Professional Documents
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Renaissance studies.
Volume: 23 Issue:
Month/Year: 1993Pages: 43-67
Article Author: Wiesman M
Article Title: Verses have fingers
42
"Sur des vers de Virgile," the fifth chapter of Montaigne's third book
of essays, revolves around the "cinquime point en amour," physical
pleasure.1 The two citations that structure the chapter, the first from
Virgil and the second from Lucretius, exhibit erotic love and provide
an aesthetically compelling display of "the scene of writing," the sexual
locus for the production and reproduction of literary expression. Terence Cave has demonstrated that, in this essay, "sex and language are
so closely associated that it is difficult (and unnecessary) to decide
whether language represents sex, or sex language," and that the "description of sexual activity is displaced to become a figure of the relationship between a text and its reader," 2 and Lawrence Kritzman has
studied how "Sur des vers de Virgile" "promotes an anatomical discourse in which a metaphorical equivalence is established between text
and body." 3 Most of the many recent commentators on the essay have
also recognized that it functions as a unique laboratory wherein the
Latin citations constellating the text assume a fundamental role: the
very title of the chapter gestures towards Montaigne's constant importation of foreign texts into his own. In this essay especially, Latin often
operates as the "pudique" veil letting pudenda and varied acts of sexual
love peer through. However, actual work on the intertextual commerce
of the chapter and the Latin texts it selects for use and/or elaboration
Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 23:1, Winter 1993. Copyright 1993 by
. In European Literature cmd the Latin Middle Ages ( N e w York: Harper and Row,
107. Hitti, History of the Arabs, 742; Edward Atiyah, The Arabs, rev. ed. (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1958), 73-74.
10S. It must be mentioned, however, that educated mariners seem to have had real
doubts about the legends. For example, the Arab navigator Iba Mjid, who was said to
have piloted Vasco da Gama from Africa to India (H. A. R. Gibb, Arabic Literature,
2nd rev. ed. [Oxford: Clarendon, 1963], 143), wrote a practical manual for pilots in
1489 in which he mentions the Island of Men and the Island of Women with the comment that there is no need to discuss them or attempt to establish their exact location
because "no informants provided us with information about them." See Ahmad Ibn
Mjid, Kitb al-Fawfoid fi Usui dim al-Bahr ival-Qawdd, ed. Ibrahim Khoury and
Izzat Hasan (Damascus: Arab Academy of Damascus, ajh. 1390/AD. 1971), 1:277.
109. Hitti, History of the Arabs, 745; Gibb, Arabic Literature, 159; Atiyah, The
Arabs, 73.
1953), 512-17, Emst Robert Curtius gives a rapid overview of the Medieval and Renaissance tradition assigning five "lignes," "pas," or "points" to amorous engagements. In
"Sur des vers de Virgile," Montaigne refers to the fifth "poinct," physical possession, in
the following instance: "Qui n'a jouyssance qu'en la jouyssance, qui ne gaigne que du
hutpoinct" (3.581]).
2. Terence Cave, The Cornucopian Text: Problems of Writing in the French Ren-
aissance (Oxford: Clarendon, 1979), 287. Cave's reading of "Sur des vers de Virgile"
(ibid., 283-303) is unsurpassed.
3. Lawrence D. Krirzman, The Rhetoric of Sexuality and the Literature of the
43
44
has been scanty.4 To increase our understanding of Montaigne's citational strategies in the essay, these pages will single out the salient Latin
sententia "et versus digitos habet" ("and verses have fingers"), which
introduces the pertinent verses of Virgil into the text and encapsulates,
in four words, the reflections of both Cave and Kritzman: text is body,
a sensual body massaging the reader into powerful arousal and effectively mimicking sexual caresses. To appreciate fully Montaigne's intertextual dexterity, it will first be necessary to reread the passage of
Juvenal's sixth satire that the essayist is exploiting, and then to observe
how the themes central to "Sur des vers de Virgile" are heralded in
"De trois commerces" (3.3). 5
I. Juvenal
From the second century to the nineteenth, Juvenal's sixth satire has
attracted the attention of many admirers and imitators.6 It is the longest
of Juvenal's extant satires (some seven hundred verses), and it has
eluded all attempts at a unified reading.7 After a prologue evoking the
departure of Pudicitia from our world and the new reign of a perverse
Iron Age, its only organization seems to be a paratactic string of tab4. For a detailed (but incomplete) analysis of the use of Virgil and Lucretius in <!Sur
des vers de Virgile," see Mary B. McKinley, Words in a Corner (Lexington, Kentucky:
French Forum, 1981), 63-102. Floyd Gray adds significantly to this analysis in his "Eros
et criture: sur des vers de Virgile," in Marcel Tetel and G. Mallary Masters, eds., Le
Parcours des Essais; Montaigne 1588-1 $88 (Paris: Aux Amateurs des Livres, 1989),
263-72. For the use of Martial's epigrams in 3.5, see Dorothy Coleman, "Montaigne's
'Sur des vers de Virgile': Taboo Subject, Taboo Author," in R. R. Bolgar, ed., Classical
Influences on European Culture, A.D. 1500-1700 (Cambridge; Cambridge University
Press, 1974), 135-40. In her book The Gallo-Roman Muse: Aspects of Roman Literary
45
from Juvenal to Chaucer (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1990).
9. "Noctibus hie ponunt lecticas, micturiunt hie / effigiemque deae longis siphonibus
implent / inque vices equitant ac Luna teste moventur" ("At night, they have their
sedan chairs set at that spot, and here they urinate and douse the statue of the goddess
with abundant screams as they take turns riding each other, spurred by the Moon, their
only witness"; 11. 309-1 ). I use the following edition of the text of Juvenal: Satires, ed.
and trans. Pierre de Labriolle and Franois Villeneuve (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1950),
-and I take into account their excellent French translation of the text to produce my
English renditions.
10. Here is the Latin text and my translation: "Quaedam parva quidem, sed non
46
fashionable infatuation of young Roman women with the Greek language, a fad that irritates their husbands. The Romans' obsession
with Greek achievements, and their insuperable feelings of inferiority
towards the culturally more versatile people they have subjugated,
have penetrated the psyche of women. The fondest wish of the lady
from Sulmo or from Tuscany is to trade her province for Cecropian
Athens, and her most intimate passionsanger, fright, worries, all the
secrets of her. heartprefer the Greek idiom as vehicle: "Everything is
in Greek, as if it were not much more shameful for our women to
ignore Latin." Juvenal is here venting his anger against the grecization
of Roman culture, a theme he plies at length in the third satire (11. 59136), where he viciously berates the Greeks' ability to flatter anyone
in any situation, and where he compounds his racism with memorably
sexist lines when he speaks of a Greek actor specializing in female roles:
"It is indeed a woman, and not a fictive mask, who is speaking; it seems
that below the belt there is a lack, that everything is flat, with a small
crack the only difference." 11 The fondness of fashionable young ladies
for the language of the colonialized "other" thus explains itself in sexual terms: Greek is particularly appropriate as nonphallic, as the language of the oppressed and feminized. Worse, this love of Greek,
fulfilling its sexual inscription, has even invaded the bedroom: "wives
even make love in Greek" ("concumbunt Graece"; 1. 191), a half-line
that jumps out of the text with epigrammatic and prosodie vigor.12
Juvenal, who, like Horace, is a staunch promoter of latinitas and combats the encroachment of neologisms coming from Greek into Latin,
thus brings a stylistic polemic into his discussion of women's sexuality.13 The staunchly male and paternalistic ethos of a Cato is subverted
by an alien language that provides women with a special vocabulary
for sexual rapture and leaves men silent and bereft of a voiced pleasure.
Juvenal does not stop here, however, and gives a grotesque twist to his
accusations. He is willing to excuse this dangerous affectationto have
intercourse in Greekwhen it can be construed as a temporary aberration of youth. It is quite another matter when the same lascivious usage
surfaces in the amorous strategies of a randy eighty-six-year-old woman
who, at every turn, uses such Greek expressions as "z kai psyche"
("my life, my soul") in order to entice young lovers. Juvenal quips
that such language should remain underneath the blankets ("sub lodice"), a remark that leads us back to the passage quoted and altered
by Montaigne: "For what male penis (inguen) will a soft, naughty
voice not excite? Such a voice has fingers" ("digitos habet," 11. 19697). If it were not for a face that betrays her age, the old woman's
voice, by showering Greek blandishments, could metaphorically body
itself forth and directly attend to the eager inguen.
toleranda maritis. / Nam quid rancidius, quam quod se non putat ulla / formosam nisi
quae de Tusca Graecula facta est, / de Sulmonensi mera Cecropis? Omnia graece, /
cum sit turpe magis nostris nescire latine; / hoc sermone pavent, hoc iram, gaudia,
curas, / hoc cuncta effundunt animi secreta. Quid ultra? / Concumbunt graece. Doncs
tarnen ista puellis: / tunc etiam, quam sextus et octogensimus annus / pulsat, adhuc
graece? Non est hie sermo pudicus / in vetula: quotiens lascivum intervenit illud / zu
kai psuch! modo sub lodice relictis / uteris in turba? Quod enim non excitet inguen /
vox blanda et nequam? Digitos habet. Ut tarnen omnes / subsidant pinnae: dicas haec
mollius Haemo / quamquam et Carpophoro, facies tua computat annos" ("Here are a
few other small quirks, trifling yet intolerable for husbands. What is more rank than
the woman who thinks herself a beauty only if she changes her birthplace from
Tuscany to Greece, from Sulmo to Cecropian Athens? All things must be Greek, as if
it were not much more shameful for our wives to ignore Latin. They fear, get angry,
they rejoice and express their worries and all the secrets of their soul in Greek. They
even make love in Greek. Such a fad can be forgiven to young girls. But you, on whose
door the eighty-sixth year is knocking, you are still using Greek? In an old woman, this
language is shameful. How often intervenes in public your lascivious zo kai psuch,
words you have just uttered underneath the blankets? Indeed, what phallus will not
such an expression excite? It has fingers. No one, however, gets very excited. For, although you may utter these words more alluringly than the actors Haemus or Carpophorus, your face clearly spells out your age"; 11. 184-99).
Ii. "Mulier nempe ipsa videtur, / non persona loqui; vacua et plana omnia dicas /
infra ventriculum et tenui distantia rima"; 11. 95-97.
47
48
but which age will soon make him abandon. After a somewhat lengthy
exordium (818-24) which blames his "complexion difficile" for making
exchange with others notably demanding, Montaigne offers a description of the three "commerces" in question: the company and conversation of "honnestes hommes," the appreciation of pleasurable relations
with beautiful women, and the interaction with books, the only satisfying activity now left the aging man.15 In the exordium, the essay
rebukes the noble ladies who affect to pepper their conversation with
constant allusions to "Platon et Sainct Thomas," and the following
lines of Juvenal's satire against women are called upon: "Hoc sermone
pavent, hoc iram, gaudia, curas, / Hoc cuncta effundunt animi secreta;
quid ultra? / Concumbunt docte." 16 We recognize that the context, in
Juvenal, voices the complaint against the grecophilia of young women
who have taken up a foreign, effeminate, and sophistic tongue ("hoc
sermone") as the privileged vehicle of their intimate effusions and of
their sexual exclamations. Montaigne, however, masks the linguistic
dimension of this irritating penchant for Greek by transforming
Juvenal's graece into docte, a disruption of the original text that actually anticipates one of its latter developments. Indeed, at lines 435-56,
Juvenal himself derides the overly educated "matrona" who, even in
the bedroom ("tibi quae iuncta recumbit," 1. 448) insists upon perfect
syntax and quotes passages from arcane poems. Montaigne thus mobilizes the Latin text for his continuing attacks, familiar to us from "Du
pedantisme" (1.25) and "De l'institution des enfans" (1:26), against
those "regens" whose educational principles, seeking "la tte bien
pleine" instead of "la tte bien faicte," are antithetical to what he considers an "institution" worthy of the French nobility. In these two
early essays, however, the central concern was the education of the
young "gentilhomme," whereas we are now dealing with the pernicious effects of these same "regens" upon the education of women."
The passage at hand echoes "De l'institution des enfans" in subtle
but unmistakable ways, and uses the lines from the satire to shift the:
focus of the debate on education from young men to women. The tex-
tuai trigger of these reminiscences lies in the expression "du son doux et
gracieux du jeu des flutes" (82 r [B] ). Ambiguously, "le son des flutes"
is equated to "le plomb," the ballast necessary to attenuate "tmrit,"
"furie," "ardeur," and "agitation," passionate stances incompatible with
conversational "commerce." More significantly, however, the hollow
channel of the "flute" announces the topical "entonnoir" through
which the despised "regens" pour their drugs ("drogueries," 822 [] )
into the ears of women: "Ils en ont en ce temps entonn si fort les cabinets et oreilles des dames que, si elles n'en ont retenu la substance,
aumoins elles en ont la mine" (822 [B] ). "Entonner" and "entonnoir"
are rare words in the Essais, and the latter is only found in "De l'institution des enfans": "On ne cesse de criailler nos oreilles, comme qui
verser oit dans un antonnoir, et notre charge ce n'est que redire ce qu'on
nous a diet" (1.26.150 [A]). "De trois commerces" thus plies a network of images systematically elaborated in the earlier chapter, whose
introductory movement (1.26.146) contrasts the forever emptying vat
of the Danads, corresponding to the "antonnoir," with "l'troit canal
d'une trompette," the fertile and transformative container reappearing
/here as a flute. T h e Danadian "antonnoir" does not arrest "substance,"
and can alter only the surface or the "mine" of the receiver of "copia."
In "De trois commerces," the negative aspects of the "antonnoir" are
further emphasized by connotations of a violent intrusion, possibly
sexual, into the corporal, social, and ontological space of the women
; the "regens" are attempting to manipulate: naming this intimate space,
oreilles" is paired with "cabinet," a term Cotgrave defines as "a closet,
little chamber, or wardrobe, wherein one keeps his best, or most esteemed, substance." Under "entonnoir" the same Cotgrave lists "entonnoir matrical," "an instrument used for the infusion of medicines
into the matrix; it may be also understood as a P." 18 Montaigne does
call the teachings of the "regens" "drogueries," and hints at an imposed
insemination with "sement leurs livres par tout." T h e scabrous scenarios resulting from the conjunction of "cabinet" and "entonn" thus
^prepare the ground for the appropriation of Juvenal's equally os "concumbunt [graece] docte," "they copulate learnedly," a sentence conjugating sexual activity with educational topics and garishly coloring
the "cabinet" as a zone of erotic transgression.
15. For a traditional reading of the essay, see Glyn P. Norton, " 'De trois commerces'
and Montaigne's Populous Solitude," French Studies 4y (1971): 101-9.
16. 3.3.822(B). "They fear, get angry, they rejoice and express their worries and all.,
the secrets of their soul in that language. They even make love pedantically."
17. "Quand je les vois attaches la rhtorique, la judiciaire, la logique, et
semblables drogueries si vaines et inutiles leur besoing, j'entre en crainte que les
hommes qui le leur conseillent, le facent pour avoir loy de les regenter soubs ce tiltre"
(3.3.822 IB]).
49
f.; \ 18. Randle Cotgrave, A Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, reproduced
from the first edition, London 1611 (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press,
I9J0).
5o
the overly educated wives and their erudite bedroom behavior (11.
458-73)19
In the essay, the reference to the use of alien texts as a cosmetic
adjuvant, while exploiting the typical misogynist strains Juvenal favors, overlaps with the traditional and much used topos "art vs. nature": "Elles cachent et couvrent leurs beautez soubs des beauts
estrangeres . . . elles sont enterres et ensevelies sous l'art. [C] De
capsula totae " The Latin citation, translated by Gummere as "fresh
from the bandbox" and grammatically altered by Montaigne to fit his
text, comes from a letter of Seneca to Lucilius in which the philosopher
assails the "feminine" propensities of young dandies to use cosmetics
both in their excessively elegant speech patterns ("anxium esse verba et
compositionem") and in their obsessive personal grooming ("comptulos iuvenes, barba et coma nitidos"). 20 The word capsula is especially
pleasing to Montaigne because it builds upon "cabinet" and it insists
upon the threatening aspects of the "commerce" between the "regens"
and their ladies. But capsula, here the negative counterpart of the latter
"cabinet," also prefigures the cylindrical, encyclopedic nature of the
"librairie": indeed, capsula, "a small container for books, a small box or
casket," is the diminutive of capsa, "a cylindrical case for holding
books, a receptacle for other items." 21 Although axiologically antithetical, the "capsula/cabinet des dames" which the "regens" infiltrate,
and the "capsula/librairie" are both loci allowing hiding and concealment to occur, where women (and men, if we reflect on the context of
the Senecan epistle) "cachent" and "couvrent," and where Montaigne
himself "se cache" : "Miserable mon gr, qui n'a chez soy o estre soy,
o se faire particulirement la cour, o se cacher" (828 [C] ). This late
addition, adumbrating the motivation of the essayist for his retirement
in the "librairie," mitigates the satirical sting aimed at those women who
rely upon intellectual cosmetics ("drogueries") to engage in the game
of "la montre" taught to them by men. T h e arresting expression "se
51
19. "Interea foeda aspectu ridendaque multo / pane tumet facies aut pinguia Popipaeana / spirat, et hinc miseri viscantur labra mariti" ("Comical, hideous to behold, her
race is swollen with a concocture of bread crumb and stinking 'Poppaea pomade,'
and the poor husband's Hps become viscous"; 11. 461-3).
20. Seneca, Ad Luciliwn epistulae morales, trans. Richard M. Gummere (London:
; William Heinemann, 1925), letter 115, pp. 318-21. This epistle is an extension of letter
.'"4 a famous text positing that literary style is a mirror of character.
21. Oxford Latin Dictionary, ed. P. G. W. Glare (Oxford: Clarendon, 1982). See
also Tom Conley, "De Capsula Totae: Lecture de Montaigne, T)e trois commerces',"
VEsprk crateur 28 (1988): 18-26. This great essay makes of the capsula "une bote
pe Pandore" and of Montaigne's "cabinet" the box of a jack-in-the-box.
52
22. See, for one example among many, the developments at the beginning of 3.5,
where the "je" is courting "l'esprit" lest it follow too closely the inclinations of the
body: "Je luy conseille . . . je le flatte part, je le practique pour nant" (844.B]).
Significantly, books (Seneca and Catullus) serve the essayist as persuasive weapons.^
23. In his Lectures de Montaigne (Lexington, Kentucky: French Forum, 1982), Jules
Brody details the procedures of a philological reading. "De trois commerces" offers
ample grounds for such an approach: "estouffer" entails "toffe," which links up with
"voile" in the expression "car mon aller n'est pas naturel s'il n'est pleine voile"
(33.82[]), itself announcing "ensevelies"
53
i.
in the lines from the De rerum natura ushering in the passage of Virgil:
"Tu, Dea, tu rerum naturam sola gubernas, / Nec sine te quicquam
dias in luminis oras / exoritur" (3.5.848[B]). 28 The goddess is the
numinous agent insuring the birth of "res" into the world, birth understood as an acquisition of visual tangibility or "evidence." It is Venus
who provides the female "clart," the "lumiere" and the "luire" which
are the natural attributes of female beauty in "De trois commerces."
Arising from the same context in Juvenal's satire as "concumbunt
docte," the sentence "Et versus digitos habet" reinforces the sexual
dimensions of an education or a literary composition undertaken under
the sign of both Venus and the Muses. The Latin maxim epideictically
naming verse appears in the essay in a context still suffused with the
goddess's divine light:
54
25. "Still burning with the lust of her fierce vulva, she leaves, tired of men though
not yet satiated" (11. 129-30).
26. Mary B. McKinley, in her " 'Salle/Cabinet': Literature and Self-Disclosure in
'Sur des vers de Virgile'," in Columbia Montaigne Conference Papers, ed. Donald
Frame and Mary McKinley (Lexington, Kentucky: French Foruin, 1981), 84-104, uses
the opposition between "sale" and "cabinet" as the organizational axis of her presentation.
27. In 1571, Montaigne had a Latin inscription painted on the walls of the "librairie"
explaining that he has retired from the world and taken refuge "au sein des doctes
vierges": "dum se interger in doctarum virginum recessit sinus."
55
57
has Plutarch assert that the Latin language is superior because it entertains a necessary relationship between itself and the "things" it
conveys. In the Latin Montaigne claims as his "langue maternelle"
(1.26.175 [A]), "parolles," which, in his nominalist perspective, are
ghostly, insubstantial wind, do not produce sense.30 On the contrary, a substratum of "res" lies underneath the linguistic cover and
gives it consistency, light ("le sens esclaire"), and flesh ("cher et os"),
a presence graspable by both the eyes and the fingers of the reader.
Montaigne's Plutarch thus celebrates the linguistic and stylistic virtue
that ancient and Renaissance criticism knows as energie, a technical
term surfacing two paragraphs later (874]), and a word occurring
only once in the Essais. Energie dispels "l'arbitraire du signe" and creates a motivated relation between verba and res. As is well known,
energie, the equivalent of actio, seldom occurs without simultaneously
implying its doublet, enargie, in Latin evidentia or illustration1 Clearly,
both of these closely related terms are present in the technical (stylistic) discourse of the essay, which constantly links the "flesh and bone"
quality of outstanding texts with their ability to create an illumination,
an ineffable effect (cf. Montaigne's "je ne say quel air plus amoureux
que l'amour mesme"), a heightening of "the real."
When we glance back at the original passage of the satire, what
; Montaigne would call the "nation" whence he borrows (2.10.408 [C] ),
; we immediately realize that the words "et versus" are an addition of
the essayist's, and that the only two words the context provides are
"digitos habet." As we know, Juvenal reluctantly condones excessive
fondness for Greek when it can be ascribed to the temporary infatuation of "puellae." However, when an octogenarian "vetula" insists on
the same erotic use of the alien language, he roundly condemns the
habit:
But you, on whose door the eighty-sixth year is knocking, you are
still using Greek? In an old woman, this language is shameful
("non pudicus est"). H o w often intervenes in public your lascivious ("lascivum") zo kai psych, words you have just uttered
underneath the blankets ("sub lodice")? Indeed, what phallus
30. The best extensive treatment of nominalist thinking in Montaigne is Antoine
Compagnon, Nous, Michel de Montaigne (Paris: Seuil, 1980).
31. A valuable discussion of the energeia / enargeia complex appears in Glyn Nor-
ton's The Ideology and Language of Translation in Renaissance France (Geneva: Droz,
1984), in the chapter entitled "The Translative Energies of the Word," 259-322. See
also Cave, The Comucopian Text, 27-30.
58
Juvenal recognizes the erotic power of this use of Greek, and bluntly
describes its effects. Towards the end of "Sur des vers de Virgile,"
Montaigne, surely haunted by the graphic nature of the image, uses part
of an epigram of Martial to describe a type of sexual foreplay similar
to the one the satire hints at metaphorically.32 "Et versus," Montaigne's
own addition, fulfills the same prosodie function as the words it replaces in the original line, and the new phrase mimics perfectly a segment of Latin verse. The intervention of the essayist tactfully erases
from the original text that most potent of words, "inguen," for he ex-%
pects that the reader familiar with the satire will evoke the phallus and
derive pleasure from the mischieviously subtle latency of the sexual
connotations. When we pay attention to Montaigne's bricolage and
take the import of the original context seriously, "versus" hides the
term "vox" behind or underneath itself, the "vox" of an old woman
trying to allure a potential lover "sub lodice," underneath the blanket.
"Versus," the counterpart of the massaging "vox," thus entertains a
direct relationship with "l'action genitale . . . si naturelle, si ncessaire,
si juste" (847 [B] ). Yet the subtlety of the allusion to the "inguen," the
devious steps the reader must take in order to recover and enjoy it,
makes the discourse of the essay conform to the norm of custom: it
refuses to use a frankly sexual vocabulary, and resorts to an elaborate
periphrastic method (cf. "periphrase," 847 [B]).
In "De l'institution des enfans," Montaigne indicates how he conceives of his adaptations of foreign texts to his own fabric: "Je tors
bien plus volontiers une bonne sentence pour la coudre sur moy, que
je ne tors mon fil pour l'aller qurir" (1.26.171 [C] ). The particular
"torsion" at work here involves both a partial rewriting and a sustained
reflection on the value of the "sentence" in its "nation." What is striking and outrageous in Juvenal's assertions about the "vetula" is a total
disregard for physiological fact: the satirist's misogyny induces him to
discover prurient interests in women of the most advanced age, and he
creates a deliberately grotesque image of sexuality at the threshold of
32. At 3.5.886[B]: "Experta latus, madidoque sxmillima loro / Inguina, nec lassa
stare coacta manu, / Deserit imbelles thalamos" ("She, testing out their intimate company and their genitals, most like a wet noodle yet never tired to stand up under her
urging hand, finally leaves these effeminate bouts"; Martial 7.58.
59
6o
34. This transformation occurs within the final citation, from Catullus's Poem 65.
61
35. For a recent treatment of Montaigne's intimate psychological and cultural bonds
to Latin, see Floyd Gray, Montaigne bilingue: Le Latin des "Essais", Etudes mon; taignistes 7 (Paris: Honor Champion, 1991).
the clouds." In his close association of the Juvenalian maxim and the
text of Virgil, Montaigne is conceptually rhyming digitos with rima-,
this collage of texts greatly emphasizes the fiery cleft, the rhyme uniting
man and woman is sexual embrace. As a further "subtilit ambitieuse,"
we will recall that the same rima, a periphrasis for cunnus, appears in
Satire 3 of Juvenal, an attack against Greek actors who play women's
roles so well that they lose their masculinity, "for, below the belt, is
only a small crack [tenui distantia rima]" (I. 97).38
As the focal point of Montaigne's virtuosic intertextual productions,
rvma concentrates a remarkable number of the topoi the essay displays.
It operates as a key term both in a discussion of linguistic capabilities
and in an unveiling of the primordial power of sexuality, especially
when the term inguen lurks in the allusive background. In a corroboration of Cave's and Kritzman's insights, sex and language are inextricably
entertwined in the flash of light (enargeia) presiding over the embrace
of Virgil's divine protagonists, and the reader is left aghast by the
supernatural "je ne sais quoi" inhabiting the words of the poet. However, in this chapter, which insists on defying a taboo and on (almost)
frankly naming the sexual organs (the phallus as "membre inobedient et
tyrannique" and the vagina as "un animal glouton et avide"; 859 [C] ),
the passage that so skillfully weds the Juvenalian sententia to the
verses it introduces obeys the aesthetic prescriptions of restraint in
naming. It veils the obvious in order to tantalize and allure, applying
a strategy in which intertextual commerce acts as the blanket we find
in Juvenal's original text ("these words are better left under the blanket [sub lodice]," 1. 195). As twentieth-century readers less familiar
with both Juvenal and Virgil, we have to reconstruct consciously and
elaborately what the essayist, at the precise instant he is writing, takes
for the spontaneously granted response of a literate and "sufficient"
reader. But the fact remains that rima, hidden in the midst of a metaphor the Montaignian context exploits and extends, and inguen, revealed only by reference to the original text, draw their erotic spell
because they, as sexual organs, both appear and disappear. In this re-
02
36. For this polemic see Kees Meerhof's erudite Rhtorique et potique au XVIe
37. Dejfense 2.7, "De la rhythme et des vers sans rhythme." and 2.8, "De ce mot
rhytme, de l'invention des vers rymez, et de quelques autres antiquitez usites en notre
langue." See the excellent analysis of Meerhoff, Rhtorique et potique, 109-34.
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38. The bilingual pun on "rime," a poetic device in French and the female sexual
organs in Latin, is fully substantiated later in the essay (888-89[C]), when Montaigne
tas about the sexually explicit "rime" or poetic production of a churchman, Thodore
de Bze. To pleasantly illustrate his point, the essayist produces a small cento, made up
of one line of De Bze's Juvenalia and one of St. Gelais: "Rimula, dispeream, ni monogramma tua est. / Un vit d'amy la contente et bien traicte." What the "vit d'amy"
satisfies is the "rimula" ("little crack"), whose identity is, interestingly, equated to a
"monogramma," a Greek neologism referring to a written character used as signature:
"May I die, if your rimula is not your monogram."
64
spect, the essay's collage is superior to, for instance, the raw descriptions of Martial or Ovid, which, Montaigne writes, do not arouse but
castrate him ("chaponnent," 880[B]) as a reader of erotic texts. Prefiguring Roland Barthes, the essayist recognizes t h a t ' T endroit le plus
erotique [c'est l] o le vtement baille . . . c'est l'intermittence . . .
celle de la peau qui scintille entre deux p i c e s . . . c'est ce scintillement
mme qui sduit, ou encore: la mise en scne d'une apparition-disparition." 39 In the essay, the "scintillement," the intermittent flash,
appears in the epithets attached to the "rima" ("ignea rima micans"),
and Montaigne states that apparition-disparition is an essential phenomenological ingredient of the erotic, the sacred (the interactions
of Venus, Vulcan, and Mars in effect hearken to a preternatural;
realm) and the artistic spheres of experience: "Les vers de ces deux
potes [Lucretius and Virgil], traitant ainsi reservement et discret-i
tement de la lascivet comme ils font, me semblent la descouvrir et
esclairer de plus pres. Les dames couvrent leur sein d'un reseu, les
prestres plusieurs choses sacres; les peintres ombragent leur ouvrage,
pour luy donner plus de lustre" (3.5.88o[B]).In these assertions, the
necessary counterpart to enargeia ("esclairer," "lustre") is an obscurity, a shadow or a concealment ("discrettement," "couvrent,"
"ombragent"), which paradoxically heightens the evidential or illuminative effect. Light requires a furtive maneuver to manifest itself fully,
and Montaigne sententially concludes: "Et l'action et la peinture
[energeia/enargeia] doivent sentir le larrecin" (880[B]).
IV. "Emprunt" and self-portrait
T h e mention of "peinture," whenever it surfaces in the essays, functions as a "mise en abyme" of the overarching project, the painting of
the self-portrait. Moreover, when "peinture" is associated with "larrecin" (thievery or plagiarism), one of the fundamental dimensions of
the self-portrait asks for scrutiny. "Le larrecin," as Montaigne repeatedly proclaims (e.g. 1.26.147[C], 3.i2.i056[B]) is a main feature of
his compositional strategy, and it is a synonym for the type of "emprunt" or borrowing he constantly practices. The "librairie" and its
"cabinet" are the privileged physical spacesduly eroticized, as we
have seenwhere these thefts occur. As a conclusion to this study, I
would like to contend that the problem of the emprunt, something that
centrally worries Montaigne and elicits from him a series of often con39. Roland Barthes, Le Plaisir du texte (Paris: Seuil, 1973), 19.
65
tradictory justifications, rejoins two of the dichotomies we have encountered in our discussion: the doublets apparition/disparition and
art/nature. Montaigne's reading and rewriting of Juvenal acts as an
exemplary emprunt, forcing the reader to theoretically reflect upon a
writing practice typical of the sixteenth century, whose modes of literary production were still self-consciously imitative or emulative.
As Antoine Compagnon has pointed out in his excellent diachronic
analysis of citation, Montaigne's emprunts are "a hybrid mixture of
citation of authorities and of quotation; he uses them by turns." 40 Citation ("allgation"), according to Compagnon's classification, is typical
of the scholastic culture of auctoritas, whereby any text is totally subservient to its unquestionably superior predecessors, e.g. the Bible, the
Fathers of the Church, or Aristotle. Quotation, on the other hand,
properly belongs to the modern realm of the subject (the seventeenth
century and after), which totally appropriates the quoted text and is
interested only in its immobilization as an expression of the writer or
reader's "self." The emprunt of Juvenal in the two essays in question
clearly illustrates Compagnon's theses. Immediately noticeable is an
irreverence toward the ontological integrity of the ancient Latin text:
Montaigne takes liberties, changes words and adds his own, exercising
a subjective prerogative geared toward the polished composition of
the self-portrait. A hypothetical reader totally ignorant of the classics
yet well versed in Latin would find the Latin fragments to be fully
congruent with the development of Montaigne's arguments, participating seamlessly in both the syntagmatic and paradigmatic unfolding
of the French text, this down to imagistic and semantic detail. We
have discussed, however, how the original context also comes into play:
a glance at the satire establishes a host of thematic and semantic links
proving that the essayist understands perfectly the function of the
fragment within its initial whole. In his own text, Montaigne clearly
inscribes his reading of, if not the whole satire, at least major stretches
of it, and the traces of this exposure collaborate further in the fleshing
out of the essay. This aspect of emprunt therefore captures many of
the semantic dimensions of allgation, whose derivation (ad-legare)
implies that the essayist is sending, delegating the reader to the original
locus for consultation and transaction.41 It is therefore the responsi40. Antoine Compagnon, La Seconde Main (Paris: Seuil, 1979), 283.
(Paris: Klincksieck, 1985), 350. For a perceptive diachronic study of readers' understanding of this invitation to examine the original context of citations, see Christine M.
bility of the "diligent lecteur" to smell out and to weigh the theft,
"sentir le larrecin," and to understand how Montaigne has naturalized
in his own text what was a "naturel usage" (3.12.1056]) in the
original.
An important development of "De la phisionomie" (3.12.1055-56)
suggests that the worrisome necessity of emprunt belongs to the nature
vs. art syndrome and parallels that other important theoretical coupling,
apparition-disparition: "Parmy tant d'emprunts, je suis bien aise d'en
pouvoir desrober quelqu'un, les desguisants et difformant nouveau
service" ( 1056 [C] ). Desrober, desguiser, and difformer are terms central to a situation whereby the writer, in his attempt to recreate a
natural usage for his borrowings, gives them "some particular turn of
the hand, that they might be less purely foreign" ("quelque particulire
adresse de [sa] main ce qu'ils en soient d'autant moins purement
estrangers"; 1056 [C] ). The manual dexterity of the essayist, his artistry
or artifice, is responsible for the natural effect he aims at, a goal he proclaims by calling himself a "naturaliste": "Nous autres naturalistes
estimons qu'il y aie grande et incomparable preferance de l'honneur de
l'invention l'honneur de l'allgation" (io50[C]). This statement,
sounding like an artistic credo, applies the rhetorical term invention
(which, with important reservations, we could translate as "originality") to the naturalization of foreign texts, their seamless inclusion in
the French product. Allegation, on the other hand, is here a term of
abuse hurled at those writers who stuff their volumes with "fagots de
provisions incognucs" ( 105[C] ), dead wood, bundles of quotations
whose "naturel usage" they have not made the effort to perceive.
Within the context of an essay whose very title announces a meditation
on the struggle between art and nature ("phisionomie" = physis vs.
nomos) f "allegations" thus fall in the category of "fard" and "farder,"
cosmetic invasion of a natural surface, an affectation Socrates, a few
pages earlier, is said to reject: "Et sa riche et puissante nature eust elle
commis l'art sa dfense, et en son plus haut essay renonc la vrit
et nafvet, ornements de son parler, pour se parer du fard des figures
et feintes d'une oraison apprinse?" (1054PB]). Montaigne, a skeptical
or "downgraded" version of Socrates, also tests his being through essais.
However, as a belated writer he must abide by the tremendous con-
66
Brousseau-Beuermann, La Copie de Montaigne: Etude sur les citations dans les "Essais",
67
Renaissance (Paris: Nizet, 1990) , 75. This book takes seriously the visual metaphors
present in se peindre, dessiner, ombre, clart, and voile, and it sometimes relates them,
as I do, to the use of foreign texts in the essays (63-67). One of its most fascinating
aspects is the relationship Blanchard discovers between portraits produced in the
sixteenth century and the vocabulary Montaigne uses to describe his own, metaphorically painterly enterprise (73-89). The third chapter, "Poppe voile" (203-72), is quite
relevant to the apparition-disparition dichotomy I find crucial here.