De Vita Solitaria

by Jack Eastham

Author's Note: This seminal work has taken its place in Western history in that it exalts the unique role of man as a self-conscious being whose value is seen not as not just a servant in life but also as one who is served by his own thoughts, discovered through a life of solitude. One scholar, Gustav Korting, acclaimed the importance of De Vita Solitaria in the literature of the Renaissance on the basis that, by the role it ascribes to the human personality, it marks a definitive break with the Middles Ages.

Standing in the hallways of history as a dominant figure in Renaissance thought, Francis Petrarch champions the case for man as a solitary being as to his personal identity, as well as relationship to his universe and God. Traditionally viewed primarily as a social creature, man realizes his summum bonum, according to Petrarch, in a solitary state. So it is that Petrarch's De Vita Solitaria of 1346, reveals the reasons for and results of solitude as man's preferred condition for ultimate self-realization, the pristine state in nature, lost by humans in their quest for civilized status.

Unique in history up to this time, De Vita Solitaria became a book, though begun as a letter to a revered bishop, devoted to the virtue of solitude. Petrarch was interested in focusing on two aspects of solitude in this work: (1) the advantages of personal self-sequestration for 'intellectual labor' or 'religious meditation'; (2) the right of any individual to absolve himself from his social or civic responsibility in order to follow a life of self-imposed solicitude. Maintaining throughout his work that the road to greatest happiness is traveled only along a course of solitude, Petrarch also points out that few will, or even can, pursue such an existence. He argues that many fear being alone with their own cogitations, such individuals never valuing solitude to begin with, let alone attempting to undertake such a life.

Perhaps, before discussing Petrarch's solitude, we should establish the critical need for it. Just as a garden is a repository of all things beautiful and good for us, exempli gratia flowers and food, the mind, or soul, holds all that makes us who and what we are, be we heroes, villains, or somewhere in between. Because a garden can and will be overwhelmed by weeds and waste, it must be cultivated regularly to thwart the choking out of the good growth. Likewise, one's mind is subject to the same waste from the world if not given periodic and vigilant attention. In that spirit, Petrarch sees solitude as the individual's manner by which to cultivate the good in the soul while simultaneously extirpating the bad. Petrarch reminds us that "the human mind teems with errors like a fat field overrun with brambles and if then are not diligently uprooted and with studious toil cleared away, the fruit in both cases will perish with the flower' (105). Jesus admonishes his disciples in the same vein in their spiritual lives with the tares choking out the fruit of their pure minds. For Petrarch, the self-examination of solitude provides the respite and reflection requisite for such a purging and replenishment of the mind and soul.

One source of confusion to the modern mind one might encounter in studying Petrarchian solitude is leisure, a concept significantly different in denotation since the fourteenth century. Leisure for Petrarch denoted

[Editor's Note: The text here is corrupt. Some words are missiing from the file on the disk on which the paper was stored. My apologies for the inconvenience.]

[ ...] ive to note in De Vita Solitaria that nowhere does Petrarch suggest, though, that one becomes a better being ipso facto he adopts solitary living. The solitude provides the vehicle or medium by or through which one seeks his identity, meaning, or duty. The quality and intent of the one entering seclusion are as important as the life itself.

Beset by the secular cares and sundry distractions of life, man discovers singularity of purpose and self-fulfillment through a complete displacement from the milieu of such mundane matters, viz. solitude, a repose of the soul that equates being within oneself with happiness. Of all forms of human happiness to be imagined, this solitary serenity is the highest. As Petrarch observes, 'I believe that a noble spirit will never find repose save in God, in whom is our end, or in himself and his private thoughts, or in some intellect united by a close sympathy with his own' (105). It should be noted that Petrarch's solitude does not restrict itself to just a 'religious reclusion' but is aimed at a 'liberation of self' as a way of ameliorating one's being, thus character, through self-examination. From such a soul-searching process, one can better see the truth, whatever form it might take because the mind is clear from all the paltry impediments of life.

Petrarch's reference to 'some intellect united by a close sympathy with his own' leads to another important aspect of his concept of solitude that differs from the traditional religious use of the term. His seems to be a solitude of thought, which is not contradicted by being with another, if that company creates a union of souls. As he writes, 'I take pleasure in frequent conviviality or in interruptions to my work ñ then it seems to me that I have found not another, but myself somehow duplicated. Surely they are not two who have a single mind' (292). This single-mindedness for Petrarch enables several to transcend their plurality to achieve a unity of being through repose. Petrarch goes as far as to say that an alter ego is preferable to solitude, if a choice had to be made. He states solitude may include a close friend, but never a crowd. Even in friendship, let it be done singly. If he had to lose solitude or his friends, he would drop solitude. He further inquires what good are the blessings of life if one has no one else with whom to share (163-64).

Next, Petrarch draws a lengthy contrast between what he terms the'busy (city) man' and the 'retired (solitary) man.' Generally, he shows how the former is so enamored with making money, pleasing others, and filling his time that he never 'finds himself' and certainly, then, never attains a true sense of 'self.' From morning until midnight, this busy man never relents from worldly pursuits. He is the same one who, if given the chance to be alone, would fear such a prospect, possibly because he might be confronted by a self he would not like. One must regard honesty and integrity as priorities to benefit from solitude in that being within oneself compels one to see himself naked in nature, disclosing the good and bad. One must possess the propensity to pursue truth from such an intimate self-confrontation for solitude to allow any bona fide change in character.

In marked contrast, the retired man loves to look not on gold but at the sky and to tread on earth (in nature) rather than the public concourses (114). Unlike his busy man counterpart, this retired man is 'content with his own lot and inaccessible to the injuries of Fortune' (115). From these two representative men, Petrarch delineates a threefold advantage of solitary life (121):

• Sound conscience. The retired man understands truth and his duty to it; ergo, he can sleep at night, knowing he lives honestly with himself.
• Trust in others. The retired man allows few into his life; those allowed are of the same ilk as he, thus able to be trusted as well as befriended.
• Fear of God. The retired man is able to commune with God in a way that only solitude allows; hence, knowing God intimately, man respects and reveres Him as sovereign and knows his own place in life.

It is interesting that Petrarch realizes one cannot always be spatially removed from public places where it would seem one could never gain solitude; however, he acknowledges the inevitability of this situation and maintains that one can be alone without being alone. He says we can, and must, create our own privacy even amidst crowds by 'being within ourselves' (136). He continues that this within ourselves can be achieved 'if we direct our attention, with our whole mental energy, to the work actually before us, nothing of all that strikes our eyes or ears will penetrate the mind (136). Thus, no one can claim that solitude is exclusively for self-confined souls in some sylvan setting, though being away from the obstreperous throngs is more conducive to pure solitude. Petrarch proudly claims, "I have learned to create a solitude among people in the city and a haven of refuge in the midst of a tempest, using a device,--of so controlling the senses that they do not perceive what they perceive (135). Nonetheless, Petrarch's ideal site for contemplation is rustic. "I nowhere feel in my mind working more happily than in the woods and mountains' (156).

Equally important to being able to have a solitude of the mind wherever one finds himself is that one can reflect just as well after one has left his site of solitude. Often, our thoughts and meditations are even more lucid as we return to n

In designating the man of solitude as sagacious, Petrarch turns to characterize the fool as one incapable of or averse to seeking solitude. These are brutes who can see no further than their next meal, driven by the powerful appetitive forces of the senses. 'They do not find life agreeing--for they have no fixed purpose, no firmness, no unshaken determination. They do not know what to do, and not knowing that they do not know, they make no effort to know. The result is that they do not know to what end they are alive' (169). In distinction, 'to have a single aim sure and steadfast is the mark of a wise man" (171).

Solitude comprises not only one's thoughts and oneself but also thoughts of great minds. The epistemophile (lover of learning) and the bibliophile will better utilize solitude because communing with great ideas is as important as creating one's own ideas. Familiarity with classic works in the realms of religion, literature, philosophy, and history enriches one in solitude, as if the great minds of the past are engaged in a spirited exchange of thoughts and questions. Without such literary companionship, solitude could well be empty time spent in vain.

For there are some for whom the life of solitude is more grievous than death and seems calculated to result in death, and this will happen particularly with persons who have no acquaintance with literature. Such men, if they have no one to talk to, are destitute of any resource for communion with themselves or with books, and necessarily remain dumb. And, indeed, isolation without literature is exile, prison, and torture; supply literature, and it becomes your country, freedom, and delight (131).

Perambulating through a plethora of prophets, poets, and philosophers, Petrarch points out how well solitude has served many of the past who then serve ably as models for us. Petrarch suggests these giants of the past were who they were because of the strength of character drawn and developed through solitude. In his Edenic existence, Adam stood and served well while alone. His companion Eve became his bane upon her arrival in the garden, though to be fair to her cause, Adam was complicitous in the consumption of the proscribed fruit.

Petrarch observes, "as long as he (Adam) was alone, no man was happier, but as soon as he received a companion, none more wretched. Alone, he stood up, with his companion he fell' (195).

Abraham enjoyed the solitary style of life as a servant of God as he "was sitting not in a chamber filled with vessels and covered with variegated carpets, but on the grassy floor of nature' (196). Here was a man who became the progenitor for God's nation, and solitude was his greatest ally in communion with his Lord and better knowing His will. Moses lived 'in forests and in the summit of a high mountain' (198) where he served Jehovah faithfully. One might well consider how he spent days alone on Mount Sinai in communing with God and himself before delivering the Law to the people. Petrarch asks at this point, 'Do you see how favorable solitude is to divine benefits, to intercourse with God and to meetings with angels' (199)?

Moving along, Petrarch notes, among other saints, how Augustine showed greatness through solitude. In his pilgrimage from a wretched life to serving God, Augustine "decides at last to change his way of life, and so abandoning the city, he sought the loneliness of the country in order that, having been mad with the multitude, he might regain his wits in solitude' (209-10). To this list, Petrarch adds John the Baptist and Jesus himself as those whose solitude served to fortify their faith and reinforce their resolve to do their work. Though both men certainly were here to serve others in their ministries, their courage and conviction clearly originated in the strength they drew in their moments of solitude.

Following these examples, Petrarch lists a litany of poets and philosophers who excelled in their labors from an inner power drawn from solitude. 'These men (philosophers, poets, and orators) studied in private that they might traffic in public, they meditated in the woods that they might make a display in the cities' (280). All these, Petrarch suggests, would never have achieved their greatness and goals or ever reached their personal summits had they not communed in solitude with their God and their own souls. From this, he concludes:

Therefore, whether our desire is to serve God, where is the only freedom and the only felicity, or by virtuous practice to developour mind, which is the next best application of our labor, orthrough reflection and writing to leave our remembrance toposterity--or whether it is our aim to achieve all these things together, let us, I pray you, make our escape at length and spendin solitude what little time remains" (301).

Analyzing the efficacy of solitude, Petrarch suggests three components, each of which is instrumental for solitude to achieve what it should for the individual.

Solitude is considered threefold, if I grasp the matter rightly: that of place, with which my present discourse is specially taken up; that of time, as in the night, when there is solitude and silence even in public squares; that of the mind, as in persons who, absorbed in deepest contemplation, in broad daylight and in a crowded market-place, are not aware of what is going on there and alone whenever and wherever they wish (220).

Ideally, one communes with himself best in nature, wandering through the woods, ascending a mountain, or ambling along a coast or shore. By being in nature that way, one seems to be doing two things important to solitude: (1) returning to one's point of origin to regain that lost sense of beginnings; (2) the seclusion away from the mindless mob whose essential interest is sales, not salvation. In that sense, place is crucial in where one communes.

Times of day or year can be critical in that certain periods lend themselves to quiet and calm. The hours when most others are asleep or the days when many others have abandoned the area, e.g. holidays, are two such times that might be more conducive to solitary moments with oneself. Also, the mind must be conditioned to be alone. One must want to be alone and have the deliberative purpose to contemplate; otherwise, it becomes a mere idle expanse, readily resulting in ennui. Unless the mind is prepared to engage in solitary thought, it might as well be back in the marketplace with the masses.

Petrarch cannot avoid a major criticism launched against his thoughts on solitude. Such a life clearly interferes with one's duties to his city (political) and his peers and confreres (social). If followed through, as any good practice of life should be, what would happen to cities, families, and governments? Critics were quick to point out, ironically, from the very sources employed by Petrarch to show a life of solitude is not the ideal life. 'Woe to him that is alone, when he falleth: for he hath not anyone to help him up,' says the sage of Ecclesiastes (4:10). Also, Aristotle tells us that man by his very nature a social animal. Finally, the greatly admired Cicero himself avers that man left alone would seek a companion for his study. Indeed, a great prophet, philosopher, and poet all point to the importance, perhaps necessity, of preferring the humanitarian life as ideal.

Some might hastily conclude Petrarch is espousing an extreme lifestyle that, albeit noble and emulative, is impracticable for even those who would undertake it if they could. In fairness to the man, though, it should be observed that his solitude is not so much an abandonment of life, family, or community as it is an attitude, which may or may not entail a separation from others. He cites the Brahmans as an example of non-Christians in solitude who, though having some merit to their lifestyle, go to an extreme that Petrarch would have his devotees avoid. He assures us, 'I do not like their (radical ascetics of the East) inhuman disregard of food and sleep, for in avoiding the extreme of the solicitous life we may well lapse into the other extreme' (261-62). Petrarch adds attire to this lifestyle, citing the Gymnosophists, who ambulate the meadows and mountains sans their habiliments while engaged in the mysteries of the universe, and who knows what else! Those who resort to such extremes he never had in mind. Those who anticipate death (Brahmans, et. al.) and those who use indecency as a guise for 'freedom' (Gymnosophists) take to an end the kind of solitary existence Petrarch never envisioned. Not to jettison all that the Brahmans believed, though, Petrarch affirms the value and validity of their contempt of the world, freedom from society, silence, leisure, fixed contemplation, habitation, and self-possession as elements he equally deems important in solitude.

Rather than dispute these points, attempting to persuade all that the life of solitude is ideal, Petrarch takes the course of simply stating that his life is not for all, and he knows that society will go on, with or without lives of solitude.

Wisely, Petrarch knows that solitude is not for all because (1) most would never benefit from such a life, anyhow (cf. the 'busy man'); (2) it is really an elective life, also. Improving oneself, reaching for goals, and striving to make a better world comprise what solitude is all about to begin with. By definition, these are all elective, voluntary in nature, or they would not have their value, their specialness. Those who would lead themselves or lead others will see the value in solitude and pursue it, whether in the city or the woods. Those preoccupied with commercial and hedonistic propensities will not even know about and care about the life described by Petrarch. So, such an objection to Petrarch becomes a moot point in that he never intended to speak for all in the first place. Life will go on, and he knows it. As Petrarch summarizes on this point:

I shall be glad if I can persuade the few. It is not indeed reasonable to involve all men to lead one kind of life, particularly the life of solitude, and so I do not speak for everybody but for you and myself, and for those few with whose dispositions these unusual habits agree (310).

Human self-realization most effectively achieved through solitude, Petrarch delineates in De Vita Solitaria the nature and role of this contemplative, communal state in his classic Renaissance work . Leisure as a meditative activity, this humanist reformer explains, whether done in absolute seclusion, in a community, or within one's self is a 'settled spirit' or 'serene self' that can focus in a religious meditation, engage in philosophical speculation, or imbibe intently from introspection. Whatever the case may be, solitude is a strengthening of the soul to discover what one needs to realize about himself in order to enjoy a better life, personally, spiritually, or otherwise. Citing numerous examples from history, Petrarch reveals how greatness has been achieved for many through solitary lives, the same kind of self-discovery of spirit available to any who will embrace it. Importantly, Petrarch also points to possible abuses of solitary living when it leads to 'ascetic extremes' that can incur more harm than good. Finally, the ultimate feature of solitude is its elective nature. We tend to value most what we choose: solitude must be chosen for it to have its full value and efficacy.

The benefits of solitude result only from a pure and whole investment of oneself, which is an act of volition, not intellect, though both are involved. Petrarch provides a panoramic understanding of de vita solitaria with its life-reviving, life-affirming, and life-sustaining qualities.

First published June 10, 2002; Last Updated June 12, 2002

Copyright 2002, GJL