FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE
THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA
A BOOK FOR ALL AND NONE
TRANSLATED BY THOMAS COMMON
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION
BY MRS FORSTER-NIETZSCHE.
THUS
SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA.
FIRST
PART.
Zarathustra's
Prologue.
Zarathustra'
Discourses.
I. The Three Metamorphoses.
II. The Academic Chairs of Virtue.
III. Backworldsmen.
IV. The Despisers of the Body.
V. Joys and Passions.
VI. The Pale Criminal.
VII. Reading and Writing.
VIII. The Tree on the Hill.
IX. The Preachers of Death.
X. War and Warriors.
XI. The New Idol.
XII. The Flies in the Market-place.
XIII. Chastity.
XIV. The Friend.
XV. The Thousand and One Goals.
XVI. Neighbour-Love.
XVII. The Way of the Creating One.
XVIII. Old and Young Women.
XIX. The Bite of the Adder.
XX. Child and Marriage.
XXI. Voluntary Death.
XXII. The Bestowing Virtue.
SECOND
PART.
XXIII. The Child with the Mirror.
XXIV. In the Happy Isles.
XXV. The Pitiful.
XXVI. The Priests.
XXVII. The Virtuous.
XXVIII. The Rabble.
XXIX. The Tarantulas.
XXX. The Famous Wise Ones.
XXXI. The Night-Song.
XXXII. The Dance-Song.
XXXIII. The Grave-Song.
XXXIV. Self-Surpassing.
XXXV. The Sublime Ones.
XXXVI. The Land of Culture.
XXXVII. Immaculate Perception.
XXXVIII. Scholars.
XXXIX. Poets.
XL. Great Events.
XLI. The Soothsayer.
XLII. Redemption.
XLIII. Manly Prudence.
XLIV. The Stillest Hour
THIRD
PART.
XLV. The Wanderer.
XLVI. The Vision and the Enigma.
XLVII. Involuntary Bliss.
XLVIII. Before Sunrise.
XLIX. The Bedwarfing Virtue.
L. On the Olive-Mount.
LI. On Passing-by.
LII. The Apostates.
LIII. The Return Home.
LIV. The Three Evil Things.
LV. The Spirit of Gravity.
LVI. Old and New Tables.
LVII. The Convalescent.
LVIII. The Great Longing.
LIX. The Second Dance-Song.
LX. The Seven Seals.
FOURTH
AND LAST PART.
LXI. The Honey Sacrifice.
LXII. The Cry of Distress.
LXIII. Talk with the Kings.
LXIV. The Leech.
LXV. The Magician.
LXVI. Out of Service.
LXVII. The Ugliest Man.
LXVIII. The Voluntary Beggar.
LXIX. The Shadow.
LXX. Noon-Tide.
LXXI. The Greeting.
LXXII. The Supper.
LXIII. The Higher Man.
LXXIV. The Song of Melancholy.
LXXV. Science.
LXXVI. Among Daughters of the Desert.
LXXVII. The Awakening.
LXXVIII. The Ass-Festival.
LXXIX. The Drunken Song.
LXXX. The Sign.
APPENDIX.
Notes
on "Thus Spake Zarathustra" by Anthony M. Ludovici.
INTRODUCTION
BY MRS FORSTER-NIETZSCHE.
HOW
ZARATHUSTRA CAME INTO BEING.
"Zarathustra"
is my brother's most personal work; it is the history of his
most
individual experiences, of his friendships, ideals, raptures,
bitterest
disappointments and sorrows. Above it
all, however, there soars,
transfiguring
it, the image of his greatest hopes and remotest aims. My
brother
had the figure of Zarathustra in his mind from his very earliest
youth: he once told me that even as a child he had
dreamt of him. At
different
periods in his life, he would call this haunter of his dreams by
different
names; "but in the end," he declares in a note on the subject,
"I
had
to do a PERSIAN the honour of identifying him with this creature of my
fancy. Persians were the first to take a broad and
comprehensive view of
history. Every series of evolutions, according to
them, was presided over
by
a prophet; and every prophet had his 'Hazar,'--his dynasty of a thousand
years."
All
Zarathustra's views, as also his personality, were early conceptions of
my
brother's mind. Whoever reads his
posthumously published writings for
the
years 1869-82 with care, will constantly meet with passages suggestive
of
Zarathustra's thoughts and doctrines.
For instance, the ideal of the
Superman
is put forth quite clearly in all his writings during the years
1873-75;
and in "We Philologists", the following remarkable observations
occur:--
"How
can one praise and glorify a nation as a whole?--Even among the
Greeks,
it was the INDIVIDUALS that counted."
"The
Greeks are interesting and extremely important because they reared
such
a vast number of great individuals. How
was this possible? The
question
is one which ought to be studied.
"I
am interested only in the relations of a people to the rearing of the
individual
man, and among the Greeks the conditions were unusually
favourable
for the development of the individual; not by any means owing to
the
goodness of the people, but because of the struggles of their evil
instincts.
"WITH
THE HELP OF FAVOURABLE MEASURES GREAT INDIVIDUALS MIGHT BE REARED WHO
WOULD
BE BOTH DIFFERENT FROM AND HIGHER THAN THOSE WHO HERETOFORE HAVE OWED
THEIR
EXISTENCE TO MERE CHANCE. Here we may
still be hopeful: in the
rearing
of exceptional men."
The
notion of rearing the Superman is only a new form of an ideal Nietzsche
already
had in his youth, that "THE OBJECT OF MANKIND SHOULD LIE IN ITS
HIGHEST
INDIVIDUALS" (or, as he writes in "Schopenhauer as Educator":
"Mankind
ought constantly to be striving to produce great men--this and
nothing
else is its duty.") But the ideals
he most revered in those days
are
no longer held to be the highest types of men.
No, around this future
ideal
of a coming humanity--the Superman--the poet spread the veil of
becoming. Who can tell to what glorious heights man
can still ascend?
That
is why, after having tested the worth of our noblest ideal--that of
the
Saviour, in the light of the new valuations, the poet cries with
passionate
emphasis in "Zarathustra":
"Never
yet hath there been a Superman. Naked
have I seen both of them, the
greatest
and the smallest man:--
All-too-similar
are they still to each other. Verily
even the greatest
found
I--all-too-human!"--
The
phrase "the rearing of the Superman," has very often been
misunderstood. By the word "rearing," in this
case, is meant the act of
modifying
by means of new and higher values--values which, as laws and
guides
of conduct and opinion, are now to rule over mankind. In general
the
doctrine of the Superman can only be understood correctly in
conjunction
with other ideas of the author's, such as:--the Order of Rank,
the
Will to Power, and the Transvaluation of all Values. He assumes that
Christianity,
as a product of the resentment of the botched and the weak,
has
put in ban all that is beautiful, strong, proud, and powerful, in fact
all
the qualities resulting from strength, and that, in consequence, all
forces
which tend to promote or elevate life have been seriously
undermined. Now, however, a new table of valuations must
be placed over
mankind--namely,
that of the strong, mighty, and magnificent man,
overflowing
with life and elevated to his zenith--the Superman, who is now
put
before us with overpowering passion as the aim of our life, hope, and
will. And just as the old system of valuing, which
only extolled the
qualities
favourable to the weak, the suffering, and the oppressed, has
succeeded
in producing a weak, suffering, and "modern" race, so this new
and
reversed system of valuing ought to rear a healthy, strong, lively, and
courageous
type, which would be a glory to life itself.
Stated briefly,
the
leading principle of this new system of valuing would be: "All that
proceeds
from power is good, all that springs from weakness is bad."
This
type must not be regarded as a fanciful figure: it is not a nebulous
hope
which is to be realised at some indefinitely remote period, thousands
of
years hence; nor is it a new species (in the Darwinian sense) of which
we
can know nothing, and which it would therefore be somewhat absurd to
strive
after. But it is meant to be a
possibility which men of the present
could
realise with all their spiritual and physical energies, provided they
adopted
the new values.
The
author of "Zarathustra" never lost sight of that egregious example of
a
transvaluation
of all values through Christianity, whereby the whole of the
deified
mode of life and thought of the Greeks, as well as strong Romedom,
was
almost annihilated or transvalued in a comparatively short time. Could
not
a rejuvenated Graeco-Roman system of valuing (once it had been refined
and
made more profound by the schooling which two thousand years of
Christianity
had provided) effect another such revolution within a
calculable
period of time, until that glorious type of manhood shall
finally
appear which is to be our new faith and hope, and in the creation
of
which Zarathustra exhorts us to participate?
In
his private notes on the subject the author uses the expression
"Superman"
(always in the singular, by-the-bye), as signifying "the most
thoroughly
well-constituted type," as opposed to "modern man"; above all,
however,
he designates Zarathustra himself as an example of the Superman.
In
"Ecco Homo" he is careful to enlighten us concerning the precursors
and
prerequisites
to the advent of this highest type, in referring to a certain
passage
in the "Gay Science":--
"In
order to understand this type, we must first be quite clear in regard
to
the leading physiological condition on which it depends: this condition
is
what I call GREAT HEALTHINESS. I know
not how to express my meaning
more
plainly or more personally than I have done already in one of the last
chapters
(Aphorism 382) of the fifth book of the 'Gaya Scienza'."
"We,
the new, the nameless, the hard-to-understand,"--it says there,--"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 all healthiness hitherto. He whose
soul longeth to experience
the
whole range of hitherto recognised values and desirabilities, and to
circumnavigate
all the coasts of this ideal 'Mediterranean Sea', who, from
the
adventures of his most personal experience, wants to know how it feels
to
be a conqueror, and discoverer of the ideal--as likewise how it is with
the
artist, the saint, the legislator, the sage, the scholar, the devotee,
the
prophet, and the godly non-conformist of the old style:--requires one
thing
above all for that purpose, GREAT HEALTHINESS--such healthiness as
one
not only possesses, but also constantly acquires and must acquire,
because
one unceasingly sacrifices it again, and must sacrifice it!--And
now,
after having been long on the way in this fashion, we Argonauts of the
ideal,
more courageous perhaps than prudent, and often enough shipwrecked
and
brought to grief, nevertheless dangerously healthy, always healthy
again,--it
would seem as if, in recompense for it all, that we have a still
undiscovered
country before us, the boundaries of which no one has yet
seen,
a beyond to all countries and corners of the ideal known hitherto, a
world
so over-rich in the beautiful, the strange, the questionable, the
frightful,
and the divine, that our curiosity as well as our thirst for
possession
thereof, have got out of hand--alas! that nothing will now any
longer
satisfy us!--
"How
could we still be content with THE MAN OF THE PRESENT DAY after such
outlooks,
and with such a craving in our conscience and consciousness? Sad
enough;
but it is unavoidable that we should look on the worthiest aims and
hopes
of the man of the present day with ill-concealed amusement, and
perhaps
should no longer look at them. Another
ideal runs on before us, a
strange,
tempting ideal full of danger, to which we should not like to
persuade
any one, because we do not so readily acknowledge any one's RIGHT
THERETO: the ideal of a spirit who plays naively
(that is to say
involuntarily
and from overflowing abundance and power) with everything
that
has hitherto been called holy, good, intangible, or divine; to whom
the
loftiest conception which the people have reasonably made their measure
of
value, would already practically imply danger, ruin, abasement, or at
least
relaxation, blindness, or temporary self-forgetfulness; the ideal of
a
humanly superhuman welfare and benevolence, which will often enough
appear
INHUMAN, for example, when put alongside of all past seriousness on
earth,
and alongside of all past solemnities in bearing, word, tone, look,
morality,
and pursuit, as their truest involuntary parody--and WITH which,
nevertheless,
perhaps THE GREAT SERIOUSNESS only commences, when the proper
interrogative
mark is set up, the fate of the soul changes, the hour-hand
moves,
and tragedy begins..."
Although
the figure of Zarathustra and a large number of the leading
thoughts
in this work had appeared much earlier in the dreams and writings
of
the author, "Thus Spake Zarathustra" did not actually come into being
until
the month of August 1881 in Sils Maria; and it was the idea of the
Eternal
Recurrence of all things which finally induced my brother to set
forth
his new views in poetic language. In
regard to his first conception
of
this idea, his autobiographical sketch, "Ecce Homo", written in the
autumn
of 1888, contains the following passage:--
"The
fundamental idea of my work--namely, the Eternal Recurrence of all
things--this
highest of all possible formulae of a Yea-saying philosophy,
first
occurred to me in August 1881. I made a
note of the thought on a
sheet
of paper, with the postscript: 6,000
feet beyond men and time! That
day
I happened to be wandering through the woods alongside of the lake of
Silvaplana,
and I halted beside a huge, pyramidal and towering rock not far
from
Surlei. It was then that the thought
struck me. Looking back now, I
find
that exactly two months previous to this inspiration, I had had an
omen
of its coming in the form of a sudden and decisive alteration in my
tastes--more
particularly in music. It would even be
possible to consider
all
'Zarathustra' as a musical composition.
At all events, a very
necessary
condition in its production was a renaissance in myself of the
art
of hearing. In a small mountain resort
(Recoaro) near Vicenza, where I
spent
the spring of 1881, I and my friend and Maestro, Peter Gast--also one
who
had been born again--discovered that the phoenix music that hovered
over
us, wore lighter and brighter plumes than it had done theretofore."
During
the month of August 1881 my brother resolved to reveal the teaching
of
the Eternal Recurrence, in dithyrambic and psalmodic form, through the
mouth
of Zarathustra. Among the notes of this
period, we found a page on
which
is written the first definite plan of "Thus Spake Zarathustra":--
"MIDDAY
AND ETERNITY."
"GUIDE-POSTS
TO A NEW WAY OF LIVING."
Beneath
this is written:--
"Zarathustra
born on lake Urmi; left his home in his thirtieth year,
went
into the province of Aria, and, during ten years of solitude in
the
mountains, composed the Zend-Avesta."
"The
sun of knowledge stands once more at midday; and the serpent of
eternity
lies coiled in its light--: It is YOUR
time, ye midday brethren."