Reflecting on humanist philosophers of antiquity, in the 1850s French writer Gustave Flaubert observed: “Just when the gods had ceased to be, and the Christ was yet to come, there was a unique moment in history between Cicero and Marcus Aurelius when man stood alone. Nowhere else do I find such grandeur.” Grandeur indeed!
Acclaimed author and historian Sarah Bakewell puts her stamp on things in tracing challenges to the established order – in particular in context of humankind’s capacity to self-regulate in matters of ethics, morality and compassion. In her new book, if focused on “post-Dark Ages” advancement, the author isn’t shy in drawing the aforementioned Cicero into the narrative. Noteworthy is a balanced appraisal acknowledging that religiosity and humanism weren’t always mutually exclusive, notwithstanding which, declaring herself a “non-believing humanist”, she resolutely explores avenues where reason and faith diverge. The difference presents, in a word, in prioritising the pursuit of happiness and a sense of worldly ethical purpose over proclaimed mortal unworthiness and, our sins forgiven, the promise of eternal life.
[ Montaigne's maxim? Don't worry, be happyOpens in new window ]
This exploration is chronicled in engaging and detailed case studies profiling a who’s who of Renaissance to modern-day humanists from Petrarch to Bertrand Russell. Pride of place is reserved for French man Montaigne, “one of the greatest humanists of history”, who paved the way, and, in turn, for English man Darwin who drew inspiration from the ideals of the 18th century European Enlightenment, which challenged Biblical bragging rights vis-a-vis “revelation” and the origins and meaning of life. If Darwin lords it over humanist cognoscenti, Montaigne is Bakewell’s go-to essayist. She has previous. In 2010 she introduced this quirky, under-the-radar 16th-century accidental philosopher to a waiting world. Her biography How to Live? A Life of Montaigne is at once eclectic and eccentric. Humanists, a heterogenous demographic in search of a slogan, might opportunely draw inspiration from a Montaigne mantra: “let life be its own answer”.
Humanly Possible presents as a treasure trove of free-thinker challenges to received wisdom on the part of men and women who cared about the here and now, and about one another. If humanists will rejoice in the affirmation that permeates this intellectual, philosophical, scholarly tour-de-force, floating agnostics may draw inspiration, comfort and meaning. As for others? God knows.
