Plowing into (or reading) Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Confessions is not exactly a walk in the park but more of making and observing the 18th century on the make or the hustle. Rousseau was a philosopher, composer, novelist, and memoirist. The modern memoir started with Confessions, published in 1782 after he died in 1778. Perhaps the first book by a writer reflecting on his everyday life, listing sexual, political, and every friendship that struck him as bad or sometimes good. But mostly gossipy, without any concern of slander nor lack of ego on his part. His preference for nature can be seen as the love of that world, but like his friend/enemy Voltaire, who sees humans acting naturally in an urban setting.
For decades, I have often gone to bookstores to ask for Raymond Roussel, and the bookseller would hand me Confessions by Rousseau. It was an understandable mistake, which I took part in because I forgot how to spell Roussel’s name correctly and ended up spelling the other Rousseau by educated guess on my part. So finally, I took the hint and ordered a copy of Confessions as if for nothing else but to have a complete collection of Roussel/Rousseau in my library.
What surprised me, thinking of what an 18th-century memoir would be like, is that it is very contemporary in feeling, thought, and sexuality. Rousseau developed a taste for being spanked due to his nanny spanking him as a child. He also encountered homosexual encounters, with him not being that interested (so he claims), but also numerous interests in young, very young girls. Rousseau could have easily fit in with the rock stars of the 1970s. His writings, here and in his political/philosophical works, are that he wrote directly to his public very clearly, precisely, and to the point. Even though this memoir is over 600 pages, it is a straightforward read of his times and place in society. It could have been written in the 20th century. Egomaniacs are pretty much the same as egomaniacs in our century, so there is nothing dated here in this memoir. And Rousseau is clearly a person who finds himself fascinating.
Rousseau was very much a Jean-Jacques of all trades and master of none, except one, is life. He had his ups and downs but was wise and articulate enough to express himself and the world around him. Of course, whether he’s being truthful or accurate is another issue, but Confessions is an important document of a time, place, and a set of individuals. And that he also wrote music is of interest to me. His one-act opera Le Devin du Village is worthy of a listen. One can find it on the regular streaming platforms.