"Thus Spake Zarathustra"

Although the contents of "The Joyful Wisdom" are not inherently a part of Nietzsche's philosophy, but only detached applications of his theories—ideas which floated to the surface of his doctrines—the material encountered here is of wide and varied interest. There are criticisms of German and Southern culture; valuations of modern authors; views on the developments of art; theories of music; analyses of Schopenhauer and an explanation of his vogue; judgments of the ancient and the modern theatre; excursions into philological fields; arraignments ofcontemporary classicism; doctrines of creative artistry; personal paragraphs on mental culture, politics and commerce. ... The book is, in fact, more critical than philosophical.

Nietzsche never entirely dissevered himself from his time and from the habits, both of thought and action, which characterised his contemporaries. From his first academic essays to his last transvaluation of values, he remained the patient and analytical observer of the life about him. For this reason it has been argued among disciples of "pure" thinking that he was not, in the strictest sense of the word, a "philosopher," but rather a critically intellectual force. This diagnosis might carry weight had not Nietzsche avowedly built his philosophical structure on a repudiation of abstract thinking. This misunderstanding of him arose from the adherents of rational thinking overlooking the fact that, where the older philosophers had detached themselves from reality because of the instability of natural hypotheses, Nietzsche re-established human bases on which he founded his syllogisms. Therefore one should not attempt to divorce the purely critical from the purely philosophical in his writings. Even in a book so frankly critical as "The Joyful Wisdom" there is a directing force of theoretical unity.

This is especially true of the third section. This division is made up almost entirely of comments on men and affairs, short analyses of human attitudes, desultory excursions into the sociological, brief remarks on man's emotional nature, apothegms dealing with human attributes, bits of racy philosophical gossip, religious and scientific maxims, and the like. Sometimes these observations are cynical, sometimes gracious, sometimes bitter,sometimes buoyant, sometimes merely witty. But all of them are welded together by a profound conception of humanity.

The most stimulating division of the book is the fourth, in which Nietzsche's good humour is at its height. This section is a glorification of victory and of all those hardy qualities which go into the perfecting of the individual. Nietzsche reverses Schiller's famous doctrine expressed in "Die Braut von Messina": "Life is not of all good the highest." He sees no good over and beyond that of human relationships. The normal instincts to him are the ones which affirm life; the abnormal instincts are those which deny it. The former are summed up in the ethics of Greece under the sway of Dionysus; the latter are epitomised in the Christian religion.

The fifth book, called "We Fearless Ones," and the appendix of "Songs of Prince Free-as-a-Bird" were written four years later than the other material and added with an introduction in a later edition of the book. These addenda, while less specific and of a more dialectic nature than the preceding parts, are in spirit manifestly the same as the rest of the book.

In "The Joyful Wisdom" we have again an aphoristic style of writing, although it has become keener and more sure of itself since "Human, All-Too-Human" and "The Dawn of Day." In making selections from this book I have chosen those passages which are more general in tone. The connection between the various aphorisms is here even slighter than is Nietzsche's wont, and for that reason no attempt has been made to present a continuous perception of the work. However, the excerpts which follow, though of a less popular nature, are moreintimately related to his thoughts than the ones omitted, and consequently are of more interest to the student.

[1]Love of (one's) destiny.

[1]Love of (one's) destiny.

EXCERPTS FROM "THE JOYFUL WISDOM"

Whether I look with a good or an evil eye upon men, I find them always at one problem, each and all of them: to do that which conduces to the conservation of the human species.31

To laugh at oneself as one would have to laugh in order to laughout of the veriest truth,—to do this the best have not hitherto had enough of the sense of truth, and the most endowed have had far too little genius! There is perhaps still a future even for laughter!32

The ignoble nature is distinguished by the fact that it keeps its advantage steadily in view, and that this thought of the end and advantage is even stronger than its strongest impulse: not to be tempted to inexpedient activities by its impulses—that is its wisdom and inspiration. In comparison with the ignoble nature the higher nature is more irrational:—for the noble, magnanimous, and self-sacrificing person succumbs in fact to his impulses, and in his best moments his reasonlapsesaltogether.37

The strongest and most evil spirits have hitherto advanced mankind the most: they always rekindled the sleeping passions—all orderly arranged society lulls the passions to sleep.39

The lust of property and love: what different associations each of these ideas evokes!—and yet it might be the same impulse twice named.51

The poison by which the weaker nature is destroyed is strengthening to the strong individual—and he does not call it poison.56-57

The virtues of a man are calledgood,not in respect of the results they have for himself, but in respect of the results which we expect therefrom for ourselves and for society.... The praise of the virtues is the praise of something which is privately injurious to the individual; it is praise of impulses which deprive man of his noblest self-love, and the power to take the best care of himself.... The "neighbour" praises unselfishness becausehe profits by it!If the neighbour were "unselfishly" disposed himself, he would reject that destruction of power, that injury forhis advantage,he would thwart such inclinations in their origin, and above all he would manifest his unselfishness just bynot giving it a good name!58-60

Living—that is to be cruel and inexorable towards all that becomes weak and old in ourselves, and not only in ourselves.68

It is probable that the manufacturers and great magnates of commerce have hitherto lacked too much all those forms and attributes of asuperior race,which alone make persons interesting; if they had had the nobility of the newly-born in their looks and bearing, there would perhaps have been no socialism in the masses of the people. For these are really ready forslaveryof every kind, provided that the superior class above them constantly shows itself legitimately superior, andbornto command—by its noble presence!78

When one continually prohibits the expression of the passions as something to be left to the "vulgar," to coarser, bourgeois, and peasant natures—that is, when one does not want to suppress the passions themselves, but only their language and demeanour, one nevertheless realisestherewithjust what one does not want: thesuppression of the passions themselves, or at least their weakening and alteration....83

In magnanimity there is the same amount of egoism as in revenge....86-87

Where bad eyesight can no longer see the evil impulse as such, on account of its refinement,—there man sets up the kingdom of goodness....88

To become the advocate of the rule—that may perhaps be the ultimate form and refinement in which nobility of character will reveal itself on earth.90

Women are all skilful in exaggerating their weaknesses, indeed they are inventive in weaknesses, so as to seem quite fragile ornaments to which even a grain of dust does harm; their existence is meant to bring home to man's mind his coarseness, and to appeal to his conscience.101

There is something quite astonishing and extraordinary in the education of women of the higher class; indeed, there is perhaps nothing more paradoxical. All the world is agreed to educate them with as much ignorance as possiblein erotics,and to inspire their soul with a profound shame of such things, and the extremest impatience and horror at the suggestion of them. It is really here only that all the "honour" of women is at stake; what would one not forgive in them in other respects! But here they are intended to remain ignorant to the very backbone:—they are intended to have neither eyes, ears, words, nor thoughts for this, their "wickedness"; indeed knowledge here is already evil. And then! To be hurled as with an awful thunderbolt into reality and knowledge with marriage—and indeed by him whom they most love and esteem: to have to encounter love and shame in contradiction, yea, to have tofeel rapture, abandonment, duty, sympathy, and fright at the unexpected proximity of God and animal, and whatever else besides! all at once!—There, in fact, a psychic entanglement has been effected which is quite unequalled! Even the sympathetic curiosity of the wisest discerner of men does not suffice to divine how this or that woman gets along with the solution of this enigma and the enigma of this solution; what dreadful, far-reaching suspicions must awaken thereby in the poor unhinged soul; and forsooth, how the ultimate philosophy and scepticism of the woman casts anchor at this point!—Afterwards the same profound silence as before: and often even a silence to herself, a shutting of her eyes to herself.—Young wives on that account make great efforts to appear superficial and thoughtless; the most ingenious of them simulate a kind of impudence.—Wives easily feel their husbands as a question-mark to their honour, and their children as an apology or atonement,—they require children, and wish for them in quite another spirit than a husband wishes for them.—In short, one cannot be gentle enough towards women!104-105

Of what consequence is all our art in artistic products, if that higher art, the art of the festival, be lost by us?124

The best thing I could say in honour of Shakespeare,the man,is that he believed in Brutus and cast not a shadow of suspicion on the kind of virtue which Brutus represents!131

We must rest from ourselves occasionally by contemplating and looking down upon ourselves, and by laughing or weepingoverourselves from an artistic remoteness: we must discover thehero,and likewise thefool,that is hidden in our passion for knowledge; we must nowand then be joyful in our folly, that we may continue to be joyful in our wisdom! And just because we are heavy and serious men in our ultimate depth, and are rather weights than men, there is nothing that does us so much good as thefool's cap and bells:we need them in presence of ourselves—we need all arrogant, soaring, dancing, mocking, childish and blessed Art, in order not to lose thefree dominion over thingswhich our ideal demands of us.146

The general character of the world ... is to all eternity chaos; not by the absence of necessity, but in the sense of the absence of order, structure, form, beauty, wisdom, and whatever else our æsthetic humanities are called. Judged by our reason, the unlucky casts are far oftenest the rule, the exceptions are not the secret purpose; and the whole musical box repeats eternally its air, which can never be called a melody,—and finally the very expression, "unlucky cast" is already an anthropomorphising which involves blame. But how could we presume to blame or praise the universe! Let us be on our guard against ascribing to it heartlessness and unreason, or their opposites; it is neither perfect, nor beautiful, nor noble; nor does it seek to be anything of the kind, it does not at all attempt to imitate man! It is altogether unaffected by our æsthetic and moral judgments! Neither has it any self-preservative instinct, nor instinct at all; it also knows no law. Let us be on our guard against saying that there are laws in nature. There are only necessities: there is no one who commands, no one who obeys, no one who transgresses. When you know that there is no design, you know also that there is no chance: for it is only where there is a world of design that the word "chance" has a meaning.Let us be on our guard against saying that death is contrary to life. The living being is only a species of dead being, and a very rare species.—Let us be on our guard against thinking that the world eternally creates the new. There are no eternally enduring substances; matter is just another such error as the God of the Eleatics.152-153.

Man has been reared by his errors: firstly, he saw himself always imperfect; secondly, he attributed to himself imaginary qualities; thirdly, he felt himself in a false position in relation to the animals and nature; fourthly, he always devised new tables of values, and accepted them for a time as eternal and unconditioned, so that at one time this, and at another time that human impulse or state stood first, and was ennobled in consequence. When one has deducted the effect of these four errors, one has also deducted humanity, humaneness, and "human dignity."160

Morality is the herd-instinct in the individual.161

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 determinewhathealth implies even for thybody.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, andone and the same excitationmaybe 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 thegrandeurof Nature and have discovered it; that is because human grandeur is lacking in our minds.186

Egoism is theperspectivelaw 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, notvirtue!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 timesmore 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, andwage warfor 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.Theyhave seduced us to the opinion that the inclinations and impulses of men are evil;theyare the cause of our great injustice to our own nature, and to all nature! There are enough of men whomayyield to their impulses gracefully and carelessly: but they do not do so, for fear of that imaginary "evil thing" in nature!That is the causewhy 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 flywithout 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 theabilityto contradict, the attainment ofgoodconscience 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 itwell,as well as it is possible formealone!...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:wemay have been altered by him! Let us rather see to it that our own influence onall that is to comeoutweighs 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 knowledgehow moral judgments have in general always originated,would make you tired of these pathetic words....261

Wewould 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 bephysicistsin order to becreatorsin that sense,—whereas hitherto all appreciations and ideals have been based onignoranceof physics, or incontradictionto it.203

Our "benefactors" lower our value and volition more than our enemies.265

It is always ametaphysical beliefon which our belief in science rests,—and that even we knowing ones of to-day, the godless and anti-metaphysical, still takeourfire 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 theextension 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 thecapacity for communicationof a man (or an animal), the capacity for communication in its turn being in proportion to thenecessity forcommunication....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 anoblerinstitution than the State.314

It seems to me one of my most essential steps and advances that I have learned to distinguish the cause ofthe 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 ofequalrights 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 doesnotpresuppose 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 afaith:woman has no other.—Man, when he loves a woman,wantsprecisely 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 amore perfectwoman.... Woman wants to be taken and accepted as a possession, she wishes to be merged in the conceptionsof "possession" and "possessed"; consequently she wants one whotakes,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."—Fidelityis accordingly included in woman's love, it follows from the definition thereof; with man fidelitymayreadily result in consequence of his love, perhaps as gratitude or idiosyncrasy of taste, and so-called elective affinity, but it does not belong to theessenceof 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, andnota 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 thestupidest,that is to say, the most destitute of significance, of all possible world-interpretations.... An essentially mechanical world would be an essentiallymeaningless 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'sright 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 appearinhuman....352-353

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 themselvesall 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 inthe 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 shouldattach 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 mightimagine 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 togetherin 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 onDarwin'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 doctrineof 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 thecourse 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.

EXCERPTS FROM "THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA"

I teach you the Superman... Man is something that is to be surpassed.6

What is the ape to man? A laughing-stock, a thing of shame. And just the same shall man be to the Superman: a laughing-stock, a thing of shame.6

Ye have made your way from the worm to man, and much within you is still worm. Once were ye apes, and even yet man is more of an ape than any of the apes.7

I conjure you, my brethren,remain true to the earth.and believe not those who speak unto you of super-earthly hopes! Poisoners are they, whether they know it or not.7

To blaspheme the earth is now the dreadfulest sin....7

Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Superman—a rope over an abyss.9

What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal....9

I tell you: one must still have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star....12

Three metamorphoses of the spirit do I designate to you: how the spirit becometh a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.

Many heavy things are there for the spirit, the strong load-bearing spirit in which reverence dwelleth: for the heavy and the heaviest longeth its strength.

What is heavy? so asketh the load-bearing spirit; then kneeleth it down like the camel, and wanteth to be well laden.

What is the heaviest thing, ye heroes? asketh the load-bearing spirit, that I may take it upon me and rejoice in my strength.

Is it not this: To humiliate oneself in order to mortify one's pride? To exhibit one's folly in order to mock at one's wisdom?

Or is it this: To desert our cause when it celebrateth its triumph? To ascend high mountains to tempt the tempter?

Or is it this: To feed on the acorns and grass of knowledge, and for the sake of truth to suffer hunger of soul?

Or is it this: To be sick and dismiss comforters, and make friends of the deaf, who never hear thy requests?

Or is it this: To go into foul water when it is the water of truth, and not disclaim cold frogs and hot toads?

Or is it this: To love those who despise us, and give one's hand to the phantom when it is going to frighten us?

All these heaviest things the load-bearing spirit taketh upon itself: and like the camel, which, when laden, hasteneth into the wilderness, so hasteneth the spirit into its wilderness.

But in the loneliest wilderness happeneth the second metamorphosis: here the spirit becometh a lion; freedom will it capture, and lordship in its own wilderness.

Its last Lord it here seeketh: hostile will it be to him, and to its last God; for victory will it struggle with the great dragon.

What is the great dragon which the spirit is no longer inclined to call Lord and God? "Thou shalt," is the great dragon called. But the spirit of the lion saith, "I will."

"Thou shalt," lieth in its path, sparkling with gold—a scale-covered beast; and on every scale glittereth golden, "Thou shalt!"

The values of a thousand years glitter on those scales, and thus speaketh the mightiest of all dragons: "All the values of things—glitter on me."

"All values have already been created, and all created values—do I represent. Verily, there shall be no 'I will' any more." Thus speaketh the dragon.

My brethren, wherefore is there need of the lion in the spirit? Why sufficeth not the beast of burden, which renounceth and is reverent?

To create new values—that, even the lion cannot yet accomplish: but to create itself freedom for new creating—that can the might of the lion do.

To create itself freedom, and give a holy Nay evenunto duty: for that, my brethren, there is need of the lion.

To assume the right to new values—that is the most formidable assumption for a load-bearing and reverent spirit. Verily, unto such a spirit it is preying, and the work of a beast of prey.

As its holiest, it once loved "Thou shalt": now is it forced to find illusion and arbitrariness even in the holiest things, that it may capture freedom from its love: the lion is needed for this capture.

But tell me, my brethren, what the child can do, which even the lion could not do? Why hath the preying lion still to become a child?

Innocence is the child, and forgetfulness, a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a holy Yea.

Aye, for the game of creating, my brethren, there is needed a holy Yea unto life:its ownwill, willeth now the spirit;his ownworld winneth the world's outcast.

Three metamorphoses of the spirit have I designated to you: how the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.25-27

A new pride ... teach I unto men: no longer to thrust the head into the sand of celestial things, but to carry it freely, a terrestrial head, which giveth meaning to the earth!

A new will teach I unto men: to choose that path which man hath followed blindly, and to approve of it—and no longer to slink aside from it, like the sick and perishing!

The sick and perishing—it was they who despised the body and the earth, and invented the heavenly world, and the redeeming blood-drops; but even those sweet andsad poisons they borrowed from the body and the earth!33-34

The awakened one, the knowing one, saith: "Body am I entirely, and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body."35

The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.

An instrument of thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which thou callest "spirit"—a little instrument and plaything of thy big sagacity.

Instruments and playthings are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit.36

Behind thy thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, an unknown sage—it is called Self; it dwelleth in thy body, it is thy body.36

When thou hast a virtue, and it is thine own virtue, thou hast it in common with no one.38

If thou be fortunate, then wilt thou have one virtue and no more: thus goest thou easier over the bridge.39

"Enemy" shall ye say but not "villain," "invalid" shall ye say but not "wretch," "fool" shall ye say but not "sinner."41

Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.43

Ye look aloft when ye long for exaltation; and I look downward because I am exalted.

Who among you can at the same time laugh and be exalted?

He who climbeth on the highest mountains, laugheth at all tragic plays and tragic realities.

Courageous, unconcerned, scornful, coercive—so wisdom wisheth us; she is a woman, and ever loveth a warrior.44

It is true we love life; not because we are wont to live, but because we are wont to love.44

I should only believe in a God that would know how to dance.

Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!45

Full is the earth of the superfluous; marred is life by the many-too-many. May they be decoyed out of this life by the "life eternal"!49

Ye are not great enough not to know of hatred and envy. Then be great enough not to be ashamed of them!51

Ye shall love peace as a means to new wars—and the short peace more than the long.

You I advise not to work, but to fight. You, I advise not to peace, but to victory. Let your work be a fight, let your peace be a victory!52

Ye say it is the good cause which halloweth even war? I say unto you: it is the good war which halloweth every cause.52.

"What is good?" ye ask. To be brave is good.52Ye shall only have enemies to be hated, but not enemies to be despised. Ye must be proud of your enemies; then, the successes of your enemies are also your successes.53

A state is called the coldest of all cold monsters. Coldly lieth it also; and this lie creepeth from its mouth: "I, the state, am the people."54

Just see these superfluous ones! They steal the works of the inventors and the treasures of the wise. Culture,they call their theft—and everything becometh sickness and trouble unto them!56

Around the devisers of new values revolveth the world:—invisibly it revolveth. But around the actors revolve the people and the glory: such is the course of things.58

Would that ye were perfect—at least as animals! But to animals belongeth innocence.61

Chastity is a virtue with some, but with many almost a vice.61

To whom chastity is difficult, it is to be dissuaded: lest it become the road to hell—to filth and lust of soul.62

If one would have a friend, then must one also be willing to wage war for him: and in order to wage war, one must becapableof being an enemy.63

In one's friend one shall have one's best enemy. Thou shalt be closest unto him with thy heart when thou withstandest him.63

Art thou a slave? Then thou canst not be a friend. Art thou a tyrant? Then thou canst not have friends.

Far too long hath there been a slave and a tyrant concealed in woman. On that account woman is not yet capable of friendship: she knoweth only love.

In woman's love there is injustice and blindness to all she doth not love. And even in woman's conscious love, there is still always surprise and lightning and night, along with the light.65

Values did man only assign to things in order to maintain himself—he created only the significance of things, a human significance! Therefore, calleth he himself "man," that is, the valuator.67

A thousand goals have there been hitherto, for a thousand peoples have there been. Only the fetter for thethousand necks is still lacking; there is lacking the one goal. As yet humanity hath not a goal.69

Do I advise you to neighbour-love? Rather do I advise you to neighbour-flight and to furthest love!

Higher than love to your neighbour is love to the furthest and future ones; higher still than love to men, is love to things and phantoms.

The phantom that runneth on before thee, my brother, is fairer than thou; why dost thou not give unto it thy flesh and thy bones?...69

Art thou oneentitledto escape from a yoke? Many a one hath cast away his final worth when he hath cast away his servitude.

Free from what? What doth that matter to Zarathustra! Clearly, however, shall thine eye show unto me: freefor what?71

Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman hath one solution—it is called pregnancy.

Man is for woman, a means: the purpose is always the child. But what is woman for man?

Two different things wanteth the true man: danger and diversion. Therefore wanteth he woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the recreation of the warrior: all else is folly.

Two sweet fruits—these the warrior liketh not. Therefore liketh he woman;—bitter is ever the sweetest woman.

Better than man doth woman understand children, but man is more childish than woman.

In the true man there is a child hidden: it wanteth to play. Up then, ye women, and discover the child in man!

A plaything let woman be, pure and fine like the precious stone, illumined with the virtues of a world not yet come.

Let the beam of a star shine in your love! Let your hope say: "May I bear the Superman!"

In your love let there be valour! With your love shall ye assail him who inspireth you with fear!

In your love be your honour! Little doth woman understand otherwise about honour. But let this be your honour: always to love more than ye are loved, and never be the second.

Let man fear woman when she loveth: then maketh she every sacrifice, and everything else she regardeth as worthless.

Let man fear woman when she hateth: for man in his innermost soul is merely evil; woman, however, is mean.

Whom hateth woman most?—Thus spake the iron to the loadstone: "I hate thee most, because thou attractest, but art too weak to draw unto thee."

The happiness of man is, "I will." The happiness of woman is, "He will."76

Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy whip! 77

When ... ye have an enemy, then return him not good for evil: for that would abash him. But prove that he hath done something good to you.

And rather be angry than abash any one! And when ye are cursed, it pleaseth me not that ye should then desire to bless. Rather curse a little also!73

Tell me: where find we justice, which is love with seeing eyes?78

Thou art young, and desirest child and marriage. But I ask thee: Art thou a man entitled to desire a child? Art thou the victorious one, the self-conqueror, theruler of thy passions, the master of thy virtues? Thus do I ask thee.

Or doth the animal speak in thy wish, and necessity? Or isolation? Or discord in thee?

I would have thy victory and freedom long for a child. Living monuments shalt thou build to thy victory and emancipation.

Beyond thyself shalt thou build. But first of all must thou be built thyself, rectangular in body and soul.79

Marriage: so call I the will of the twain to create the one that is more than those who created it.80

That which the many-too-many call marriage, those superfluous ones—ah, what shall I call it?

Ah, the poverty of soul in the twain! Ah, the filth of soul in the twain! Ah, the pitiable self-complacency in the twain!

Marriage they call it all; and they say their marriages are made in heaven.

Well, I do not like it, that heaven of the superfluous; No, I do not like them, those animals tangled in the heavenly toils!

Far from me also be the God who limpeth thither to bless what he hath not matched!

Laugh not at such marriages! What child hath not had reason to weep over its parents?80

Every one regardeth dying as a great matter: but as yet death is not a festival. Not yet have people learned to inaugurate the finest festivals.82

My death, praise I unto you, the voluntary death, which cometh unto me because I want it.

And when shall I want it?—He that hath a goal and an heir, wanteth death at the right time for the goal and the heir.83

It is your thirst to become sacrifices and gifts yourselves: and therefore have ye the thirst to accumulate all riches in your soul.

Insatiably striveth your soul for treasures and jewels, because your virtue is insatiable in desiring to bestow.

Ye constrain all things to flow towards you and into you, so that they shall flow back again out of your fountain as the gifts of your love.

Verily, an appropriator of all values must such bestowing love become; but healthy and holy, call I this selfishness.86

When ye are exalted above praise and blame, and your will would command all things, as a loving one's will: there is the origin of your virtue.87

Remain true to the earth, my brethren, with the power of your virtue! Let your bestowing love and your knowledge be devoted to be the meaning of the earth! Thus do I pray and conjure you.

Let it not fly away from the earthly and beat against eternal walls with its wings!88

The man of knowledge must be able not only to love his enemies, but also to hate his friends.90

Once did people say God, when they looked out upon distant seas; now, however, have I taught you to say, Superman.98

Could yeconceivea God?—But let this mean Will to Truth unto you, that everything be transformed into the humanly conceivable, the humanly visible, the humanly sensible! Your own discernment shall ye follow out to the end!99

Creating—that is the great salvation from suffering, and life's alleviation. But for the creator to appear, suffering itself is needed, and much transformation.100

What would there be to create if there were—? Gods!101

Man himself is to the discerning one: the animal with red cheeks.102

Verily, I like them not, the merciful ones, whose bliss is in their pity: too destitute are they of bashfulness.

If I must be pitiful, I dislike to be called so; and if I be so, it is preferably at a distance.102

Since humanity came into being, man hath enjoyed himself too little: that alone, my brethren, is our original sin!103

Great obligations do not make grateful, but revengeful; and when a small kindness is not forgotten, it becometh a gnawing worm.103

The sting of conscience teacheth one to sting.103

Ah, where in the world have there been greater follies than with the pitiful? And what in the world hath caused more suffering than the follies of the pitiful?

Woe unto all loving ones who have not an elevation which is above their pity!

Thus spake the devil unto me, once a time: "Even God hath his hell: it is his love for man."105

All great love is above all its pity: for it seeketh—to create what is loved!

"Myself do I offer unto my love,and my neighbour as myself"—such is the language of all creators.105

"Here are priests: but although they are mine enemies, pass them quietly and with sleeping swords!"

Even among them there are heroes; many of them have suffered too much:—so they want to make others suffer.

Bad enemies are they: nothing is more revengeful than their meekness.106

When a person goeth through fire for his teaching—what doth that prove! It is more, verily, when out of one's own burning cometh one's own teaching!108

Thatyourvery Self be in your action, as the mother is in the child: let that beyourformula of virtue!112


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