Nietzsche

One of the most admired and the most hated philosophers of all time, perhaps no man in history as sharply divides common opinion as Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. Like James Joyce in literature and Citizen Kane in film, Nietzsche is the name of choice thrown around by pseudo-intellectuals seeking to show off their sophistication, but few have read anything of substance concerning him, and fewer still truly understand his philosophy. His legacy is forever in darkness due to the worldwide influences of a man who misinterpreted Nietzsche's teachings to a tragic degree, a man called Adolf Hitler. Nonetheless, if there is one philosopher I would recommend everyone take another look at, he supplants all the rest.

I will begin with a short biography. I find it’s useful to know a philosopher’s life story in order to better understand their work and what may lie behind it, but I realize that not everyone agrees. If you really don’t care, feel free to skip this paragraph.
Born in 1844 in Germany, Nietzsche was the son of a prominent and devout Christian minister. When he was four, his father died suddenly of a brain disease, and his two-year old brother joined him in oblivion six months later, the first of a long line of misfortunes and disappointments that would solidify his dark outlook on humanity. He studied theology to become a priest like his father, but he soon became almost fanatically disillusioned of Christianity. He was drafted, and when he was 23, he was seriously injured after being thrown off his horse. A brilliant philologist, he was made a professor at age 24, and soon began an acquaintance with the famous composer Wagner. As he reached his thirties, his world began to fall apart. His health worsened, and in 1876, a marriage proposal to a Dutch piano student was rejected. Around this time, he became disillusioned with his former friend Wagner (he hated a work that Wagner declared a masterpiece), most of his other acquaintances, and with Germany in general. His health worsened, and he resigned from his professorship. He gave up German citizenship and began traveling around Europe, never staying in the same place for long. He fell in love with another girl in Rome, Lou Salome, but once again, he was refused. Salome would later become a disciple of Sigmund Freud, who would be influenced greatly by Nietzsche’s philosophy and psychology. Nietzsche’s physical and mental condition worsened, but at this time he wrote his most famous works. Then, in 1889, he suffered a complete mental breakdown. In a scene oddly reminiscent of one in Dostoevski’s Crime and Punishment, Nietzsche was walking through the streets when he saw a man whipping a horse. He threw his arms around the horse’s neck in protest and lapsed into complete insanity. He lived with his mother for seven years until she died, then was taken care of by his sister Elisabeth until his death. This sister was an important character in her own right, for she had married a Nazi (against Nietzsche’s requests), and sought to establish an anti-Semitic colony. She would later attempt to complete a few of his later works, and would be instrumental in introducing Nietzsche’s words to the purposes of Hitler’s Nazi Party.


Now to the substance of the issue. Many philosophers criticize Nietzsche for several reasons. One is the style of his philosophizing. A writer by nature, his ideas are often put forth as statements. Unlike the more analytical philosophers, he does not spend much time proving points, and often they are in the form of little anecdotes or concealed by literary devices. This makes him more interesting to read, and very quotable, but leads to some going so far as to say that he isn’t even a philosopher. Many of his ideas can be supported, even if he does not do it himself, and if one clears ones’ mind enough, even the rest seem to make a great deal of sense and are difficult to argue against. At the very least, he makes no more assumptions than the rest of us, and even those opposed to his claims must decide what it is that makes their own beliefs any better than his. Another problem is that his writing is often laced with personal vendettas and obsessions that occasionally obscure the more universal points. Barbs against contemporary figures that he dislikes (such as Wagner) are fairly common. The greatest of these, however, is his rabid anti-Christianity. He sometimes saw himself as the Antichrist, and his books are largely directed towards criticizing Christianity and its ideals. He is also fairly humorous in his rather sexist view of women, but it is unclear just how sincere his comments against them are.

Of course, many of you are wondering when I will actually get to his ideas. As I have said before, he is a fantastic writer, and no way better could I describe his ideas than in his own words. I had better begin by giving you an idea of his main points to put his own statements into context. He saw human characteristics split into two main groups, Apollonian (intellectual, logical, etc.) and Dionysian (emotional, full of desires, etc.) and insisted a balance of both was important. An overriding idea in his work deals with the idea of a “superman”. This superman is unaffected by the Christian-propagated morality that keeps great men from achieving. He emphasized that there was no absolute morality, but that the strong man creates his own. He was an Egoist, and a staunch supporter of the artistic enterprise. He focused on the enjoyment of this life, and fought against conviction, particularly of the religious variety. Since quoting Nietzsche is such a staple of intellectual culture, here is a stockpile of philosophical ammunition for you to impress your colleagues with.

The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.

Man is something to be overcome.

The masses seem to me worthy of notice in only three respects: first as blurred copies of great men, produced on bad paper with worn plates, further as a resistance to the great, and finally as the tools of the great; beyond that, may the devil and statistics take them.

Christianity gave Eros poison to drink; he did not die of it, but degenerated into a vice.

The last Christian died on the cross.

The Christian resolution to find the world ugly and bad has made the world ugly and bad.

Insanity is the exception in individuals. In groups, parties, people, and times, it is the rule.

There are no facts, only interpretations.

In heaven all the interesting people are missing.

Faith: not wanting to know what is true.

A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.

Although the most acute judges of the witches and even the witches themselves, were convinced of the guilt of witchery, the guilt nevertheless was non-existent. It is thus with all guilt.

And we should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh.

Art is not merely an imitation of the reality of nature, but in truth a metaphysical supplement to the reality of nature, placed alongside thereof for its conquest.

At times one remains faithful to a cause only because its opponents do not cease to be insipid.

Egoism is the very essence of a noble soul.

Fanatics are picturesque, mankind would rather see gestures than listen to reasons.

He who has a strong enough why can bear almost any how.

In large states public education will always be mediocre, for the same reason that in large kitchens the cooking is usually bad.

Is life not a thousand times too short for us to bore ourselves?

It is always consoling to think of suicide: in that way one gets through many a bad night.

It is hard enough to remember my opinions, without also remembering my reasons for them!

Morality is the herd-instinct in the individual.

Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.

The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.

There cannot be a God because if there were one, I could not believe that I was not He.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

When one has not had a good father, one must create one.

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.

What is done out of love takes place beyond good and evil





(And of course, The Big One, the three words that Woody Allen claims as the beginning of the era of modern man.)

God is dead. (full quote below)




Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market-place, and cried incessantly: "I am looking for God! I am looking for God!" As many of those who did not believe in God were standing together there, he excited considerable laughter. Have you lost him, then? said one. Did he lose his way like a child? said another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? or emigrated? Thus they shouted and laughed. The madman sprang into their midst and pierced them with his glances. "Where has God gone?" he cried. "I shall tell you. We have killed him - you and I. We are his murderers. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained the earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns? Are we not perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is it not more and more night coming on all the time? Must not lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God's decomposition? Gods too decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we, murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was the holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives. Who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we need to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we not ourselves become gods simply to be worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whosoever shall be born after us - for the sake of this deed he shall be part of a higher history than all history hitherto." Here the madman fell silent and again regarded his listeners; and they too were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern to the ground, and it broke and went out. "I have come too early," he said then; "my time has not come yet. The tremendous event is still on its way, still travelling - it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time, the light of the stars requires time, deeds require time even after they are done, before they can be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the distant stars - and yet they have done it themselves." It has been further related that on that same day the madman entered divers churches and there sang a requiem. Led out and quietened, he is said to have retorted each time: "what are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchres of God?"