Montaigne on blogging one's way to self-awareness*
The good Aquitainian, in 1580, might have foreseen some aspects of this somewhat pointless blog:
And though nobody should read me, have I wasted time in entertaining myself so many idle [oisifves] hours in so pleasing and useful thoughts? In moulding this figure upon myself, I have been so often constrained to temper and compose myself in a right posture, that the copy is truly taken, and has in some sort formed itself; painting myself for others, I represent myself in a better [plus nettes] colouring than my own natural complexion.
. . .
Nature has presented us with a large faculty of entertaining ourselves alone; and often calls us to it, to teach us that we owe ourselves in part to society, but chiefly and mostly to ourselves. . . . I give ear to my whimsies [resveries], because I am to record them.
The above, from "Of Giving the Lie," taken from Charles Cotton's 1686 translation, republished in 1877, and readable here.
John Florio produced an earlier, 1603 translation of the same Montaigne's Essays. Here's Florio's delightful rendering of the above, as readable on the most excellent HyperEssays website:
And if it happen, no man read me, have I lost my time, to have entertained my selfe so many idle houres, about so pleasing and profitable thoughts? In framing this pourtraite by my selfe, I have so often beene faine to frizle and trimme mee, that so I might the better extract my selfe, that the patterne is thereby confirmed, and in some sorte formed. Drawing my selfe for others, I have drawne my selfe with purer and better collours, then were my first. . . .
Nature hath endowed us with a large facultie to entertaine our selves a parte, and often calleth us unto it: To teach us, that partly we owe our selves unto society, but in the better part unto our selves. . . . I listen to my humors, and harken to my conceits, because I must enroule them.
The reader may well first and most importantly ask: "Is 'frizle' really a word?"
Why yes, yes it is, meaning pretty much what you think it means. The OED has various spellings of it in English going back to the late 1500s.
* * *
About these respective versions on Montaigne, Prof. Louise Westling made some really illuminating observations, in one of her first published articles:
"Something happened to English prose between Florio and Cotton which cut us off from Elizabethan linguistic exuberance. . . .
"Florio's tendency toward fullness of expression is closely related to Montaigne's habit of working by accretion in his revisions, presenting an idea in as many ways as possible. . . .
"[W]e find spirit and style devoted to the exploration and exploitation of the moment in the midst of flux. Language projects the sensuous immediacy of thought through allusiveness, paradox, metaphor, delight in word play, and constant appeal to the senses. . . .
"All that had changed by Cotton's time . . . They advocated practical, logical thinking presented in unadorned prose.."
Her footnotes duly credit F. O. Matthiessen's 1931 book chapter on Florio's version.
Here's Matthiessen:
"The first thing that strikes the reader of [Florio's] translation is his passionate delight in words." (pg. 121)
"Florio was no poet, but he shared some of the qualities which make it so often appear that the Englishman of the late-sixteenth century wrote with greater ease in poetry than in prose." (pg. 141)
"Florio plunges so deeply into the spirit of a situation and feels it so poignantly that it becomes his own, and he is no longer translating, but envisaging the scene anew. . . . Then the scene absorbs him so completely that he is practically writing new book." (pg. 147)
* * *
Montaigne famously observes:
"I have no more made my book than my book has made me: ‘tis a book consubstantial with the author."
But then which is his "true" me and which is his "false"? Or are both indeed in on-going flux? How meaningful here is the distinction? Trying to figure it all out is enough to leave one's brain quite frizled.
[*or self-deception]
posted by TiR at 7:01 AM
