It's one of those names the literate recognize but may not go out of their way to learn about.  That was true of me until I read Sarah Blakewell's excellent biography of Michel de Montaigne, "How to Live," which won a National Book Critics Circle Award, hit the bestseller list and gives one hope for the future of literature.

     Montaigne lived from 1533 to 1592 in Central France.  He was an aristocrat, but only gained that status in his father's generation as a result of his military and political career.  The family estate was assembled the generation before that on the banks of the Dordogne River.  The location was crucial, since one side of the river was Perigord, controlled by the Protestants, and the other was Bordeaux, which was primarily Catholic.

      Montaigne's education was unique.  His father insisted he be brought up speaking and communicating in Latin with his tutors.  He became well versed as a boy in the classics, also in Greek, but took a particular interest in the Stoics, the Epicureans, and the Skeptics--always a troublesome lot since they spoke about "how" to live, rather than the abstractions that attracted the eggheads.

     His major work, which occupied him for most of his life was the Essays, in which he re-invented the form so it included the life of the writer himself, a "new" concept that even today confuses readers who prefer a more formal and less intrusive form.  Combining that methodology with his knowledge of the classics led to some notable "rules" for living.  Such as:

      Don't worry about death, Pay attention, Be born, Read a lot, forget most of what you read, and be slow-witted.  Don't forget to use little tricks, Question everything, Keep a little room where nobody can find you, Wake from the sleep of habit, Live temperately, and Do something that nobody has done before. 

     Oh, not to forget: Philosophize only by accident, Give up control, Reflect on everything, and my personal favorites: Guard your humanity, and Be ordinary and imperfect.

    That's for starters.  Some may seem a bit innocuous, but they and his skepticism did succeed in getting Montaigne on the Index of Forbidden Books for almost two hundred years, and you don't come by such honors easily.  His riskiest admonition, depending on your point of view was to invoke moderation in all things, and of course nothing has changed in this regard either.  The hotheads still set the agenda.

     Only part of us is sane: only part of us loves pleasure and the longer day of happiness, wants to live to our nineties and die in peace, in a house that we built, that shall shelter those who come after us.  The other half of us is nearly mad.  It prefers the disagreeable to the agreeable, loves pain and its darker night of despair, and wants to die in a catastrophe that will send life back to its beginnings and leave nothing of our house save its blackened foundations.

     Montaigne's resolve was tested when he was the mayor of Bordeaux during the religious wars that were then racking Europe and would do so for many years.  He was a classic "reluctant" hero who baffled his critics with obfuscation.  He was a politician, not an ideologue who fought for compromise to the satisfaction of no one.  

     Ireland may only have been the most recent outbreak; one hesitates to call it the last in "Christiandom" for fear they'll start again.  The Sunnis and Shites, the Jews and the Muslims, the Hindus and the Pakistanis, and the tribes of Africa have nothing on Christians when matters that nobody can prove then or now are at stake.  Montaigne was well aware of the limits of reason when fanaticism was the will of the majority. 

     He was the guy who despite the mass slaughter all around him left the gates of his estate open, and instead of a private army standing over his bed had only an old man to help him dress--and behold he lived to tell the tale by virtue of his tongue and winning ways.  What a story!  I'm sure you've heard it, but never knew its source: Michel de Montaigne.

      Of course, the parallel with our age is obvious, and the shame that we are still fighting these sad wars.  The Edict of Nantes came in 1598, after Montaigne's death, but his work no doubt influenced it.  It proclaimed the dominence of conscience in the choice of religion yet in this country, formed from the beginning to secure religious freedom there are many faiths who still believe everybody is going to hell who doesn't believe what they believe.

     In the news recently was the story that so-called Christian "leaders" have met to decide on their "alternative" to Mitt Romney, whose Mormon faith is unacceptable to them despite every indication he could well be the only "ordinary" banana in the bunch, aside from Obama, but of course they need him as the "demon" to make themselves the heroes.  It's "what" you believe that matters to them, not how you live.  Ideology outdoes humanity once again.

     What would Montaigne say?  I think he'd counsel to stay detached--but don't run away--otherwise we become one of them and they've won.  There have to be some adults in the room even if the children aren't listening. The rest he would leave to the advancing of literacy and consciousness raising.  He was basically an optimist i.e. they can't all stay dummies all the time.  (I'm not so sure myself.)

    God is still the number one reason for meeting an "unnatural" death and nobody is laughing.  There is no doubt our culture learns little if anything from the past, but for those who do we  can take some hope there will always be Michel de Montaigne to act as our guide.