Friedrich Nietzsche Twilight of The Idols or How To Philosophize With The Hammer Translated by Richard Polt
Friedrich Nietzsche Twilight of The Idols or How To Philosophize With The Hammer Translated by Richard Polt
Friedrich Nietzsche Twilight of The Idols or How To Philosophize With The Hammer Translated by Richard Polt
Nietzsche
Twilight
of the
Idols
Translated by
Richard Polt
Introduction by
Tracy Strong
Twilight
of
the
Idols
FRIEDRICH
NIETZSCHE
Twilight
of
the
Idols
Or,
How to Philosophize
with the Hammer
Translated by
Richard Polt
Introduction by
Tracy Strong
Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.
Indianapolis/Cambridge
Contents
Introduction by Tracy Strong............................................................. vii
Bibliography on Nietzsche............................................................... xxix
Translators Note ............................................................................ xxxi
Introduction
Hammers, Idleness and Music
Music now brings me sensations such as I have never had before. It
takes me away from myself, it sobers me up from myself, as if I
oversaw myself from a distance, it gluts my senses (berfhlte) . . .
Life without music would be an error, a hardship, an exile.
Letter to Kselitz, 1/15/88
In the end, what is there for it? There is no other means to bring
philosophy again into honor: one must first hang all moralists.
Nachlass, WKG VIII3 p. 4121
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche was born on October 15, 1844, in the town
of Rcken, near Leipzig. He was the son and grandson of Lutheran ministers. When he was four his father passed away and half a year later a
younger brother suddenly died. He was brought up with his sister by his
mother and two aunts. A brilliant and precocious student, he was educated in Schulpforta, one of the top private schools in Germany. He went
from there first to Bonn and then to Leipzig to study classical philology.
His reputation and recommendations were such that, while still finishing
his studies, he was called to the chair of classical philology at the University of Basel.
In 1870, he volunteered as a medical orderly in the Franco-Prussian
war. After his return to the university, he became part of Basel intellectual
circles, in constant contact notably with the historian Jakob Burckhardt
and the ethnographer J. J. Bachofen. He became a close, even intimate,
friend of Richard and Cosima Wagner, who then were living near Lucerne
in central Switzerland, and was a frequent visitor at their home.
His first work, The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music, appeared
in January of 1872. The book attacked the received wisdom of the time
that the Greeks were people of sweetness and light, the children of the
race, as it wereand it appeared to see in the music drama of Richard
Wagner the possibility of a rebirth of Greek tragedy in contemporary
Germany. Unsurprisingly, it became the focus of an intense intellectual
conflict in German university circles, all the more so for having been
written without footnotes and in an occasionally exalted prose style.
vii
viii
Nietzsche was deemed at the time to have lost the intellectual battle.
Between 1873 and 1878, he abandoned several works in progress and
published only the four Untimely Meditations, essays on cultural subjects written in the style of Emerson, a writer Nietzsche much admired.
In 1878, the first volume of Human-All-Too-Human appeared; the same
year occasioned his public rupture with Wagner. His health, precarious in
the best of times, was poor enough that he asked to be relieved of his
teaching duties at Basel. Granted a small pension, he began a nomadic
life, spending summers in Sils-Maria in southeastern Switzerland and the
rest of the year in towns in southern France and northern Italy. His writing pace accelerated: he produced Dawn of Day (1881), The Gay Science
(1882), Thus Spoke Zarathustra (188385), Beyond Good and Evil (1886),
On the Genealogy of Morals (1887), and the books of 1888 mentioned
below. Sales were minimal, as was public recognition until 1887, when the
Danish critic Georg Brandes gave a series of public lectures in Copenhagen on Nietzsches work.2 On January 4, 1889, Nietzsche collapsed on a
street in Turin. His friend Franz Overbeck brought him back to Germany,
where he was hospitalized in an asylum, and then released to the care of
his mother and sister. His reputation, however, had begun to spread
widely across Europe and the United States. He died on August 15, 1900,
having never recovered his sanity, but already recognized as an important
intellectual figure.
The present volume, Twilight of the Idols, was written during the first
weeks of the summer of 1888, the last year of Nietzsches life in sanity,
the year which saw an intense accelerando in Nietzsches already substantial productivity. An enormous, almost compulsive, output of books and
letters cascaded from his pen. In the epigraph to Ecce Homo, in life-exultant language reminiscent of the opening paragraph of Emersons Divinity School Address, he refers to these books as the gift of the year3 and
calls particular attention to The Antichrist, the Dionysus-Dithyrambs, and
Twilight of the Idols. To those one must add almost three hundred letters
as well as two works on Wagner: The Case of Wagner and a collection of
his writings on Wagner from throughout his life, Nietzsche Contra Wagner. It was, he wrote to Franz Overbeck, the autumn of his life, his great
harvest time.4
In this context, Nietzsches intention for Twilight is quite clear. In a
letter to the composer Heinrich Kselitz (nom de plume: Peter Gast) on
September 12, 1888, he writes that he has just sent off to his publisher a
manuscript with the title A Psychologists Idleness.
Introduction
ix
Under this harmless title there is hidden a very sharp, precise, and
quick digest (hingeworfene Zusammenfassung) of my essential philosophical heterodoxies: this is so that the book can serve to introduce
and whet the appetite for my Revaluation of All Values (the first
book is practically completely worked out). There is a lot in it of
judgments on the present, on thinkers, writers and such.5
In a letter of September 14 to Paul Deussen, he speaks of this book and
its immediate predecessor, The Case of Wagner, as just recuperations
(wirkliche Erholungen) in the course of his greater task, which, when
accomplished, will split humanity in halves. Twilight is a book that
looks in two directions.6 It summarizes what Nietzsche thought he had
achieved before 1888: a harvest of what he had done during the preceding
two decades. Furthermore, he thinks of this workthat which he has
accomplished since the Birth of Tragedyas preparatory to his lifes creative work, the projected Revaluation of All Values. Nietzsche had difficulty, however, in accepting any of his work as the actual first step of this
new project. At one point, he seems to have thought of The Antichrist (the
volume referred to in the paragraph above) as the first volume of the new
work. However, he crossed this subtitle out in manuscript and substituted
the one that it presently bears, Curse upon Christianity. It is not therefore apparent that Nietzsche understood anything that he wrote to be
other than preparatory for his major philosophy. In any case, it is clear
that Nietzsche intended Twilight to be both an introduction to work that
was to come and a summary of the critical work that he had engaged in
over the preceding eight years. Twilight, as Nietzsche says in his autobiography, is the work of a nunciatory angel.7
As he had written to Kselitz, the title of the present book was originally to be A Psychologists Idleness. An earlier version of the first aphorism: Idleness is the start of all philosophy. Is philosophy then a sin?8
explains some of what he had in mind. It also recalls Aristotles understanding that the beginnings of philosophy were in wonder and raises the
issue of the status of philosophy. Upon prompting from Kselitzwho
found it inadequately thunderousNietzsche tried out a number of variations and came up with Twilight of the Idols. A few things should be
noted about the new title. First, in the course of finalizing the new title,
Nietzsche twice tried out as a subtitle How a Psychologist Asks Questions. In all but the final version, the book is to be called Gtzen-Hammer, the Hammer of the Idols.9 The hammer functions, Nietzsche says in
the preface, as a tuning fork to the idols, that is, as a way both of ques-
tioning whether or not they sound true when struck while at the same
time sounding a true note. Note that when a tuning fork is used to strike a
hollow object there is a resonance from both the object and the fork. The
two notes are necessary to the operation.
The title resonates in several ways. One is to Francis Bacon and his
attack on idols of the mind.10 Nietzsche speaks favorably of Bacons
realism, the trait he draws special attention to as admirable in Thucydides at the end of Twilight. Whatever realism actually is, it is at least not
mistaking the world for that which one wants it to beas he accuses
almost all of Western philosophy in one way or another of doing. Twilight
is thus about the accounts of the world that humans want to give to themselves in order to keep themselves from seeing the world (and themselves) as it is. It is thus necessarily also about the reasons that they give
themselves such accounts.
Additionally, even more closely in German than in English,
Gtzendmmerung calls to mind Gtterdmmerung, the title of the last
opera in Wagners Ring des Nibelungen. Gtterdmmerung is an opera
about the end of the reign of the gods. In Gtterdmmerung, the reign of
the gods comes to an end because the gods are unable to live both within
their own law and justly. The German Dmmerung, like its English translation twilight, refers to that time between the dark and the light of day,
with no immediate indication of which comes after which. Therefore,
Twilight of the Idols does not indicate whether it marks a transition
from day to night or the other way around. All it claims to do is to sound
the clear note that comes between being out of tune and being in tune:
like twilight, it marks the time between what came before and the beginning of that which comes after. It is intended to make it impossible to live
with idols.
If we may therefore find in Twilight what will become Nietzsches revaluation of values, we cannot look there for the actual revaluation. The final
dateline to the revised prefaceSeptember 30, 1888, on the day when
the first book of the Revaluation of All Values was finishedindicates
only that Nietzsche thought that what he had accomplished in this book
made possible such a revaluation. It does mark, however, the end of the
course on which Nietzsches life had been set as he came to deal with the
lack of understanding with which his first book, The Birth of Tragedy, had
been greeted. His hope in the early 1870s for a two-pronged cultural
rebirth, led by Wagners music and his own sense of the possibilities for
pedagogy, had been dashed by the reception afforded his first work.11 He
had embarked instead on a long critical journey through the social and
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xii
Introduction
xiii
xiv
cookie notes which are sufficiently gnomic to be taken seriously. These are
Nietzsches words: these passages are from his text. What is the status of
sentences such as these, which occur not only here, but also throughout
Nietzsches work? How is the reader to respond to them?
First, there is a great temptation to succumb to Nietzsches quotability. Indeed, in Zarathustra, Nietzsche notes, partially as a warning, that
Whoever writes in blood and aphorisms wants not to be read but to be
learned by heart.18 To understand an aphorism one must take it inside
oneself so that it becomes oneself (think of this as incarnation) and ruminate on it, something for which, Nietzsche says, one has almost to be a
cow, and certainly not a modern man.19 Aphorisms do not dominate or
control their readers. One reads an aphorism: if it seems to be a truism, or
patently false, or nonsensical, it is abandoned and forgotten, jogging perhaps only thoughts about the foolishness of those who would consider
such a claim meaningful. If one is touched by it and responds, however,
something is stirred. It is only at this point that exegesis begins, not as an
attempt to determine what the aphorism means, but to describe the world
to which one has responded through the aphorism. The aphorism presents itself as an answer to which we do not know the questionit is the
Parsifal of discourse.20 Writing in aphorisms is thus an attempt to recover
questionsto recover philosophyand thus Twilight is a book about how
to ask questions.
Here one must proceed very carefully, for such writing is also a temptation. As such, it is meant to be a temptation and to be experienced as
such. Nothing in Nietzsche can be read properly without hearing the resonance that any section of a sentence sets up, both with the rest of the sentence and with the rest of the entry of which it is a part, as well as with
those entries that are around it. Werner Dannhauser properly points to
the importance of the aphorism in Nietzsches thought. He writes: It is
not easy to determine when he is being quoted out of context because it is
not easy to see whether there is context or what it is. Dannhauser continues by (correctly, I think) indicating that the aphorism is a counter to the
treatise as a form of philosophizing. Then he says that aphorisms broach
problems rather than solve them and indicates that aphorisms are generalizations [which] are to be taken as stimulating insights rather than as
final truths. He gives as example: One aphorism declares, What
doesnt kill me makes me stronger.21
The citation is from Twilight (Epigrams and Arrows #8). What Dannhauser gives is indeed a generalization, for which, he properly notes, one
could find all sorts of counterexamples. To the degree that the sentence he
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xvi
terms of the apparent relations of consonance and dissonance that it creates. Let us take a look at each of these qualities.
As Gillespie notes, Twilight is written in an overtly classical style25
that is, with a high consciousness of form, here musical form. At the same
time, however, it subverts that form, much as romantic music subverts the
classical style. Most prominent here is Nietzsches use of dissonance. A
musical element is dissonant when it leads the listener to desire a consonance, a resolution. A simple example can be found in the movement
induced by the chordal sequence V7I . The V7 will be heard as a dissonance calling for the return to I. (In, for example, This Land is Your
Land, the V7 chord occurs with the word made in the line This land
is made/for you and me.) One of the consequences of the chromaticism
more and more systematically introduced into music starting near the end
of the eighteenth century was that it made apparent the more or less conventional quality of that which counted as dissonance.26
The introduction of chromaticism into music not only raised the issue
of the arbitrary nature of consonance, but also caused people to examine
the desire for consonance. By leading the listener to expect a consonance
and then refusing to provide it, music can make the listener aware that he
or she desires the consonance, causing him or her to ask why. A famous
music example is found in the second act of Tristan and Isolde where the
love and passion of the two lovers comes as a musical stream of seventh and
ninth chords with the melody constantly searching for consonance. The
love is importantly dependent on the dissonance and indeed, consonance
in marriage is not achieved until their eventual death. This effect would
not have been produced had we not continually expected the achievement
of a conjunction, a consonance which would have put an end to the love.
The relation of these considerations to Nietzsches texts comes from
the fact that he too will continually tempt his listener with an apparent
consonancewith something that seems to count as a consonanceonly
to shift it over into another dissonance. Such a technique relies upon the
desire for consonance and at the same time induces a critical stance
toward that desire.27
For an example of the musical complexities of reading Nietzsche, take
section five of Morality as Anti-Nature (below, page 28). Nietzsche
begins:
Given that one has grasped the sacrilege of such a revolt against life, like
the revolt that has become nearly sacrosanct in Christian morality, one
has, fortunately, grasped something else as well: the uselessness, illusiveness, absurdity, and mendacity of such a revolt.
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under the optics of life: life itself is forcing us to posit values, life itself is
valuing by means of us, if [and/or when: wenn] we posit values . . .
Note how the insistent one yields here to a we. A new resolution is
proposed: that of life. Those (we) who understand that life is the
answer will realize that there is nothing to do but to succumb to the realization that there is nothing to say, that the problem is inaccessible. (As
we will see below, in the history of Western philosophy Nietzsche associates this position with positivism). By making available the first person
plural (we) Nietzsche tempts the reader to join in an apparent fraternity with others who have insight. The we offers the reader participation as a subject which is no longer abstract, but now has specific
definition and is implicitly an elite. It also reminds the reader that it makes
a difference who is asking the questions and leads the reader to accept this
by implicitly offering the reader a resting space with the new we.
It follows from this that even that anti-natural morality that takes God
to be the antithesis and condemnation of life is only one of lifes value
judgments.A judgment made by which life? Which kind of life?
This is what morality as it has been understood up to now isa condemnation by the condemned, and this includes even the judgment that
God is the antithesis of life. When the reader started this section
Morality as Anti-Naturethere seemed to be an expectation that
morality would be opposed to nature. Now it appears that, as Nietzsche
says in the next paragraph, the problem comes when morality condemns
on its own groundsthat is, when morality moralizes itself. Notice that
an example of moralitys self-moralization is the judgment that God is the
antithesis of life. The issue is raised therefore of the kind of life that makes
such a judgment, that requires such a judgment. Who is the we that
claims that there is nothing to be said about life? The conclusion itself
succumbs again to the temptation to think that consonance has been
achieved and thus Nietzsche immediately undermines the apparent finality of this we by subtracting himself from it. And as he does it, we are
no longer sure of who the we is: we realize that we had implicitly been
relying on identifying ourselves with Nietzsche, using him as a banister
for thought.
But I already gave the answer: declining, weakened, tired, and condemned life.
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will not let his reader sit content: Socrates, he claims in the last paragraph, knew all thisand wanted to die.
At this point, the reader does not know where to turn. Ordinarily, we
might, in reading Nietzsche, have agreed with the initial proposition that
life has no meaning. Having been refused that answer, we might view
being master of oneself as an alternative. In Socrates, however, this is a
formula for decadence. Yet Nietzsches writings are filled with praise
for those who wish to go under, to accept their decadence. Yet . . . .
Perhaps the answer will come if we understand what is problematic
about rationality, the means Socrates chooses. Accordingly, Nietzsche
turns in the next section to an investigation of reason. A similar analysis
could be offered of this and most of the other sections of the book. They
leave us wondering what it is we initially heard, now that it has been
revealed to sound hollow.
Clearly, a musical reading is central to grasping this book. But what
kind of music is involved? If the tuning-fork technique relies on the
Wagnerian and chromatic qualities of readership, Nietzsches achievement is, one might say, French and melodic. (Nietzsche suggested of his
writings of this time that they should have been written in French rather
than German.) The book is also full of conclusions. The experience of
Twilight is an experience of form, of definiteness, of assertiveness. It is a
book written allegro, with a kind of surface gaiety and self-confidence.
Nietzsche offers another, parallel, musical reference. On two occasions,30 he suggests that his new book (Twilight) is a twin to The Case of
Wagner, presumably because they were written during the same period,
from the same material. In this book, Wagner is counterpoised to Bizet, as
are his operas to Carmen. Nietzsche had heard Carmen first in Genoa in
November of 1881. He had found it even then witty, strong, here and
there troublingly moving.31
If Gtzendmmerung contrasts with Gtterdmmerung, so also, in much
the same ways, Bizets Carmen contrasts with Wagners music. An examination of what Nietzsche says about the French opera can give us some
clue as to what he thought he had achieved in Twilight:
This music seems to me perfect. It approaches lightly, supplely, with
politeness. It is obliging, it does not sweat. . . . This music is evil,
refined, fatalistic: it remains all the while popularit has the refinement of a race, not an individual. It is rich. It is precise. It builds,
organizes, comes to an end: it is thus the opposite to the polyp in
music, to the unending melody. Has one ever heard more painful
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be spared one than could a pregnant woman be spared the repellent and
bizarre aspects of pregnancy.45
What would it mean to be in the world, of the world, in such a manner
that one did not seek to get rid of, to control, either the pain or the pleasure? This is the realm which, as the teacher of eternal recurrence,
Nietzsche intends to announce. Twilight does not end with this world
the passage from Zarathustra recovers elements which are missing from
the possibility of such a world. But from these materials we can begin to
imagine it.46
Imagine that you have suffered terribly, from unrequited love, or love
lost, or as a martyr whose ideal is perishing, or in any other of those ways
that Nietzsche details in Gay Science 337. The last thing you want is pity:
I know how you are feeling. Such sympathy is of a categorical sort. It is
not my suffering that is being referred to; indeed, such sympathy abolishes my suffering. It is of the very essence of the emotion of pity,
writes Nietzsche, that it strips away from the suffering of others whatever is distinctly personal. Thus, when Nietzsche writes a paragraph
later that the path to ones own heaven always leads through the voluptuousness of ones own hell,47 the important words are ones own.
Christianity, one might say, has made categorical feeling all too accessible,
a kind of banalitywe all suffer as sinners, without it being my suffering.
However, we cannot get rid of sin without accepting the actuality and
necessity of suffering (as Carmen reads and accepts the cards that
announce first her and then Joss death).
Christianity has turned passion into banality, and Nietzsche argues
that Wagner did also. This means that the only way to recover passion, to
recover authentic suffering, is to reject the banal, to become, as he writes
in the selection from Zarathustra, hard.
There is an order of rank here, but note that Nietzsches discussion of
order of rank has no real importance as a political matter. His interest,
furthermore, is not in how many find their way beyond banality, because
what counts is showing that meaning, or suffering, is meaning for me. If
you suffer it must, as Whitman sang to us, count also as suffering for me.
Nietzsche says that love and friendship are examples of such a relation, a
relation not explored in Twilight.
What is the relation between suffering and understanding? Nietzsches
answer is that we must first recognize the other as other, through and in
fear, before we can come upon what is common, such that you can say that
you understand my suffering. What is crucial to this understanding, once it
is earned, is not its truth (in the sense of accuracy), at least not immediately,
xxiv
but its truthfulness, its meaning, the relation it constitutes. However, the
fact about beings that have achieved such an understanding is that they
cannot be salved by faint praise. The canons of evidence that you are like
me, that we have found what Nietzsche calls a star, are not ours to choose,
but ours to perform. They are given to us by the possibility of having voice,
a possibility that music, as voice, makes available to you and to me.
Weany of us, all those who areare beyond the self-certainties of
the bounded self and of any politics that this self may authorize.
Nietzsche gives a picture of philosophyof lifeas a journey to that to
which we find ourselves called. If we think of life in this manner, we
might even find that others, who we might not think are with us, have
been so all along. It is an understanding in which we are neither to go
back to the world, nor back to ourselves, but in which we are called out to
the actuality of our presence in the world. Plato expressed this as the
movement to which one was constrained in the story of the Cave. Kant
sees it in the experience of the ought that we encounter each time we
pause to reflect on what to do. For Rousseau it is the gentle voice of
naturebut it is not gentle for Nietzsche, so he ends the Raids section
by differentiating himself from Rousseauwhich he urges us to go and
hear, not to return to.48 Nietzsche, from his earliest writings, sees it as an
attraction to what he calls the exemplar, as the finding of oneself as something one is not in something which one finds is ones own. Emerson, on
whom Nietzsche often draws, calls it a provocation, a calling forth.
What does it then mean to hear such a voice? It is to this possibility, I
think, that those who have seen in Nietzsche an importance, an antidote
to the thinness of liberal politics, have responded. Perhaps Nietzsche
serves, almost unawares, as the exemplar he hopes to be. The voice one
hears tells of a philosophical path that shows each that there is passage for
each, that leads me to find words for my self that I do not yet have. It is a
voice lifted in what will be heard as song, a working given to us in our own
opera, a clarity that as there are words which are my words, there are also
words which are your words, a trust of friendship, a shared blindness,
without suspicion or question marks, an end to idolatry, the clarity that
there is love.49
Tracy Strong
End Notes
1. Nietzsche references refer to Werke Kritische Gesamtausgabe (here WKG), ed.
Giorgio Colli and Mazzino Montinari, (Berlin: Gruyter, 1967). So that any edition
may be used, references are to the key for a given text, its internal divisions, divi-
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xxv
sion number (roman numerals), volume number (arabic subscript), and page number. The following abbreviations are used: EHEcce Homo; FWDie Frhliche
Wissenschaft (The Gay Science); FWgDer Fall Wagner (The Case of Wagner);
GMZur Genealogie der Moral (On the Genealogy of Morals); JGBJenseits von
Gut und Bse (Beyond Good and Evil); ZAlso Sprach Zarathustra (Thus Spoke
Zarathustra). Letters are cited by addressee, date, and page number in the appropriate volume of Friedrich Nietzsche Smtliche Briefe (NSB) (Berlin: Gruyter,
1986).
2. Nietzsche expresses his appreciation in EH Why I Write Such Good Books
4 WKG VI3 p. 360. Frequent correspondence took place between the two men in
1888, although Nietzsche spoke highly of Brandes as early as 1883.
3. EH epigraph WKG VI p. 261.
4. Letter to Overbeck 10/18/88 (NSB 8, p. 453).
5. Letter to Kselitz, 9/12/88 (NSB 8, p. 417).
6. Bernd Magnus refers to it as a synopticon of Nietzsches understandings.
See his The Deification of the Commonplace, in Reading Nietzsche, ed. Robert
C. Solomon and Kathleen M. Higgins (New York: Oxford University Press,
1988), p. 157.
7. EH Why I Write Such Good Books 2, WKG VI3 p. 352 (I am he that
brings these glad tidings).
8. WKG VIII3 p. 293; Aristotle, Metaphysics, 927b12.
9. WKG VIII3 p. 394.
10. In a section of the Novum Organum, found in The Essays (Harmondsworth:
Penguin, 1985), appendix 4, pp. 277285. The relation between Nietzsche and Bacon has been explored in Laurence Lampert, Nietzsche and Modern Times (New
Haven, Conn.: Yale, 1993). See also Geoff Waite, Nietzsches Corps/e (Durham,
N.C.: Duke University Press, 1996), p. 230.
11. For a more detailed analysis, see my A Tragic Age for Philosophy, Introduction to Nietzsche, Philosophy in the Tragic Age of the Greeks (Regnery, forthcoming).
12. Michael Gillespie, Nietzsches Musical Politics, in M. Gillespie and T.
Strong, eds., Nietzsches New Seas (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988),
pp. 117149. See also Nietzsches Conception of Music by C.P. Janz, in ibid. pp.
97116. See also Heinrich Schenker, Five Graphic Analyses (New York: Dover,
1970). For Schenker, all good music had a grammar which rested on an inescapable
step-by-step resolution over the course of the whole piece to a tonic note. See the
excellent account and analysis by Charles Rosen, Art Has Its Reasons, New York
Review of Books (June 17, 1971), pp. 32ff.
13. Without taking matters too far, one might start with the fact that the aphorisms number forty-four, precisely the age at which Nietzsche found himself in
1888 as the book went to press. See Gillespie, op. cit., p. 126.
14. Letter of 10/20/88 (NSB 8, p. 457).
xxvi
15. Nietzsche in fact projected a major work to be called The Eternal Return of
the Same, the divisions of which would be examinations of various aspects of embodiment (Einverleibung). WKG V2 p. 392.
16. See the comments in WKG VIII2 pp. 114115.
17. On knowing as a limited and limiting category in Nietzsches thought, see my
Friedrich Nietzsche and the Politics of Transfiguration, second edition (Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1988), chapter 10. For a more general
analysis, see Martin Heidegger, Being and Time (New York: Harper and Row,
1962), pp. 71ff.
18. Z i On Reading and Writing WKG VI1 p. 44.
19. GM Preface 8 WKG VI2 p. 267.
20. The analogy to Parsifal is suggested by one of the worlds great Wagnerians,
Claude Lvi-Strauss, in his The Scope of Anthropology (London: Cape, 1964), pp.
3738. Lvi-Strauss sees Parsifal as a structural inverse to Oedipus. The same
conclusion is arrived at in Agnes Heller, An Ethics of Personality (Oxford: Blackwell, 1996), chapter 4, apparently without knowledge of Lvi-Strausss work.
21. Werner Dannhauser, Nietzsches View of Socrates (Ithaca and London: Cornell
University Press, 1974), pp. 195, 197, 203204 (translation modified to the one in
the present volume).
22. Twilight, Foreword, p. 3 below.
23. Babette Babich, Nietzsches Philosophy of Science: Reflecting Science on the
Ground of Art and Life (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY Press, 1994), p. 6.
24. The term and the argument for it can be found in Babette Babich, On
Nietzsches Concinnity: An Analysis of Style, Nietzsche Studien 19 (1990), pp.
5980. Her footnote 17 gives a good summary of various commentators who have
read Nietzsche as musical. Note that such considerations mean that the material in Nietzsches notebooks, the so-called Nachlass, is by and large not a
Nietzschean text. It is the elements that become a composition, but they are
not a composition. Babich makes the same point. All of this confirms Bernd
Magnuss argument for splitters over lumpers (of the published work
from the Nachlass) in Bernd Magnus, Stanley Stewart, Jean-Pierre Mileur, et
al., Nietzsches Case (London: Routledge, 1993).
25. Gillespie, p. 120. It is misleading, however, to assert, as Gillespie does, that
Nietzsches compositions vary little from the classical mode. The style of those
compositions varies from Palestrina to Liszt, with Mendelssohn and Schumann
providing the model for the most successful. We know that Nietzsche played a lot
of Schumann during his adolesence and, as a young man, made a study of his work.
See also Agnes Heller, An Ethics of Personality, p. 29, for similar considerations.
26. See Rosen, op. cit.
27. In his discussion of Nietzsches style Curt Paul Janz indicates that, in Twilight,
The music becomes dissonant. C. P. Janz, Nietzsche: Biographie (Mnchen:
Hanser, 1978), volume 2, p. 220.
Introduction
xxvii
28. Cf. the opening lines of Peoples and Fatherlands in Beyond Good and Evil:
I hear it again for the first timethe overture to Die Meistersinger . . .
29. Robert Pippin, Morality as Psychology; Psychology as Morality: Nietzsche,
Eros and Clumsy Lovers, in Pippin, Idealism as Modernism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), chapter 14.
30. Letters to Nauman, 9/7/88 (NSB 8, p. 411) and Kselitz 9/12/88 (NSB, p. 417).
31. Letter to Kselitz, 11/12/88 (NSB 6, p. 144). He notes in a letter to Lou
Salom on September 26, 1882, that the Germans are at last realizing that Carmen
has tragedy in it (commenting on a newspaper clipping about a performance in
Berlin with Lilli Lehmann singing the title role, and reminding Lou that he knows
Lehmann personally (NSB 6, p. 266).
32. FWg 1 WKG VI3 p. 8. Nietzsche probably has in mind here the Card Trio in
Act 3, in which, as Carmen reads her fate, a tritone leads to a repeated parallel-octave chromatic run in the strings. A diminished-seventh chord announces that the
cards are laid out and gives way to a pulsing C in F minor as Carmen describes her
fate, all of this in 6/8 time! Yet the effect is precisely what Nietzsche says it is.
Georges Bizet, Carmen in Full Score (New York: Dover, 1989), pp. 392394. See
a discussion of part of this in Theodor Adorno, Fantasia supra Carmen, Quasi
una Fantasia (New York: Verso, 1994) pp. 5364, at p. 59.
33. Letter of 10/20/88 (NSB 8, pp. 457459).
34. EH Why I Write such good Books, Human-All-Too-Human, 5 WKG
VI3 p. 325.
35. JGB 254 WKG VI2 p. 206.
36. FWg 2 WKG VI3 p. 9.
37. FWg 3 WKG VI3 p. 11: Old corrupted females prefer to be redeemed by
chaste youths.
38. Carmen, in fact, ends on a chord built around a tritone (CF#).
39. See the interesting comments on this in Bernd Magnus, Stanley Stewart,
Jean-Pierre Mileur, et al., Nietzsches Case, pp. 234ff.
40. Jacques Derrida (Eperons/Spurs [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978],
pp. 82ff.) has at least begun an attack on Heideggers well-known reading of this
passage (Martin Heidegger, Nietzsche, volume 1, section 24 [New York: HarperCollins, 1991], pp. 200210) along the lines I am suggesting here.
41. An association that Nietzsche makes soon after his discovery-experience of the
eternal return in the beginning of August, 1881, in Sils-Maria. Cf. WKG VII1 p.
350: I have discovered that which is Greek: they believed in the eternal return.
42. Nietzsche projected a work on the Physiology of Art. Cf. FWg 7 WKG VI3
p. 20; See WKG VIII1, p. 292 and WKG VIII3 p. 265: Die Musik Wagners kann
man physiologisch widerlegen . . . (One can refute Wagners music
physiologically . . .).
43. Heidegger, op. cit., p. 207.
xxviii
44. Letter to Rohde, 2/22/84 (NSB 6, p. 479). Nietzsche continues: This enters
the very vowels. Shaper of language is probably drawn from nomothetes in Platos Cratylus. Nietzsche gnomically links the Cratylus and the eternal return in
WKG VII1 p. 345.
45. GM iii 4 WKG VI2 p. 361.
46. The remaining paragraphs draw upon my Nietzsche and the Song in the
Self, New Nietzsche Studies (Fall, 1996), pp. 1ff.
47. FW 338 WKG V2 p. 246.
48. See my Rousseau: The Politics of the Ordinary (Thousand Oaks, Calif.: SAGE,
1994) for the discussion of nature.
49. MAM i Preface 1 WKG IV2 p. 7. I have been told not to use the word deinn
here. See the discussions of deinn in Martin Heidegger, An Introduction to Metaphysics, and his Parmenides.
Bibliography on Nietzsche
Good translations by Walter Kaufmann of Nietzsches major works have
been published by Random House. At present a complete critical edition
paralleling the German edition by Gruyter (mentioned in the footnotes)
is being published by Stanford University Press under the general editorship of Bernd Magnus and Ernst Behler.
The last twenty years have seen an explosion of excellent work on
Nietzsche. To list even the high points would be impossible in such a
short space. I might, however, mention the following, in addition to the
works that are cited in the Introduction.T.S.
Keith Ansell-Pearson, Nietzsche contra Rousseau. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991.
Babette Babich, Nietzsches Philosophy of Science. Albany: SUNY Press,
1994.
Gilles Deleuze, Nietzsche and Philosophy. New York: Columbia University
Press, 1983.
Jacques Derrida, Spurs: Nietzsches Styles. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979.
Karl Jaspers, Nietzsche and Christianity. Chicago: Regnery Press, 1977.
Sarah Kofman, Nietzsche and Metaphor. Stanford: Stanford University
Press, 1993.
Bernd Magnus and Kathleen Higgins, eds. The Cambridge Companion to
Nietzsche. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996 (also contains a good beginning bibliography).
Alexander Nehamas, Nietzsche: Life as Literature. Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 1985.
Gary Shapiro, Nietzschean Narratives. Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1987.
Leslie Thiele, Friedrich Nietzsche and the Politics of the Soul. Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1990.
Geoff Waite, Nietzsches Corpse. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press,
1995.
Mark Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT
Press, 1988.
xxix
xxx
Translators Note
This translation aims to be a trustworthy rendition of Nietzsches text in
contemporary American English.
In order to convey the direct and almost oral style of many of
Nietzsches sentences, I have often used colloquialisms and contractions.
But at points his style is complex and elevated, and I have tried to reflect
that, too.
I have usually retained Nietzsches punctuation, except when he uses
nineteenth-century conventions that would be too jarring or misleading
today. He is fond of italics, exclamation and question marks, dashes, and
ellipses. This idiosyncratic punctuation suggests the nimbleness and tact
of his thinking. The challenge of deciphering his twists and turns is no
doubt meant to test the readers interpretive dancing skills (see 7 of
What the Germans Are Missing). In some notes on style from 1882,
Nietzsche writes: A wealth of gestures bespeaks a wealth of life. One
must learn to perceive everything, the length and brevity of the sentences,
the punctuation marks, the choice of words, the pauses, the sequence of
1
the argumentsas gestures.
Nietzsche does not normally divide the sections of his text into paragraphs. After some deliberation, I have chosen to insert paragraph breaks
in many of the longer sections. These are meant to speed first-time readers understanding of the structure of these sections. Many of my paragraph breaks have been inserted at points where Nietzsche uses a dash or
an ellipsis; this punctuation has been retained and can be seen immediately before the paragraph break. Readers should keep in mind that
almost all the paragraphs reflect my own, debatable interpretive choices.
The exceptions are the paragraph breaks in the Foreword, in the final section of Reason in Philosophy, in How the True World Finally
Became a Fiction, in the first section of What the Germans Are Missing, and before the final sentence of Raids of an Untimely Man. These
are all Nietzsches.
I have tried to avoid suggesting sexism at points where none is apparent in the original textwhile leaving intact the passages which are
unapologetically misogynistic. In particular, this has meant translating
1. WKG VII1 p. 34. I thank Tracy Strong for pointing out this passage.
xxxi
xxxii
Foreword
Its no small trick to preserve your cheerfulness in the midst of a gloomy
matter which is loaded with inordinate responsibility. Yet what could be
more necessary than cheerfulness? Nothing goes right unless exuberance
plays a part in it. Overabundance of strength is the only proof of
1
strength. A revaluation of all values, this question mark so black, so
monstrous that it casts a shadow on the one who poses itsuch a fateful
task forces one to run out into the sun at every moment, to shake off a
heavy seriousness that has become all too heavy. Every means is right for
2
this, every case is a lucky break. Above all, war. War has always been
the great cleverness of all spirits who have become too inward, too deep;
even wounds can have the power to heal. A saying whose source I withhold from scholarly curiosity has long been my motto:
3
And are new idols sounded out? . . . This little book is a great declaration
of war, and as for sounding out idols, this time they are not just idols of
the age, but eternal idols that are touched here with the hammer as with a
tuning forkthere arent any older idols at all, none more assured, none
more inflated . . . And none more hollow . . . That doesnt stop them from
being the ones that are believed in the mostand, especially in the most
prominent case, they arent called idols at all . . .
encouragement of his friend Peter Gast, he changed the title shortly before the
book went to press, but this reference survived. The new title, Gtzen-Dmmerung
(Twilight of the Idols), is a pun on Wagners Gtterdmmerung (Twilight of the
Gods).
5. The Antichrist (published 1895). In an Edict Against Christianity, which
Nietzsche considered using as the last page of The Antichrist, he describes the day
on which he finished that book as follows: the day of salvation, the first day of the
Year Onein the false calendar, September 30, 1888.
2
Even the bravest of us only rarely have the bravery for what we actually
know . . .
3
7
4
8
5
Once and for all, theres a lot that I dont want to know.Wisdom sets
limits even to knowledge.
6
It is in our wild nature that we best recover from our un-nature, our
9
spirituality . . .
6. An allusion to the German proverb Idleness is the start of all vice. As in his
foreword, Nietzsche has in mind his original title for this book: A Psychologists
Idleness. An earlier draft of this aphorism reads: Idleness is the start of all philosophy. Is philosophy thena sin? Aristotle associates leisure with the origins of
theoretical thinking in Metaphysics I, 1.
7. Politics I, 2.
8. A reference to Schopenhauers dictum Simplicity is the seal of truth. On
Schopenhauer, see below, Morality as Anti-Nature, 5, and Raids of an Untimely Man, 2122.
9. Geistigkeit: while the English word spiritual now refers primarily to religious sensibility, the German geistig is a very broad term that can be applied to all
5
7
What? Is humanity just Gods mistake? Or God just a mistake of
humanity?
8
10
9
Help yourself: then everyone will help you. Principle of neighborly
love.
10
Not to be cowardly in the face of ones own deeds! Not to leave them in
the lurch afterwards!The pangs of conscience are unseemly.
11
Can a donkey be tragic?To perish beneath a load one can neither
carry nor cast off? . . . The case of the philosopher.
12
If you have your why for life, you can get by with almost any how.
Humanity does not strive for happiness; only the English do.
13
Man created womanbut out of what? Out of a rib of his Godof his
ideal . . .
the higher activities and manifestations of human intelligence and consciousness,
including science, art, religion and philosophy. But in the absence of better equivalents, Geist and geistig will generally be translated as spirit and spiritual.
Sometimes Geist will be translated as mind or intelligence; in these cases the
German will be provided within brackets.
10. For a self-portrait by Nietzsche which expands on this epigram, see Ecce Homo, Why I Am So Wise, 2.
14
What? Youre searching? Youd like to multiply yourself ten times, a
hundred times? Youre looking for followers?Look for zeros!
15
Posthumous human beingslike me, for exampleare understood
worse than timely ones, but they are listened to better. More accurately: we
are never understoodand thats the source of our authority . . .
16
Among women.Truth? Oh, you dont know truth! Isnt it an assault
on all our pudeurs [modesties]?
17
This is an artist as I like my artists, simple in his needs: he really wants
11
only two things, his bread and his artpanem et Circen . . .
18
Those who dont know how to put their will into things at least put a
meaning into them: that is, they have faith that a will is already in things
(principle of faith).
19
Hows that? Youve chosen virtue and the puffed-up chest, but at the
same time you look askance at the advantages of those who have no scruples?But when one embraces virtue, one renounces advantages . . .
(Posted on an anti-Semites front door.)
11. Bread and Circea pun on panem et circenses, bread and circuses. Juvenal
accuses the decadent Romans of wanting only bread and circuses in Satires X, 81.
In the Odyssey Circe is an enchantress who turns men into beasts.
20
The perfect woman commits literature as she commits a little sin: as an
experiment, in passing, looking around to see if someone is noticing, and
12
to see to it that someone notices . . .
21
To get into all kinds of situations where no fake virtues are allowed,
where instead, like the tightrope walker on his rope, you either slip or you
standor you get away . . .
22
13
Evil people dont have songs. How is it that the Russians have
songs?
23
14
24
Looking for beginnings turns you into a crab. Historians look backwards; they end up believing backwards too.
25
Contentment even protects you against catching cold. Has a woman
who knew she was well-dressed ever caught cold?Im imagining a case
where she was hardly dressed at all.
12. The original draft of this passage continues: it is well known how well a small
spot of decay and brown corruption suits the perfect womanand even more so
how all literary composition works on women, as retrospective question marks
about all earlier feminine pudeurs [decency].
13. A popular saying based on the poem Die Gesnge (The Songs), by Johann
Gottfried Seume (17631810). This entry was extracted from a longer paragraph
that reads, in part: Russian music brings to light with moving simplicity the soul
of those at the bottom of society . . . But how is it then that the ruling class of Russia
is not represented by its music? Is it enough to say, Evil people dont have songs?
14. A contradiction in terms. The reference is to Bismarcks institution of the
Reich, or German Empire, in 1871. For Nietzsches view of the Reich, see especially What the Germans Are Missing, below.
26
I distrust all systematizers and stay out of their way. The will to a system is a lack of integrity.
27
Women are taken to be deepwhy? Because with them, one never gets
to the bottom of things. Women arent even shallow.
28
If a woman has masculine virtues, its enough to make you run away
from her; and if she has no masculine virtues, away she runs herself.
29
How much there once was for conscience to chew on! What good
teeth it had!And today? Whats it missing?A dentists question.
30
One rarely commits only one overhasty act. With the first, one always
does too much. For this very reason, one usually commits still another
and this time, one does too little . . .
31
A worm squirms when its stepped on. Thats prudent. In that way it
reduces the probability of being stepped on again. In the language of
morality: humility.
32
There is a hatred for lying and disguise which comes from a keen
sense of honor; there is another such hatred which comes from cowardice, because lying is forbidden by a divine commandment. Too cowardly
to lie . . .
10
33
How little it takes to make us happy! The sound of a bagpipe.Without music, life would be an error. The German even imagines God as
15
singing songs.
34
On ne peut penser et crire quassis [one cant think and write unless one
is seated] (Gustave Flaubert).Now Ive got you, you nihilist! Ass-idu16
ity is the sin against the Holy Spirit. Only thoughts that come by walking
have any value.
35
There are cases where were like horses, we psychologists: we get disturbed because we see our own shadow bobbing up and down in front of
us. Psychologists have to look away from themselves in order to see anything at all.
36
Are we immoralists doing harm to virtue?Just as little as the anarchists are harming the princes. Only since the princes have been shot at
have they been sitting securely on their thrones again. Moral: one must
take shots at morality.
37
Youre running ahead?Are you doing so as a shepherd? Or as an
exception? A third case would be the escapee . . . First question of conscience.
15. The German Fatherland, a song written in 1813 by Ernst Moritz Arndt, includes the lines, As far as the German tongue resounds / And to God in Heaven
sings its songs. But the German und Gott im Himmel Lieder singt can also be humorously misinterpreted as and God in Heaven sings songs.
16. Sitzfleisch literally means sitting-flesh, or buttocks. Metaphorically it means
assiduity, diligent effort.
11
38
Are you genuine, or just an actor? A representative? Or the very thing
thats represented? In the end you may simply be an imitation of an
actor . . . Second question of conscience.
39
The disillusioned one speaks.I looked for great human beings, but all I
ever found were the apes of their ideals.
40
Are you one who looks on? Or one who lends a hand?Or one who
looks away, turns aside . . . Third question of conscience.
41
Do you want to go along? Or go ahead? Or go on your own? . . . One
has to know what one wills and that one wills.Fourth question of conscience.
42
Those were steps for me; I climbed up over themthats why I had to
pass over them. But they thought I wanted to settle down on them . . .
43
What difference does it make if I am right in the end! I am much too
17
right. And whoever laughs best today also laughs last.
44
Formula for my happiness: a yes, a no, a straight line, a goal . . .
17. German idioms allow Nietzsche to make a small pun. He literally writes,
What difference does it make if I retain the right! I have too much right.
2
In my own case this disrespectful thought, that the great sages are
declining types, first occurred to me precisely in regard to an instance
where learned and unlearned prejudice most strongly opposes it: I recognized Socrates and Plato as symptoms of decay, as instruments of the
Greek dissolution, as pseudo-Greek, as anti-Greek (Birth of Tragedy,
1872). That consensus sapientiumthis I grasped better and betterdem18. Asclepius was the god of medicine. The second sentence within quotation
marks is based on Socrates last words according to Plato, Phaedo 118a; the first
sentence is Nietzsches interpretation of Socrates last words. For another reflection on the death of Socrates, see The Gay Science, 340.
19. Nietzsches regular use of the French words dcadence and dcadent expresses
his respect for many psychological and sociological ideas current in the France of
his day: see 4 of What the Germans Are Missing, below.
12
13
onstrates least of all that they were right about what they agreed on.
Instead, it demonstrates that they themselves, these wisest ones, were
somehow in physiological agreement, so that they took the same negative
stance toward lifeand had to take it.
Judgments, value judgments about life, for or against, can in the final
analysis never be true; they have value only as symptoms, they can be considered only as symptomsin themselves, such judgments are stupidities. One absolutely must reach out and try to grasp this astounding
finesse, that the value of life cannot be assessed. Not by the living, since they
are parties to the dispute; in fact, they are the objects of contention, and
not the judgesand not by the dead, for another reason.Thus, when
philosophers see a problem in the value of life, this even amounts to an
objection to them, a question mark attached to their wisdom, an unwisdom.What? And all these great sagesare we saying they werent only
dcadents, but they werent even wise to begin with?But here I come
back to the problem of Socrates.
3
Socrates belonged, in his origins, to the lowest folk: Socrates was
rabble. We know, we can still see for ourselves, how ugly he was. But
ugliness, which in itself is an objection, was among the Greeks virtually
a refutation. Was Socrates Greek in the first place? Ugliness is often
enough the expression of interbreeding, of a development thwarted by
interbreeding. In other cases it appears as a development in decline.
Forensic anthropologists tell us that the typical criminal is ugly: monstrum in fronte, monstrum in animo [monster in the face, monster in the
soul]. But the criminal is a dcadent. Was Socrates a typical criminal?
At any rate this wouldnt contradict that well-known judgment of a
physiognomist which sounded so offensive to Socrates friends. A visitor who knew about faces, when he passed through Athens, said to
Socrates face that he was a monstrumthat he contained all bad vices
and cravings within him. And Socrates simply answered: You know
20
me, sir!
20. Nietzsches story about Socrates and the physiognomist, which he continues
in 9 below, is based on Cicero, Tusculan Disputations IV, 37, 80. In Cicero, Socrates replies that vices are innate to him (insita).
14
4
Socrates dcadence is indicated not only by his admittedly depraved
and anarchic instincts, but also by the overdevelopment of the logical and
that rickety nastiness that characterizes him. And lets not forget those
auditory hallucinations which have been interpreted in religious terms as
21
Socrates daimonion [divine sign]. Everything about him is exaggerated, buffo [comical], a caricature; at the same time, everything is covert,
reticent, subterranean.I am trying to grasp the idiosyncrasy that is the
source of that Socratic equation: reason = virtue = happinessthe most
bizarre equation that there is, and one which in particular has all the
instincts of the older Hellenes against it.
5
With Socrates, Greek taste takes a turn in favor of dialectic. What is
really happening there? Primarily, a noble taste is thereby defeated; with
dialectic, the rabble rises to the top. Before Socrates, dialectical manners
were rejected in good society. They were taken to be bad manners, they
were a compromising exposure. The youth were warned against them.
And all such presentation of ones reasons was mistrusted. Respectable
things, like respectable people, just dont carry their reasons around on
their sleeves like that. Showing your whole hand is improper. Whatever
has to get itself proved in advance isnt worth much. Wherever authority
is still considered good form, so that one does not give reasons but
commands, the dialectician is a sort of clown: people laugh at him, they
dont take him seriously.Socrates was the clown who got people to take
him seriously: what really happened there?
6
Dialectic is chosen only as a last resort. Its well known that it creates
mistrust, that it is not very convincing. Nothing can be wiped away more
easily than a dialecticians effect: this is proven by the experience of every
gathering where people speak. It can only be self-defense in the hands of
those who dont have any other weapons. One needs to get ones rights by
force; otherwise, one makes no use of it. This is why the Jews were dialecticians; Reynard the Fox was one: what? And Socrates was one too?
21. See, for example, Plato, Euthyphro 3b and Apology 31cd.
15
7
Is Socrates irony an expression of revolt? Of the rabbles ressenti22
ment? Does he, as one of the oppressed, relish his own ferocity in the
knife-thrusts of the syllogism? Does he take revenge on the nobles whom
he fascinates?As a dialectician, one has a merciless instrument at hand;
one can play the tyrant with it; one compromises by conquering. The dialectician lays on his opponent the burden of proving that he is not an
idiot: he infuriates, and at the same time he paralyzes. The dialectician
disempowers the intellect of his opponent.What? Is dialectic just a form
of revenge in Socrates?
8
I have made it understandable how Socrates could be repulsive. Now
its all the more necessary to explain the fact that he was fascinating.
The first point is that he discovered a new kind of agon [contest], that in
this contest he served as the first fencing master for the noble circles of
Athens. He fascinated by stimulating the combative drive of the Helleneshe introduced a variant into the wrestling match between young
23
men and youths. Socrates was also a great erotic.
9
But Socrates surmised even more. He saw past his noble Athenians; he
grasped that his case, his idiosyncratic case, already wasnt exceptional.
The same kind of degeneration was silently preparing itself everywhere:
the old Athens was coming to an end.And Socrates understood that all
the world had need of himhis means, his cure, his personal device for
self-preservation . . . Everywhere, the instincts were in anarchy; everywhere, people were five steps away from excess; the monstrum in animo was
the general threat. The drives want to play the tyrant; we have to invent
a stronger counter-tyrant . . .
16
10
When one finds it necessary to make a tyrant out of reason, as Socrates
did, then there must be no small danger that something else should play
the tyrant. At that time rationality was surmised to be a rescuer; neither
Socrates nor his sick patients were rational by free choiceit was de
rigueur, it was their last resort. The fanaticism with which all Greek speculation throws itself at rationality betrays a situation of emergency: they
were in danger, they had to make this choice: either to be destroyed, or
to be absurdly rational . . .
The moralism of the Greek philosophers from Plato onward is the
result of a pathological condition; likewise their admiration for dialectic.
Reason=virtue=happiness simply means: we have to imitate Socrates and
produce a permanent daylight against the dark desiresthe daylight of
reason. We have to be cunning, sharp, clear at all costs: every acquiescence
to the instincts, to the unconscious, leads downward . . .
11
I have made it understandable how Socrates was fascinating: he
seemed to be a doctor, a savior. Is it necessary to go on and point out the
error which lay in his belief in rationality at all costs?It is a selfdeception on the part of philosophers and moralists to think that they can
escape from dcadence merely by making war against it. Escape is beyond
their strength: for what they choose as a means, as salvation, is itself just
another expression of dcadencethey alter its expression, they dont do
24. Socrates said that he had cast [his vices] out by reason: Cicero, Tusculan Disputations IV, 37, 80.
17
12
Did he even grasp this himself, this cleverest of all self-outwitters?
Did he tell himself this in the end, in the wisdom of his courage in the face
of death? . . . Socrates wanted to die: not Athens, but he gave himself the
poison cup, he forced Athens to give him the poison cup . . . Socrates is
no doctor, he said to himself softly, death is the only doctor here . . .
Socrates himself has just been sick for a long time . . .
Reason in Philosophy
1
You ask me whats idiosyncratic about philosophers? . . . There is, for
instance, their lack of a sense of history, their hatred for the very notion
of becoming, their Egyptianism. They think theyre honoring a thing if
25
they de-historicize it, see it sub specie aeterni if they make a mummy
out of it. Everything that philosophers have handled, for thousands of
years now, has been conceptual mummies; nothing real escaped their
hands alive. They kill and stuff whatever they worship, these gentlemen
who idolize conceptsthey endanger the life of whatever they worship.
For them, death, change, and age, like reproduction and growth, are
objectionsrefutations, even. Whatever is does not become; whatever
becomes is not . . .
Now, they all believe, desperately even, in what is. But since they cant
get it into their clutches, they look for reasons why its being withheld
from them. There has to be an illusion, a deception at work that prevents
us from perceiving what is; wheres the deceiver?Weve got the
deceiver! they cry happily, its sensation! These senses, which are so
immoral anyway, deceive us about the true world. Moral: free yourself
from the senses deceit, from becoming, from history, from the liehistory is nothing but belief in the senses, belief in the lie. Moral: say no to
everything that lends credence to the senses, to all the rest of humanity;
all that is just the masses. Be a philosopher, be a mummy, portray
monotono-theism with a gravediggers pantomime!And above all, away
with the body, this pathetic ide fixe [obsession] of the senses, afflicted
with every logical error there is, refuted, even impossiblealthough it
has the nerve to behave as if it were real! . . .
2
I set aside with great respect the name of Heraclitus. While the rest of
the mass of philosophers were rejecting the testimony of their senses
because the senses displayed plurality and change, he rejected the testimony of the senses because they displayed things as if they had duration
25. In its eternal aspectan expression used by Spinoza (Ethics, Part V, Propositions 2223, 29).
18
Reason in Philosophy
19
and unity. Even Heraclitus did not do justice to the senses. They do not
26
lie either in the way the Eleatics thought or in the way that he thought
they do not lie at all. What we make of their testimony is what first introduces the lie, for example, the lie of unity, the lie of thinghood, of substance, of duration . . . Reason is what causes us to falsify the testimony
of the senses. Insofar as the senses display becoming, passing away, and
change, they do not lie . . . But Heraclitus will always be in the right for
saying that being is an empty fiction. The apparent world is the only
world: the true world is just added to it by a lie . . .
3
And what fine tools of observation we have in our senses! This nose,
for instance, of which no philosopher has yet spoken with admiration and
gratitude, is in fact the most delicate instrument at our disposal: it can
register minimal differences in motion which even the spectroscope fails
to register. The extent to which we possess science today is precisely the
extent to which we have decided to accept the testimony of the senses
and learned to sharpen them, arm them, and think them through to their
end. The rest is an abortion and not-yet-science: that is, metaphysics, theology, psychology, epistemology. Or it is formal science, a theory of signs,
like logic and that applied logic, mathematics. In these formal sciences,
reality makes no appearance at all, not even as a problem; nor is there any
hint of the question of what value such a convention of signs has in the
first place.
4
The other idiosyncrasy of philosophers is no less dangerous: it consists in confusing what is first with what is last. They posit what comes at
the endunfortunately, for it should never come at all!the highest
concepts, that is, the most universal, the emptiest concepts, the final
wisp of evaporating realitythese they posit at the beginning as the
beginning. This, again, just expresses their way of honoring something:
the higher is not permitted to grow out of the lower, is not permitted to
have grown at all . . .
26. Followers of Parmenides of Elea (ca. 475 B.C.), who asserted that what is, is unchangeable, uniform, unitary, and indivisible. Becoming, as displayed by the senses, is thus pure illusion or non-being.
20
Moral: everything of the first rank has to be causa sui [caused by itself].
Origination from something else counts as an objection that casts doubt
on the value of what has thus originated. All the supreme values are of the
first rank, all the highest concepts, what is, the unconditioned, the good,
the true, the perfectall this cannot have become, and must consequently
be causa sui. But none of this can be at odds with itself either, it cant contradict itself . . . Thats where they get their stupendous concept
God . . . The last, the thinnest, the emptiest is posited as the first, as a
cause in itself, as ens realissimum [the most real being] . . . To think that
humanity has had to take seriously the brain diseases of sickly web-spinners!And it has paid dearly for having done so! . . .
5
Finally, lets present the different way in which we (I politely say
we . . .) view the problem of error and illusion. It used to be that one took
alteration, change, becoming in general as a proof of illusion, as a sign
that something must be there, leading us astray. Today, in contrast, it is
precisely to the extent that we are compelled by the prejudice of reason to
posit unity, identity, duration, substance, cause, thinghood, being, that
we see ourselves, as it were, entangled in error, forced into error; so sure
are we, on the basis of a rigorous self-examination, that it is here that the
error lies.
This case is just like that of the motions of the great star: in that case,
error has our eyes as its constant advocates, whereas in the first case, its
advocate is our language. In its origin, language belongs to the time of the
most rudimentary type of psychology: we encounter a crude set of
fetishes when we become conscious of the basic presuppositions of the
metaphysics of languageor, to put it plainly, reason. Reason sees actors
and actions everywhere: it believes in the will as an absolute cause; it
believes in the I, in the I as being, in the I as a substance, and projects its
belief in the I-substance onto all thingsthats how it first creates the concept thing . . . Being is thought into things everywhere as a cause, is
imputed to things; from the conception I there follows the derivative
concept being . . . At the beginning there stands the great and fatal
error of thinking that the will is something effectivethat will is an
27
ability . . . Today we know that it is just a word . . .
27. For further reflections on the will and being, see, for example, On the Genealogy of Morals, First Essay, 13, and below, The Four Great Errors, 3.
Reason in Philosophy
21
Much, much later, in a world that was more enlightened by a thousandfold, certitude, subjective certainty in manipulating the categories of
reason, entered the startled consciousness of the philosophers: they concluded that these categories could not come from experienceall experience stands in contradiction to them, after all. So where did they come
from?And in India, as in Greece, they made the same mistake: We
must already have been at home in a higher world at one time(instead
of in a far lower one, which would have been the truth!)we must have
been divine, since we have reason! . . .
In fact, nothing up to now has been more naively persuasive than the
error of being, as it was formulated by the Eleatics, for instance: after all,
it has on its side every word, every sentence we speak!Even the opponents of the Eleatics fell prey to the seduction of their concept of being:
this happened to Democritus, among others, when he invented his
28
atom . . . Reason in language: oh, what a tricky old woman she is! Im
afraid were not rid of God because we still believe in grammar . . .
6
You will be thankful to me if I condense such an essential and new
insight into four theses: I thus make it easier to understand, and I dare
you to contradict it.
First proposition. The grounds on which this world has been called
apparent are instead grounds for its realityanother kind of reality is
absolutely indemonstrable.
Second proposition. The distinguishing marks which have been given to
the true being of things are the distinguishing marks of nonbeing, of
nothingnessthe true world has been constructed by contradicting the
actual world: this true world is in fact an apparent world, insofar as it is
just a moral-optical illusion.
Third proposition. It makes no sense whatsoever to tell fictional stories
about another world than this one, as long as the instinct to slander,
trivialize, and look down upon life is not powerful within us: in that case,
we revenge ourselves on life with the phantasmagoria of another, better life.
Fourth proposition. Dividing the world into a true and an apparent
world, whether in the style of Christianity or in the style of Kant (a sneaky
28. Democritus (ca. 460370 B.C.) claimed that the world consisted of being and
non-being, or atoms (indivisible units) and the void.
22
Christian to the end), is merely a move inspired by dcadencea symptom of declining life . . . The fact that the artist prizes appearance over
reality is no objection to this proposition. For appearance here means
reality once again, but in the form of a selection, an emphasis, a
correction . . . Tragic artists are not pessimistsin fact, they say yes to
everything questionable and terrible itself, they are Dionysian . . .
30. An allusion to Kant, who lived all his life in Knigsberg, on the Baltic Sea. For
Kant, it is impossible for us to know about things in themselvesincluding
God, free will, and an immortal soul; however, rational morality obliges us to postulate such things.
23
24
6. We have done away with the true world: what world is left over? The
apparent one, maybe? . . . But no! Along with the true world, we have
also done away with the apparent!
(Midday; moment of the shortest shadow; end of the longest error;
31
high point of humanity; INCIPIT ZARATHUSTRA. )
Morality as Anti-Nature
1
All passions have a time when they are nothing but fatal, when they
drag their victim down with the heaviness of their stupidityand a later,
much later time when they marry the spirit, they spiritualize them32
selves. It used to be that on account of the stupidity in passion, one
made war against passion itself: one conspired to destroy itall the old
moral monsters are of one mind on this point, il faut tuer les passions
[the passions must be killed]. The best-known formula for this is in the
New Testament, in that Sermon on the Mount in which, by the way,
things are not contemplated from a height at all. For instance, there it is
33
said with reference to sexuality, if your eye offends you, pluck it out.
Fortunately, no Christian acts according to this prescription. To destroy
the passions and desires, merely in order to protect oneself against their
stupidity and the disagreeable consequences of their stupidity, seems to
us today to be itself an acute form of stupidity. We no longer admire dentists who pull out teeth so that they wont hurt anymore . . .
But on the other hand, its only fair to concede that on the soil from
which Christianity grew, the concept of spiritualizing the passions was
simply inconceivable. After all, the early Church fought, as is known,
against the intellectuals, on behalf of those who were poor in
34
spirit: how could one expect the Church to wage an intelligent war
against passion?The Church fights passion by cutting it out, in every
sense; its practice, its therapy is castration. It never asks, How does
one spiritualize, beautify, deify a desire?its discipline has always
emphasized eradication (eradication of sensuality, pride, the ambition to
rule, covetousness, vengefulness).But ripping out the passions by the
root means ripping out life by the root; the practice of the Church is an
enemy to life . . .
32. On the word Geist (spirit), see above, Epigrams and Arrows, 6. To vergeistigen (spiritualize) something is to integrate it into the higher, more refined
levels of human consciousness.
33. Matt. 5:29.
34. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven: Matt. 5:3.
25
26
2
The same means, castration, eradication, is instinctively chosen in the
struggle against a desire by those who are too weak-willed, too degenerate
35
to moderate their own desire: by those natures who need La Trappe, to
use a metaphor (and not to use one), some ultimate declaration of war, an
abyss between themselves and a passion. Radical means are indispensable
only for degenerates; having a weak will, or more precisely, being incapable of not reacting to a stimulus, is itself just another form of degeneration. Radical enmity, enmity to the death against sensuality, is always a
symptom that repays reflection: it justifies ones suspicions about the general condition of one who goes to this kind of extreme.
By the way, this enmity, this hatred reaches its peak only when such
natures no longer have enough stamina even for the radical therapy, for
the repudiation of their devil. Survey the whole history of priests and
philosophers, and artists too: the most poisonous words against the senses
have not come from the impotent, not even from the ascetics. They have
come from the impossible ascetics, from those who were in need of being
ascetics . . .
3
The spiritualization of sensuality is known as love: it is a great triumph
over Christianity. Another triumph is our spiritualization of enmity. It
consists in a deep grasp of the value of having enemies: in short, it is a way
of acting and drawing conclusions that is the reverse of what people used
to do. In every age, the Church wanted its enemies to be destroyed; we, we
immoralists and anti-Christians, see our own advantage in the Churchs
continued existence . . . In the political sphere, too, enmity has now
become more spiritualmuch more clever, much more reflective, much
more considerate. Almost every party grasps that its own interest, its own
self-preservation, depends on the opposing partys not losing its strength;
the same applies to politics on the grand scale. Above all, a new creation,
36
such as the new Reich, needs enemies more than it needs friends; only in
opposition does it feel that it is necessary, only in opposition does it
become necessary . . .
35. La Trappe was the original abbey of the highly disciplined Trappist monks.
Trappe literally means a trapdoor, metaphorically a trap or trick.
36. The new German Empire, proclaimed by Bismarck in 1871.
Morality as Anti-Nature
27
4
I put a principle into a formula. All naturalism in morality, that is,
all healthy morality, is ruled by an instinct of lifesome decree of life is
fulfilled by a particular canon of shall and shall not, some restriction
and hostility on lifes path is thereby shoved aside. Anti-natural morality,
that is, almost every morality that has been taught, honored, and preached
up to now, instead turns precisely against the instincts of lifeit is a
sometimes hidden, sometimes loud and bold condemnation of these
38
instincts. By saying, God looks into the heart, it says no to the lowest
37. This last remark makes more sense if we replace Twilight of the Idols with the
original title of this book, A Psychologists Idleness.
38. Luke 16:15.
28
and highest desires of life, and takes God to be lifes enemy . . . The saint
in whom God takes delight is the ideal eunuch . . . Life ends where the
kingdom of God begins . . .
5
Given that one has grasped the sacrilege of such a revolt against life,
like the revolt that has become nearly sacrosanct in Christian morality,
one has, fortunately, grasped something else as well: the uselessness, illusiveness, absurdity, and mendacity of such a revolt. A condemnation of life
by one who is alive is, in the end, just a symptom of a particular kind of
life: this does not at all raise the question of whether the condemnation is
justified or unjustified. One would have to occupy a position outside life,
and on the other hand to know it as well as one, as many, as all who have
lived it, in order to be allowed even to touch upon the problem of the
value of life: these are reasons enough to grasp that, for us, this problem is
an inaccessible problem. When we speak of values, we speak under the
inspiration, under the optics of life: life itself is forcing us to posit values,
life itself is valuing by means of us, when we posit values . . .
It follows from this that even that anti-natural morality that takes God
to be the antithesis and condemnation of life is just one of lifes value
judgments.A judgment made by which life? Which kind of life?But I
already gave the answer: declining, weakened, tired, and condemned life.
Morality as it has been understood up to nowas it was finally formu39
lated once again by Schopenhauer, as negation of the will to liveis
the dcadence-instinct itself, making itself into an imperative. Perish! it
saysit is the condemnation decreed by the condemned . . .
6
Finally, lets consider how naive it is in general to say, Human beings
should be such and such! Reality shows us a captivating treasury of types,
the exuberance of an evanescent play and alteration of forms. And some
pathetic bystander of a moralist says to all this, No! Human beings
should be different? . . . He even knows how human beings should be, this
39. Arthur Schopenhauer (17881860): pessimistic German philosopher who had
a great influence on the young Nietzsche. In his maturity, Nietzsche often criticizes Schopenhauer. See especially Raids of an Untimely Man, 2122, below.
Morality as Anti-Nature
29
40. Behold the man (the words Pontius Pilate used to refer to Jesus, according
to John 19:5)but also, behold man, behold what it is to be human. Nietzsche
himself uses Ecce Homo as the title of his summation of his own life and works
(written in 1888, published in 1908).
2
The most general formula that lies at the basis of every religion and
morality is, Do such and such, dont do such and suchthat will make
you happy! Or else . . . Every morality, every religion is this imperativeI call it the great original sin of reason, the immortal unreason. In
my mouth, this formula changes into its oppositefirst example of my
revaluation of all values: well-constituted people, happy ones, have
41. Discourses on the Sober Life (1558), by Luigi Cornaro (14751566). Nietzsche
owned a German translation of this book.
30
31
to do certain acts and instinctively shrink away from other acts; they
import the orderliness which is evident in their physiology into their
relations to people and things. In a formula: their virtue is the effect of
their happiness . . . Long life and many offspring are not the reward of
virtue; instead, virtue itself is that slow metabolism that, among other
things, also has a long life, many offspring, and, in short, Cornarism as its
consequence.
The Church and morality say, A race, a people is destroyed by vice
and luxury. My reconstituted reason says: when a people is perishing,
physiologically degenerating, the effects of this are vice and luxury (that is,
the need for stronger and stronger, more and more frequent stimuli, the
kind of stimuli that are familiar to every exhausted nature). This young
man gets prematurely pale and flabby. His friends say this is due to such
and such a sickness. I say: the fact that he got sick, that he did not resist
the sickness, was already the effect of an impoverished life, an inherited
exhaustion. The newspaper reader says: this party is destroying itself by
making such a mistake. My higher politics says: a party that makes such
mistakes is overit no longer has sure instincts.
Every mistake, in every sense, is the effect of degenerate instincts, of a
disintegrated will: this virtually defines the bad. Everything good is
instinctand consequently is easy, necessary, free. Exertion is an objection, the god is typically different from the hero (in my language: light feet
42
are the first attribute of godliness).
3
Error of a false causality.In every age we have believed that we know
what a cause is: but where did we get our knowledge, or more precisely, our
belief that we have knowledge about this? From the realm of the famous
internal facts, none of which has up to now proved to be factual. We
believed that we ourselves were causal in the act of willing; there, at least,
we thought that we were catching causality in the act. Likewise, we never
doubted that all the antecedentia [antecedents] of an action, its causes, were
to be sought in consciousness, and could be discovered there if we looked
for themdiscovered as motives: otherwise, the actor would not have
been free for the action, responsible for it. Finally, who would have disputed the claim that a thought is caused? That the I causes the
42. Cf. The Case of Wagner, 1: What is good is light; whatever is godly moves
on delicate feet: first proposition of my aesthetics.
32
4
Error of imaginary causes.Ill begin with dreams: a particular sensation, for instance, a sensation due to a distant cannon shot, has a cause
33
5
A psychological explanation of this error.Tracing something unfamiliar back to something familiar alleviates us, calms us, pacifies us, and in
addition provides a feeling of power. The unfamiliar brings with it danger,
unrest, and careour first instinct is to do away with these painful conditions. First principle: some explanation is better than none. Since at bottom all we want is to free ourselves from oppressive representations, we
arent exactly strict about the means of freeing ourselves from them: the
first representation that serves to explain the unfamiliar as familiar is so
beneficial that we take it to be true. Proof of pleasure (strength) as cri43
terion of truth.
43. As in his foreword, Nietzsche alludes to the biblical expression proof of
strength (I Cor. 2:4).
34
Thus, the drive to find causes is conditioned and aroused by the feeling of fear. Whenever possible, the why? should not so much provide
the cause for its own sake, but instead provide a type of causea relaxing,
liberating, alleviating cause. The fact that something already familiar,
something we have experienced, something inscribed in memory is posited as the cause, is the first consequence of this requirement. The new,
the unexperienced, the alien, is excluded as a cause.So we not only look
for some type of explanation as the cause, but we single out and favor a certain type of explanation, the type that eliminates the feeling of the alien,
new, and unexperienced, as fast and as often as possiblethe most customary explanations.
Consequence: one kind of cause-positing becomes more and more
prevalent, concentrates itself into a system, and finally comes to the fore
as dominant, that is, as simply excluding any other causes and explanations.The banker thinks right away about business, the Christian
about sin, the girl about her love.
6
The entire realm of morality and religion belongs under this concept of
imaginary causes.Explanation of the unpleasant general feelings. These
feelings are due to beings that are our enemies (evil spirits: the most
famous casemisunderstanding of hysterics as witches). They are due to
unacceptable actions (physical discomfort gets saddled with the feeling of
sin, of sinfulnessone always finds reasons to be dissatisfied with
oneself). They are punishments, payment for something that we shouldnt
have done, that we shouldnt have been. (Impudently generalized by
Schopenhauer into a statement in which morality appears as what it is, as
something that really poisons and despises life: every great pain, be it
bodily or spiritual, expresses what we deserve, for it could not come to us
44
if we did not deserve it.The World as Will and Representation, II, 666. )
They are the effects of thoughtless actions that turned out badly (the emotions, the senses, are posited as a cause, as responsible; physiological crises are interpreted as deserved with the help of other crises).
Explanation of the pleasant general feelings. These feelings are due
44. Nietzsche cites the 1863 Frauenstdt edition of Schopenhauers masterwork.
See Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, tr. E. F. J. Payne
(New York: Dover, 1966), vol. II, p. 580. In this passage Schopenhauer goes on to
claim that Christianity also looks at our existence in this light.
35
to trust in God. They are due to our awareness of good actions (the socalled good conscience, a physiological condition that sometimes looks
so much like a good digestion that it might be confused with it). They are
due to the successful outcome of our projects (a naive fallacy: the successful outcome of a project doesnt create any pleasant general feelings for a
45
hypochondriac or a Pascal ). They are due to faith, love, hopethe
46
Christian virtues.
In truth, all these supposed explanations are derivative states and
translations, so to speak, of feelings of pleasure or displeasure into a false
dialect: one is in a hopeful state because the basic physiological feeling is
once again strong and rich; one trusts in God because the feeling of fullness and strength gives one calm.Morality and religion totally belong
to the psychology of error: in every single case, cause and effect are confused; or truth is confused with the effect of what is believed to be true; or
a state of consciousness is confused with the causation of this state.
7
Error of free will.Today we have no sympathy anymore for the concept of free will: we know only too well what it isthe most disreputable
of all the theologians tricks, designed to make humanity responsible in
the theologians sense, that is, to make it dependent on them . . . Here I am
simply offering the psychology of all making-responsible.Wherever
responsibilities are sought, what tends to be doing the seeking is the
instinct of wanting to punish and rule. One has stripped becoming of its
innocence when some state of being-such-and-such is traced back to will,
to intentions, to acts: the doctrine of the will was essentially invented for
purposes of punishment, that is, for purposes of wanting to find people
guilty. All the old psychology, the psychology of will, is predicated on the
fact that its originators, the priests in the elites of ancient communities,
wanted to create a right for themselves to inflict punishmentsor wanted
to create a right for God to do so . . . Human beings were thought to be
free so that they could be ruled, so that they could be punishedso
that they could become guilty: consequently, every action had to be
thought of as willed, the origin of every action had to be thought to lie in
consciousness (and thus the most fundamental act of counterfeiting in psy45. In his Penses, Blaise Pascal (16231662) stresses the fragility and wretchedness of human life.
46. See I Cor. 13:13.
36
chologicis [in psychological matters] was itself made into the principle of
psychology . . .). Today, when we have started in the opposite direction,
when we immoralists are trying with all our strength to get the concepts
of guilt and punishment back out of the world, and to purge psychology,
history, nature, social institutions, and sanctions of these concepts, there
is in our eyes no opposition more radical than that of the theologians,
who, with the concept of the moral order of the world, go on infecting
the innocence of becoming with punishment and guilt. Christianity
is a metaphysics of the hangman . . .
8
What can be our doctrine alone?That nobody gives human beings
their qualities, neither God, nor society, nor their parents and ancestors,
nor they themselves (the nonsense of this last notion we are rejecting was
taught by Kant as intelligible freedom, and maybe was already taught
47
by Plato as well). Nobody is responsible for being here in the first place,
for being constituted in such and such a way, for being in these circumstances, in this environment. The fatality of our essence cannot be separated from the fatality of all that was and will be. We are not the
consequence of a special intention, a will, a goal; we are not being used in
an attempt to reach an ideal of humanity, or an ideal of happiness, or
an ideal of moralityit is absurd to want to divert our essence towards
some goal. We have invented the concept goal: in reality, goals are
absent . . .
One is necessary, one is a piece of destiny, one belongs to the whole,
one is in the whole.There is nothing that could rule, measure, compare, judge our being, for that would mean ruling, measuring, comparing, and judging the whole . . . But there is nothing outside the whole!
That nobody is made responsible anymore, that no way of being may be
traced back to a causa prima [first cause], that the world is not a unity
47. According to Kant, we can know only the sensible world of appearances (the
world of material objects in causal interaction), in which our actions, like the
movements of material objects, seem to be determined by factors beyond our control. We must assume, however, that in the intelligible world of things in themselves, we are perfectly autonomous beings who freely choose our actions. (The
term intelligible does not mean knowable, but only thinkable.) See e.g. Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals, 3. For a Platonic passage in which Socrates ascribes his actions not to his body, but to his own opinion of what is good, see
Phaedo 98b99b.
37
48
48. Usually this word refers to the sense organs as a whole, but Nietzsche may
mean a totality of sense-perceptions.
49. Literally, and we deny responsibility in God.
Those Who
Improve Humanity
1
My demand on philosophers is well-known: that they place themselves
beyond good and evilthat they put the illusion of moral judgment
beneath them. This demand follows from an insight which was formulated
for the first time by me: that there are no moral facts at all. Moral judgments have this in common with religious ones: they believe in realities
that are unreal. Morality is just an interpretation of certain phenomena,
or speaking more precisely, a misinterpretation. Moral judgments, like
religious ones, belong to a level of ignorance at which the very concept of
the real, the distinction between real and imaginary, is still absent, so that
truth at this level refers to all sorts of things which today we call fantasies. Thus, moral judgments can never be taken literally: literally, they
always contain nothing but nonsense. But they are semiotically invaluable
all the same: they reveal, at least to those who are in the know, the most
valuable realities of cultures and inner states that did not know enough to
understand themselves. Morality is just a sign language, just a symptomatology: you already have to know what its all about in order to get
any use out of it.
2
A first, completely provisional example. People have always wanted to
improve human beings: this, above all, was called morality. But hidden
under this same word is a completely different tendency. Both the taming
of the human beast and the breeding of a particular human species have
been called improvement: only this zoological terminology can express
the realitiesnaturally, realities of which the typical improver, the
priest, knows nothing and wants to know nothing . . .
To call the taming of an animal its improvement sounds almost like a
joke to our ears. Anyone who knows what happens in menageries has
doubts about whether any beast gets improved there. The beast gets
weakened, it is made less dangerous, and through the depressing feeling
of fear, through pain, through wounds and hunger, it becomes a sickly
beast.It is no different with the tamed human being whom the priest
38
39
has improved. In the early Middle Ages, when the Church was in fact a
menagerie first and foremost, the most beautiful exemplars of the blond
beast were hunted down everywherefor example, the noble Teutons
50
were improved. But what did such a improved Teuton look like,
once he had been lured into the cloister? Like a caricature of a human
being, like an abortion: he had become a sinner, he was stuck in a cage,
imprisoned among all kinds of awful concepts . . . There he lay now, sick,
wretched, with ill will towards himself; full of hate against the impulses to
live, full of distrust for everything that was still strong and happy. In
short, a Christian . . .
In physiological terms: in a struggle with a beast, making it sick can be
the only means of making it weak. The Church understood that: it corrupted human beings, it weakened thembut it claimed to have
improved them . . .
3
Lets turn to the other case of so-called morality, the case of the breeding of a particular race and type. The most magnificent example is pro51
vided by Indian morality, which in the form of the Law of Manu was
sanctioned as religion. This law sets the task of breeding no fewer than
four races at once: a priestly race, a fighting race, a race of merchants and
farmers, and finally a race of servants, the shudras. Obviously we are no
longer among animal tamers here: a type of human being a hundred
50. Nietzsche introduces the expression blond beast in On the Genealogy of
Morals, First Essay, 11. He probably has a lion in mind, and his expression refers
not only to blond Aryans, but to any strong, untamed, warlike people.
51. The Laws of Manu is an important Hindu text that sets forth, among other
things, the religious duties of kings and caste regulations; it is now believed to have
been composed between 200 B.C. and A.D. 100. Nietzsches source for this text is
Louis Jacolliots Les lgislateurs religieux: ManouMoseMahomet (1876). In a
letter of May 31, 1888, to Peter Gast, Nietzsche writes that he has found a great
lesson in a French translation of the Laws of Manu . . . This absolutely Aryan
achievement, a priestly codex based on the Vedas, the system of castes and a very
ancient traditionnot pessimist, although always priestlycompletes my ideas
on religion in the most remarkable manner. He relates the Laws of Manu to Plato,
Chinese thought, and medieval European thought, and proposes that the Jews, as
a chandala race (see next note), learned from their masters the principles on
which a clergy could organize a people and establish its power. For a further discussion of the Laws of Manu, see The Anti-Christ, 5758.
40
times more gentle and reasonable is the prerequisite for even conceiving
of such a breeding plan. We let out a sigh of relief as we step from the
Christian air of sickness and dungeons into this healthier, higher, broader
world. How pathetic the New Testament is in comparison to Manu,
how bad it smells!
But this organization, too, needed to be frighteningnot in struggle
with a beast this time, but with its own antithesis, with the nonbred
52
human being, the mishmash human being, the chandala. And once
again, it had no other means of making its antithesis harmless and weak
than to make it sickit was the struggle with the great mass. There may
be nothing more contrary to our sensibility than these safety measures of
Indian morality. The third edict, for example (Avadana-Shastra I), the
edict on unclean vegetables, commands that the only nourishment
allowed to the chandala must be garlic and onions, in consideration of the
fact that the holy writ forbids that they be brought grain or seed-bearing
fruits, or that they be given water or fire. The same edict declares that the
water they need may be taken neither from rivers nor springs nor ponds,
but only from the entries to swamps and from hollows made by animals
hooves. Furthermore, the chandalas are forbidden to wash their clothes or
to wash themselves, for the water which is provided to them as a favor may
be used only to quench their thirst. Finally, it is forbidden for the shudra
women to attend chandala women in birth, and similarly even for chandala women themselves to attend each other in birth . . .
The success of such policing of sanitation was not long in coming:
murderous plagues, horrible sexually transmitted diseases, and consequently the law of the knife, prescribing circumcision for the male children and the removal of the inner labia for the females.Manu himself
says: The chandalas are the fruit of adultery, incest and crime (this is
the necessary consequence of the concept of breeding). For clothing they
shall have nothing but rags from corpses; for dishes, broken pots; for
ornament, old iron; for worship, nothing but the evil spirits; they shall
wander without rest from one place to the next. It is forbidden to them to
write from left to right or to use their right hand in writing: the use of the
right hand and the left-to-right is reserved exclusively for the virtuous, for
the people of race.
52. A chandala is defined in The Laws of Manu as a child of a man from the shudra
caste and a woman from the priestly (Brahmin) caste. More generally, a chandala
is an outcaste or untouchable.
41
4
These provisions are instructive enough: in them we have, on the one
hand, Aryan humanity, completely pure and primordialwe learn that
the concept of pure blood is the very opposite of an innocuous con53
cept. On the other hand, it becomes clear in which people hatred, chandala hatred against this humanity became eternal, where it became
religion, became genius . . . From this point of view, the Gospels are a doc54
ument of utmost importance; the Book of Enoch, even more so. Christianity, which springs from a Jewish root and is understandable only as a
growth on this soil, represents the countermovement to every morality of
breeding, of race, of privilegeit is the anti-Aryan religion par excellence:
Christianity as the revaluation of all Aryan values, the triumph of chandala
values, the gospel preached to the poor, the lowly, the general rebellion of
all the oppressed, the miserable, the failures, the unfortunates, against
racethe immortal chandala vengeance as a religion of love . . .
5
The morality of breeding and the morality of taming are perfectly worthy of each other in the means they employ: we may posit as a supreme
principle that in order to make morality, one must have the unconditional
will to its opposite. This is the great, uncanny problem which I have pursued the farthest: the psychology of those who improve humanity. A
small and basically modest fact first gave me access to this problem: the
so-called pia fraus [pious fraud], the inheritance of all philosophers and
priests who have improved humanity. Neither Manu nor Plato nor
Confucius, nor the Jewish and Christian teachers, have ever doubted their
53. Whatever Nietzsche may mean by Aryan, he wishes to distinguish his own
position from the anti-Semitism he finds around him. For instance, in March 1887
he responds to Theodor Fritsch, the editor of the Antisemitic Correspondence and a
friend of his sister and brother-in-law, by objecting to this awful desire that dilettantes have to offer their opinion on the value of people and races . . . the constant and absurd falsifications and tidying up of the vague notions German,
Semitic, Aryan, Christianall this could in the end make me seriously
angry . . . (Smtliche Briefe, ed. Colli and Montinari, VIII, p. 51). This letter and
the one cited above in note 51 appear to be the only two occurrences in Nietzsches
correspondence of the adjective Aryan.
54. The Book of Enoch, one of the Pseudepigrapha of the Hebrew Bible, describes
a series of apocalyptic and cosmological visions.
42
right to lie. They havent doubted that they had very different rights as
well . . . To put it in a formula, one could say: all the means by which
humanity was to have been made moral up to now were immoral from the
bottom up.
Among Germans today, just having spirit is not enough: you also
have to take it, take it upon yourself to take it . . .
Maybe I know the Germans; maybe Im even allowed to tell them a
56
couple of truths. The new Germany represents a great quantity of
inherited and instilled ability, so that for a while it is allowed to spend its
piled-up store of strength, and even to be a spendthrift. It is not a high
culture that has become master with the new Germany, much less a delicate taste, a noble beauty of the instincts; instead, it is virtues more
manly than any other European country can show. A lot of fortitude and
self-respect, a lot of sureness in social interaction and in the reciprocity of
duties, a lot of diligence, a lot of enduranceand an inherited restraint
which needs to be goaded rather than braked. Let me add that here one
still obeys without being humiliated by obedience . . . And no one
despises his opponent . . .
You can see that I want to be fair to the Germans: I wouldnt like to be
untrue to myself in thisso I also have to raise my objection to them.
One pays a high price for coming to power: power stupefies . . . The Germansthey were once called the nation of thinkers: are they still thinking
today at all?The Germans are bored with the spirit now, the Germans
mistrust the spirit now, politics swallows up all seriousness about really
57
spiritual things.Deutschland, Deutschland ber alles : Im afraid that was
the end of German philosophy . . . Are there German philosophers? Are
there German poets? Are there any good German books? Im asked when
I go abroad. I blush, but with the bravery thats typical of me even in
hopeless cases, I answer: Yes: Bismarck!Could I even admit what
books are read today? . . . Damned instinct of mediocrity!
55. On the word Geist, see above, Epigrams and Arrows, 6.
56. Bismarcks German Empire, established in 1871.
57. Germany, Germany above all: title of best-known poem by A. H. Hoffmann
von Fallersleben (1841), used as the national anthem since 1922.
43
44
2
What the German spirit could bewho hasnt had melancholy
thoughts about that! But this people has voluntarily stupefied itself for
almost a thousand years: nowhere have the two great European narcotics,
alcohol and Christianity, been abused more viciously. Recently theyve
gotten still another narcotic, which is enough on its own to give the deathblow to all refined and keen suppleness of the spirit: music, our constipated, constipating German music.
How much tiresome heaviness, lameness, humidity, dressing-gown
stuporhow much beer there is in the German intellect! How can it possibly be that young men who devote their existence to the most spiritual
goals dont feel in themselves the first instinct of spirituality, the spirits
instinct of self-preservationand drink beer? . . . The alcoholism of scholarly youths may not call their scholarliness into questionone can even
be a great scholar without any spiritbut its still a problem in every
other respect.Is there anywhere you wouldnt find the gentle degeneration that beer brings about in the spirit? I once put my finger on such a
degeneration, in a case that has almost become famousthe degeneration of our foremost German free spirit, the clever David Strauss, into
the author of a beerhall gospel and new faith . . . It wasnt for nothing
that hed made his vow to the lovely brunette in versesfidelity till
58
death . . .
3
I was talking about the German spirit: about how its getting
coarser, how its getting shallower. Is that enough?At bottom its something completely different that scares me: the way German seriousness,
German depth, German passion in spiritual things are deteriorating more
and more. The fervor has changed, not just the intellectuality.Here and
there I come in contact with German universities: what an atmosphere
prevails among their scholars, what a barren spirituality that has grown
58. David Strauss (18081874): controversial author who argued in his Life of
Jesus (1835) that Christianity was based on myths, and proposed in The Old and the
New Faith (1872) that Christianity had to be replaced with a new faith based on
art and scientific knowledge. Nietzsche criticizes Strauss for accepting the modern
myth of progress in David Strauss, The Confessor and Writer, the first of his
Untimely Meditations (1873). The lovely brunette is beer.
45
4
Lets size it up: not only is it obvious that German culture is in
decline, but there is also no lack of a sufficient reason for this decline. You
cant ultimately spend more than you havethats true of individuals, its
true of peoples. If you spend yourself on power, on grandiose politics, on
economics, world trade, parliaments, military interestsif you give away
in this direction the quantity of understanding, seriousness, will and selfovercoming that you are, then this quantity isnt available in the other
direction. Culture and the statelets not fool ourselves about thisare
60
antagonists: the cultured state is just a modern idea. One lives off the
other, one prospers at the expense of the other. All the great ages of culture are ages of decline, politically speaking: what is great in the cultural
sense has been unpolitical, even anti-political . . . Goethes heart opened
59. As in 3 of Morality as Anti-Nature, the remark makes more sense if we substitute the original title of this book, A Psychologists Idleness.
60. Kultur-Staat: a common German expression for a country that possesses
higher culture.
46
5
The whole system of higher education in Germany has lost what is
most important: the end, as well as the means to the end. The fact that
62
education, cultivation is itself the goaland not the Reichthat this
63
goal requires educatorsand not prep-school teachers and university
scholarsthis has been forgotten . . . We need educators who are themselves educated, elevated, noble spirits who prove themselves at every
moment, prove themselves by what they say and what they keep quiet,
cultured spirits grown ripe and sweetnot the scholarly boors that prep
schools and universities offer as higher wet nurses to the youth today.
Not counting some most exceptional exceptions, the educators are missing, the first prerequisite for education is missing: that is why German culture is in decline.One of those rarest exceptions of all is my honorable
61. Goethe met Napoleon at the Congress of Erfurt in 1803 and kept aloof from
the anti-Napoleonic Wars of Liberation in 1813. For more on Goethe, see especially Raids of an Untimely Man, 4951, below.
62. Bildung: the formation of a human being into a mature, refined, and cultured
whole.
63. The word translated prep school in this section is Gymnasium, a form of secondary school that provides nine years of rigorous preparation for university studies. The higher schools are secondary schools in general.
47
friend Jacob Burckhardt, in Basel: to him, above all, Basel owes its preem64
inence in the humanities.
What the higher schools of Germany actually achieve is a brutal
breaking-in, with the purpose of making a huge number of young men
usable, exploitable for service to the state with the least possible waste of
time. Higher education and the huge numberthats contradictory to
begin with. Higher education always belongs to the exception: one must
be privileged in order to have the right to such a high privilege. No great,
no beautiful thing can ever be a common possession: pulchrum est paucorum hominum [the beautiful belongs to the few].
What is causing the decline of German culture? The fact that higher
education is not a prerogative anymorethe democratism of a cultivation that has become common, become commonplace . . . Lets not for65
get that military privileges formally require the overuse of the higher
schools, that is, their ruination.Nobody is free anymore in todays Germany to give his children a noble education: our higher schools are all
geared towards the most questionable mediocrity in their teachers, in
their teaching plans, in their teaching goals. And everything is dominated
by an indecent haste, as if something were spoiled when a young man,
twenty-three years of age, isnt done yet, doesnt yet know an answer to
the main question: which profession, which calling?Human beings of
a higher type, if I may say so, dont like callings, precisely because they
know that they are called . . . They have time, they take their time, they
dont think at all about getting doneat the age of thirty, when it
comes to high culture, one is a beginner, a child.Our overfilled prep
schools, our overloaded, stupefied prep-school teachers are a scandal: to
defend these conditions, as the professors at Heidelberg recently didfor
this, one may have motivationsbut reasons there are none.
6
In order not to be untrue to my type, which is a yes-saying type and
deals in contradictions and criticism only indirectly, only unwillingly, I
64. The well-known cultural historian Burckhardt (18181897) was Nietzsches
colleague when Nietzsche taught philology at the University of Basel from 1869 to
1879. Nietzsche made it a point of pride to send the first printed copy of Twilight
of the Idols to Burckhardt. On Burckhardt, see also below, What I Owe to the Ancients, 4.
65. Exemptions from military service accorded to students.
48
will set forth right away the three tasks for which educators are required.
One must learn to see, one must learn to think, one must learn to speak and
write. The goal of all three tasks is a noble culture.
To learn to seeto accustom the eye to composure, to patience, to letting things come to it; to put off judgment, to learn to walk around all
sides of the individual case and comprehend it from all sides. That is the
first preliminary schooling in spirituality: not to react to a stimulus right
away, but to keep in check the instinct to restrict and exclude. Learning to
see, as I understand it, is almost what is unphilosophically termed willpower: what is essential here is precisely not to will, to be able to put off
a decision. All unspirituality, all commonness is based on the inability to
resist a stimulusone has to react, one follows every impulse. In many
cases, such a compulsion is already sickliness, decline, a symptom of
exhaustionalmost everything that unphilosophical coarseness calls vice
is simply this physiological inability not to react.
A useful application of having learned to see: one will have become, as
a learner in general, slow, suspicious, and resistant. It will be with a hostile
composure that one will let strange new things of every sort make their
initial approachone will draw ones hand back from them. Leaving all
ones doors open, submissively flopping belly-down before every little
fact, a constant readiness to jump in and interfere, to plunge into other
people and other things, in short, the celebrated objectivity of modern
times is bad taste, is ignoble par excellence.
7
Learning to think: there is no concept of this in our schools anymore.
At the universities themselves, even among real scholars of philosophy,
logic as theory, as practice, as craft is starting to die out. Read German
books: not even the most remote recollection of the fact that thinking
needs a technique, a plan of study, a will to masterythat thinking wants
to be learned as dancing wants to be learned, as a kind of dancing . . . Who
among Germans still knows from experience that refined shudder which
light feet in spiritual matters send through all ones muscles?Wooden
clumsiness in spiritual behavior, grasping with a coarsely grabbing
handthat is so German that foreigners take it for the essence of Germany as such. The German has no fingers for nuances . . . The mere fact
that the Germans have been able to put up with their philosophers, especially that most misshapen concept-cripple there ever was, the great Kant,
gives you a pretty good idea of German grace.For we cannot subtract
49
dancing in any form from noble education, the ability to dance with feet,
with concepts, with words: need I add that one must also be able to dance
with the penthat one must learn to write?But at this point, I would
become a complete riddle for German readers . . .
51
ubertas [milky abundance]in our own language, the dairy cow with the
73
74
beautiful style. Michelet: or enthusiasm that rips off its jacket.
75
Carlyle: or pessimism as undigested lunch. John Stuart Mill: or clarity
76
as an insult. The Goncourt brothers: or the two Ajaxes in battle with
77
78
Homermusic by Offenbach. Zola: or the joy of stinking.
2
79
52
father confessor; his spirituality isnt free of the fat priestly smirklike all
priests, he is dangerous only when he loves. No one is his equal in lifethreatening adoration . . . This spirit of Renan, a spirit that enervates, is
one more disaster for poor, sick France with its sick will.
3
80
53
4
84
5
87
G. Eliot. Theyve gotten rid of the Christian God, and now they
think they have to hold onto Christian morality all the more: thats English
logic, we dont want to blame it on little moral females la Eliot. In
England, for every little emancipation from theology, you have to make
yourself respectable again as a moral fanatic in the most frightening way.
Over there, thats the penance one pays.
Things are different for the rest of us. If you give up Christian faith,
you pull the right to Christian morality out from under your feet. This
morality is simply not self-evident: one has to bring this point home again
and again, despite the English dimwits. Christianity is a system, a view of
things that is conceived as a connected whole. If you break off a major
concept from it, faith in God, you break up the whole as well: there are no
necessities left to hold onto anymore. Christianity presupposes that
human beings do not know, cannot know, what is good and evil for them:
they believe in God, who is the only one who knows it. Christian morality
is a commandment; its origin is transcendent; it is beyond all criticism, all
right to criticism; it is true only if God is truthit stands and falls with
faith in God.
84. The Imitation of Christ: a work of mystical asceticism by Thomas Kempis
(13791471).
85. Das Ewig-Weibliche: a well-known expression from the final scene of Goethes
Faust, Part II.
86. Auguste Comte (17981857): French positivist philosopher and social theorist
for whom humanity was the proper object of religious devotion.
87. George Eliot (pseudonym of Mary Ann Evans, 18191880): the well-known
English novelist was also the translator of Ludwig Feuerbachs anti-religious The
Essence of Christianity and David Strauss secular Life of Jesus (on Strauss, see
above, What the Germans Are Missing, 2).
54
6
88
George Sand.I read the first Lettres dun voyageur : like everything
that stems from Rousseau, false, contrived, full of hot air, overdone. I
cant stand this motley wallpaper style, any more than the vulgar ambition
to have generous feelings. Of course, whats worst is this female flirtation
with manly things, with the manners of rude boys.How cold she must
have been in all this, this insufferable authoress! She wound herself up
like a clockand wrote . . . Cold, like Hugo, like Balzac, like all romantics
as soon as they wrote poetry! And how pleased with herself she must have
been as she lay there, this fertile writing-cow, who had something German
in the bad sense about her, just like Rousseau himself, her master, and
who became possible anyway only with the decline of French taste!But
Renan worships her . . .
7
89
55
through and express the case, nature, the experience. . . . The universal is what first comes into his consciousness, the conclusion, the
result: he is not familiar with that willful process of abstracting from the
individual case.
What happens if you do otherwise? For example, if you do tabloid psychology in the manner of Parisian romanciers [novelists] great and small?
That approach lies in wait for reality, so to speak; that approach brings
home a handful of curiosities every evening . . . But just look at what
comes of this in the enda pile of scribbles, a mosaic at best, in any case
something added together, something restless, with loud colors. The worst
in this genre is what the Goncourts produce: they cant put together three
sentences that dont simply pain the eye, the psychologists eye.
Nature, in the judgment of an artist, is not a model. It exaggerates, it
distorts, it leaves gaps. Nature is chance. Studying from nature seems
like a bad sign to me: it betrays submission, weakness, fatalismlying in
the dust like this in front of petits faits [petty facts] is unworthy of a complete artist. To see what isthats typical of a different kind of spirit, the
anti-artistic, the factual kind. One must know who one is . . .
8
Towards a psychology of the artist.For there to be art, for there to be
any aesthetic activity and observation, one physiological prerequisite is
91
indispensable: intoxication. Intoxication must already have heightened
the sensitivity of the whole machine: otherwise, no art will be forthcoming. All kinds of intoxication, as different as their causes may be, have this
power: above all, the intoxication of sexual excitement, that oldest and
most primordial form of intoxication. Likewise the intoxication that follows all great cravings, all strong emotions; the intoxication of the festival,
of the competition, of daredevilry, of victory, of every extreme commotion; the intoxication of cruelty; the intoxication of destruction; intoxication due to certain meteorological influences, such as the intoxication of
spring; or under the influence of narcotics; finally, the intoxication of the
will, the intoxication of an overloaded and swollen will.
What is essential in intoxication is the feeling of increased strength and
fullness. This feeling leads us to donate to things, to make them take from
us, to force ourselves on themthis process is called idealizing. Lets get
91. Rausch: this word (compare the English rush) could also be translated as
frenzy, ecstasy, rapture, or transport.
56
9
In this state, your own fullness leads you to enrich everything: whatever you see, whatever you will, you see as swollen, packed, vigorous,
overloaded with strength. In this state you transform things until they are
mirrors of your own poweruntil they reflect your perfection. This
necessity to transform things into perfection isart. Even everything that
you are not turns into self-enjoyment; in art, human beings enjoy themselves as perfection.
It would be permissible to imagine an opposite state, a species of
instinctive anti-artistrya way of being that would impoverish all things,
thin them down, make them tubercular. And in fact, history is rich in
such anti-artists, such people with starved liveswho necessarily have to
clutch at things, emaciate them, make them thinner. For example, this is
the case with the genuine Christian, Pascal for example: there just is no
such thing as a Christian who is also an artist . . . I hope no one will be
childish and bring up Raphael as an objection to me, or some homeopathic nineteenth-century Christians: Raphael said yes, Raphael did yes,
and consequently Raphael was no Christian . . .
10
What is the meaning of the opposed concepts Apollinian and Dionysian
which I introduced into aesthetics, both taken as kinds of intoxica92
tion?
Apollinian intoxication keeps the eye excited, above all, so that it gets
the power of vision. The painter, the sculptor, the epic poet are visionaries par excellence. In the Dionysian state, however, the whole system of
emotions is excited and intensified: so it vents all its means of expression
at once and brings out the power of representing, imitating, transfiguring,
transforming, every sort of mimicry and acting, all at once. The essential
92. In The Birth of Tragedy (1872), 12, Nietzsche presents intoxication as the
force behind Dionysian artbut assigns Apollinian art to the world of
dreams, rather than the realm of intoxication.
57
thing is always how easy the metamorphosis is, the incapacity not to react
(much as with certain hysterics, who also jump into any role at the least
provocation). For Dionysian human beings, it is impossible not to understand any suggestion; they never overlook a sign of emotion, they have
the instinct for understanding and guessing the answer in the highest
degree, just as they possess the highest degree of the art of communication. They penetrate every skin, every emotion; they constantly transform themselves.
Music, as we understand it today, is also a total excitation and discharge of the emotions, but it is just the leftover of a much fuller expressive world of emotion, a mere residue of Dionysian histrionics. In order to
make music possible as a separate art, we have immobilized a number of
senses, the muscular sense above all (relatively, at least: for all rhythm still
appeals to our muscles to a certain degree), so that people no longer
immediately imitate and represent with their bodies everything they feel.
Nevertheless, that is the truly Dionysian normal state, or at least the primordial state; music is the specialization of this state, a specialization
which has been achieved slowly, at the expense of the most closely related
faculties.
11
The actor, the mime, the dancer, the musician, the lyric poet are fundamentally related in their instincts and are intrinsically one, but they
have gradually been specialized and separated from each othereven to
the point of contradicting each other. The lyric poet remained united the
longest to the musician; the actor, to the dancer.
The architect represents neither a Dionysian nor an Apollinian state:
here is the great act of will, the will that moves mountains, the intoxication of great will which longs for art. The most powerful people have
always inspired architects; the architect was always susceptible to the
influence of power. In a building, pride is supposed to make itself visible,
victory over heaviness, the will to power; architecture is a kind of oratory
of power in forms, sometimes persuading or even flattering, sometimes
simply commanding. The highest feeling of power and sureness finds
expression in that which has a grand style. Power which needs no additional proof; which disdains to please anyone; which does not easily give
answers; which is unaware of any witnesses to it; which lives without any
consciousness that anything contradicts it; which rests in itself, fatalistically, a law among laws: that speaks of itself in the grand style.
58
12
I read the life of Thomas Carlyle, this unwitting and unwilling farce,
this heroic-moralistic interpretation of dyspeptic states.Carlyle, a man
of strong words and attitudes, a rhetorician by necessity, who is constantly
irritated by the longing for a strong faith and the feeling of his own incapacity for it (in this, a typical romantic!). The longing for a strong faith is
not proof of a strong faith, to the contrary. If one has a strong faith, one
can afford the beautiful luxury of skepticism: one is sure enough, secure
enough, constrained enough for it. Carlyle deafens something in himself
with the fortissimo of the honors he pays to people of strong faith and with
his fury against those who are less single-minded: he needs noise. A constant, passionate dishonesty with himselfthats what is proper to him,
thats what makes him be and remain interesting.Of course, in England
hes admired precisely on account of his honesty . . . Well, thats English;
93
and considering that the English are the people of consummate cant,
its not only understandable but even fitting. At bottom, Carlyle is an
English atheist who makes it a point of honor not to be one.
13
94
59
tamquam re bene gesta [as if the deed had been well done]. Ut desint
96
vires, he said thankfully, tamen est laudanda voluptas.
14
Anti-Darwin.As for the famous struggle for life, for the time being
it seems to me more asserted than proved. It happens, but as the exception; the overall aspect of life is not a state of need and hunger, but instead,
wealth, bounty, even absurd squanderingwhere there is struggle, it is a
97
struggle for power . . . One should not confuse Malthus with nature.
But supposing that there is such a struggleand in fact, it does happenits result is unfortunately the opposite of what Darwins school
wants, maybe the opposite of what one might want along with the Darwinians: for it occurs at the expense of the strong, the privileged, the happy
exceptions. Species do not grow more perfect: the weak become the masters
of the strong, again and againbecause they are the great majority, and
also cleverer . . . Darwin forgot intelligence [Geist] (thats English for you!),
the weak have more intelligence . . . One has to need intelligence in order to
get intelligenceone loses it if one no longer needs it. Anyone who has
strength gets rid of intelligence (Let it go! they think today in Germany,
98
the Reich will still be ours . . . ). By intelligence, as you can see, I understand caution, patience, stealth, deception, great self-control, and all
99
mimicry (a large part of so-called virtue belongs in the last category).
15
Casuistry of psychologists.Theres someone who knows human
beings: what is his real purpose in studying them? He wants to get little
96. Though the power is lacking, the lust is to be praised. The original saying
(Ovid, Epistulae Ex Ponto III, 4, 79) has will (voluntas) rather than lust (voluptas).
97. Thomas Malthus (17661834): English economist known for his view that
population tends to increase faster than its means of sustenance. His views influenced Darwins formulation of the principle of natural selection.
98. A quotation from Luthers famous hymn A Mighty Fortress is Our God
where Reich refers to the kingdom of heaven, rather than to the German Empire,
and it is the things of this world.
99. Nietzsche uses the English word. Mimicry is an important type of evolutionary adaptation in which one species imitates another.
60
16
The psychological tact of the Germans seems to me to be called into
question by a whole series of cases which my modesty prevents me from
tallying up. But one case gives me an especially great opportunity to prove
my thesis: I hold a grudge against the Germans for making such a mistake
about Kant and his backdoor philosophy, as I call itthat was not the
paradigm of intellectual integrity.The other thing I cant stand to hear
is the notorious and: the Germans say Goethe and SchillerIm
afraid they even say Schiller and Goethe . . . Dont they know this
100
Schiller yet? There are even worse ands; with my own ears,
although only among university professors, I have heard Schopenhauer
101
and Hartmann . . .
17
The most spiritual human beings, if we suppose that they are the most
courageous, also experience by far the most painful tragedies: but for this
very reason they honor life, because it opposes them with all the force of
its opposition.
18
On the intellectual conscience.Nothing seems more rare to me today
than genuine hypocrisy. I strongly suspect that this plant cant stand the
100. On Schiller, see also 1 above. On Goethe, see also 4951 below.
101. For Nietzsches views on Schopenhauer, see e.g. 2122 below. Eduard von
Hartmann (18421906): German systematizing philosopher, author of the massive
Philosophy of the Unconscious (1869). For Nietzsches view of Hartmann, see 9 of
On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life (the second of his Untimely Meditations, written in 1873).
61
gentle air of our culture. Hypocrisy belongs to the ages of strong faith,
when even if you were forced to display a different faith, you didnt let go
of the faith you had. Today, one lets it go; or, even more frequently, one
piles yet another faith on top of the firstin any case, one remains honest.
Without a doubt, today its possible to have a much greater number of
convictions than ever beforepossible, in other words allowed, in other
words harmless. This is the origin of tolerance for oneself.
Tolerance for oneself permits one to have several convictions: these
convictions live comfortably with each otherthey take care, as the whole
world does today, not to compromise themselves. How do we compromise
ourselves today? By being consistent. By going in a straight line. By meaning fewer than five things at once. By being authentic . . . Im really afraid
that modern humanity is simply too comfortable for certain vices: so these
are just dying out. Everything evil that is due to a strong willand maybe
there is nothing evil without strength of willdegenerates, in our lukewarm air, into virtue . . . The few hypocrites I have met were imitating
hypocrisy: they, like almost every tenth person today, were actors.
19
Beautiful and ugly.Nothing is more conditional, or lets say more
constrained, than our feeling of beauty. Anyone who wanted to conceive of
it apart from human beings pleasure in themselves would immediately
lose all ground to stand on. The beautiful in itself is just words, not
even a concept. In the beautiful, humanity posits itself as the standard of
perfection; in special cases, it worships itself in the beautiful. A species
simply cannot do anything except say yes to itself alone like this. Its most
basic instinct, the instinct of self-preservation and self-expansion, still
shines through in such sublimities. Humanity believes that the world
itself is piled with beautywe forget that we are beautys cause. We alone
have endowed the world with beautyalas, only with a very human, alltoo-human beauty . . .
At bottom, human beings mirror themselves in things; they consider
anything beautiful if it casts their image back to them: the judgment
beautiful is the vanity of their species . . . For a little suspicion may whisper into the skeptics ear: is the world really beautified by the mere fact
that human beings take it to be beautiful? Theyve humanized it: thats all.
But nothing, nothing at all guarantees to us that we, of all things, should
serve as the model for the beautiful. Do any of us know what we look like
in the eyes of a higher judge of taste? Outrageous, maybe? Maybe even
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20
Nothing is beautiful, only the human being is beautiful: on this bit of
naivet rests all aesthetics, this is its first truth. Lets immediately add its
second: nothing is as ugly as a human being in the process of degenerationand that sets the limit of the domain of aesthetic judgment.Physiologically speaking, everything ugly weakens and oppresses human
beings. It reminds them of decline, danger, powerlessness; it actually
makes them lose strength. You can measure the effect of the ugly with a
dynamometer. Whenever human beings are depressed, they sense that
something ugly is nearby. Their feeling of power, their will to power,
their courage, their prideit all falls with the ugly and rises with the
beautiful . . .
In the one case as in the other we draw a single conclusion; the premises
for this conclusion are piled up massively in our instincts. The ugly is
understood as a signal and symptom of degeneration: whatever recalls
degeneration, be it ever so remotely, causes the judgment ugly in us.
Every sign of exhaustion, of heaviness, of age, of fatigue, every sort of
unfreedom, such as a cramp or paralysisabove all, the smell, color, and
shape of dissolution, of putrefaction, even if it is thinned out all the way
into a symbolall this provokes the same reaction, the value judgment
ugly. Here, a feeling of hatred leaps forth: whom do human beings hate
here? But there is no doubt: they hate the decline of their type. Here, they
hate from out of the deepest instincts of their species; in this hatred there
102. In Greek mythology, Ariadne helped Theseus escape from the Labyrinth
which held the Minotaur. Theseus then took Ariadne with him, but left her on
the island of Naxos, where the god Dionysus found her and married her. Here,
Nietzsche is alluding to writings of his own on the theme of Dionysus and
Ariadnewritings which were not famous at all, but were still unpublished at
the time of the appearance of Twilight of the Idols in 1888. In Ariadnes Lament,
a poem from Nietzsches Dionysus Dithyrambs, Dionysus says, Be clever,
Ariadne! . . . / You have small ears, you have my ears: / let a clever word into
them! / Must one not hate oneself before loving oneself? . . . / I am your
labyrinth . . . For another example of Nietzsches use of Dionysus and Ariadne,
see Beyond Good and Evil, 295.
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21
Schopenhauer.Schopenhauer, the last German worth considering
(who is a European event like Goethe, like Hegel, like Heinrich Heine, and
not just a local, national event), is for all psychologists a case of the first
rank: namely, as a wickedly ingenious attempt to enlist, in the service of a
nihilistic devaluation of life as a whole, precisely the counterexamples, the
great self-affirmations of the will to life, the forms of exuberant life.
One after the other, he interpreted art, heroism, genius, beauty, great
sympathy, knowledge, the will to truth, tragedy, as phenomena that followed from negation, or from the need for negation of the willthe
greatest act of psychological counterfeiting in history, with the exception
of Christianity. Considered more closely, in this he is just the heir of the
Christian interpretation: its just that he knew how to sanction even what
had been rejected by Christianity, the great cultural facts of humanity
sanction them in a Christian, that is, a nihilistic sense (that is, as paths to
salvation, as prefiguring salvation, as stimulants of the need for
salvation . . .).
22
Let me take a particular case. Schopenhauer speaks of beauty with a
melancholy ardorwhy, in the last analysis? Because he sees in it a bridge
on which one goes farther, or gets the thirst to go farther . . . For him,
beauty is momentary salvation from the willand it entices us to eternal salvation . . . He prizes art especially as a savior from the focal point
of the will, from sexualityin beauty, he sees the negation of the reproductive drive . . .
You amazing saint! Someone is contradicting youIm afraid its
nature. For whats the purpose of beauty anywaybeauty in tones, colors,
smells, rhythmic movement in nature? What does beauty bring out?Fortunately, a philosopher also contradicts him. No less an authority than the
divine Plato (as Schopenhauer himself calls him) maintains a different
proposition: that all beauty stimulates reproductionthat this is precisely
its own proper effect, from the lowest sensuality to the highest
103
spirituality . . .
103. See Plato, Symposium 206b207a.
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23
Plato goes farther. He says, with an innocence for which one has to be a
Greek and not a Christian, that there would be no Platonic philosophy
at all if there werent such beautiful youths in Athens: it was the sight of
them that first set the philosophers soul into an erotic flurry and gave it
no peace until it could plant the seed of all lofty things in such beautiful
104
soil. Another amazing saint!You cant believe your ears, assuming
that you trust Plato at all in the first place. At least you catch on that in
Athens they philosophized differently, above all, publicly. Nothing is less
Greek than the conceptual web-spinning of a hermit, amor intellectualis
105
dei in Spinozas style. Philosophy in Platos style would be better
defined as an erotic competition, as a development and internalization of
the old competitive gymnastics and of its prerequisites . . . What finally
grew out of this philosophical eroticism of Plato? A new art form of the
Greek agon [competition]: dialectic.
I will also recall, against Schopenhauer and to Platos credit, that all the
higher culture and literature of classical France also grew on the soil of sexual interest. You can search everywhere in this culture for gallantry, sensuality, sexual competition, womanand you will never search in vain . . .
24
Lart pour lart [art for arts sake].The battle against purpose in art is
always a battle against the moralizing tendency in art, against arts subordination to morality. Lart pour lart means: to hell with morality!
But even this hostility betrays the overpowering force of prejudice. If
we exclude the purpose of moral preaching and improving humanity from
art, it by no means follows that art in general is purposeless, aimless,
meaningless, in short, lart pour larta worm that bites its own tail. Better no purpose at all than a moral purpose!so speaks mere passion. A
psychologist asks, in contrast: what does all art do? Doesnt it praise?
Doesnt it ennoble? Doesnt it select? Doesnt it promote? In all of this, it
strengthens or weakens certain valuations . . . Is this just a side effect? An
104. See Plato, Phaedrus 251a252e and Symposium 208e209c. (In neither of
these dialogues does Plato speak directly; his Socrates expresses these views, and
in the Symposium Socrates ascribes them to the priestess Diotima.)
105. Intellectual love of God: the minds love for God, which is a manifestation
of Gods infinite self-love. See Spinoza, Ethics, Part V, Propositions 33, 3537.
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25
Getting along with people, keeping an open house in ones heart
thats liberal, but nothing more than liberal. You can recognize hearts that
are capable of noble hospitality by their many curtained windows and
closed shutters: they keep their best rooms empty. But why?Because
they are waiting for guests that one does not get along with . . .
26
We no longer think highly enough of ourselves when we communicate.
Our real experiences arent chattery at all. They couldnt communicate if
they wanted to. That means that there are no words for them. When we
have words for something, weve already gone beyond it. In all speaking
there is a grain of contempt. Language, so it seems, was invented only for
66
what is mediocre, common, communicable. In language, speakers vulgarize themselves right away.From a morality for deaf-mutes and other
106
philosophers.
27
107
28
The impersonal ones get a turn to speak.Nothing is easier for us
than being wise, patient, superior. We drip with the oil of considerateness
and sympathy, we have justice to the point of absurdity, we excuse everything. For this very reason, we should be a bit stricter with ourselves; for
this very reason we should, from time to time, cultivate a little emotion for
ourselves, a little vice of an emotion. It may be a bitter pill, and in each
others company we may laugh at how it makes us look. But whats the use!
We have no other way left to overcome ourselves: that is our asceticism, our
penance . . . Becoming personalthe virtue of the impersonal . . .
29
From a doctoral exam.
What is the task of all higher education?To make human beings
into machines.
106. For a more extended reflection on this topic, see The Gay Science, 354.
107. A line from Mozarts opera The Magic Flute, Act I, Scene 3.
108. I will look at myself, I will read myself, I will fall into a rapture, and I will
say: is it possible that I should have had so much wit?a quotation from a letter
of September 18, 1769, from Ferdinando Galiani (17281787) to Louise dpinay
(17261783). Galiani was an economist, dpinay a writer; both were active in Parisian intellectual circles. Here Galiani is begging dpinay to return a manuscript
to him.
67
30
The right to stupidity.The tired, slowly breathing worker with the
good-natured expression, who lets things go their own way: this typical
figure who in this age of work (and of the Reich!) is found in every social
class, lays claim today even to art, including books, newspapers above
allnot to mention the beauties of nature, Italy . . . The evening man,
110
whose wild instincts have fallen asleep, as Faust puts it, requires
summer resorts, beaches, glaciers, Bayreuth . . . In such ages, art has a
right to pure foolishnessas a sort of vacation for spirit, wit, and mind.
111
Wagner understood this. Pure foolishness is refreshing . . .
31
Another dietary problem.The means by which Julius Caesar protected himself against sickliness and headaches: immense marches, the
112
simplest form of life, uninterrupted outdoor living, constant toil
these, broadly speaking, are the general preservative regulations that protect one from the extreme vulnerability of that subtle machine, working
under the highest pressure, known as genius.
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32
The immoralist speaks.Nothing is more contrary to a philosophers
taste than human beings, insofar as they wish . . . If a philosopher sees
them only in action, even if these most courageous, most cunning, most
resilient animals are lost in labyrinths of distress, how worthy of admiration they seem! They are even inspiring . . . But the philosopher despises
the wishing human being, as well as the human being that is to be wished
forand all wishes in general, all human ideals. If philosophers could be
nihilists, it would be because they find nothingness behind all human ideals. Or not even nothingnessbut only what is worthy of nothing, what is
absurd, sick, cowardly, weary, all kinds of dregs from the emptied cup of
human life . . .
Human beings, who are so worthy of honor in realityhow is it that
they deserve no respect insofar as they wish? Must they atone for being so
capable as a reality? Must they balance their activity, the strain on the
head and the will that all activity involves, by stretching their limbs in the
realm of the imaginary and absurd?The history of humanitys wishes
113
was up to now its partie honteuse : one should beware of reading in it too
long. What justifies humanity is its realityit will justify it eternally. How
much more valuable is the actual human being, compared with any merely
wished-for, dreamed-up, stinking lie of a human being? With any ideal
human being? . . . And only the ideal human being is contrary to the philosophers taste.
33
The natural value of egoism.The value of selfishness is equivalent to
the physiological value of the one who has it: its value can be very great, or
it can be worthless and contemptible. All individuals can be viewed in
terms of whether they represent the ascending or the descending line of
life. Once we have settled this question, we have a criterion for the value
of their selfishness.
If they represent the ascending line, their value is in fact extraordinaryand for the sake of life as a whole, which with them takes a step forward, one may take extreme care to obtain and preserve the optimum
conditions for them. After all, the single one, the individual, as understood by both the masses and the philosopher up to now, is an error: the
113. Pudendaliterally, the shameful part.
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34
Christian and anarchist.When the anarchist, as the mouthpiece of the
declining levels of society, insists on right, justice, equal rights with
such beautiful indignation, he is just acting under the pressure of his lack
of culture, which cannot grasp why he really suffers, what he is poor in
in life . . .
A drive to find causes is powerful in him: it must be somebodys fault
that hes feeling bad . . . Even his beautiful indignation does him good;
all poor devils like to whineit gives them a little thrill of power. Even
complaints, the act of complaining, can give life the charm on account of
which one can stand to live it: there is a subtle dose of revenge in every
complaint; one blames those who are different for ones own feeling bad,
and in certain circumstances even being bad, as if they were guilty of an
injustice, a prohibited privilege. If Im a lowlife, you should be one too:
on this logic, revolutions are built.
Complaining is never good for anything; it comes from weakness.
Whether one ascribes ones feeling bad to others or to oneselfthe socialist does the former, the Christian, for example, the lattermakes no real
difference. What is common to both and, let us add, what is unworthy, is
that it should be someones fault that one is sufferingin short, that the
sufferer prescribes the honey of revenge as a cure for his own suffering.
The objects of this need for revenge as a need for pleasure are just the incidental causes: the sufferer finds causes everywhere for venting his petty
vengefulnessand if hes a Christian, to say it once again, he finds them
in himself . . .
The Christian and the anarchistboth are dcadents.Even when the
Christian condemns, slanders, and dirties the world, he does so from
the same instincts that lead the socialist worker to condemn, slander, and
dirty society: even the Last Judgment is still the sweet comfort of
revengethe revolution which the socialist worker is also awaiting, just
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35
Critique of the morality of dcadence.An altruistic moralitya
morality in which selfishness wastes awayis a bad sign under any circumstances. This applies to individuals, and it especially applies to peoples. What is best is missing when selfishness starts to be missing. To
choose instinctively what is harmful to oneself, to be enticed by disinterested motives, is virtually the formula for dcadence. Not to seek ones
own advantagethats just the moral fig leaf for a totally different state
of affairs, namely a physiological one: I dont know how to find my own
advantage anymore . . .
Dissolution of the instincts! Its all over for human beings when they
become altruistic.Instead of naively saying, Im not worth anything
anymore, the lie of morality says in the mouth of the dcadent: Nothing
is worth anythinglife isnt worth anything . . . Such a judgment is
always a great danger, it has an infectious effectthroughout the
unwholesome soil of society it soon spawns a tropical conceptual vegetation, sometimes as religion (Christianity), sometimes as philosophy
(Schopenhauerism). Under certain circumstances the fumes of such a
poisonous vegetation, born from putrescence, poison life itself, even for
thousands of years . . .
36
Morality for doctors.The sick person is a parasite on society. In a certain condition, living any longer is improper. Vegetating on, in cowardly
dependence on doctors and treatments, once the meaning of life, the right
to life has been lost, should incur the profound contempt of society. Furthermore, doctors should be the ones to convey this contemptnot prescriptions, but every day a new dose of disgust with their patients . . . To
create a new responsibility, the responsibility of the doctor, in all cases in
which the highest interest of life, of ascending life, demands that degenerating life be shoved under and shoved aside with no mercy whatsoeverfor
114. For another discussion of the Christian and the anarchist, see The Anti-Christ, 5758.
71
example, as regards the right to reproduce, the right to be born, the right
to life . . .
To die proudly when it is not possible to live proudly anymore. Death,
chosen of ones own free will, death at the right time, with brightness and
cheer, done in the midst of children and witnesses, so that it is still really
possible to take ones leave, when the one taking leave is still there, with a
real assessment of what one has achieved and willed, a summation of life
all the opposite of the pitiful and appalling comedy that Christianity has
made of the hour of death. One should never forget that Christianity
abused the weakness of the dying for the sake of conscience-rape, and
abused the manner of death itself for making value judgments on the person and the past!
What is necessary here above all, in spite of all cowardly prejudice, is to
establish the correct, that is, the physiological evaluation of so-called natural deathwhich ultimately is just another unnatural death, a suicide.
One never perishes at the hand of anyone but oneself. Natural death is
just death under the most contemptible conditions, an unfree death, a
death at the wrong time, the death of a coward. Out of love for life, one
should want a different death: free, conscious, without accidents, without
surprises . . .
Finally, a recommendation for those gentlemen the pessimists and
other dcadents. It is not up to us to prevent ourselves from being born,
but we can make up for this mistakefor sometimes it is a mistake. When
one does away with oneself, one does the most honorable thing there is: it
almost earns one the right to live . . . Societywhat am I saying!life
itself gains more advantage from suicide than from any life of renunciation, anemia and other virtuesone has freed the others from the sight of
one, one has freed life from an objection . . . Pessimism pur, vert [pure and
raw] is first proved by the self-refutation of the pessimist gentlemen: one
must go a step farther in ones logic, and not just negate life with will
and representation, as Schopenhauer didone must first negate
Schopenhauer himself . . .
Pessimism, by the way, as infectious as it may be, still does not increase
the sickliness of an age, of a species as a whole: it is the expression of this
sickliness. One succumbs to it as one succumbs to cholera: one already
has to be morbidly enough disposed to it. Pessimism itself produces not a
single dcadent more; I recall the statistical finding that the years in which
cholera rages are no different from other years in the total number of
cases of death.
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37
Whether we have become more moral.As was to be expected, against
my concept of beyond good and evil has been launched the whole ferocity of moral stupefaction that, as is well known, counts as morality itself in
Germany; I could tell some nice stories about this. Above all, I was told to
reflect on the undeniable superiority of our age in ethical judgment, the
115
real progress we have made in this area: a Cesare Borgia (they said), in
comparison to us, absolutely cannot be held up as a higher human being,
116
as a sort of overman, in the way I do . . . A Swiss editor at the Bund went
so far as to understand the meaning of my work, not without expressing
his respect for such courageous daring, to be that I was demanding the
117
abolition of all decent feelings. Much obliged! I allow myself, in reply,
to pose the question of whether we have really become more moral. The fact
that the whole world thinks so is already an objection to this claim . . .
We moderns, very tender, very easily wounded, giving and receiving
consideration in a hundred ways, actually imagine that this tender
humanity that we represent, this unanimity we have achieved in considerateness, in helpfulness, in mutual trust, is a positive step forward, and that
in this we have advanced far beyond the people of the Renaissance. But
this is how every age thinksthis is how it has to think. Certainly we
couldnt put ourselves into Renaissance conditions, or even think ourselves into them: our nerves couldnt stand that reality, not to speak of our
muscles. But this inability isnt evidence of any progress, just of a different and later constitution, a weaker, more tender, more easily wounded
constitution, which necessarily gives rise to a considerate morality. If we
thought away our tenderness and lateness, our physiological elderliness,
then our morality of humanization would also immediately lose its
valuein itself, no morality has valueit would even invite our scorn.
And on the other hand, lets not doubt that we moderns, with our thickly
padded humanity that doesnt want to knock against any stone, would be a
comedy at which the contemporaries of Cesare Borgia would laugh them115. Cesare Borgia (14751507): duke of Romagna, celebrated by Machiavelli in
The Prince for his ruthless tactics. Nietzsche describes Cesare Borgia as a healthy
predator in Beyond Good and Evil, 197.
116. bermensch. This is the only mention in Twilight of the Idols of this concept,
which Nietzsche develops at greatest length in Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
117. Sehr verbunden!a pun on the name of the newspaper. The editor in question was Josef Viktor Widmann, whose review appeared in 1886.
73
74
38
My concept of freedom.Sometimes the value of a thing lies not in
what we get by means of it, but in what we pay for itwhat it costs us. I
offer an example. Liberal institutions stop being liberal as soon as they
have been established: from that point forward, there is nothing that
harms freedom more severely and fundamentally than liberal institutions.
After all, we know what they bring about: they undermine the will to
power, they are the leveling of mountain and valley elevated into a morality, they make people small, cowardly, and pleasure-lovingwith liberal
institutions, the herd animal is victorious every time. Liberalism: in other
words, herd-animalization . . .
The same institutions bring about completely different effects as long
as they are still being fought for; then, in fact, they promote freedom in a
powerful way. Considered more closely, it is war that brings about these
effects, the war for liberal institutions, which, as war, lets the illiberal
instincts persist. And war educates for freedom. For what is freedom?
Having the will to responsibility for oneself. Maintaining the distance
that separates us. Becoming indifferent to trouble, hardships, deprivation,
even to life. Being ready to sacrifice people to ones cause, not excluding
oneself. Freedom means that the manly instincts, the instincts that cele119. Herbert Spencer (18201903): English philosopher, advocate of social
Darwinism. In The Gay Science, 373, Nietzsche denounces what he calls Spencers reconciliation of egoism and altruism at greater length.
75
brate war and winning, dominate other instincts, for example the instinct
for happiness. The human being who has become free, not to mention
the spirit that has become free, steps all over the contemptible sort of wellbeing dreamt of by grocers, Christians, cows, women, Englishmen, and
other democrats. The free human being is a warrior.
What is the measure of freedom, in individuals and in peoples? The
measure is the resistance that must be overcome, the trouble it costs to
stay on top. One would have to look for the highest type of free human
beings wherever the highest resistance is constantly being overcome: five
steps away from tyranny, right on the brink of the danger of servitude.
This is true psychologically, if one conceives of the tyrant here as inexorable and terrible instincts that demand to be countered with the maximum of authority and self-disciplinethe most beautiful type is Julius
Caesar; it is also true politically, just take a walk through history. The peoples who were worth something, who became worthy, never became worthy under liberal institutions: great danger made them into something that
deserves respect, danger, which first teaches us to get to know the means
at our disposal, our virtues, our defense and weapons, our own spirit
danger, which forces us to be strong . . .
First principle: one must need to be strong; otherwise, one never
becomes strong.Those great greenhouses for the strong, the strongest
sort of human being there has ever been, the aristocratic communities
such as Rome and Venice, understood freedom precisely in the sense in
which I understand the word freedom: as something that one has and does
not have, that one wills to have, that one conquers . . .
39
Critique of modernity.Our institutions are good for nothing anymore:
everyone agrees on this. But that is not their fault, its ours. Now that we
have lost all the instincts from which institutions grow, we are losing institutions altogether, because we are no good for them anymore. Democracy
was always the declining form of organizational force: in Human, All Too
Human (I, 472) I already characterized modern democracy and all democratic halfway measures, such as the German Reich, as a decaying form of
the state. In order for institutions to exist, there has to be a kind of will,
instinct, imperative, anti-liberal to the point of malice: the will to tradition,
to authority, to responsibility for centuries to come, to the solidarity of
chains of generations forwards and backwards in infinitum. If this will is
there, something like the imperium Romanum [Roman Empire] is
76
foundedor like Russia, the only power that has physical endurance today,
that can wait, that can still promise somethingRussia, the antithesis of
the pathetic European petty-state nonsense and nervousness which with
the foundation of the German Reich has reached a critical condition . . .
The entire West no longer has those instincts from which institutions
grow, from which a future grows: possibly nothing goes more against the
grain of its modern spirit than this. One lives for the moment, one lives
very quicklyone lives very irresponsibly: this is exactly what one calls
freedom. What makes institutions into institutions is despised, hated,
rejected: one thinks one is in danger of a new slavery whenever the word
authority is merely uttered. This is how far dcadence goes in the valueinstincts of our politicians, our political parties: they instinctively prefer
what dissolves them, what makes the end come faster . . .
A case in point: modern marriage. Obviously modern marriage has lost
all rationality: but this is an objection not to marriage, but to modernity.
The rationality of marriageit lay in the exclusive legal responsibility of
the husband: this is what gave marriage its center of gravity, while today it
limps on both legs. The rationality of marriageit lay in its indissolubility in principle: this is how it got a tone of voice which, as opposed to the
accident of feeling, passion, and the moment, knew how to make itself
heard. It lay, likewise, in the responsibility of families for selecting mates.
With our growing indulgence for marrying for love, we have eliminated
the very foundation of marriage, that which first makes an institution out
of it. An institution is never, ever founded on an idiosyncrasy; marriage,
as I said, is not founded on loveit is founded on the sex drive, on the
drive for property (woman and child as property), on the drive for domination which constantly organizes the smallest unit of domination, the familya drive which needs children and descendants in order to preserve an
achieved amount of power, influence, and wealth even on the physiological level, in order to prepare long-lasting tasks, instinctive solidarity
between centuries. Marriage as an institution already contains the affirmation of the greatest, most enduring form of organization: if society
itself cannot vouch for itself as a whole up to the most remote generations,
then marriage has no meaning at all.Modern marriage has lost its meaningconsequently, we are getting rid of it.
40
The question of the working class.The stupidityat bottom, the
degeneration of the instinctswhich is today the cause of all stupidi-
77
ties lies in the fact that there is a question of the working class. There
are certain things one does not ask about: primary imperative of
instinct.I just cant see what one wants to do with the European
worker now that one has made a question out of him. He is doing far
too well not to ask more questions, step by step, not to ask questions
less modestly. After all, he has the great mass on his side. The hope is
now completely gone that a modest and self-sufficient sort of human
being, a Chinese type, could build itself up into a class here: and this
would have been rational, it would virtually have been a necessity. What
has one done?Everything to nip in the bud the very prerequisites for
this developmentthrough the most irresponsible thoughtlessness,
one has destroyed the very basis of the instincts thanks to which a
worker becomes possible as a class, becomes possible for himself. One
has made the worker eligible for military service, one has given him the
right to unionize, the right to vote: so no wonder that today the worker
already experiences his existence as a crisis (expressed morally, as injustice). But what does one will? I ask once again. If one wills an end, one
must also will the means: if one wills to have slaves, one is a fool to educate them to be masters.
41
120
78
42
Where faith is needed.Nothing is more rare among moralists and saints
than integrity. They may say the opposite, they may even believe it: for if
faith is more useful, more effective, more convincing than conscious hypocrisy, then right away, hypocrisy instinctively turns into innocencefirst rule
for understanding great saints. Among the philosophers, too, another kind
of saint, its essential to their whole trade that they allow only a certain kind
of truths: namely, those for which their trade is publicly authorizedin
Kantian language, truths of practical reason. They know what they have to
prove, and in this they are practicalthey recognize each other by the fact
that they agree on the truths.Thou shalt not liein plain language:
watch out, Mr. Philosopher, and dont tell the truth . . .
43
Whispered into the conservatives ear.This is what was unknown earlier and is known today, or could be known todaya reversion, a reversal
in any sense or to any degree is completely impossible. We physiologists,
at least, know this. But all priests and moralists have believed in such a
thingthey wanted to bring humanity back, wind it back to an earlier
measure of virtue. Morality was always a Procrustean bed. Even the politicians have imitated the preachers of virtue in this: even today there are
parties whose dream and goal is for everything to do a crab-walk. But no
one is free to be a crab. Its no use: one must go forwards, that is to say, further, step by step, into dcadence (this is my definition of modern
progress . . .). One can hinder this development, and in this way block
up the degeneration, gather it up, make it more vehement and sudden:
more than that one cannot do.
44
My concept of genius.Great men, like great ages, are explosives in
which an immense force has been piled up; their prerequisite is always,
historically and physiologically, that things have long been gathered up,
piled up, saved, and preserved for themthat for a long time, no explosion has taken place. When the tension in the mass has grown too great,
the most casual stimulus is enough to call genius, the deed, the great
destiny into the world. What difference does environment make then, or
the age, the spirit of the age, or public opinion!
79
Take the case of Napoleon. The France of the Revolution, and prerevolutionary France even more, would have brought forth the type opposite to Napoleons type: it did bring it forth, in fact. And because
Napoleon was different, the heir of a stronger, longer, older civilization
than the one that was going up in smoke in France, he became the master
there, he was master only there. Great human beings are necessary, the
age in which they appear is accidental; the fact that they almost always
become masters of their age is simply due to the fact that they are stronger, that they are older, that things have been gathered up longer for
them. The relation of a genius to his age is like the relation between strong
and weak, or between old and young: the age is always relatively much
younger, thinner, more immature, less secure, more childish.
The fact that the French opinion on these questions is today very different (the German, too, but this is irrelevant), the fact that over there the
theory of the milieu, a real neurotics theory, has become sacrosanct and
virtually scientific, and has its believers even among the physiologists
this doesnt smell good, this leads one to sad reflections.In England,
too, they understand things no differently, but no one will bother with
that. For the Englishman there are only two available ways to deal with
the genius and the great man: either democratically, in the style of
121
Buckle, or religiously, in the style of Carlyle.
The danger that lies in great human beings and ages is extraordinary;
exhaustion of every sort, sterility follows upon their heels. The great
human being is an end; the great age, such as the Renaissance, is an end.
The geniusin work, in deedis necessarily a spendthrift: his greatness
lies in the fact that he spends himself . . . The instinct of self-preservation is
suspended, as it were; the overpowering pressure of the forces that are
flowing out forbids the genius every such care and precaution. One calls
this self-sacrifice; one praises the heroism of the genius in his indifference to his own good, his devotion to an idea, a great cause, a fatherlandall a misunderstanding . . . He flows out, he overflows, he uses
himself up, he doesnt spare himselffatally, disastrously, involuntarily,
just as a river breaks out of its banks involuntarily. But because one owes
so much to such explosives, one has also given them many gifts in return,
80
for example, a sort of higher morality . . . For this is the way of human
gratitude: it misunderstands its benefactors.
45
The criminal and what is akin to him.The criminal type is the type of
the strong human being under unfavorable conditions, a strong human
being who has been made sick. He lacks the wilderness, a certain freer and
more dangerous nature and form of existence, in which everything that is
a weapon and a defense in the instincts of the strong has a right to be. His
virtues are banned by society; the most lively drives he was born with have
been entangled right away with depressing emotions, with suspicion, fear,
dishonor. But this is virtually the recipe for physiological degeneration.
Anyone who has to do in secret what he can do best, what he would most
like to dowith drawn-out suspense, caution, slynessbecomes anemic.
And since he always reaps only danger, persecution, and disaster from his
instincts, even his feelings turn against these instinctshe feels they are
fatal. It is society, our tame, mediocre, castrated society, in which a natural
human being, who comes from the mountains or from seafaring adventures, necessarily degenerates into a criminal. Or almost necessarily: for
there are cases where such a person proves to be stronger than the societythe Corsican Napoleon is the most famous case.
For the problem that faces us here, the testimony of Dostoyevsky is
usefulDostoyevsky, the only psychologist, by the way, from whom I had
something to learn: he is one of the finest strokes of luck in my life, even
more than my discovery of Stendhal. This deep human being, who had the
right ten times over not to think much of the superficial Germans, lived
for a long time among Siberian convicts, really serious criminals, for
whom there could be no return to society. And the impression they made
on him was not at all what he had expectedhe perceived them as carved
from about the best, hardest, and most valuable wood that grows any122
where on Russian soil.
Let us generalize the case of the criminal: let us think of natures who,
for some reason, are deprived of public approval, who know that they are
not perceived as beneficial, as usefulthat chandala feeling of not count122. See Dostoyevskys The House of the Dead (1860). After discovering Dostoyevsky in January, 1887, Nietzsche mentions him thirteen times in correspondence over the next two years, always favorably and often enthusiastically.
81
46
124
Here the view is free. It can be elevation of the soul when a philosopher is silent; a philosophers self-contradiction can be love; a lying
politeness is possible in a knower. It has been said, not without subtlety: il
est indigne des grands coeurs de rpandre le trouble quils ressentent [it is
unworthy of great hearts to share the distress that they feel]. One must
simply add that having no fear of what is most unworthy can also be greatness of soul. A woman who loves sacrifices her honor; a knower who
loves may sacrifice his humanity; a god who loved became a Jew . . .
123. Catiline (ca. 10862 B.C.): Roman officer who organized a major conspiracy
in 63 B.C. He is the target of a famous accusatory oration by Cicero. Julius Caesar
(100 or 10244 B.C.) may have been involved in the Catilinarian conspiracy before
attaining renown as general and dictator.
124. A line from the last scene of Goethes Faust, Part II.
82
47
Beauty no accident.Even the beauty of a race or family, its charm and
grace in all its demeanor, has to be worked for: just like genius, it is the
final result of the accumulated work of generations. One must have made
great sacrifices to good taste, one must have done a lot against ones will
for the sake of good taste, and left a lot undonethe seventeenth century
in France is admirable in both respectsone must have used good taste as
a principle in choosing ones society, location, dress, sexual satisfaction,
one must have preferred beauty to advantage, custom, opinion, sloth.
Supreme guideline: one must not let oneself go, not even when one is
by oneself.
Good things are extraordinarily expensive: and there is an invariable
law that those who have them are not those who earn them. Everything
good is an inheritance: whatever is not inherited is imperfect, is just a
start . . .
In Athens at the time of Cicero, who expresses his surprise at this fact,
the men and youths were by far superior to the women in beauty. But
what work and effort the male sex had demanded of itself for centuries
there in the service of beauty!For one must not be mistaken about the
method here: merely training ones feelings and thoughts is worth practically nil (here lies the great misunderstanding in German education,
which is completely illusory): first one must convince the body. Keeping a
meaningful and select demeanor strictly in place, being committed to live
only with people who do not let themselves gothis is fully enough to
become meaningful and select: in two or three generations, everything has
already been internalized. It is decisive for the lot of a people and of
humanity that one begin culture at the right placenot in the soul (as
was the fatal superstition of the priests and semi-priests): the right place
is the body, demeanor, diet, physiology, and the rest is a consequence . . .
For this reason, the Greeks are still the first cultural event of historythey
knew, they did, what was needed. Christianity, which despised the body, is
the greatest misfortune of humanity up to now.
48
Progress in my sense.Even I speak of a return to nature, although it
is really not going back, but coming upup into high, free, even terrible
nature and naturalness, a nature that plays with great tasks, is allowed to
play . . . To put it in a metaphor: Napoleon was a piece of return to
83
49
Goethenot a German event, but a European one: a great attempt to
overcome the eighteenth century by a return to nature, by coming up to
the naturalness of the Renaissance, a sort of self-overcoming on the part
of that century.He carried its strongest instincts in him: sentimentality,
idolatry of nature, the anti-historical, idealistic, unrealistic, and revolutionary instincts (the last is just a form of the unrealistic). He availed himself of history, natural science, antiquity, Spinoza as well, and above all,
practical activity; he surrounded himself with all sorts of well-defined
horizons; he did not detach himself from life, but put himself into it; he
was not faint-hearted, and took as much as possible upon himself, above
himself, into himself. What he wanted was totality; he fought against the
separation of reason, sensation, emotion, and will (preached with the
most horrifying scholasticism by Kant, the antipodes of Goethe); he disciplined himself into wholeness, he created himself . . .
84
50
One could say that, in a certain sense, the nineteenth century has also
striven for everything that Goethe as a person strove for: universal understanding and approval, letting everything come close, a bold realism, a
respect for everything factual. How is it that the total result of all this is
no Goethe, but a chaos, a nihilistic sigh, complete cluelessness, an instinct
of exhaustion that in praxi [in practice] constantly impels us to reach back
to the eighteenth century? (For example, in the form of emotional romanticism, altruism and hyper-sentimentality, feminism in taste, socialism in
politics.) Isnt the nineteenth century, especially at its end, just a stronger,
cruder eighteenth century, that is, a century of dcadence? So that Goethe
was, not only for Germany but for all of Europe, just an interruption, a
beautiful in vain?But one misunderstands great human beings when
one looks at them from the petty perspective of public utility. The fact
that one knows no way of getting any use out of them may itself be part of
their greatness . . .
125. Most real beinga term normally applied only to God. On Goethe and
Napoleon, see also above, What the Germans Are Missing, 4. In manuscript,
Nietzsche writes that Goethes complement is Napoleon (to a lesser degree, Frederick the Great), who takes over the struggle against the eighteenth century.
85
51
Goethe is the last German I respect. He would have perceived three
things that I perceivewe also understand each other regarding the
126
cross . . .
I am often asked why I write in German at all: nowhere am I read more
poorly than in the fatherland. But who knows, in the end, whether I even
want to be read today?To create things on which time will try its teeth
to no avail; to be concerned in form, in substance with a little immortalityI was never humble enough to demand less of myself. The aphorism,
the pithy saying, of which I am the first master among Germans, are the
forms of eternity; my ambition is to say in ten sentences what everyone
else says in a bookwhat everyone else does not say in a book . . .
I have given humanity the deepest book that it possesses, my Zarathustra; I will shortly give it the most independent.
126. In Venetian Epigrams 66, Goethe says he cannot stand tobacco smoke, bedbugs and garlic and .
2
To the Greeks I owe no impressions that are comparably strong. And,
to come right out and say it, they cannot be for us what the Romans are.
127. Sallust (8634 B.C.): Roman historian and politician.
128. More lasting than bronze. I have erected a monument more lasting than
bronze (i.e., my poetry): Horace, Odes III, 30.
86
87
One does not learn from the Greekstheir way is too alien, and also too
fluid, to have an imperative effect, a classical effect. Who would ever
have learned to write from a Greek! Who would ever have learned it without the Romans! . . .
Please dont bring up Plato as an objection to me. In relation to Plato I
am fundamentally a skeptic, and I was always incapable of joining in the
admiration for Plato the artist which is traditional among scholars. In this
case, I ultimately have on my side the most refined arbiters of taste among
the ancients themselves. It seems to me that Plato mixes all the stylistic
forms together, and thus he is one of the first dcadents in style: he has
something similar on his conscience to what the Cynics had, who
129
invented the satura Menippea. In order for the Platonic dialogue, this
repulsively self-satisfied and childish kind of dialectic, to exert its charm,
one must never have read good French authorsfor instance, Fon130
tenelle. Plato is boring.Ultimately, my mistrust in the case of Plato
reaches into the depths; I find him so divergent from all the fundamental
instincts of the Hellenes, so overmoralized, such a Christian before his
timehe already takes the concept good to be the highest concept
that in regards to the whole Plato phenomenon I would rather use the
harsh expression exalted swindleor, if it sounds better, idealism
than any other. We have paid dearly for the fact that this Athenian went to
school with the Egyptians (or with the Jews in Egypt? . . .). In the great
disaster of Christianity, Plato is that ambiguity and fascination called an
ideal which made it possible for the nobler natures of antiquity to misunderstand themselves and to step on the bridge that led to the cross . . .
And how much Plato there still is in the concept Church, in the structure, system, and practice of the Church!
My recreation, my predilection, my cure for all Platonism has always
131
been Thucydides. Thucydides and, maybe, Machiavellis prince are most
closely related to me by their unconditional will to fabricate nothing and
to see reason in realitynot in reason, and still less in morality . . .
129. Menippus the Cynic (first half of the third century B.C.) originated this
genre, which expresses philosophical views in a humorous way, mixing verse and
prose.
130. Bernard le Bovier de Fontenelle (16571757): versatile French writer who
sided with the moderns in the literary quarrel of the ancients and the
moderns, attacking the ancient Greeks and their imitators in France.
131. Thucydides (ca. 460ca. 400 B.C.): Athenian historian, author of History of
the Peloponnesian War, known for his analysis of events in terms of power struggles.
88
3
Smelling out beautiful souls in the Greeks, golden means and
other perfections, admiring in them, for instance, calm in grandeur, an
ideal disposition, elevated simplicityI was protected from this elevated
simplicity, which is in the end niaiserie allemande [German foolishness],
by the psychologist in me. I saw their strongest instinct, the will to power;
I saw them tremble before the boundless force of this driveI saw all
their institutions arise from security measures, in order to make themselves safe in the face of each others inner explosives. The immense internal tension then discharged itself in frightening and ruthless external
hostility: the city-states ripped each other to shreds so that the citizens
might, each of them, attain peace with themselves. It was necessary to be
strong; danger was nearbyit lay in ambush everywhere. The wonderfully supple bodily character, the bold realism and immoralism that characterizes the Hellenes, was a necessity, not their nature. It was just a
consequence, it was not there from the start. And with their festivals and
arts, they wanted nothing but to feel superior, to show that they were superior: these were means of glorifying themselves, and in certain circumstances, of making themselves frightening . . .
To judge the Greeks, in the German fashion, by their philosophers, to
use, say, the simpleminded uprightness of the Socratic schools to eluci-
89
date what is essentially Hellenic! . . . After all, the philosophers are the
dcadents of the Greek world, the countermovement against the old, noble
taste (against the combative instinct, against the polis, against the value of
the race, against the authority of tradition). The Socratic virtues were
preached because the Greeks had lost them: excitable, fearful, inconstant
comedians all of them, they had a couple of reasons too many to let morality be preached at them. Not that it was any helpbut big words and attitudes suit dcadents so well . . .
4
For the sake of understanding the older, the still rich and even overflowing Hellenic instinct, I was the first to take seriously that wonderful
phenomenon that bears the name of Dionysus: it is explainable only in
terms of too much energy. Anyone who investigated the Greekssuch as
that deepest living connoisseur of their culture, Jacob Burckhardt of
132
Basel knew right away that with this, something had been achieved:
Burckhardt included a special section on this phenomenon in his Civilization of the Greeks. If one wants to see the opposite, one should look at
the almost amusing poverty of instinct of the German philologists when
133
they come close to the Dionysian. The famous Lobeck, in particular,
who crept into this world of enigmas with the respectable self-assurance
of a worm dried out between books, and convinced himself that being
nauseatingly flippant and childish made him scientificLobeck made it
known, sparing no pedantry, that there was really nothing to all these
curiosities. Of course, the priests might have communicated to the participants in such orgies some things not devoid of value, for instance, that
wine excites desire, that people can survive by eating fruit under certain
circumstances, that plants bloom in the spring and wither in the fall. As
for the bewildering wealth of rites, symbols, and myths of orgiastic origin
with which the ancient world was quite literally overgrown, Lobeck finds
an opportunity here to increase his cleverness by another notch. The
Greeks, he says (Aglaophamus I, 672), when they had nothing else to do,
used to laugh, jump, and race aroundor, since people sometimes have
132. On Burckhardt, see also above, What the Germans Are Missing, 5.
133. Christian August Lobeck (17811860), German classical philologist. His
Aglaophamus, an investigation of the origins of Greek religion, was published in
1829.
90
this desire too, they sat down, wept and wailed. Others then came along
and sought some reason for this remarkable activity. And thus, as explanations of these customs, arose those countless sagas and myths. On the
other hand, one believed that this comical behavior which now took place
on festival days also necessarily belonged to the festivities, and one took it
to be an indispensable part of the worship.
That is despicable blather, one will not take a Lobeck seriously for a
single moment. We feel completely different when we test the concept
134
Greek that Winckelmann and Goethe developed, and find it incompatible with that element out of which Dionysian art growsthe orgiastic. In fact, I have no doubt that Goethe would have excluded anything of
the sort in principle from the possibilities of the Greek soul. Consequently,
Goethe did not understand the Greeks. For only in the Dionysian mysteries,
in the psychology of the Dionysian condition, does the fundamental fact of
the Hellenic instinct express itselfits will to life. What did the Hellene procure in these mysteries? Eternal life, the eternal recurrence of life;
the future promised and made sacred in the past; the triumphant yes to
life beyond death and change; true life as collective survival through
reproduction, through the mysteries of sexuality. Thus, for the Greeks,
the sexual symbol was the ultimate revered symbol, the authentic, deep
meaning in all ancient piety. Every element of the act of reproduction, of
pregnancy and birth, awoke the highest and most festive feelings. In the
teachings of the mysteries, pain is declared holy; the pangs of the childbearer make pain in general holyall becoming and growth, everything
that vouches for the future requires pain . . . For there to be the eternal joy
of creation, for the will to life to affirm itself eternally, there must also
eternally be the torment of the childbearer . . .
All this is signified by the name Dionysus: I know no higher symbolism than this Greek symbolism, the symbolism of the Dionysian rites. In
them, the deepest instinct of life, the instinct for the future of life, for the
eternity of life, is experienced religiouslythe very way to life, reproduction, as the holy way . . . It was Christianity, on the basis of its ressentiment
against life, that first made something unclean out of sexuality: it threw
135
filth on the beginning, on the prerequisite of our life . . .
134. Johann Joachim Winckelmann (17171768): German archeologist and historian of ancient art.
135. On ressentiment, see above, The Problem of Socrates, 7, and Raids of an
Untimely Man, 3.
91
5
The psychology of the orgiastic as an overflowing feeling of life and
energy, where even pain works as a stimulant, gave me the key to the concept of the tragic feeling, which has been misunderstood as much by Aristotle as, especially, by our pessimists. Tragedy is so far from giving any
evidence for the pessimism of the Hellenes in Schopenhauers sense that
it instead has to count as the decisive rejection of and counterauthority to
136
such pessimism. Saying yes to life even in its most strange and intractable problems, the will to life, celebrating its own inexhaustibility by sacrificing its highest typesthat is what I called Dionysian, that is what I
found as the bridge to the psychology of the tragic poet. Not in order to be
released from terror and pity, not in order to purify oneself of a dangerous
137
emotion through its vehement dischargeas Aristotle understood it
but instead, beyond terror and pity, in order to be oneself the eternal joy of
becomingthat joy that also includes in itself the joy of destruction . . .
And thus I touch again upon the spot from which I first set outThe
Birth of Tragedy was my first revaluation of all values: thus I take my stand
again upon the ground from which grows my willing, my being ableI,
the final follower of the philosopher DionysusI, the teacher of the eternal recurrence . . .
136. On Schopenhauer and tragedy see also above, Raids of an Untimely Man,
21.
137. For Aristotles claim that the function of tragedy is katharsis, or the purgation of terror and pity, see his Poetics VI, 1.
92
Index
Cicero, 13, 16, 81, 82
Circe, 7
communication, 65, 66
Comte, 53
Confucius, 41
conscience, 6, 911, 27, 35, 60, 71
conservatives, 78
Cornaro, 3031
creation, 27, 83, 85, 90, 92
criminals, 13, 80, 81
cultivation (Bildung), 4647, 84
Dante, 50
Darwin, 59
death, 17, 18, 71, 90
dcadence, dcadents, xx, 1215, 16,
22, 28, 6971, 7378, 84, 8789
democracy, 47, 51, 75, 79
Democritus, 21
dialectic, 1416, 64, 87
Dionysus and the Dionysian, xiii,
xxii, 22, 56, 57, 62, 84, 8991
Dostoyevsky, 80
Bacon, Francis, x
Balzac, 54
Baudelaire, 52
beauty and ugliness, 6163, 82
becoming, 1819, 3537, 9091
being, 1921, 32
Birth of Tragedy, vii, xiii, 12, 56, 91
Bismarck, 8, 26, 43
Bizet, xxxxi, xxvii
blond beast, 39
body, xxixxii, 18, 82
Borgia, Cesare, 72
Brandes, viii, xi, xxv
Buckle, 79
Burckhardt, vii, 47, 89
94
France and the French, xii, xx, 12,
46, 5255, 64, 66, 74, 79, 82, 83,
87
Frederick the Great, 84
freedom:
and authority, 76, 77
and criminality, 80
and death, 71
and liberalism, 7475
and ugliness, 62
free spirits, 23, 44, 75, 81, 84
free will, 27, 30, 31, 35, 36,
71
French Revolution, 79, 83
Furius of Antium, 3
Gast, Peter (Heinrich Kselitz),
viiix, 4, 39
genius and geniuses, xii, 41, 52, 63,
65, 67, 7882
German Empire, 8, 26, 46, 59, 67,
7476
Germany and Germans, xxii, 8,
10, 41, 4348, 54, 59, 60, 63, 79,
80, 82, 85, 88
God, xviixviii, 6, 10, 20, 21, 27, 28,
32, 3537, 53
Goethe, xii, xxii, 45, 46, 53, 60, 63,
67, 81, 8385, 90
Goncourts, 51, 55
good and evil, 34, 38, 5354, 61, 72
Greeks, compared to Romans, xxii,
8687
guilt, 3536
happiness, 6, 1011, 14, 1617, 30
31, 36, 58, 75
Hartmann, 60
health and sickness, 12, 1617, 27,
3031, 3840, 67, 6971, 80
Hegel, 46, 63
Heidegger, xxii, xxvixxviii
Heine, 46, 63
Heraclitus, 1819
Index
ascending and descending,
68, 7071, 7374
purpose for, 6
right to, 71
struggle for, 59
value of, xviixviii, 1213
will to, 63, 9091
Liszt, 50
Lobeck, 8990
logic, 14, 19, 48
Lope de Vega, 58
love, xxiiixxiv, 6, 26, 41, 76
Luther, xxii, 59
Machiavelli, 72, 87
Malthus, 59
Manu, 3941
marriage, 76
mathematics, 19
Michelet, 51
Mill, J. S., 51
mind (Geist), 32; see spirit
modernity and moderns, 45, 48, 51,
61, 7278, 83
morality, vii, xii, xvixix, 910, 16
18, 21, 2531, 3442, 5354, 64,
68, 70, 7273, 7879, 83, 8789
Mozart, 66
music, vii, xi, xvxvi, xxxxi, 10,
44, 57
Napoleon, 46, 79, 80, 82, 84
nature:
and artists, 55
and beauty, 63
and criminals, 80
and literary women, 66
and morality, xvixix, 25
29, 36
and psychologists, 5455
and spirituality, 5
Goethe and, 8384
natural death, 71
return to, 50, 8283
95
negation, 13, 18, 2729, 44, 63, 71,
84, 86
nihilism, 10, 63, 68, 70, 84
Offenbach, 51
overman, 72
Ovid, 59
Parmenides, 19
Pascal, 35, 56
pessimism, 12, 22, 46, 51, 65, 71, 91
philosophy and philosophers (in
general), xii, xxii, 5, 6, 13, 16,
1824, 26, 38, 41, 43, 46, 48, 52,
6466, 68, 70, 78, 81
pity, xxiii
Plato, xxii, xxiv, xxvii, 12, 1416,
23, 36, 39, 41, 6364, 8788
Plutarch, 67
politics, xxiv, 26, 31, 43, 45, 60, 74
78, 84
positivism, 23, 53
priests, 26, 29, 30, 35, 3839, 41,
5152, 78, 81, 82, 89
psychology and psychologists, 3, 5,
10, 19, 3536, 46, 5455, 5960,
80, 88
Raphael, 56
reason and rationality, xii, 14, 16
21, 23, 3031, 51, 7677, 83, 87
Reich (German Empire), 8, 26, 46,
59, 67, 7476
religion, xvii, 30, 34, 35, 3841, 70,
90 (see also Christianity, God,
Jews, morality)
Renaissance, 7273, 79, 83
Renan, 51, 54
responsibility, 31, 3437, 74, 75
ressentiment, 15, 52, 90
revaluation, ixx, 3, 4, 30, 41, 91
revenge and vengefulness, 15, 21,
25, 41, 52, 69, 81, 90
Roman Empire, 75
96
Romans, compared to Greeks, xxii,
8687
romanticism and romantics, 52, 54,
58, 84
Rousseau, xii, xxiv, 50, 52, 54, 83
Russia and Russians, 8, 76, 80
Sainte-Beuve, 52
Sallust, 86
Sand, 50, 54
Schiller, 50, 60
Schopenhauer, 5, 28, 34, 46, 60, 63
65, 70, 71, 73, 91
science, 19, 45, 51, 52
selfishness, 68, 70
Seneca, 50
senses, 1819, 26, 34, 37
sexuality, xiixiii, xxixxii, 25, 40,
55, 63, 64, 76, 82, 90
sickness and health, 12, 1617, 27,
3031, 3840, 67, 6971, 80
socialism, 69, 74, 84
Socrates, xixii, xixxx, xxii, 12
17, 8889
sophists, 88
Spencer, 74
Spinoza, 18, 64, 83
spirit (Geist) and spirituality, 56, 8,
2527, 32, 37, 4348, 59, 60, 63,
67
Stendhal, 80
Strauss, David, 44, 53
suicide, 71
Twilight of the Idols, which deals with what we worship and why,
presents a vivid overview of many of Nietzsches mature ideas
including his attack on Platos Socrates and on the Platonic legacy
in Western philosophy and cultureand anticipates his projected
revaluation of all values. Accompanied by a fascinating Introduction by
Tracy Strong, Richard Polts new translation faithfully and beautifully
renders this highly formal, even musical, late work of Nietzsches,
which Nietzsche characterized as a very sharp, precise and quick
digest of my essential philosophical heterodoxies, and which offers
such an excellent introduction to his thought. Includes select
bibliography, notes, and index.
ISBN-13: 978-0-87220-354-9
90000
FnL1 00 0000
9 780872 203549