Reading Help Beyond good and evil
exoticism and hidden permanency, were to depreciate their most `
` radical proclivities, subvert their consciences, make their minds `
` narrow, and their tastes 'national'--what! a statesman who should `
` do all this, which his people would have to do penance for `
` throughout their whole future, if they had a future, such a `
` statesman would be GREAT, would he?"--"Undoubtedly!" replied the `
` other old patriot vehemently, "otherwise he COULD NOT have done `
` it! It was mad perhaps to wish such a thing! But perhaps `
` everything great has been just as mad at its commencement!"-- `
` "Misuse of words!" cried his interlocutor, contradictorily-- `
` "strong! strong! Strong and mad! NOT great!"--The old men had `
` obviously become heated as they thus shouted their "truths" in `
` each other's faces, but I, in my happiness and apartness, `
` considered how soon a stronger one may become master of the `
` strong, and also that there is a compensation for the `
` intellectual superficialising of a nation--namely, in the `
` deepening of another. `
` `
` 242. Whether we call it "civilization," or "humanising," or `
` "progress," which now distinguishes the European, whether we call `
` it simply, without praise or blame, by the political formula the `
` DEMOCRATIC movement in Europe--behind all the moral and political `
` foregrounds pointed to by such formulas, an immense PHYSIOLOGICAL `
` PROCESS goes on, which is ever extending the process of the `
` assimilation of Europeans, their increasing detachment from the `
` conditions under which, climatically and hereditarily, united `
` races originate, their increasing independence of every definite `
` milieu, that for centuries would fain inscribe itself with equal `
` demands on soul and body,--that is to say, the slow emergence of `
` an essentially SUPER-NATIONAL and nomadic species of man, who `
` possesses, physiologically speaking, a maximum of the art and `
` power of adaptation as his typical distinction. This process of `
` the EVOLVING EUROPEAN, which can be retarded in its TEMPO by `
` great relapses, but will perhaps just gain and grow thereby in `
` vehemence and depth--the still-raging storm and stress of `
` "national sentiment" pertains to it, and also the anarchism which `
` is appearing at present--this process will probably arrive at `
` results on which its naive propagators and panegyrists, the `
` apostles of "modern ideas," would least care to reckon. The same `
` new conditions under which on an average a levelling and `
` mediocrising of man will take place--a useful, industrious, `
` variously serviceable, and clever gregarious man--are in the `
` highest degree suitable to give rise to exceptional men of the `
` most dangerous and attractive qualities. For, while the capacity `
` for adaptation, which is every day trying changing conditions, `
` and begins a new work with every generation, almost with every `
` decade, makes the POWERFULNESS of the type impossible; while the `
` collective impression of such future Europeans will probably be `
` that of numerous, talkative, weak-willed, and very handy workmen `
` who REQUIRE a master, a commander, as they require their daily `
` bread; while, therefore, the democratising of Europe will tend to `
` the production of a type prepared for SLAVERY in the most subtle `
` sense of the term: the STRONG man will necessarily in individual `
` and exceptional cases, become stronger and richer than he has `
` perhaps ever been before--owing to the unprejudicedness of his `
` schooling, owing to the immense variety of practice, art, and `
` disguise. I meant to say that the democratising of Europe is at `
` the same time an involuntary arrangement for the rearing of `
` TYRANTS--taking the word in all its meanings, even in its most `
` spiritual sense. `
` `
` 243. I hear with pleasure that our sun is moving rapidly towards `
` the constellation Hercules: and I hope that the men on this earth `
` will do like the sun. And we foremost, we good Europeans! `
` `
` 244. There was a time when it was customary to call Germans `
` "deep" by way of distinction; but now that the most successful `
` type of new Germanism is covetous of quite other honours, and `
` perhaps misses "smartness" in all that has depth, it is almost `
` opportune and patriotic to doubt whether we did not formerly `
` deceive ourselves with that commendation: in short, whether `
` German depth is not at bottom something different and worse--and `
` something from which, thank God, we are on the point of `
` successfully ridding ourselves. Let us try, then, to relearn with `
` regard to German depth; the only thing necessary for the purpose `
` is a little vivisection of the German soul.--The German soul is `
` above all manifold, varied in its source, aggregated and super- `
` imposed, rather than actually built: this is owing to its origin. `
` A German who would embolden himself to assert: "Two souls, alas, `
` dwell in my breast," would make a bad guess at the truth, or, `
` more correctly, he would come far short of the truth about the `
` number of souls. As a people made up of the most extraordinary `
` mixing and mingling of races, perhaps even with a preponderance `
` of the pre-Aryan element as the "people of the centre" in every `
` sense of the term, the Germans are more intangible, more ample, `
` more contradictory, more unknown, more incalculable, more `
` surprising, and even more terrifying than other peoples are to `
` themselves:--they escape DEFINITION, and are thereby alone the `
` despair of the French. It IS characteristic of the Germans that `
` the question: "What is German?" never dies out among them. `
` Kotzebue certainly knew his Germans well enough: "We are known," `
` they cried jubilantly to him--but Sand also thought he knew them. `
` Jean Paul knew what he was doing when he declared himself `
` incensed at Fichte's lying but patriotic flatteries and `
` exaggerations,--but it is probable that Goethe thought `
` differently about Germans from Jean Paul, even though he `
` acknowledged him to be right with regard to Fichte. It is a `
` question what Goethe really thought about the Germans?--But about `
` many things around him he never spoke explicitly, and all his `
` life he knew how to keep an astute silence--probably he had good `
` reason for it. It is certain that it was not the "Wars of `
` Independence" that made him look up more joyfully, any more than `
` it was the French Revolution,--the event on account of which he `
` RECONSTRUCTED his "Faust," and indeed the whole problem of "man," `
` was the appearance of Napoleon. There are words of Goethe in `
` which he condemns with impatient severity, as from a foreign `
` land, that which Germans take a pride in, he once defined the `
` famous German turn of mind as "Indulgence towards its own and `
` others' weaknesses." Was he wrong? it is characteristic of `
` Germans that one is seldom entirely wrong about them. The German `
` soul has passages and galleries in it, there are caves, hiding- `
` places, and dungeons therein, its disorder has much of the charm `
` of the mysterious, the German is well acquainted with the bypaths `
` to chaos. And as everything loves its symbol, so the German loves `
` the clouds and all that is obscure, evolving, crepuscular, damp, `
` and shrouded, it seems to him that everything uncertain, `
` undeveloped, self-displacing, and growing is "deep". The German `
` himself does not EXIST, he is BECOMING, he is "developing `
` himself". "Development" is therefore the essentially German `
` discovery and hit in the great domain of philosophical formulas,-- `
` a ruling idea, which, together with German beer and German music, `
` is labouring to Germanise all Europe. Foreigners are astonished `
` and attracted by the riddles which the conflicting nature at the `
` basis of the German soul propounds to them (riddles which Hegel `
` systematised and Richard Wagner has in the end set to music). `
` "Good-natured and spiteful"--such a juxtaposition, preposterous in `
` the case of every other people, is unfortunately only too often `
` justified in Germany one has only to live for a while among `
` Swabians to know this! The clumsiness of the German scholar and `
` his social distastefulness agree alarmingly well with his physical `
` rope-dancing and nimble boldness, of which all the Gods have `
` learnt to be afraid. If any one wishes to see the "German soul" `
` demonstrated ad oculos, let him only look at German taste, at `
` German arts and manners what boorish indifference to "taste"! How `
` the noblest and the commonest stand there in juxtaposition! How `
` disorderly and how rich is the whole constitution of this soul! `
` The German DRAGS at his soul, he drags at everything he `
` experiences. He digests his events badly; he never gets "done" `
` with them; and German depth is often only a difficult, hesitating `
` "digestion." And just as all chronic invalids, all dyspeptics like `
` what is convenient, so the German loves "frankness" and "honesty"; `
` it is so CONVENIENT to be frank and honest!--This confidingness, `
` this complaisance, this showing-the-cards of German HONESTY, is `
` probably the most dangerous and most successful disguise which the `
` German is up to nowadays: it is his proper Mephistophelean art; `
` with this he can "still achieve much"! The German lets himself go, `
` and thereby gazes with faithful, blue, empty German eyes--and `
` other countries immediately confound him with his `
` dressing-gown!--I meant to say that, let "German depth" be what it `
` will--among ourselves alone we perhaps take the liberty to laugh `
` at it--we shall do well to continue henceforth to honour its `
` appearance and good name, and not barter away too cheaply our old `
` reputation as a people of depth for Prussian "smartness," and `
` Berlin wit and sand. It is wise for a people to pose, and LET `
` itself be regarded, as profound, clumsy, good-natured, honest, and `
` foolish: it might even be--profound to do so! Finally, we should `
` do honour to our name--we are not called the "TIUSCHE VOLK" `
` (deceptive people) for nothing. . . . `
` `
` 245. The "good old" time is past, it sang itself out in Mozart-- `
` how happy are WE that his ROCOCO still speaks to us, that his `
` "good company," his tender enthusiasm, his childish delight in `
` the Chinese and its flourishes, his courtesy of heart, his `
` longing for the elegant, the amorous, the tripping, the tearful, `
` and his belief in the South, can still appeal to SOMETHING LEFT `
` in us! Ah, some time or other it will be over with it!--but who `
` can doubt that it will be over still sooner with the intelligence `
` and taste for Beethoven! For he was only the last echo of a break `
` and transition in style, and NOT, like Mozart, the last echo of a `
` great European taste which had existed for centuries. Beethoven `
` is the intermediate event between an old mellow soul that is `
` constantly breaking down, and a future over-young soul that is `
` always COMING; there is spread over his music the twilight of `
` eternal loss and eternal extravagant hope,--the same light in `
` which Europe was bathed when it dreamed with Rousseau, when it `
` danced round the Tree of Liberty of the Revolution, and finally `
` almost fell down in adoration before Napoleon. But how rapidly `
` does THIS very sentiment now pale, how difficult nowadays is even `
` the APPREHENSION of this sentiment, how strangely does the `
` language of Rousseau, Schiller, Shelley, and Byron sound to our `
` ear, in whom COLLECTIVELY the same fate of Europe was able to `
` SPEAK, which knew how to SING in Beethoven!--Whatever German `
` music came afterwards, belongs to Romanticism, that is to say, to `
` a movement which, historically considered, was still shorter, `
` more fleeting, and more superficial than that great interlude, `
` the transition of Europe from Rousseau to Napoleon, and to the `
` rise of democracy. Weber--but what do WE care nowadays for `
` "Freischutz" and "Oberon"! Or Marschner's "Hans Heiling" and `
` "Vampyre"! Or even Wagner's "Tannhauser"! That is extinct, `
` although not yet forgotten music. This whole music of `
` Romanticism, besides, was not noble enough, was not musical `
` enough, to maintain its position anywhere but in the theatre and `
` before the masses; from the beginning it was second-rate music, `
` which was little thought of by genuine musicians. It was `
` different with Felix Mendelssohn, that halcyon master, who, on `
` account of his lighter, purer, happier soul, quickly acquired `
` admiration, and was equally quickly forgotten: as the beautiful `
` EPISODE of German music. But with regard to Robert Schumann, who `
` took things seriously, and has been taken seriously from the `
` first--he was the last that founded a school,--do we not now `
` regard it as a satisfaction, a relief, a deliverance, that this `
`
` radical proclivities, subvert their consciences, make their minds `
` narrow, and their tastes 'national'--what! a statesman who should `
` do all this, which his people would have to do penance for `
` throughout their whole future, if they had a future, such a `
` statesman would be GREAT, would he?"--"Undoubtedly!" replied the `
` other old patriot vehemently, "otherwise he COULD NOT have done `
` it! It was mad perhaps to wish such a thing! But perhaps `
` everything great has been just as mad at its commencement!"-- `
` "Misuse of words!" cried his interlocutor, contradictorily-- `
` "strong! strong! Strong and mad! NOT great!"--The old men had `
` obviously become heated as they thus shouted their "truths" in `
` each other's faces, but I, in my happiness and apartness, `
` considered how soon a stronger one may become master of the `
` strong, and also that there is a compensation for the `
` intellectual superficialising of a nation--namely, in the `
` deepening of another. `
` `
` 242. Whether we call it "civilization," or "humanising," or `
` "progress," which now distinguishes the European, whether we call `
` it simply, without praise or blame, by the political formula the `
` DEMOCRATIC movement in Europe--behind all the moral and political `
` foregrounds pointed to by such formulas, an immense PHYSIOLOGICAL `
` PROCESS goes on, which is ever extending the process of the `
` assimilation of Europeans, their increasing detachment from the `
` conditions under which, climatically and hereditarily, united `
` races originate, their increasing independence of every definite `
` milieu, that for centuries would fain inscribe itself with equal `
` demands on soul and body,--that is to say, the slow emergence of `
` an essentially SUPER-NATIONAL and nomadic species of man, who `
` possesses, physiologically speaking, a maximum of the art and `
` power of adaptation as his typical distinction. This process of `
` the EVOLVING EUROPEAN, which can be retarded in its TEMPO by `
` great relapses, but will perhaps just gain and grow thereby in `
` vehemence and depth--the still-raging storm and stress of `
` "national sentiment" pertains to it, and also the anarchism which `
` is appearing at present--this process will probably arrive at `
` results on which its naive propagators and panegyrists, the `
` apostles of "modern ideas," would least care to reckon. The same `
` new conditions under which on an average a levelling and `
` mediocrising of man will take place--a useful, industrious, `
` variously serviceable, and clever gregarious man--are in the `
` highest degree suitable to give rise to exceptional men of the `
` most dangerous and attractive qualities. For, while the capacity `
` for adaptation, which is every day trying changing conditions, `
` and begins a new work with every generation, almost with every `
` decade, makes the POWERFULNESS of the type impossible; while the `
` collective impression of such future Europeans will probably be `
` that of numerous, talkative, weak-willed, and very handy workmen `
` who REQUIRE a master, a commander, as they require their daily `
` bread; while, therefore, the democratising of Europe will tend to `
` the production of a type prepared for SLAVERY in the most subtle `
` sense of the term: the STRONG man will necessarily in individual `
` and exceptional cases, become stronger and richer than he has `
` perhaps ever been before--owing to the unprejudicedness of his `
` schooling, owing to the immense variety of practice, art, and `
` disguise. I meant to say that the democratising of Europe is at `
` the same time an involuntary arrangement for the rearing of `
` TYRANTS--taking the word in all its meanings, even in its most `
` spiritual sense. `
` `
` 243. I hear with pleasure that our sun is moving rapidly towards `
` the constellation Hercules: and I hope that the men on this earth `
` will do like the sun. And we foremost, we good Europeans! `
` `
` 244. There was a time when it was customary to call Germans `
` "deep" by way of distinction; but now that the most successful `
` type of new Germanism is covetous of quite other honours, and `
` perhaps misses "smartness" in all that has depth, it is almost `
` opportune and patriotic to doubt whether we did not formerly `
` deceive ourselves with that commendation: in short, whether `
` German depth is not at bottom something different and worse--and `
` something from which, thank God, we are on the point of `
` successfully ridding ourselves. Let us try, then, to relearn with `
` regard to German depth; the only thing necessary for the purpose `
` is a little vivisection of the German soul.--The German soul is `
` above all manifold, varied in its source, aggregated and super- `
` imposed, rather than actually built: this is owing to its origin. `
` A German who would embolden himself to assert: "Two souls, alas, `
` dwell in my breast," would make a bad guess at the truth, or, `
` more correctly, he would come far short of the truth about the `
` number of souls. As a people made up of the most extraordinary `
` mixing and mingling of races, perhaps even with a preponderance `
` of the pre-Aryan element as the "people of the centre" in every `
` sense of the term, the Germans are more intangible, more ample, `
` more contradictory, more unknown, more incalculable, more `
` surprising, and even more terrifying than other peoples are to `
` themselves:--they escape DEFINITION, and are thereby alone the `
` despair of the French. It IS characteristic of the Germans that `
` the question: "What is German?" never dies out among them. `
` Kotzebue certainly knew his Germans well enough: "We are known," `
` they cried jubilantly to him--but Sand also thought he knew them. `
` Jean Paul knew what he was doing when he declared himself `
` incensed at Fichte's lying but patriotic flatteries and `
` exaggerations,--but it is probable that Goethe thought `
` differently about Germans from Jean Paul, even though he `
` acknowledged him to be right with regard to Fichte. It is a `
` question what Goethe really thought about the Germans?--But about `
` many things around him he never spoke explicitly, and all his `
` life he knew how to keep an astute silence--probably he had good `
` reason for it. It is certain that it was not the "Wars of `
` Independence" that made him look up more joyfully, any more than `
` it was the French Revolution,--the event on account of which he `
` RECONSTRUCTED his "Faust," and indeed the whole problem of "man," `
` was the appearance of Napoleon. There are words of Goethe in `
` which he condemns with impatient severity, as from a foreign `
` land, that which Germans take a pride in, he once defined the `
` famous German turn of mind as "Indulgence towards its own and `
` others' weaknesses." Was he wrong? it is characteristic of `
` Germans that one is seldom entirely wrong about them. The German `
` soul has passages and galleries in it, there are caves, hiding- `
` places, and dungeons therein, its disorder has much of the charm `
` of the mysterious, the German is well acquainted with the bypaths `
` to chaos. And as everything loves its symbol, so the German loves `
` the clouds and all that is obscure, evolving, crepuscular, damp, `
` and shrouded, it seems to him that everything uncertain, `
` undeveloped, self-displacing, and growing is "deep". The German `
` himself does not EXIST, he is BECOMING, he is "developing `
` himself". "Development" is therefore the essentially German `
` discovery and hit in the great domain of philosophical formulas,-- `
` a ruling idea, which, together with German beer and German music, `
` is labouring to Germanise all Europe. Foreigners are astonished `
` and attracted by the riddles which the conflicting nature at the `
` basis of the German soul propounds to them (riddles which Hegel `
` systematised and Richard Wagner has in the end set to music). `
` "Good-natured and spiteful"--such a juxtaposition, preposterous in `
` the case of every other people, is unfortunately only too often `
` justified in Germany one has only to live for a while among `
` Swabians to know this! The clumsiness of the German scholar and `
` his social distastefulness agree alarmingly well with his physical `
` rope-dancing and nimble boldness, of which all the Gods have `
` learnt to be afraid. If any one wishes to see the "German soul" `
` demonstrated ad oculos, let him only look at German taste, at `
` German arts and manners what boorish indifference to "taste"! How `
` the noblest and the commonest stand there in juxtaposition! How `
` disorderly and how rich is the whole constitution of this soul! `
` The German DRAGS at his soul, he drags at everything he `
` experiences. He digests his events badly; he never gets "done" `
` with them; and German depth is often only a difficult, hesitating `
` "digestion." And just as all chronic invalids, all dyspeptics like `
` what is convenient, so the German loves "frankness" and "honesty"; `
` it is so CONVENIENT to be frank and honest!--This confidingness, `
` this complaisance, this showing-the-cards of German HONESTY, is `
` probably the most dangerous and most successful disguise which the `
` German is up to nowadays: it is his proper Mephistophelean art; `
` with this he can "still achieve much"! The German lets himself go, `
` and thereby gazes with faithful, blue, empty German eyes--and `
` other countries immediately confound him with his `
` dressing-gown!--I meant to say that, let "German depth" be what it `
` will--among ourselves alone we perhaps take the liberty to laugh `
` at it--we shall do well to continue henceforth to honour its `
` appearance and good name, and not barter away too cheaply our old `
` reputation as a people of depth for Prussian "smartness," and `
` Berlin wit and sand. It is wise for a people to pose, and LET `
` itself be regarded, as profound, clumsy, good-natured, honest, and `
` foolish: it might even be--profound to do so! Finally, we should `
` do honour to our name--we are not called the "TIUSCHE VOLK" `
` (deceptive people) for nothing. . . . `
` `
` 245. The "good old" time is past, it sang itself out in Mozart-- `
` how happy are WE that his ROCOCO still speaks to us, that his `
` "good company," his tender enthusiasm, his childish delight in `
` the Chinese and its flourishes, his courtesy of heart, his `
` longing for the elegant, the amorous, the tripping, the tearful, `
` and his belief in the South, can still appeal to SOMETHING LEFT `
` in us! Ah, some time or other it will be over with it!--but who `
` can doubt that it will be over still sooner with the intelligence `
` and taste for Beethoven! For he was only the last echo of a break `
` and transition in style, and NOT, like Mozart, the last echo of a `
` great European taste which had existed for centuries. Beethoven `
` is the intermediate event between an old mellow soul that is `
` constantly breaking down, and a future over-young soul that is `
` always COMING; there is spread over his music the twilight of `
` eternal loss and eternal extravagant hope,--the same light in `
` which Europe was bathed when it dreamed with Rousseau, when it `
` danced round the Tree of Liberty of the Revolution, and finally `
` almost fell down in adoration before Napoleon. But how rapidly `
` does THIS very sentiment now pale, how difficult nowadays is even `
` the APPREHENSION of this sentiment, how strangely does the `
` language of Rousseau, Schiller, Shelley, and Byron sound to our `
` ear, in whom COLLECTIVELY the same fate of Europe was able to `
` SPEAK, which knew how to SING in Beethoven!--Whatever German `
` music came afterwards, belongs to Romanticism, that is to say, to `
` a movement which, historically considered, was still shorter, `
` more fleeting, and more superficial than that great interlude, `
` the transition of Europe from Rousseau to Napoleon, and to the `
` rise of democracy. Weber--but what do WE care nowadays for `
` "Freischutz" and "Oberon"! Or Marschner's "Hans Heiling" and `
` "Vampyre"! Or even Wagner's "Tannhauser"! That is extinct, `
` although not yet forgotten music. This whole music of `
` Romanticism, besides, was not noble enough, was not musical `
` enough, to maintain its position anywhere but in the theatre and `
` before the masses; from the beginning it was second-rate music, `
` which was little thought of by genuine musicians. It was `
` different with Felix Mendelssohn, that halcyon master, who, on `
` account of his lighter, purer, happier soul, quickly acquired `
` admiration, and was equally quickly forgotten: as the beautiful `
` EPISODE of German music. But with regard to Robert Schumann, who `
` took things seriously, and has been taken seriously from the `
` first--he was the last that founded a school,--do we not now `
` regard it as a satisfaction, a relief, a deliverance, that this `
`