Montaigne
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My Summer with Montaigne – “Of Experience.”
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 Continue reading
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My Summer With Montaigne – “He’s a jumble of contradictions.”
“For thirty years I have kept Donald M. Frame’s translation of “The Complete Works of Montaigne” at, if not bedside, hand.” ~ Gore Vidal I was working in the campground. We’d had a violent thunderstorm the previous night and branches were down and stuff was strewn about. A woman approached. She was not young and Continue reading
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My Summer with Montaigne – “What, have you not lived?”
I am infused with a baby-boomer’s, mid-western ethic to produce. I am not alone in this. It is our culture. As a capitalistic society if we don’t produce and consume, everything will come to a halt, or so we are told. My work ethic has served me well and I enjoy the benefits of my Continue reading
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My Summer with Montaigne: “When I dance, I dance…”
Let me give you the full quote from the snippet above: “When I dance, I dance; when I sleep, I sleep. And when I am walking alone in the beautiful orchard, if my thoughts are sometimes preoccupied, the rest of the time I bring them back to the walk, to the orchard, to the sweetness Continue reading
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My Summer with Montaigne—“Que sçais-je”
“He will calm you…You will love him, you will see.” – Flaubert on Montaigne “I have little control over myself and my moods. Chance has more power here than I.” (Book I, Chapter 10) With these two little sentences Montaigne sets a course that is unique, both to him and the world in which he Continue reading
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My Summer with Montaigne
Let’s talk about the essays. Montaigne’s book was titled Essais, meaning, in the Middle French of the day, “tests” or ”attempts.” 1. The literary form we refer to today as the “essay” did not exist. E.B. White wrote essays for the New Yorker. Susan Sontag wrote essays. Even I write an essay every once and Continue reading
...the house I live in... 