De essay michel montaigne
This is a classic double-whammy from Montaigne: the stout proclamation followed by a self-deprecating blush. As mammoth as the collected essays are--more than 1, tightly packed pages in the Screech edition--they form a unified field of experience. They take on the shape of a human life.
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We grow old with Montaigne, and his deepening presence is like a balm. No matter how loftily his essays are billed, Montaigne recognizes in the mundane particulars of our lives the sweetmeats of existence. He was a celebrant--a sensualist--of our routine humors: of our habits, our vanity, our melancholy.
Montaigne is perhaps the one great exemplar of sanity in literature, the most voluminous demonstration of how art can reside in the quotidian. Yet--and this is a quality even his admirers sometimes miss--he had a profound tragic sense. They recur like revenants throughout the work. The friendship Montaigne creates with us is based on an extraordinary directness and honesty; his study of the weakness of others is almost always a prelude to a study of his own. On the uncertainty of our judgement On war-horses On ancient customs On Democritus and Heraclitus On the vanity of words On the frugality of the Ancients On vain cunning devices On smells On prayer On the inconstancy of our actions 2.
On drunkenness 3.
Michel de Montaigne
A custom of the Isle of Cea 4. On conscience 6. On practice 7. On rewards for honour 8.
Columbus: Essays Book Club discusses "Essays" by Michel de Montaigne
On the affection of fathers for their children 9. On the armour of the Parthians On books On cruelty An apology for Raymond Sebond How our mind tangles itself up That difficulty increases desire On glory On presumption On giving the lie On freedom of conscience We can savour nothing pure Against indolence On bad means to a good end On the greatness of Rome On not pretending to be ill On thumbs On cowardice, the mother of cruelty There is a season for everything On virtue On a monster-child On anger In defence of Seneca and Plutarch The tale of Spurina On three good wives On the most excellent of men On the useful and the honourable 2.
On repenting 3. On three kinds of social intercourse 4. On diversion 5. On some lines of Virgil 6. On coaches 7. On high rank as a disadvantage 8. On the art of conversation 9. On vanity On restraining your will On the lame On physiognomy On experience View all 4 comments. The finest souls are those that have more variety and flexibility. Book III, 3. Jul 23, David Sarkies rated it really liked it Recommends it for: People who love philosophical ramblings.
Shelves: philosophy. A French aristocrat shares his personal opinions 6 January Normally I would wait until I have finished a book to write a commentary, however this book is a lot different in that is contains a large collection of essays on a multiple of subjects. Secondly, I have not been reading this book continually, but rather picking it up, reading a few essays, and then putting it down again. I originally read a selection of these essays but when I finished it I decided to get my hands on a comple A French aristocrat shares his personal opinions 6 January Normally I would wait until I have finished a book to write a commentary, however this book is a lot different in that is contains a large collection of essays on a multiple of subjects.
http://payments.dev3.develag.com/zym-hyster-h50h-forklift.php I originally read a selection of these essays but when I finished it I decided to get my hands on a complete version, preferably hardcover, and it has been sitting next to my bed for the last two years and I am only up to the second book of essays as of this writing — in fact I have only written comments on essays from two of the books.
This, as I mentioned, is a complete collection, however it is an older translation by John Florio, a contemporary of Montainge, which means that the English is quite archaic, though still quite readable. The only thing that stands out is the spelling and since there was no real standardised spelling back then, this is understandable. Florio was also a contemporary of Shakespeare, so marking Florio down because of his spelling is sort of like doing the same with Shakespeare and English has evolved a lot since then.
Anyway, this post is actually quite long, in fact longer than what Goodreads allows me to post, so instead of spilling over into the comments, I have instead decided to post the commentary in my blog which also allows for better presentation that Goodreads, though not by much since it is Blogger — I hope to go over to Wordpress sometime soon, but due to time commitments I am not able to at this stage.
E faz tanto sentido na altura como agora. View 2 comments. Dec 13, B. Jan 06, Marc rated it really liked it Shelves: ethics , philosophy. I admire Montaigne's honesty and straightforwardness. He observes daily live and especially his own behavior.
The extensive use of latin citations as was common use by humanists of that time was irritating at first, but I got used to it. From a historical point of view his longer essay "Apology for Raymond Sebond" was very interesting; in it Montaigne pointedly acknowledges the limitations of reason. My only doubt about this book is that Montaigne kind of propagates mediocraty a bit too much. For him that was in line with the very popular stoicism of his time. Jul 21, Alan rated it it was amazing.
National Endowment for the Humanities
Inventer--and perfecter--of the "trial composition," essayer. None better, after four centuries, though we have improved lying through essays. We call it "news": global warming? What global warming. NSA Spying? What spying--all legal. Humility is a good quality. Montaigne could have used a little bit of it. Sep 25, Jack rated it really liked it Shelves: 16thth-century , europe , non-fiction.
I think of Shakespeare, his fame and endurance, and although I am not one to suggest his work doesn't deserve the centrality in the English canon where it sits, I wonder precisely what qualities afford him a seemingly guaranteed immortality. I don't want to think about his poetic skill or his mastery of characterization.
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Instead, I find it intriguing that the authorship question still has such ground for conversation, if not quite academic relevancy. We don't know Shakespeare the man as much as I think of Shakespeare, his fame and endurance, and although I am not one to suggest his work doesn't deserve the centrality in the English canon where it sits, I wonder precisely what qualities afford him a seemingly guaranteed immortality. We don't know Shakespeare the man as much as we'd like; our debt in our English phraseology resides in a distant paternal figure.
The mystery frustrates and compels us - no author today will have the luxury of being so important and yet so unknown. If we knew even a fraction of Shakespeare's aesthetic theory or personal philosophy it would do more harm to his legacy than anything else. We appreciate his art as something timeless because the artist beholden to his own time doesn't truly exist.
I know little about Shakespeare the man, and now, so much about Montaigne, part of me can't help but believe their characters were likely quite similar. Montaigne's essays are all Montaigne, all the time. He insists upon himself, and he cannot escape himself. If you've ever engaged in personal writing in any form you have something in common with Montaigne. I write these reviews, and keep a diary, and occasionally try to write fiction - that order is the order of the difficulty in composition.
I have my subject in these reviews - the book - and have no further obligations beyond composing my brief impression of the text. When I write for myself, on myself, I find the words come naturally but the desire to probe further strained and painful.
I break into self-pitying asides - look at that sentence! Surely I could've written something better than that! Surely I have a firm enough grasp of language at this stage my vocabulary can adequately express the reality of my emotion at this very moment? Why is there no poetry to my honesty? Are my thoughts - the atoms of my being - as ugly as my words make them appear?
With writing honestly about myself proving such a burden, it follows that exploring myself and lifting fiction from the depths of experience is harder still. Montaigne writes in a fluid, articulate and sometimes frustratingly casual way about those very concerns. When the subject of one's writing is themselves, the difficulty is not in where to start but where to finish - what conclusions to make of oneself.
Perhaps it is a mental illness not to eventually abandon introspective writing in a fit of shame and embarrassment. Contemporary society in all its propagation of technology is certainly gifted in its ability to provide pain relief for the ego. In the early Church, despair was among the deadly sins we know so well.
Just because the word 'sin' no longer collocates with despair doesn't mean it is any less destructive than the others. On the contrary Montaigne is the definition of a 'constant companion'. His writing is friendly, appropriately scattering through trivial and fundamental topics of conversation, and he never seems to change. His attitudes to life and death are not really much altered from Book I to Book III - he considers everything and doesn't change his mind.
He can be as maddening as he is agreeable - his intense usage of quotes from antiquity never lets up, and it can get a little tiresome engaging with someone who seems to justify everything with Aristotle or Plutarch, even if he's contradicting himself in a previous essay.