Dorian Rolston
Dorian Rolston is a high school English teacher in Houston, Texas. His essays appear, among other places, in Aeon, Diagram, and Essay Daily, where he helped edit the What Happened on June 21, 2018 anthology. He holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from the University of Arizona.
Excerpt from Dorian's essay, "Don’t take life so seriously: Montaigne’s lessons on the inner life," available on Aeon:
Montaigne was well aware that the promise of getting away from it all was a fool’s errand since, wherever you go, you take yourself with you: ‘It is not enough to have gotten away from the crowd,’ he writes, since ‘we must get away from the gregarious instincts that are inside us.’ Instead, to quote Albius Tibullus, one of the Latin poets he grew up with, ‘be to thyself a throng’. This is where I hoped my dad might take note: shut in with no one but himself for company, there might still be a chance for great companionship. ‘We have a soul that can be turned upon itself,’ writes Montaigne, ‘it has the means to attack and the means to defend, the means to receive and the means to give.’ Sadly, my dad didn’t see his own soul this way and, after falling into a depression of his own, he took his own life.
I wonder now if Montaigne’s back shop was less the writer’s saving grace, lifting him from the depths of despair, but not the act of writing from within it? ‘Here our ordinary conversation must be between us and ourselves,’ he writes – and I take it he means that the quality of the inner dialogue will determine the quality of the life.
Montaigne’s mental chatter had a buoyancy to it, as he bounced from one subject to the next, going with the current. What I couldn’t convey to my dad, evidently, was this lightness of attention, distilled in that most famous of Montaignisms: ‘Que sais-je?’ (What do I know?) In his celebratory portrait of Montaigne, Ralph Waldo Emerson in 1837 comments that: ‘His writing has no enthusiasms, no aspiration; contented, self-respecting, and keeping the middle of the road.’ Not taking life quite so seriously – the pursuit of happiness notwithstanding – might then be Montaigne’s key to dying well. After all, there might be no surer inner peace in one’s final days than not needing it so badly.
Recommended Books for Aspiring Writers
Student Testimonials
"In Dorian's course we were encouraged to consider writing as a part of life, and as a way to reflect on some of the routine and universal aspects of human existence. We did this through being in conversation with classic and contemporary essayists, exploring why we write and of course through thoughtful assignments and exercises. As an instructor he created a comfortable and safe space for conversation and community." (Michela Wilson)
"He’s a very great teacher. I was losing my passion for writing and he helped me grasp it and find a new love for it." (Brenda Sawi)
Teaching Philosophy
My teaching philosophy is to support you in your ambitions as a writer, whatever they may be. And if you feel like you don't have any, to help you uncover them. The great joy is that none of us knows where this is going to lead, which is after all how Montaigne got started writing: "What do I know?"
Excerpt from Dorian's essay, "Don’t take life so seriously: Montaigne’s lessons on the inner life," available on Aeon:
Montaigne was well aware that the promise of getting away from it all was a fool’s errand since, wherever you go, you take yourself with you: ‘It is not enough to have gotten away from the crowd,’ he writes, since ‘we must get away from the gregarious instincts that are inside us.’ Instead, to quote Albius Tibullus, one of the Latin poets he grew up with, ‘be to thyself a throng’. This is where I hoped my dad might take note: shut in with no one but himself for company, there might still be a chance for great companionship. ‘We have a soul that can be turned upon itself,’ writes Montaigne, ‘it has the means to attack and the means to defend, the means to receive and the means to give.’ Sadly, my dad didn’t see his own soul this way and, after falling into a depression of his own, he took his own life.
I wonder now if Montaigne’s back shop was less the writer’s saving grace, lifting him from the depths of despair, but not the act of writing from within it? ‘Here our ordinary conversation must be between us and ourselves,’ he writes – and I take it he means that the quality of the inner dialogue will determine the quality of the life.
Montaigne’s mental chatter had a buoyancy to it, as he bounced from one subject to the next, going with the current. What I couldn’t convey to my dad, evidently, was this lightness of attention, distilled in that most famous of Montaignisms: ‘Que sais-je?’ (What do I know?) In his celebratory portrait of Montaigne, Ralph Waldo Emerson in 1837 comments that: ‘His writing has no enthusiasms, no aspiration; contented, self-respecting, and keeping the middle of the road.’ Not taking life quite so seriously – the pursuit of happiness notwithstanding – might then be Montaigne’s key to dying well. After all, there might be no surer inner peace in one’s final days than not needing it so badly.
Recommended Books for Aspiring Writers
- Exercises in Style, Raymond Queneau
- Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
- If You Want to Write: A Book About Art, Independence and Spirit, Brenda Ueland
- The Writing Life, Annie Dillard
- The Book of Delights, Ross Gay
Student Testimonials
"In Dorian's course we were encouraged to consider writing as a part of life, and as a way to reflect on some of the routine and universal aspects of human existence. We did this through being in conversation with classic and contemporary essayists, exploring why we write and of course through thoughtful assignments and exercises. As an instructor he created a comfortable and safe space for conversation and community." (Michela Wilson)
"He’s a very great teacher. I was losing my passion for writing and he helped me grasp it and find a new love for it." (Brenda Sawi)
Teaching Philosophy
My teaching philosophy is to support you in your ambitions as a writer, whatever they may be. And if you feel like you don't have any, to help you uncover them. The great joy is that none of us knows where this is going to lead, which is after all how Montaigne got started writing: "What do I know?"