It is only recently that people have started to regard literary, historical, and philosophical studies as worthless. Parents warn their children against humanities studies, and instead, try to steer them towards medicine, law, or computer science.
Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) was the living proof that, in prior centuries, people had regarded literature, history, and philosophy as highly practical.
In the sixteenth century, students viewed those disciplines as sources of wisdom and personal effectiveness. They devoted themselves to studying philosophy and history in order to lead a better life. They expected tangible, practical benefits.
Montaigne’s essays show us his dedication to those studies. For more than two decades, he delved into ancient books with the goal of absorbing their wisdom. He wanted to draw hands-on lessons and record them in writing for posterity.
To the extent that they enable us to acquire wisdom, literary appreciation and criticism do constitute practical disciplines. I can only lament that the today’s focus has shifted from wisdom to entertainment, from practicality to pretentiousness, and from cultural sophistication to manipulation.
Montaigne was acutely aware of the need to use one’s time effectively. He abhorred pretentiousness and worthless details. When he studied biographies and historical anecdotes, his goal was to absorb tangible wisdom.
The entertainment value of historical and literary studies is not playing a central role in Montaigne’s works. I compare him to an athlete, focused on his performance and indifferent to the rigours of daily training.
Montaigne’s essay “A Defence of Seneca and Plutarch”
In “A Defence of Seneca and Plutarch,” Montaigne draws a series of crucial lessons that reverberate in his later essays. He is addressing a question of permanent interest: Since nobody is perfectly consistent in his lifestyle and ideals, is it worth it to study the great authors of prior centuries?
Seneca (4 BC-AD 65) and Plutarch (46-120 AD) exemplify the question that Montaigne is raising. On the one hand, their writings are full of wisdom and compelling anecdotes. On the other hand, their lives failed to embody their ideals.
Montaigne arrives at the conclusion that inconsistencies do not invalidate the insights of those authors; they only show that Seneca and Plutarch were human, confronted with challenges, and far from infallible.
Nonetheless, their works deserve serious study because they widen our views, sharpen our intellect, and help us make better decisions. It matters little if Seneca failed to stick to his ideal of minimalistic simplicity, or if Plutarch invented some facts to fill gaps in his biographical narratives.
Montaigne regarded the lessons conveyed by those authors as more important than any moral error in their lifestyle or any inaccuracy in their narrative. I could not agree more. Let’s look at the philosophical lessons and forget the minor annoyances.
Montaigne: tangible benefits from literary appreciation
[1] As readers, we should aim at acquiring tangible wisdom, so that we can put it into practice right. Montaigne’s admiration for Seneca is based on Seneca’s recommendations for dealing with setbacks, reversals and defeats.
When Seneca wrote his “Letters to Lucilius,” he condensed the lessons of five decades: everything he had learned as one of the key administrators and financiers in the Roman Empire.
Montaigne praises the literary and philosophical qualities of Seneca’s works. Like no others, they can teach us the benefit of rationality and serenity. Let us internalise those lessons as stop criticising Seneca’s personal mistakes.
Montaigne: tolerance versus criticism
[2] In life, it pays off to be patient with other people’s errors or inconsistencies when they are made in good faith. Tolerance is an essential ingredient of happiness. Excessive demands are likely to generate irritation and strife.
Montaigne had witnessed first-hand the horrors of religious persecution driven by intolerance; that’s why he had committed himself to tolerating innocent errors or imperfections.
We can spare ourselves plenty of trouble in life if we adopt Montaigne’s tolerant attitude. What if Plutarch had distorted a few aspects in the biographies of Alexander the Great (356-323 BC) and Julius Caesar (100-44 BC)?
Plutarch’s intentions had been moral in the sense that he just wanted to make his narrative more compelling, driving readers towards virtue and away from cowardice, fear and defeatism. I agree with Montaigne that tolerance works well in those cases.
Montaigne’s reasons for literary appreciation
[3] Let us set our priorities straight. The acquisition of solid, tangible wisdom should stay high in our goals. Principles need to be learned step by step, and reading great books constitute a vast accelerator. They can provide invaluable guidance at very low cost.
Montaigne describes his favourite authors as guideposts and sources of inspiration for all times. Seneca can teach us lessons that we might need decades to learn otherwise. We must judge his “Letters to Lucilius” by their wisdom and underlying good intentions.
Why devote our time and efforts to literary appreciation and criticism? Montaigne provides two unassailable reasons. Since life is short, he reminds us, we should seize every opportunity to acquire wisdom quickly; and since death is certain at some point in the future, it’s in our interest to learn how to live in the best possible manner.
I agree with Montaigne that “knowledge is insufficient if we fail to put it into practice,” but knowledge needs first to be acquired. Random trial and error is expensive and dangerous. I can only endorse Montaigne’s view of great books as the best sources of wisdom.
If you are interested in applying rational ideas to all sort of situations here and now, I recommend you my book “Against all odds: How to achieve great victories in desperate times.”