La Rochefoucauld's Maximes Morales

2024-08-07 @Literature

1660s Paris. Louis XIV. Moliere’s theatre at its summit. And Francois de La Rochefoucauld compiles a sizable outfit of philosophical maxims, five hundred and four of which would fill the final edition.

Most, fairly terse and to the point. A sentence or two. Some span a longer paragraph; a few, the length of an essay, particularly the last.

Thus I read a purely non-fiction work, somewhat of a rarity in recent years should we not count those Borges essays or Swift’s incredibly bizarre Modest Proposal.

While La Rochefoucauld seeks to depict the superficial ranks of Parisian contemporary society just as Moliere’s comedies, the morals extend across all habitable dimension as far as I’m concerned.

La Rochefoucauld addresses universal topics: false virtues, hypocrisy, laziness, jealousy, vanity, pride, passion, spirit, humour, temper, fortune, death, among others.

Something in the moral framework reminded me of Montaigne’s essays, the difference being, in the case of Montaigne, the sheer length and the astronomical abundance of allusions to antiquity; while La Rochefoucauld coughs up a terse aphorism, leaving the reader to ruminate.

Thus I ruminated over roughly a month and a half, each maxim/aphorism numerously reread, transposed, deconstructed, analyzed, cross-referenced … That is, I grossly exaggerate. But maybe a couple of those steps per each, if even.

Though it did consume a hell of a long time. While French prose generally reads far quicker, the conciseness and weight of each semantic unit demanded the most diligent of efforts.

It goes to say, nothing, absolutely nothing of these maxims attains the slightest novelty; nothing that has not or will not have been stated or alluded to thousands of times in these or other words.

Read your philosopher, moralist, essayist of choice among the ancients, the renaissance, the enlightenment or the more recent. Some of La Rochefoucauld inspires from Seneca to Dante. Some anticipates Ayn Rand.

The aphorism format in French peaked my interest at the particular moment. And five hundred and four seemed a solid quantity close to a power of two. La Rochefoucauld nearly immortalized his fame.

Many of the maxims so powerfully reverberate that I’d consider worthy of tattooing: in Hebrew/Arabic/Persian script, naturally, to inspire sagesse. Were they poems, I’d say memorize verbatim.

For instance:

But I wouldn’t have more of it. Merely a one-time curiosity to gauge my own spirit for this sort of writing propelled me. At the end, I was left as convictionless as prior: opting to embellish the incidental lofty aphorism with an unnecessarily lengthy write-up full of bizarre diversion.

On which note, while in Vilnius, the Belorussian Cultural Center librarian gifted me a collection of similarly insightful aphorisms produced by some modern Belorussian pen unknown to me. (Wisdom neither ages nor matures.) Indeed intrigued, the hefty binding rendered the possession impractical for my austere travel footprint. So I regifted, though not without moral scruple.

Questions, comments? Connect.