A Dialogue in The Open Space: Speaking with Michel de Montaigne
Tom: Michel, welcome. It is an honor to share this quiet room with you. I return often to your Essays and your Travel Journal. One question, above all, stays with me: Que sais-je? —What do I know? In an age where so many seem certain of everything and tolerant of little, how should we approach knowledge?
Montaigne: You honor me by asking, though I confess I have always trusted questions more than answers. Que sais-je? was never a clever phrase. It was simply the truest thing I knew.
I learned that certainty often belongs to those who have examined themselves the least. Hold your opinions with affection, but not possession. Read widely. Listen carefully. Be willing to change your mind. We owe one another that much.
Tom: I've tried to make this website a kind of mental clearing—a place away from the noise, where ideas can breathe. Yet I still find myself attached to certain beliefs about what makes a good life. You withdrew to your tower. I've built something more open, more public. Is solitude still necessary for reflection?
Montaigne: Solitude has never meant escaping the world. It means creating enough quiet to hear your own thoughts before the world's opinions drown them out.
Your Open Space strikes me as another sort of tower. Others may enter, but you remain responsible for its character. Guard it from distraction. The mind, like the body, benefits from moments of rest.
And do not fear making your reflections public. I published my essays knowing they revealed my inconsistencies as much as my convictions. Honesty matters more than perfection.
Tom: One last question. Your friendship with Étienne de La Boétie shaped your life. Many people today feel surrounded by connections yet hungry for genuine companionship. What would you say to us?
Montaigne: True friendship is one of life's rarest gifts. It cannot be manufactured, only recognized when it arrives.
Loss reminds us that nothing we love is permanent. That is reason enough to cherish it while we can—not reason to close ourselves against future friendships. Leave the door open. Fortune has a habit of surprising us.
As for me, I have enjoyed our conversation. Remember, you needn't summon me from the dead again. Open the book, and we shall simply continue where we left off.
Tom: Then I'll leave the other chair waiting.
