On Montaigne and Orwell

Heraclitus, an incredibly smart (and obviously very observant) scholar who lived in the 5^th century BC, once said that “there is nothing permanent except change.” A millennium and half after his death, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist, geophysicist, or Mensa member to realize that Heraclitus’ observation is still true. Everything and everyone, at some point or another, no matter what one does, is subject to change. Creative Nonfiction, like everything else in this world, is also subject to change. In a previous reading, the essayist Bret Lott mentioned that Michel de Montaigne, the 16^th century French statesman and writer, was the forerunner, if not the inventor, of Creative Nonfiction. But after reading Montaigne’s “That Men Should Not Judge of our Happiness till after our Death,” the casual observer might have trouble believing in what Lott said about the Frenchman. If one is only used to contemporary works of creative nonfiction, Montaigne’s piece would seem almost completely alien especially if it was read aloud. However, this disconnect between the works of the “inventor” of creative nonfiction and the works of contemporary CNF authors like Joan Didion and Jamaica Kinkaid, is merely the product of several hundred years of change. Writing styles change, meaning of words also change, even the most rigid conventions of writing eventually change over several hundreds of years. Nonetheless, upon closer inspection, there are several elements of this particular Montaigne piece that has filtered through time. Take for example Montaigne’s rumination halfway through “That Men Should Not Judge.” It is somewhat similar to the kinds of reflection contemporary CNF authors use in their works. Even Bret Lott’s “Toward a Definition of Creative Nonfiction” has some ties to Montaigne’s work. Lott’s use of ancient and not so ancient writers as examples in his work is quite reminiscent of Montaigne’s penchant for quoting and referring to classical writers like Plutarch and Lucretius.

Assuming that we all agree with Lott’s claim that Montaigne is the forerunner of creative nonfiction (I agree with Lott, but what do I know?), it doesn’t take too long for the sound and appearance of creative nonfiction to change (what’s a few hundreds in the grand scheme of things anyway?). By the time George Orwell wrote “Shooting an Elephant” in 1936, creative nonfiction (or personal essays) has changed dramatically. Writing styles changed, meanings of words have changed, and the most rigid conventions of writing have also changed, thus resulting in a very different product. Unlike in the time of Montaigne where personal reflection was thought of as detrimental to the proper style of writing, personal reflection in the 20^th and 21^st century was and is quite common and accepted (at least in essays, never in scholarly works). Orwell’s “Shooting an Elephant” resembles contemporary creative nonfiction in many different ways. Obviously, the element of self-reflection present in this particular work. How can one be more self-reflective than recalling and analyzing one’s past experiences? Also, the tone of the piece is simple but very descriptive, similar to more recent works like Kinkaid’s “Biography of Dress.” Anyone who has read about anti-colonialism in the former British Empire knows that Orwell was one of the staunchest proponents of the movement. In this essay, Orwell uses his personal recollection of an event in his life as a vehicle to share his revelations about evils of tyranny and colonialism much like how Kinkaid used snippets of childhood memories to share who her mother was in relation to her as a two year old.