There is no such thing as health in itself, and all attempts to define
a thing in that way have lamentably failed. It is necessary to know thy
aim, thy horizon, thy powers, thy impulses, thy errors, and especially
the ideals and fantasies of thy soul, in order to determine _what_
health implies even for thy _body._ 163
Mystical explanations are regarded as profound; the truth is that they
do not even go the length of being superficial. 169
I set the following propositions against those of Schopenhauer
--Firstly, in order that Will may arise, an idea of pleasure and pain
is necessary. Secondly, that a vigorous excitation may be felt as
pleasure or pain, is the affair of the interpreting intellect, which,
to be sure, operates thereby for the most part unconsciously to us,
and one and the same excitation _may_ be interpreted as pleasure
or pain. Thirdly, it is only in an intellectual being that there is
pleasure, displeasure and Will; the immense majority of organisms have
nothing of the kind. 171
Prayer has been devised for such men as have never any thoughts of
their own, and to whom an elevation of the soul is unknown, or passes
unnoticed. 171
Sin, as it is at present felt wherever Christianity prevails or has
prevailed, is a Jewish feeling and a Jewish invention. 174
A Jesus Christ was only possible in a Jewish landscape--I mean in one
over which the gloomy and sublime thunder-cloud of the angry Jehovah
hung continually. 176
Where there is ruling there are masses: where there are masses there is
need of slavery. Where there is slavery the individuals are but few,
and have the instincts and conscience of the herd opposed to them. 183
We love the _grandeur_ of Nature and have discovered it; that is
because human grandeur is lacking in our minds. 186
Egoism is the _perspective_ law of our sentiment, according to which
the near appears large and momentous, while in the distance the
magnitude and importance of all things diminish. 187
He who knows that he is profound strives for clearness; he who would
like to appear profound to the multitude strives for obscurity. The
multitude thinks everything profound of which it cannot see the bottom;
it is so timid and goes so unwillingly into the water. 190
Thoughts are the shadows of our sentiments--always, however, obscurer,
emptier, and simpler. 192
**To laugh means to love mischief, but with a good conscience. 196
Virtue gives happiness and a state of blessedness only to those who
have a strong faith in their virtue:--not, however, to the more refined
souls whose virtue consists of a profound distrust of themselves and
of all virtue. After all, therefore, it is "faith that saves" here
also!--and be it well observed, not _virtue_! 198
Although the most intelligent judges of the witches, and even the
witches themselves, were convinced of the guilt of witchcraft, the
guilt, nevertheless, was not there. So it is with all guilt. 205
It makes me happy to see that men do not want to think at all of the
idea of death! I would fain do something to make the idea of life even
a hundred times _more worthy of their attention._ 215-216
I greet all the signs indicating that a more manly and warlike age is
commencing, which will, above all, bring heroism again into honour!
For it has to prepare the way for a yet higher age, and gather the
force which the latter will one day require,--the age which will carry
heroism into knowledge, and _wage war_ for the sake of ideas and their
consequences. 218-219
They are disagreeable to me, those men in whom every natural
inclination forthwith becomes a disease, something disfiguring, or
even disgraceful. _They_ have seduced us to the opinion that the
inclinations and impulses of men are evil; _they_ are the cause of our
great injustice to our own nature, and to all nature! There are enough
of men who _may_ yield to their impulses gracefully and carelessly: but
they do not do so, for fear of that imaginary "evil thing" in nature!
_That is the cause_ why there is so little nobility to be found among
men: the indication of which will always be to have no fear of oneself,
to expect nothing disgraceful from oneself, to fly without hesitation
whithersoever we are impelled--we free-born birds! Wherever we come,
there will always be freedom and sunshine around us. 229
Every one knows at present that the ability to endure contradiction is
a high indication of culture. Some people even know that the higher man
courts opposition, and provokes it, so as to get a cue to his hitherto
unknown partiality. But the _ability_ to contradict, the attainment of
_good_ conscience in hostility to the accustomed, the traditional and
the hallowed,--that is more than both the above-named abilities, and is
the really great, new and astonishing thing in our culture, the step of
all steps of the emancipated intellect: who knows that? 232
In the main all those moral systems are distasteful to me which say:
"Do not do this! Renounce! Overcome thyself!" On the other hand I am
favourable to those moral systems which stimulate me to do something,
and to do it again from morning till evening, and dream of it at
night, and think of nothing else but to do it _well,_ as well as it is
possible for _me_ alone!... 238
In pain there is as much wisdom as in pleasure: like the latter it
is one of the best self-preservatives of a species. Were it not so,
pain would long ago have been done away with; that it is hurtful is no
argument against it, for to be hurtful is its very essence. 247
One form of honesty has always been lacking among founders of religions
and their kin:--they have never made their experiences a matter of the
intellectual conscience. ... But we who are different, who are thirsty
for reason, want to look as carefully into our experiences, as in the
case of a scientific experiment, hour by hour, day by day! We ourselves
want to be our own experiments, and our own subjects of experiment. 248
Let us no longer think so much about punishing, blaming, improving!
We shall seldom be able to alter an individual, and if we should
succeed in doing so, something else may also succeed, perhaps unawares:
_we_ may have been altered by him! Let us rather see to it that our
own influence on _all that is to come_ outweighs and overweighs his
influence! Let us not struggle in direct conflict!--all blaming,
punishing, and desire to improve comes under this category. 249
Who could know how to laugh well and live well, who did not first
understand the full meaning of war and victory? 250
That delightful animal, man, seems to lose his good-humour whenever he
thinks well; he becomes "serious"! And "where there is laughing and
gaiety, thinking cannot be worth anything:"--so speaks the prejudice of
this serious animal against all "Joyful Wisdom." 252-253
If you had thought more acutely, observed more accurately, and had
learned more, you would no longer under all circumstances call this
and that your "duty" and your "conscience": the knowledge _how moral
judgments have in general always originated,_ would make you tired of
these pathetic words.... 261
We _would seek to become what we are,_--the new, the unique, the
incomparable, making laws for ourselves and creating ourselves! And for
this purpose we must become the best students and discoverers of all
the laws and necessities in the world. We must be _physicists_ in order
to be _creators_ in that sense,--whereas hitherto all appreciations and
ideals have been based on _ignorance_ of physics, or in _contradiction_
to it. 203
Our "benefactors" lower our value and volition more than our enemies.
265
It is always a _metaphysical belief_ on which our belief in science
rests,--and that even we knowing ones of to-day, the godless and
anti-metaphysical, still take _our_ fire from the conflagration kindled
by a belief a millennium old, the Christian belief, which was also the
belief of Plato, that God is truth, that the truth is divine. 279
Belief is always most desired, most pressingly needed where there
is a lack of will: for the will, as emotion of command, is the
distinguishing characteristic of sovereignty and power. That is to say,
the less a person knows how to command, the more urgent is his desire
for one who commands, who commands sternly,--a God, a prince, a caste,
a physician, a confessor, a dogma, a party conscience. 286
To seek self-preservation merely, is the expression of a state of
distress, or of limitation of the true, fundamental instinct of life,
which aims at the _extension of power,_ and with this in view often
enough calls in question self-preservation and sacrifices it. 289
The subtlety and strength of consciousness are always in proportion
to the _capacity for communication_ of a man (or an animal), the
capacity for communication in its turn being in proportion to the
_necessity for_ communication. ... _Consciousness generally has only
been developed under the pressure of the necessity for communication,_
--that from the first it has been necessary and useful only between man
and man (especially between those commanding and those obeying), and
has only developed in proportion to its utility. 296-297
The Church is under all circumstances a _nobler_ institution than the
State. 314
It seems to me one of my most essential steps and advances that I have
learned to distinguish the cause of the action generally from the
cause of action in a particular manner, say, in this direction, with
this aim. The first kind of cause is a quantum of stored-up force,
which waits to be used in some manner, for some purpose; the second
kind of cause, on the contrary, is something quite unimportant in
comparison with the first, an insignificant hazard for the most part,
in conformity with which the quantum of force in question "discharges"
itself in some unique and definite manner: the lucifer-match in
relation to the barrel of gunpowder. 317
I will never admit that we should speak of _equal_ rights in the love
of man and woman: there are no such equal rights. The reason is that
man and woman understand something different by the term love,--and it
belongs to the conditions of love in both sexes that the one sex does
_not_ presuppose the same feeling, the same conception of "love," in
the other sex. What woman understands by love is clear enough: complete
surrender (not merely devotion) of soul and body, without any motive,
without any reservation, rather with shame and terror at the thought
of a devotion restricted by clauses or associated with conditions. In
this absence of conditions her love is precisely a _faith:_ woman has
no other.--Man, when he loves a woman, _wants_ precisely this love from
her; he is consequently, as regards himself, furthest removed from the
prerequisites of feminine love; granted, however, that there should
also be men to whom on their side the demand for complete devotion is
not unfamiliar,--well, they are really--not men. A man who loves like
a woman becomes thereby a slave: a woman, however, who loves like a
woman becomes thereby a _more perfect_ woman.... Woman wants to be
taken and accepted as a possession, she wishes to be merged in the
conceptions of "possession" and "possessed"; consequently she wants
one who _takes,_ who does not offer and give himself away, but who
reversely is rather to be made richer in "himself"--by the increase
of power, happiness and faith which the woman herself gives to him.
Woman gives herself, man takes her.--I do not think one will get over
this natural contrast by any social contract, or with the very best
will to do justice, however desirable it may be to avoid bringing the
severe, frightful, enigmatical, and unmoral elements of this antagonism
constantly before our eyes. For love, regarded as complete, great,
and full, is nature, and as nature, is to all eternity something
"unmoral."--_Fidelity_ is accordingly included in woman's love, it
follows from the definition thereof; with man fidelity _may_ readily
result in consequence of his love, perhaps as gratitude or idiosyncrasy
of taste, and so-called elective affinity, but it does not belong
to the _essence_ of his love--and indeed so little, that one might
almost be entitled to speak of a natural opposition between love and
fidelity in man, whose love is just a desire to possess, and _not_ a
renunciation and giving away; the desire to possess, however, comes to
an end every time with the possession. 321-323
Everything that is thought, versified, painted and composed, yea, even
built and moulded, belongs either to monologic art, or to art before
witnesses. Under the latter there is also to be included the apparently
monologic art which involves the belief in God, the whole lyric of
prayer; because for a pious man there is no solitude,--we, the godless,
have been the first to devise this invention. 328
A "scientific" interpretation of the world as you understand it might
consequently still be one of the _stupidest,_ that is to say, the most
destitute of significance, of all possible world-interpretations....
An essentially mechanical world would be an essentially _meaningless
World!_ 339-340
We, the new, the nameless, the hard-to-understand, we firstlings of a
yet untried future--we require for a new end also a new means, namely,
a new healthiness, stronger, sharper, tougher, bolder and merrier than
any healthiness hitherto. 351
Another ideal runs on before us, a strange, tempting ideal, full of
danger, to which we should not like to persuade any one, because we
do not so readily acknowledge any one's _right thereto:_ the ideal
of a spirit who plays naively (that is to say involuntarily and from
overflowing abundance and power) with everything that has hitherto been
called holy, good, inviolable, divine; to whom the loftiest conception
which the people have reasonably made their measure of value, would
already imply danger, ruin, abasement, or at least relaxation,
blindness, or temporary self-forgetfulness; the ideal of a humanly
superhuman welfare and benevolence, which may often enough appear
_inhuman._ ... 352-353
V
"Thus Spake Zarathustra"
He student of Nietzsche can well afford to leave the reading of "Thus
Spake Zarathustra" _("Also Sprach Zarathustra")_ until he has prepared
himself for the task by studying Nietzsche's other and less obscure
books. In both its conception and execution it differs markedly from
all the works which preceded and followed it. It is written in an
archaic and poetical style, and in many places is purposely obscure.
Nietzsche did not intend it for the general public, and the fourth part
was not published until seven years after its completion. It would
have been better had "Zarathustra" been withheld from the presses
until Nietzsche's other works had gained a wider recognition, for
it unfortunately lays itself open to all manner of misunderstanding
and misinterpretation. In fact, it is impossible to read "Thus Spake
Zarathustra" comprehendingly until several of the other books of this
philosopher, such as "The Dawn of Day," "The Genealogy of Morals" and
"Beyond Good and Evil," have been consumed and assimilated.
Unfortunately this book, because of the attractive medium of its
style, was one of the first to fall into the hands of English speaking
people. For many years it was the principal source of the many
false accusations against Nietzsche which gained wide circulation.
The figures of speech contained in it and the numerous parables
which are used to set forth its ideas lend themselves all too
easily to falsities of judgment and erroneous evaluations. Reading
the book unpreparedly one may find what appear to be unexplainable
contradictions and ethical sophistries. Above all, one may wrongly
sense the absence of that higher ethical virtue which is denied
Nietzsche in quarters where he is least understood, but which every
close student of his works knows to form the basis of his thought.
Nietzsche began the writing of "Thus Spake Zarathustra" early in the
year 1883, and he did not finish it until the middle of February,
1885. The actual conception of the book came much before this time
even, as far back as the summer of 1881. This is when the idea of
eternal recurrence first took possession of him. At once he began
making notes, using this idea as the basis of Zarathustra's teachings.
At this time Nietzsche was just recovering from a siege of ill health
which had extended over many years, and no doubt the buoyant and
rhapsodic form in which he conceived this work was due to his sudden
acquisition of bodily health. The first part was written in ten days,
the second part a few months later, and the third part in the autumn of
the same year. But it was not until after a lapse of eighteen months
that the fourth and last section was completed. Because of this long
interval we see a radical difference between the first three parts of
the book and the last part. The language remains very much the same
throughout--spectacular, poetic and symbolic--but the form is changed.
The epigrammatic and non-sequacious mandates give way to a long
connected parable. The psalmodie brevity of the utterances of the first
three sections is supplanted by description and narrative. A story
runs through the entire fourth part; and it is in the obscurities of
this fable, rather than in any specific statements, that we must seek
the gist of Nietzsche's doctrines. This would be an impossible task
were we not more or less familiar with his other books. Yet, once we
understand the general trend of his thought, we can penetrate at once
to the meanings hidden in the fantastic divagations of his story and
can understand the dithyrambic utterances of both Zarathustra and the
"higher men" in the cave.
"Thus Spake Zarathustra" is unique for the reason that there are few
points in Nietzsche's system of ethic--and for the most part they are
the unimportant ones--which we cannot find somewhere in its pages. But
do not think that one can grasp an idea of the sweep of his entire
thought merely by reading this book. Even in the most simply worded and
most lucidly phrased passages one would find difficulty in following
the steps in his philosophy, unless there had been considerable
preparatory study. To be sure, there are numerous isolated epigrams
and bits of observation which are easily understood, but their mere
isolation very often robs them of the true meaning they hold when
related to the other precepts. The very literalness with which these
passages have been taken by those who have read "Zarathustra" before
studying any of the other works of Nietzsche, accounts in a large
measure for the ignorance in which he is held even by those who profess
to have read him and understood him. A philosophy such as his, the
outposts of which are so far removed from the routine of our present
social life, is naturally hampered by the restricted connotation of
current words--even those technical words used to express abstract and
infinite things. For this reason it is inevitable that false meanings
should attach to many of his statements, and that misunderstandings
should arise in quarters where there does not exist a previous general
knowledge of the co-ordinated structure of his teachings. This general
knowledge cannot be gained from "Thus Spake Zarathustra." Many of its
pages are entirely without significance to the reader not already
acquainted with Nietzsche's thought. And much of its nomenclature is
meaningless without the explanations to be found in the main body of
his work.
For the reader, however, who picks up this book after having equipped
himself for an understanding of it, there is much of fascination and
stimulation. Nietzsche regarded it as his most intimate and personal,
and therefore his most important, work. He even had plans for two
more parts which were to be included in it. But these were never
finished. The indifference with which the book was received, even
by those on whose sympathy and understanding he had most counted,
reacted unfavourably upon him. It is nevertheless, just as it stands,
one of the most remarkable pieces of philosophic literature of modern
times. Its form alone makes it unique. Instead of stating his beliefs
directly and without circumlocution, as was always his method both
before and after the writing of this book, Nietzsche chose for his
mouthpiece a poet and philosopher borrowed from the Persians, namely:
Zoroaster. This sage of the ancients was used as a symbol of the higher
man. Into his mouth were put Nietzsche's own ideas in the form of
parables, admonitions, exhortations and discourses. The wanderings and
experiences of this Zoroaster are chronicled, and each event in his
life embodies a meaning in direct accord with the Nietzschean system of
conduct.
Because of the Persian origin of Zoroaster one might imagine that
influences of Persian philosophy would be discoverable in the teachings
of this nomadic poet. But with the name all similarity between the
spokesman and his doctrines ends. Nietzsche's choice of Zoroaster
as his mouthpiece grew out of his early admiration for the Persians
who, he declared, "were the first to take a broad and comprehensive
view of history." As we see Zoroaster in this book we recognise him
at once as none other than Nietzsche himself; and the experiences
through which he goes in his wanderings are but picturesquely stated
accounts of Nietzsche's own sufferings, raptures, aspirations and
disappointments. To those familiar with Nietzsche's life, many of the
characters introduced in the book will be recognised as portraitures of
men whose lives crossed that of the philosopher. Likewise, many of the
parables and fables are thinly disguised accounts of the incidents in
his own life. In the last part of the book we find Nietzsche creating
a fantastic poet to represent Wagner, and holding him up to severe and
uncompromising criticism.
Zoroaster, as he appears in this book, is an itinerant law-giver
and prophet who seeks the waste places of the earth, the mountains,
plains and sea shores, avoiding mankind and carrying with him two
symbolic animals, an eagle and a snake. At the end of his wanderings
he discovers a lion which is for him the sign that his journey is
drawing to a close, for this lion represents all that is best and
most powerful in nature. The book is comprised of the discourses and
sermons which Zoroaster delivers from day to day to the occasional
disciples and unbelievers who cross the path of his wanderings. There
are conversations between him and his accompanying animals; and in the
last part of the book he gathers together in his cave a number of men
representing types of the higher man and talks with them. In all his
discourses he makes use of a rhapsodic and poetic style, not unlike
that found in the Psalms of David. The text telling of Zoroaster's
wanderings and experiences is cast in the manner of the early religious
books of the Orientals.
"Thus Spake Zarathustra" was the first book to follow "Human,
All-Too-Human," "The Dawn of Day" and "The Joyful Wisdom," and many of
Nietzsche's constructive ideas are presented here for the first time.
Part I is more lucid and can be more easily understood than the parts
which follow. In it Nietzsche designates the classes of humanity and
differentiates between them. His three famous metamorphoses of the
spirit--symbolised by the camel, the lion and the child--are stated
and explained. Here we find the philosopher's most widely quoted
passages pertaining to marriage and child-bearing; his doctrine of
war and peace; and those passages wherein he reverses the beatitudes.
The passions and preferences of the individual are criticised in
their relation to the higher man, and the more obvious instincts are
analysed. Nietzsche outlines methods of conduct, and dissects the
actions and attitudes of his disciples, praising them or blaming them
in accordance with his own values. He presents an illuminating analysis
of charity, and outlines in his chapter, "The Bestowing Virtue," the
conditions under which it may become a means to existence. He poses
the problem of relative morality, and suggests the lines along which
his thesis will be developed at a later date. The superman is defined
briefly but with a completeness sufficient for us to sense his relation
to the philosophical scheme of which he is a part. The conception of
the superman was founded on Darwin's doctrine of organic evolution,
and Nietzsche seeks to bring this superman about by the application
of the law of natural selection and by giving the law of the survival
of the fittest an open field for operation. Here, too, we have the
statement of Nietzsche's racial ideal: the highest exemplars of the
race, and not a standardized goal, is the aim of his philosophy.
In Part II the doctrine of the will to power is clearly set forth in
its framework. The chapter wherein this appears--"Self-Surpassing"--is
merely a brief exposition founded on observation. The development of
this idea is not to be found until toward the end of Nietzsche's life;
but that the theory was clearly conceived in his mind is evidenced by
the fact that it is constantly being applied throughout the remainder
of his works. In its present form it is no more than a statement, but
so clearly is it presented that one is able to grasp its significance
and to determine in just what manner it differed from the Darwinian
and Spencerian doctrines. In this same section are contained many
personal chapters, including an excoriation of his early critics, a
comparison between himself and Schopenhauer, an account of his early
anti-scholastic warfare, a criticism of modern scientific methods, a
reference to his friendship with Wagner, and an expression of regret at
the misunderstanding which greeted his earlier works. One of the final
chapters offers a definition of "profundity" which goes deep into the
very undercurrents of his philosophy.
The most important material to be found in the book is encountered
in Part III. Under the caption, "The Old and the New Tables," we
have an important summing up of the principal teachings in the
Nietzschean philosophical scheme. Here also we meet the doctrine of
eternal recurrence which, as I have said, generated the conception
of this book. Its present statement is limited to a few tentative
speculations; later on it was developed and set forth with greater
force and certainty. But despite the fact that in his autobiography
Nietzsche calls this speculative philosophic doctrine "the highest of
all possible formulæ of a Yea-saying philosophy," too much importance
must not be attached to it in its relation to his writings. In the
first place it was by no means new with him: he himself reconnoitred
a bit in one of his early essays looking for its possible origin. And
in the second place it had little influence on his main doctrine of
the superman. Although he spent considerable time and space in its
elucidation, it never became an integral part of any of his teachings.
Rather was it something superimposed on his other formulæ--a condition
introduced into the actualities of his conception of the universe. I am
inclined to think that he flirted with this idea of recurrence largely
because it was the most disheartening obstacle he could conceive in
the path of the superman; and as no obstacle was too great to be faced
triumphantly by this man of the future, he imposed this condition of
eternal recurrence upon him as an ultimate test of fortitude. This idea
would have added the final touch of futility to ambition, and Nietzsche
could not conceive of true greatness in man unless futility was at
the bottom of all ambitions. However, it is possible to eliminate
the entire idea of eternal recurrence from Nietzsche's work without
altering fundamentally any of his main teachings, for it is, in his
very conception of it, a deputy condition of existence.
Part IV, the narrative section, answers the query often raised: For
whom is Nietzsche's philosophy intended? It does away once and for all
with the assumption of certain critics that his writings were for all
classes. In fact, this assumption, constantly posited by scholars--even
those who claim to possess an intimate knowledge of Nietzsche's
work--is nowhere borne out in his text. As far back as "Thoughts out of
Season" the reverse of this supposition was inferentially stated; and
in "The Antichrist" and "The Will to Power" we have definite denials
that his doctrines were intended for every one. Yet one is constantly
encountering critical refutations of his philosophy based on the theory
that he addressed his teachings to all men. Nothing could be further
from the truth. He held no vision of a race of supermen: a millennium
founded on the exertion of power was neither his aim nor his hope.
His philosophy was entirely aristocratic. It was a system of ethics
designed for the masters of the race; and his books were gifts for
the intelligent man alone. Locke, Rousseau and Hume are often brought
forward by critics as answers to his attempts at transvaluation; but
a close inspection of Nietzsche's definition of slave-morality, which
was an important factor in his ethical scheme, will show that it is
possible to accept the philosophy of the superman without abrogating
the softer ethics of these three other thinkers. Nietzsche's stand in
regard to his audience is made obvious in the fable of Zarathustra. The
poet-philosopher experiences the instinct for pity, but on going out
into the world, he recognises this instinct as pertaining only to the
"higher men." When he finds numerous of these men in danger from the
ignorance of the populace and from the restrictions of environment,
he leads them to his cave, and there, isolated from the inferior man,
discourses with them on the problems of life and points out to them
the course they must take in order to bring about the superman.
Because of the nature of the book it is extremely difficult to select
detached passages from it which will give an entirely adequate idea of
its contents. Often a single philosophical point will be contained in
a long parable, and the only way to present that point in Nietzsche's
own words would have been to embody the whole parable in this chapter.
That, of course, would have been impossible. Therefore, many of the
ideas set forth in the book have not been included in the following
excerpts. Part IV does not lend itself at all to mutilation, and I have
been unable to take anything save a few general passages from this
section. However, "Thus Spake Zarathustra" is not a book to which one
should go to become familiar with Nietzsche's teachings. When one sits
down to read it, my advice is that the notes of Mr. Anthony M. Ludovici
which are to be found in the appendix of the standard English edition,
be followed closely.