Fear of a general "in vain."

Nihilism.

114.

As a matter of fact, we are no longer so urgently in need of an

antidote against the first Nihilism: Life is no longer so uncertain,

accidental, and senseless in modern Europe. All such tremendous

_exaggeration_ of the value of men, of the value of evil, etc., are

not so necessary now; we can endure a considerable diminution of this

value, we may grant a great deal of nonsense and accident: the _power_

man has acquired now allows of a _lowering_ of the means of discipline,

of which the strongest was the moral interpretation of the universe.

The hypothesis "God" is much too extreme.

115.

If anything shows that our _humanisation_ is a genuine sign of

_progress,_ it is the fact that we no longer require excessive

contraries, that we no longer require contraries at all....

We may love the senses; for we have spiritualised them in every way and

made them artistic;

We have a right to all things which hitherto have been most

_calumniated._

116.

_The reversal of the order of rank._--Those pious counterfeiters--the

priests--are becoming Chandala in our midst:--they occupy the

position of the charlatan, of the quack, of the counterfeiter, of the

sorcerer: we regard them as corrupters of the will, as the great

slanderers and vindictive enemies of Life, and as the _rebels_ among

the bungled and the botched. We have made our middle class out of our

servant-caste--the Sudra--that is to say, our people or the body which

wields the political power.

On the other hand, the Chandala of former times is paramount: the

_blasphemers,_ the _immoralists,_ the independents of all kinds, the

artists, the Jews, the minstrels--and, at bottom, all _disreputable_

classes are in the van.

We have elevated ourselves to _honourable_ thoughts,--even more, we

determine what honour is on earth,--"nobility." ... All of us to-day

are _advocates of life._--We _Immoralists_ are to-day the _strongest_

power: the other great powers are in need of us ... we re-create the

world in our own image.

We have transferred the label "Chandala" to the _priests,_ the

_backworldsmen,_ and to the deformed _Christian society_ which has

become associated with these people, together with creatures of like

origin, the pessimists, Nihilists, romanticists of pity, criminals, and

men of vicious habits--the whole sphere in which the idea of "God" is

that of _Saviour...._

We are proud of being no longer obliged to be liars, slanderers, and

detractors of Life....

117.

_The advance_ of the nineteenth century upon the eighteenth (at bottom

we _good Europeans_ are carrying on a war against the eighteenth

century):

(1) "The return to Nature" is getting to be understood, ever more

definitely, in a way which is quite the reverse of that in which

Rousseau used the phrase--_away from idylls and operas!_

(2) Ever more decided, more anti-idealistic, more objective, more

fearless, more industrious, more temperate, more suspicious of sudden

changes, _anti-revolutionary_;

(3) The question of _bodily health_ is being pressed ever more

decidedly in front of the health of "the soul": the latter is regarded

as a condition brought about by the former, and bodily health is

believed to be, at least, the prerequisite to spiritual health.

118.

If anything at all has been achieved, it is a more innocent attitude

towards the senses, a happier, more favourable demeanour in regard

to sensuality, resembling rather the position taken up by Goethe; a

prouder feeling has also been developed in knowledge, and the "reine

Thor"[6] meets with little faith.

[Footnote 6: This is a reference to Wagner's _Parsifal._ The character

as is well known, is written to represent a son of heart's affliction,

and a child of wisdom--humble, guileless, loving, pure, and a

fool.--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.]

119.

We "_objective people._"--It is not "pity" that opens up the way for

_us_ to all that is most remote and most strange in life and culture;

but our accessibility and ingenuousness, which precisely does not

"pity," but rather takes pleasure in hundreds of things which formerly

caused pain (which in former days either outraged or moved us, or in

the presence of which we were either hostile or indifferent). Pain in

all its various phases is now interesting to us: on that account we are

certainly _not_ the more pitiful, even though the sight of pain may

shake us to our foundations and move us to tears: and we are absolutely

not inclined to be more helpful in view thereof.

In this _deliberate_ desire to look on at all pain and error, we have

grown stronger and more powerful than in the eighteenth century; it

is a proof of our increase of strength (we have _drawn closer_ to the

seventeenth and sixteenth centuries). But it is a profound mistake

to regard our "romanticism" as a proof of our "beautified souls." We

want _stronger_ sensations than all _coarser_ ages and classes have

wanted. (This fact must not be confounded with the needs of neurotics

and decadents; in their case, of course, there is a craving for pepper

--even for cruelty.)

We are all seeking conditions _which are emancipated from_ the

bourgeois, and to a greater degree from the priestly, notion of

morality (every book which savours at all of priestdom and theology

gives us the impression of pitiful _niaiserie_ and mental indigence).

"Good company," in fact, finds everything insipid which is not

forbidden and considered compromising in bourgeois circles; and the

case is the same with books, music, politics, and opinions on women.

120.

_The simplification of man in the nineteenth century_ (The eighteenth

century was that of elegance, subtlety, and generous feeling).--Not

"return to nature"; for no natural humanity has ever existed yet.

Scholastic, unnatural, and antinatural values are the rule and the

beginning; man only reaches Nature after a long struggle--he never

turns his "back" to her.... To be natural means, to dare to be as

immoral as Nature is.

We are coarser, more direct, richer in irony towards generous feelings,

even when we are beneath them.

Our _haute volée,_ the society consisting of our rich and leisured

men, is more natural: people hunt each other, the love of the sexes

is a kind of sport in which marriage is both a charm and an obstacle;

people entertain each other and live for the sake of pleasure; bodily

advantages stand in the first rank, and curiosity and daring are the

rule.

Our attitude towards _knowledge_ is more natural; we are innocent

in our absolute spiritual debauchery, we hate pathetic and hieratic

manners, we delight in that which is most strictly prohibited, we

should scarcely recognise any interest in knowledge if we were bored in

acquiring it.

Our attitude to _morality_ is also more natural. Principles have become

a laughing-stock; no one dares to speak of his "duty," unless in irony.

But a helpful, benevolent disposition is highly valued. (Morality is

located in _instinct_ and the rest is despised. Besides this there are

few points of honour.)

Our attitude to _politics_ is more natural: we see problems of power,

of the quantum of power, against another quantum. We do not believe in

a right that does not proceed from a power which is able to uphold it.

We regard all rights as conquests.

Our valuation of _great men and things_ is more natural: we regard

passion as a privilege; we can conceive of nothing great which does not

involve a great crime; all greatness is associated in our minds with a

certain standing-beyond-the-pale in morality.

Our attitude to _Nature_ is more natural: we no longer love her for her

"innocence," her "reason," her "beauty," we have made her beautifully

devilish and "foolish." But instead of despising her on that account,

since then we have felt more closely related to her and more familiar

in her presence. She does _not_ aspire to virtue: we therefore respect

her.

Our attitude towards _Art_ is more natural: we do not exact beautiful,

empty lies, etc., from her; brutal positivism reigns supreme, and it

ascertains things with perfect calm.

In short: there are signs showing that the European of the nineteenth

century is less ashamed of his instincts; he has gone a long way

towards acknowledging his unconditional naturalness and immorality,

_without bitterness_: on the contrary, he is strong enough to endure

this point of view alone.

To some ears this will sound as though _corruption_ had made strides:

and certain it is that man has not drawn nearer to the "Nature"

which Rousseau speaks about, but has gone one step farther in the

civilisation before which Rousseau _stood in horror._ We have grown

_stronger,_ we have drawn nearer to the seventeenth century, more

particularly to the taste which reigned towards its close (Dancourt, Le

Sage, Renard).

121.

_Culture_ versus _Civilisation._--The culminating stages of culture

and civilisation lie apart: one must not be led astray as regards the

fundamental antagonism existing between culture and civilisation.

From the moral standpoint, great periods in the history of culture

have always been periods of corruption; while on the other hand,

those periods in which man was deliberately and compulsorily _tamed_

("civilisation") have always been periods of intolerance towards the

most intellectual and most audacious natures. Civilisation desires

something different from what culture strives after: their aims may

perhaps be opposed....

122.

_What I warn people against_: confounding the instincts of decadence

with those of _humanity_;

Confounding the _dissolving means_ of civilisation _and those which

necessarily promote decadence,_ with _culture_;

Confounding _debauchery,_ and the principle, "laisser aller," with the

_Will to Power_ (the latter is the exact reverse of the former).

123.

The unsolved problems which I set anew: the _problem of civilisation,_

the struggle between Rousseau and Voltaire about the year 1760. Man

becomes deeper, more mistrustful, more "immoral," stronger, more

self-confident--and therefore "_more natural_"; that is "progress."

In this way, by a process of division of labour, the more evil strata

and the milder and tamer strata of society get separated: so that _the

general facts_ are not visible at first sight.... It is a sign of

_strength,_ and of the self-control and fascination of the strong, that

these stronger strata possess the arts in order to make their greater

powers for evil felt as something "_higher_" As soon as there is

"progress" there is a transvaluation of the strengthened factors into

the "good."

124.

The Will to Power: An Attempted Transvaluation of All Values. Book I and II · 第 48 / 89 题