will do, to find Montaigne talking about getting a good night’s sleep and having regular bowel movements. Rest assured, however, he was not taking on such topics for the shock effect, although there was some of that. (His contemporary Rabelais covered that territory just fine.) Rather, he was attempting to articulate his grasp of the human condition in its full complexity. His approach was wildly refreshing in his day, and remains so today. 

“Our life is composed, like the harmony of the world, of contrary things, also of different tones, sweet and harsh, sharp and flat, soft and loud. If a musician liked only one kind, what would he have to say? He must know how to use them together and to blend them. And so must we do with good and evil, which are consubstantial with our life. Our existence is impossible without this mixture, and one element is no less necessary for it than the other,” 

III.13

No picking and no choosing, as the Buddhists would say; but rather total and unequivocal acceptance. We are seeking life’s harmonic blend, to extend Montaigne’s metaphor of the musician, composing the score of life with the notes of existence.

* * *

Montaigne was unique in his time for his combination of body and soul. He is, as a result of his sustained endeavor to map the full human experience, occasionally referred to as the first modern thinker.^1. Unfortunately, it was only a decade later that Descartes upset the cart with his philosophical argument for dualism, body and mind, placing the emphasis on mind (I think, therefore I am). In the history of ideas, Descartes was thereafter granted center stage. Religion too, Christianity in particular, embraces the dualistic notions of existence, reinforcing the notion. The tradition is deeply seated in western culture and is particularly difficult, if not impossible, to escape. To close this dualistic gap is to arrive at what Sartre called the immense intermediary zone where soul and body unite.^2.

One, among many, of the great attractions of Montaigne is his emphasis on the entirety of what it means to be a human being. He had no patience for magical thinking or superstitious behavior. He was committed to understanding what it meant to be a human being through the experience and observation of the only subject available to him, himself. “If the world complains that I speak too much of myself, I complain that it does not even think of itself.” III.2 

The self-studied life of Montaigne echos that of Socrates–“The unexamined life is not worth living.”–and points unequivocally to the totality of existence without bifurcation. Yet, crossing that bridge is inordinately difficult. Overcoming Cartesian dualism is a spiritual journey for many, myself included. 

* * *

I simply love this last chapter. It is so rich and full of examined experience and wisdom. I will return to it in future posts. Until then, get a good night’s sleep. 

1. For an engaging read consider Jane Kramer’s 2009 New Yorker article, “Me, Myself, and I. What Made Michael Montaigne the First Modern Man?”
2. Écrits de jeunesse, ed. Michel Contat and Michel Rybalka (Paris: Gallimard, 1990) pg. 272 (emphasis added)