In contrast to writers in our century, Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) never claimed to be extraordinarily creative. Even during his last years, when it was obvious that he had produced a remarkable output, his attitude remained modest.
Historians have speculated whether Montaigne’s talent was innate or acquired, original or the result of imitation, a case of genius or of incidental circumstances. I view those debates as pointless because Montaigne himself had revealed the source of his creativity.
Montaigne explains in his essay “On Constancy” how all his output (literary or otherwise) rests on his resilience, that is, his ability to remain serene, collected and productive in the face of obstacles.
I want to dispel right away the myth that Montaigne was a millionaire who never had to work a day in his life after having inherited a large property from his father.
Montaigne had indeed inherited from his father a property, a large parcel of land with a manor (farmhouse), not a castle or a palace. The salient particularity of Montaigne’s farmhouse is that it possessed a small tower overlooking the hay fields.
The farm required heavy work, for which Montaigne hired men from the nearby village, and in any case, demanded from him several hours of effort per day.
The revenue from the farm did not afford Montaigne other luxuries than travelling once a year, either to Bordeaux, Paris, or abroad. Even for sixteenth-century standards, Montaigne’s lifestyle was clearly far below that of millionaires.
The explanation of Montaigne’s literary creativity
Nonetheless, Montaigne had one character trait that placed him above his peers: he was remarkably resilient in the face of severe trouble.
What kind of severe trouble? I am referring especially to the hostile, harsh environment of the French religious wars, and to Montaigne’s chronic suffering from kidney stones.
Despite his many attempts to alleviate the latter, Montaigne never succeeded. The kidney stones plagued him for a decade. The excruciating pain sometimes rendered him unable to do anything for days.
In those circumstances, creativity depends entirely on one’s commitment to getting things done. Nowadays, we call it self-discipline. In Montaigne’s century, people preferred to call it assiduousness or constancy.
Montaigne did not acquire his constancy from his family or friends. Even his best friend Etienne de La Boetie (1530-1563) only possessed this virtue to a limited extent. In fact, we would have to search long in sixteenth-century France to find a man possessing a constancy level similar to Montaigne’s.
Where did Montaigne draw his immense constancy from? I would say that he got eighty per cent from reading, primarily ancient Greek and Roman authors such as Aristotle (384-322 BC), Seneca (4 BC-65 AD) and Epictetus (55-135 AD).
Montaigne got the remaining twenty per cent from his own reflections and experience. Across the decades, he must have devoted thousands of hours to thinking things through. He had not been blessed with innate wisdom, but was willing to exert himself to acquire it.
Sources of Montaigne’s literary creativity
Thus, constancy is drawn partly from historical examples, and partly, from intellectual examination. It all revolves around answering the questions “How do I become happy?” or “What is the best use of my time?”
Luckily, Montaigne arrived at the right answer. By the time he turned thirty, he had acquired habits (constancy, equanimity, truthfulness) that enabled and sustained his creativity.
Montaigne loved to recount the fable of “The Tortoise and the Hare” written by Aesop (620-564 BC). Despite its natural advantages, the hare ends up losing the race because it its lack of constancy. The tortoise is not supposed to win, but continues to advance step by step, and eventually overtakes the hare.
Creativity arises automatically when you practise constancy, as illustrated by the ancient Greek legend of Hercules. Forced by the gods to perform twelve seemingly impossible tasks, he came up with ingenious solutions enabling him to accomplish them all.
Montaigne deployed levels of creativity similar to those of Hercules. In fact, I posit that Montaigne possessed far fewer resources than Hercules, but was propelled by extraordinary constancy.
I endorse Montaigne’s definition of constancy as “the ability to remain steady in the face of adversity and pain,” but I would add an element of purpose. I would formulate it as “the ability to keep pursuing a crucial goal despite adversity and pain.”
Creativity arises from the struggle to achieve an objective as quickly as possible. The mythical Hercules was not labouring against the clock, but Montaigne remained acutely aware of his own mortality.
Montaigne encouraged his readers to keep going “despite the blows of misfortune.” It’s during difficult times that people show their true colours. Constancy is especially valuable when confusion reigns, and there is a strong temptation to give up.
Constancy is the main ingredient in the recipe for creativity, but not the only one. We also need a degree of purposefulness, so that our efforts remain focused. Let’s imitate Montaigne, so that, in times of adversity, “we keep our spirit intact.”
If you are interested in putting rational ideas into practice in all sort of situations, I recommend you my book “Asymmetry: The shortcut to success when success seems impossible.”