Flesh Made Word

As Eric Auerbach noted in Mimesis, Montaigne rejected the Johannine myth of the "Word made flesh." His corrective: "I am myself the matter of my book," i.e., the flesh made word.

Even so, he did not endorse his literary art for art's sake. In "Of Experience," Montaigne averred that "to compose our character is our duty, not to compose books...Our great and glorious masterpiece is to live appropriately." Had Montaigne never written a word but, rather, led a life consistent with his discourse, he would have been what Donald Frame called "the Whole Man"--and that would have been enough.

Montaigne wrote because he was a humanist--a devotee of the word (a "philologist" in the old-fashioned sense). But such devotion is not sufficient, nor is it even necessary for a life of "wholeness." That said, because his wordiness manifested itself as a mode of self-translation, we, his readers, are the richer. His Essais model for us humanistic practice as a humanizing practice, where "humanization" is a process by which we learn to discover ourselves through others and others through ourselves. Put another way, in meditating upon his words, we trace the steps along the horizontal path of Montaigne's humanistic muridiyya.

The stations along this path include [1] the cognizance of human contingency, [2] the cultivation, in response, of an ironized sensibility, and [3] a commitment to human solidarity. In the end, Montaigne was not only Tolstoy's true master (see post of 09.04.13), but Rorty's as well.

The Essais constitute an enchiridion of humanizing humanism: a manhaj for those who would attend to Montaigne's voice and, illuminated by his discourse, find themselves "at home," at last, within their own skin.