The Gift of Solitude: A “Voyage” Beyond the “Black Cares” of the World

“In spite of his solitary life, or rather because of it, his time was completely filled up.”

— Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy

    Xavier de Maistre’s Voyage Around my Room responds to Blaise Pascal’s view of boredom as the root of man’s misery (“le malheur des hommes vient...de ne savoir demeurer en repos dans une chambre”) and breathes revolution into Michel de Montaigne’s hidden asylum, an immaterial space for and within oneself, which “no harm can corrupt... save we ourselves” (Montaigne 100). This paper argues Voyage Around My Room is a didactic work that frees what Montaigne’s “On Solitude” describes as “happiness [that is] a slave in the power of others” (Montaigne 102). Voyage Around My Room prescribes a mechanism of defense; a faculty hidden by layers of social obstructions and revealed uniquely by looking inwards—the human imagination. For the subjects of the French Revolution, De Maistre’s novel serves as an escape from the unpredictable turmoil of the immediate environment: “a sure antidote to boredom and a palliative to their ills” (de Maistre 14). Similarly, Montaigne argues that relocation and travel is unnecessary to isolate our “self” and “take [it] back into possession” (Montaigne 99). For the two writers, solitude fosters the conditions necessary to develop an infallible sense of self that neither fate nor external influence can scathe: the ultimate freedom from the turbulent and unruly world that brings them to a state of contentment.

    The separation of oneself from society is a point de depart for introspective study. After retiring from office in 1571, Michel de Montaigne retreated chez-soi and devoted the remainder of his life to studying and composing a collection of Essays. Each individual contribution attempts to reflect upon a subject of intrigue—the ethics of cannibalism, succinct educational methodologies, the question of cowardice—and reconcile himself with the meaning of life and death. Xavier de Maistre’s experimental Voyage, a 42-day fictional travelogue within the parameters of a small and unfamiliar room, describes confinement as a means of escaping the unpredictable nature of the French Revolution. For both authors, to engage in solitude is to discover and remove what Jean-Paul Sartre describes as “l’enfer, c’est les autres” and respond to Blaise Pascal’s Pensées, in which the French philosopher argues restlessness is the origin of man’s unhappiness. For Pascal, the human condition is terrified of facing its own complete, isolated self—mankind is unable to confront the ennui of the mind. The individual spends their life “hunting” for distractions, indulging in an unsustainable Epicurean lifestyle of material pleasures, to avoid the uncomfortable confrontation with the bored self; among the lavish balls of higher society “one encounters... some more bored than I” ((Haugen 6; De Maistre 50). Although de Maistre and Montaigne subscribe to Pascal’s universal condition, Voyage and “On Solitude” redefine the experience of solitude as a privileged enterprise that makes room for a unique type of travel accessible to everyone regardless of status, location, or age. The only prerequisite for the liberating voyage is to depart from society and into physical isolation.

    The act of confinement removes external stimuli and makes room for a boundless realm for the mind wander and explore, quenching the boredom and satiating the needs of the soul. Paradoxically, restraining an individual’s physical freedom gives rise to a new freedom in the infinite, self-stimulated realm of the imagination (Haugen 7). In a way, Pascal’s hunt for diversions is better executed in the confines of solitude: de Maistre wanders from “the limits of the universe, to the very portals of chaos” (De Maistre 60). The faculties of the mind are completely void of material obstacles as the individual is no longer at the mercy of “the elements or the seasons” and is safe from “bandits,” and “precipices or holes in the road” (15). True agency is unattainable in a world where the customs, actions, and decisions of others guide the fate and destiny of the singular individual. De Maistre incorporates metaliterary devices across Voyage to speak directly to the reader, such as referring to reader with second-person personal pronouns, to illustrate the oppressive existence within the material realm: “you are oppressed and tyrannized; you are unhappy; you are bored” (53). In the final entry of the 42-day voyage of isolation, de Maistre argues the return of his bodily freedoms is no longer a cause for celebration. To regain his physical freedoms, he must exchange the realm designed by and for the total satiation of his person for one that is imperfect, taxing, and dehumanising. His hyperbolic prose describes freedom in the physical sense—along with the capacity to allocate and deny an individual of it—as a comical, silly, and powerless construct of society, distinct from the superior and self-satisfying imagination: “as if they had taken it away...as if it were in their power to steal [my freedom] and prevent me from traveling[!]” (76). Returning to society demands a surrender to solitude and to the imagination, both of which are a product of an active isolation from external influences. As such, reunification with society is a cause for lament for de Maistre. The revocable freedom, or the “new and dangerous captivity,” removes the narrator from the pleasant confines of the room where “the entire universe: infinity and eternity are at my command” (76).

    The practice of solitude instills a unique indifference to matters apart from the self and operates as a mechanism of defense against the volatile world. In “On Solitude” Montaigne mentions Greek philosopher Stilpo of Megara who, after losing his homeland, family, and possessions to a fire, stated that he suffered no bodily harm and there had lost nothing of his—the self is physically “unsinkable” (Montaigne 100). The relationship between the fragile world and the interiority of the individual is further illustrated by Montaigne’s arrière-boutique. He argues one must distribute all external associations, such as the family, possessions, and society, between the many metaphorical rooms of their mansion-like mind. However, the owner should “set aside a room... entirely free and [establish] there our true liberty” (100). In this impenetrable bunker, the soul—now void of external anomalies and therefore anxieties—acquires total agency over the self and learns to keep itself company: “in lonely places, be a crowd unto yourself” (100). The room is invincible, untouchable by potential house-fires that may damage the house, because space itself is a self-satisfying product: “withdraw into yourself, but first prepare yourself to welcome yourself there” (107). It is for this reason that the entirety of de Maistre’s Voyage occurs in a private space free of onlookers. The room serves as an escape from the distressing consequences of the revolution: “Happy is the man who can find a friend... who prefers the shade of a tree to the pomp of a court” (De Maistre 38). Although de Maistre was forced into solitary confinement, he states the voyage itself was planned prior to the events of the narrative: “This forced retreat was simply an opportunity to set out a bit sooner” (50). Each entry further explains how he preserved and asserted authority over himself, shielding the mind from his restless nature, which is fostered by the external, by constructing a space of repose in the wake of a troubled world. In other words, de Maistre’s imaginary voyage took place in the most ideal expression of Montaigne’s arrière-boutique.

    The ultimate desire of the ambitious individual is identical to that of the private; however, the solitary life more completely and more easily paves a path for the private individual to reach the common objective. All men desire infinite happiness and fulfillment, but a reliance on the thoughts, actions, and opinions of others will fail to produce any substantial progress (Gillespie 154). De Maistre’s dispute over a matter of honour is what led to his confinement and loss of societal privileges, albeit the intended punishment took the shape of a pleasant Voyage. Rather than gaining glory, valour, recognition, or contentment from the duel, de Maistre was stripped of power and ruled as guilty by local authorities for “a heroism no longer known today” (De Maistre 41). However, the narrator states that a short voyage within the mind “will show [man] the way” against “the sorrows inherent in human nature” (De Maistre 24). Ultimately de Maistre’s eudaimonia was secured by “remaining quietly and contentedly at home,” not by striving for its unsatiating derivatives: honour and victory, that depend on the opinions of others (Gillespie 155). In “On Solitude” Montaigne argues although man is a born as member of the public (“sociable by this nature”), a life of servitude and interdependence is an unnatural and endless pursuit that malnourishes the soul: “reputation and glory, the most useless, vain and counterfeit coinage in circulation” (97, 101). Instead, one should turn their soul inwards to discover “the bonds which tie us to others” and recover the “power over ourselves to live... alone... in contentment” (99). The practice of solitude described by both Montaigne and de Maistre demands only simple and accessible prerequisites: “[solitude] depends not on one’s material circumstance” (De Maistre 14). For Montaigne, travel or physical relocation of any kind distracts the individual from looking inwards: the inner self is the only familiar in foreign realm (Montaigne 98). New space forced one to depend on the external and oppose self-reflection— “what fugitive from his foreign land can flee from himself?”—the latter of which Blaise Pascal argued man tends to avoid (Montaigne 98). By isolating both the body and the mind from diversion, one will securely, and safely discern the needs of the soul, satiate its gaps, and reach un état de contentment: “Nothing can stop us” (De Maistre 16).

    Since fate and influences external to the self “belong to the accidental,” the decision to isolate and engage in solitude must be a conscious and deliberate exercise of free will (Todorov and Saint-Amand 131). Montaigne withdrew from society for the greater good of both himself, to prepare for death, and notably for the good of society. For de Maistre and Montaigne, time spent on a shared cause is of lesser importance than time invested in the fortification and exploration of the self. The faculties generated by the former are not for benefit of the individual, but “for those to whom they enslave themselves” (Todorov and Saint-Amand 133). Montaigne’s retreat to the family estate “split [his] knots with society” and removed the burden of his unprofitable person, allowing society to prosper and his being to flourish (Montaigne 102). In Voyage, de Maistre uses his 42-day expanse of time for pursuing independence and self- exploration, no longer “[losing] time for pleasure, while gaining none for wisdom” when satisfying the desires of others (De Maistre 16). According to German author Hugo Fredrich, there is a rhythmic rapport between “solitude and society,” with the former being a natural consequence of an extended presence in society (Heck 96). The Essays describe human relations in purely commercial terms, the value of which may be exhausted by old age when “we can contribute nothing [back] to it” (Todorov and Saint-Amand 132). To reap the benefits of solitude, de Maistre had to differentiate between the power of the external, those who ruled him as guilty, and his own agency, which facilitated a voyage independent of the 42-day house arrest. “We have lived quite enough for others: let us live ... life for ourselves,” writes Montaigne, who has yet to furnish his mansion-mind to his taste, as it was forever ordained to the preference of others (Montaigne 101). Following the loss of his home due to the French Revolution, de Maistre perceives property as an abstract construct “exposed to all the perils of war” that shall no longer be of relevance (De Maistre 38). To reap the fruits of solitude the individual must believe the external to be of lesser value than the internal. Voyage associates the “soldiers,” “scaling mountain upon mountain,” and “the cannon blast” with danger, something that hinders existence—“there is no more peace on this unhappy earth” (De Maistre 41). This truth is clear to those who are robbed of agency, either by time or by war, and purge themselves of the larger burden of society. To free the mind from its manacles, one must recognize the futility of living a life against himself and subordinate that life to the true pursuit: a love of the self.

    To succeed in contentment, one must prepare and organize the newly independent soul. Montaigne associates himself with the commonplace man (âme commune), distinct from the stronger souls who “forge for themselves a tranquility which is wholly spiritual” (Montaigne 102). “On Solitude” recognizes that most people, including Montaigne himself, are incapable of totally rejecting material pleasure and occupation; as such, one can participate in a small, external pursuit to avoid inert idleness (Heck 94). De Maistre agrees with Montaigne; the narrator illustrates that a total avoidance of pleasure is impossible for most commonfolk—with whom both authors associate—via the executive power of the bête over the âme (Koos 296). For instance, Voyages describes the Lady’s braids as “no longer an obstacles...rather a means of escape” from drowning in the immaterial space as the lady brings “reason and reality with her" (De Maistre 64). Although the âme can escape to a heaven-like realm (“released from this distressing intimacy, raises herself to the heavens”), it is liable to volitions and bodily desires of the beast, “[the beast] can very often compel the soul to act against her will” (21). Deprivation from material pleasure for the sake of a mystic end, without a single counterbalance, will turn the individual into a beast rather than the intended angel: “there are ways of failing in solitude as in society” (Montaigne 107). For de Maistre, the beast must be subordinated to the soul “the soul must in some way be superior” (De Maistre 20). The soul should stack atop the hedonist pleasures and aspirations of the metaphorical beast and its tenor: the feisty, unyielding, and material driven French Revolution. Because society is deceitful, hindering “our image” with a veil that “shows us a god,” the soul must be guided by the purified self: “a perfect image to which none can take exception” that “reproduces everything” (46, 47). Blaise Pascal builds on the shared sentiment, arguing “le malheur veut que qui veut faire l’ange fait la bête” (De Maistre 50). Evidently, solitude is an ordered, methodological enterprise; however, solitude is not a disordered reverie, a romantic flight beyond the barrier of the self. The withdrawal from society is equated to a withdrawal into the arrière-boutique, in which the self is a crowd—where the imagination of de Maistre may run wild as a self-nourishing, natural product of his fulfilled soul. Man’s objective is not exactly happiness, but to foster a fulfilled, nourished, and whole soul for the growth of happiness. Happiness—the sentiment felt by the writers and readers who indulge in the promoted antidote—is the spontaneous sentiment as result of an organized and moderate soul: “[it] made time and space disappear... contrary to the laws of nature” (De Maistre 26).

    The Latin term mansionem—originally referring to any functional dwelling place— resurfaced in the medieval period to define a place of temporary repose or a stop in a journey (“Mansion”). In effect, the practice of solitude functions as a pause in life. A retreat into solitude is catalysed by a disbalanced relationship with society, which yields anxiety, distrust, disintegration, and unfulfillment in lieu of contentment, happiness, and motivation. For the readers of Voyage and “On Solitude,” the journey of isolation becomes “an antidote to the modern man’s alienation” that deconstructs Blaise Pascal’s belief that man is uncomfortable and incapable of looking inwards (Heck 97). The imagination of de Maistre is a natural consequence of an organized and governed soul, which allows him to venture deeper into the study of the self. Solitude awakens existing faculties nestled in the mind placed there to be discovered and used for judgement and reconstruction: it is not a call for divine aid (Todorov and Saint-Amand 130). Consequently, improper organization of the rational and the irrational—of the material and the immaterial—is an obstacle to happiness. An established equilibrium allows one to free the soul and comfortably enjoy itself in the heavens, relishing in the occasional bodily desire. Ultimately, people live too much for the sake of others and never enough for themselves; the reflections of de Maistre and Montaigne are an attempt to redirect those who wish to live in leisure toward a sustainable path of reflection. Confinement, a space void of fate and distractions, fosters the conditions necessary to raise and reap the fruits solitude; it allows one to forget about the shackles of society, to breach the bounds of the material world, and to discover a unity in the transcendental, immaterial matter of the mind that leads to contentment. As American poet Susan Stewart reflected in her brown study: “One’s business is one’s own, one’s quiet private—a cave lined with leaves, the leaves with lines” (Stewart).

P.S. The MOST fun I have ever had writing! Adore Montaigne with my entire heart and soul.

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Works Cited

De Maistre, Xavier. Voyage Around My Room. New Directions Publishing, 2016, https://www.ndbooks.com/book/voyage-around-my-room/.

Gillespie, Michael Allen. “Montaigne’s Humanistic Liberalism.” The Journal of Politics, vol. 47, no. 1, 1985, pp. 140–59. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2131069.

Haugen, Marius Warholm. “Claustrophilia and Exalted Imagination: Fictional Responses to a Pascalian Problem in the Works of Xavier de Maistre and Jan Potocki.” Nineteenth- Century French Studies, vol. 45, no. 1/2, 2016, pp. 1–16.

Heck, Francis S. “The Meaning of Solitude in Montaigne’s ‘Essays.’” The Bulletin of the Rocky Mountain Modern Language Association, vol. 25, no. 3, 1971, pp. 93–97. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/1346683.

Koos, Leonard R. “The Adventure of Staying Home in Xavier De Maistre’s ‘Voyage Autour De Ma Chambre.’” Romance Notes, vol. 41, no. 3, 2001, pp. 291–99.

“Mansion - Etymology, Origin & Meaning.” Etymonline, https://www.etymonline.com/word/mansion. Accessed 17 Feb. 2026.

Montaigne, Michel de. The Essays: A Selection. Edited by M. A. Screech, Penguin, 2019. Stewart, Susan. “A Brown Study.” The American Poetry Review, vol. 33, no. 4, 2004, pp. 17–17. Todorov, Tzvetan, and Pierre Saint-Amand. “L’Etre et l’Autre: Montaigne.” Yale French Studies, no. 64, 1983, pp. 113–44. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2929954.