Essay as Obstacle Course
For many people, the word “essay” may conjure memories of last-minute homework or stressful exams. They’re academic in the boring sense of blabbering on about a “subject” that a teacher will grade, and then can be mercifully forgotten. Although people devour political news articles (or showbiz gossip or sports reporting), essays remain the stuff of classroom dust.
So it’s hard to remember just how revolutionary the essay was when it emerged during the French Renaissance. Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) was mostly known during his life as a statesman, but he was also, among other things, the genius who invented the formless form of the essay. Owning a vast personal library, Montaigne was concerned by the certainty of scholars of his day, and how tightly they clung to the received opinions of fellow experts. In the quiet way that some of the most revolutionary ideas occur, Montaigne decided to play a game with himself. He asked: what do I know? Having asked such a question, he used the empty page as an arena for his own cognitive obstacle course. He used the word essai (a “trial” or “attempt”) to figure out what he really thought and felt. This is a profound insight, because we always think we know our minds until we sit down and write, and then the weirdness (our confusion, contradictions, secret fear and desire) spills out on the page.
Montaigne dumped all the parts of himself out on page after page, letting the different voices (formal, informal, erudite, gossipy) share what they had to share. He hopped from Greek and Latin quotes to bizarre anecdotes from his travels, and produced titles on drunkenness, smell, aging, sleep, virtue, friendship, cannibalism, vanity, idleness, excellence, etc. By letting his mind keep asking the question what do I really know—in my bones—rather than what I’ve been told?, Montaigne created an intellectual form of gameplay that ushered in the age of skepticism, and helped create the Enlightenment.
That’s all well and good, but what does this history lesson mean for us today, or the Rescape Project in particular? There are many forms of game: some challenge our balance or coordination, or speed, strength, tactical ability, and so on. But writing, and the essay specifically, can be understood as a total cognitive challenge. Memory, logic, wit, emotional intelligence, aesthetic sensibility… the mind in all its forms, personal and impersonal, manifests on the page and grapples with itself. And by making a regular habit of asking ourselves What do I know? or what do I want to understand better? we cultivate the core virtue that powers the Rescape Project: curiosity. This is the spirit of investigation: the desire to let go of old certainties and automated thought/behaviours. We slip the heavy chain of habit and start anew: what do I want to do today, and how do I want to do it? That is the secret value of essaying. It’s free: it costs nothing, anyone can do it, and you always play at exactly the level you need to play at. No one will grade you, and no one is in a position to tell you you’re doing it wrong or censor you. As long as you’re seeing your mind move on the page, and surprising yourself at what it says, you’ve already won.