“A Room at the Back of the Shop” : Montaigne on Reinventing the Self

Early in 1570, Michel de Montaigne nearly died. While riding in the woods with a few servants and companions, Montaigne was unexpectedly thrown off his horse. Everyone was certain his end was near. Montaigne was carried home, and, laying in bed, he recalled himself “oozing away so gently.” For three days he struggled against Death — a battle so profound that later he reported, “I can still feel the effects of that battering” — until on the third day, “it appeared to me that lightning had struck my soul with a jolt and that I was coming back from the other world.” His return to this world was transformative. At 36 years old, having defeated Death, Montaigne decided to change his life.

The mid-life crisis is famous for producing some of the most significant works of literature. Dante Alighieri, for example, describes his own mid-life crisis in The Divine Comedy, conceptualizing this moment as a disorienting journey through a dark wood. He universalizes the experience, writing:

“Midway on the journey of our lives / I came to myself in a dark wood, / for the straight way was lost.”

It is clear that Montaigne’s near-death experience was not a typical mid-life crisis — his dark wood was much more literal than that of Dante. However, his response to the event proves that it is never too late to reinvent ourselves.

*Latin inscription on the wall of Montaigne’s library.*

The Philosophy of Home Renovations

Following his brush with Death, Montaigne underwent two significant life changes. The first was leaving politics. After 13 years of work in the government of Bordeaux, he stepped away. The second occurred on his 38th birthday. Across the wall leading to his library, Montaigne commemorated his retirement by painting a Latin inscription, declaring his new intentions:

“In the year of Christ 1571, at the age of 38, on the last day of February, anniversary of his birth, Michel de Montaigne, long weary of the servitude of the court and of public employments, while still entire, retired to the bosom of the learned Virgins [the Muses], where in calm and freedom from all cares he will spend what little remains of his life now more than half run out. If the fates permit, he will complete this abode, this sweet ancestral retreat; and he has consecrated it to his freedom, tranquility, and leisure.”

His home renovations did not stop there. He repurposed one of his two towers into what he referred to as his “room above the shop,” reserved for writing and contemplation. Montaigne believed that we all need a space dedicated to ourselves — a refuge away from the company of others in which our minds are given the freedom to explore. Montaigne assures us that such a pursuit requires difficult work. He would write:

“It is a thorny undertaking — more than it looks — to follow so roaming a course as that of our mind’s, to penetrate its dark depths and its inner recesses, to pick out and pin down the innumerable characteristics of its emotions.”

In his main chamber, he painted the roof beams with classical quotes, including Euripides and Sophocles. He found comfort surrounded by the words of these intellectual giants. Similar to the evening routine of Machiavelli, he found kinship with the men of antiquity. In a letter to a friend, Machiavelli describes:

“When evening has come, I return to my house and go into my study. At the door I take off my clothes of the day, covered with mud and mire, and I put on my regal and courtly garments; and decently reclothed, I enter the ancient courts of ancient men, where, received by them lovingly, I feed on the food that alone is mine and that I was born for.”

One can imagine Montaigne, as he constructed his library, eagerly awaiting similar meetings with his idols. Thus, preparation for Montaigne’s retirement was complete. Now, it was time to turn inward.

*Roof beams in Montaigne’s library. For a detailed description of each beam, click* *here*.

Know Thyself

It was in these years of devoted contemplation that Montaigne produced his remarkable Essays. Unlike other philosophers who tackled universal questions of free will, morality or reality, Montaigne dedicated his study entirely to gaining knowledge about himself. In one of his essays, he described:

“For many years now the target of my thoughts has been myself alone; I examine nothing, I study nothing, but me; and if I do study anything else, it is so as to apply it at once to myself, or more correctly, within myself.”

Many modern readers may view this perspective as profoundly self-absorbed; however, Montaigne has a poignant message for any who find fault in his contemplation:

“If I seemed to myself to be good or wise — or nearly so — I would sing it out at the top of my voice. To say you are worse than you are is not modest but foolish … no virtue is helped by falsehood.”

Just as other philosophers searched for Truth, so Montaigne argued that there existed Truth within the self; the study of oneself would provide the opportunity to shed greater light on these intimate parts. And if we discover truths about ourselves — whether good or bad — why hide them? It is only through knowledge of oneself that one may develop an even greater understanding of one’s place in the world.

Moreover, Montaigne believed that knowing oneself is no easy task. Truly, he argued, no labor was harder or more rewarding:

“No description is more difficult than the describing of oneself; and none, certainly, is more useful.”

While many of us focus on solving overwhelming and out-of-reach worldly problems, Montaigne reminds us that before we attempt to find these solutions, we must first turn an inquiring eye upon ourselves. How can we possibly provide enlightened answers about morality or world affairs without first examining our own morals and affairs? We must retreat into our own “room above the shop” and spend time first knowing ourselves. Montaigne concluded:

“You should no longer be concerned with what the world says of you but with what you say to yourself.”

Montaigne Conquers Death

Returning to his old foe and the impetus of his new life, Montaigne revisits Death in his Essays. One may think that his earlier meeting would alert Montaigne to his own terrifying mortality. On the contrary, he describes death as a close companion:

“Death is one of the attributes you were created with; death is a part of you; you are running away from yourself.”

Moreover, Montaigne argues, we must become friends with Death. We must deprive Death of its power over us by removing its “strangeness.” The more we are accustomed to Death — much like the more we are familiar with ourselves — the less its uncertainty is perceived as a threat.

“Let us frequent it, let us get used to it; let us have nothing more often in mind than death.”

Montaigne clearly achieved this relationship with Death. Knowledge of his own mortality did not lead him to fear; rather, he found a remarkable freedom in this knowledge:

“We do not know where death awaits us; so let us wait for it everywhere. To practice death is to practice freedom. A man who has learned how to die has unlearned how to be a slave.”

It is an extraordinary perspective, one that could only emerge after years of dedicated reflection.

Humanity is much richer since Montaigne fell off his horse. His Essays are some of the most profound meditations on human life, and the depth and breadth of his knowledge remain poignant encouragement for us to engage in similar practices. Montaigne teaches us that it is never too late to alter our life course. A room is always waiting for us, silently welcoming us into our own company and handing us the means of our own discovery.

“We have lived quite enough for others: let us live at least this tail-end of life for ourselves.”

This article was inspired by my reading of Essays by Michel de Montaigne.

*All quotes of Montaigne are taken from the Penguin Classics translation.