Montaigne

Montaigne does not avoid putting himself into his essay, yet in the first few sentences he keeps it more impersonal, talking about “a man” and “his soul”. Almost sounds like a straightforward philosophical piece. But then he gives up the act and throws all the “I”’s that he wants at you. Many teachers tell you to leave out the “I”’s and to at least disguise expression of what is your own opinion and not fact. In the first paragraph he tells us a good deal about himself and his present state, and we wonder where he is going. Does this lead to something, or is he like an old man on the bus who decides to tell you his life story out of loneliness or senility? But yet we still hang on, waiting for a reason.

Next he starts speaking in Latin. The crazy old man on the bus has just started singing some song from his youth that OF COURSE I don’t know, and it’s a little weird that he just started singing. His sentences are long, rambling, and running, leading us around and affording no chance for interruption, and definitely no opportunity for distraction or inattentiveness, lest we completely lose his train of thought. If you start counting his commas out of amazement at his shameless use of them, you will realize with a jolt that you have no idea why he’s talking about cob-nuts or whip tops, and before you know it he’s in Latin again.

Attentiveness pays off when his observations stick with us, “I had rather be a less while old than be old before I am really so.” Chiasmus strikes us in the head out of the rambling.

His long and explorative sentences show us that he can, indeed, talk forever, and is wise and well-lived enough to be able to sustain this, pulling knowledge and references from every corner. But it remains a batty sort of wisdom that is confident enough in itself as to not care about structures that would make it easier for a reader to follow.

Montaigne has proven that he’s worth hanging on and deciphering. I wish I could stay on for the whole bus ride, but unfortunately, my stop comes. The crazy old man doesn’t even mind, but just keep talking. In Latin.