Re: Nietzsche, Kant, and modern art
Hello, I find a little hard to a person who is not used to read philosophy, to start these sort of readings. I started myself reading Kant, especially because he was one of the main influence on Clement Greenberg, but surely this is not what I could call "piece of cake". For starters is good a kind of help into philosophy. My teacher, who is a critic, and teachs esthetics and history of art to us has helped me with some terms and specific ideas. She recommended me to read Nietzche, Kant and Freud (Freud is not very into the topic). Another one I find quite interesting is Voltaire, who wrote very beautiful and "easy" stuff for starters.
> Well, Fox, first a caveat: I'm no Nietzsche expert, nor a student of
> philosophy. Merely an enthusiastic dilettante. So this is really a
> "man in the street" recommendation-- although I am not, like the
> man in the street, a c***, though I type excessively long posts.
> If you want the best introduction to Nietzsche's work, I recommend
> "The Portable Nietzsche" (Viking). Walter Kaufmann, pretty much
> the best Nietzsche scholar out there, translated the works in the volume,
> and it includes "Twilight of the Idols" and "Thus Spoke
> Zarathustra", among others. Virtually any of Nietzsche's books would
> be extraordinary to read, but TPN has many of them under one cover. If you
> want an individual work, then I recommend "Zarathustra", which
> is difficult but highly enjoyable.
> Along the lines of a general introduction to Nietzsche, there are probably
> several out there that might be very good, but there's one in particular
> that I would recommend, mainly because it contains so much else that is
> brilliant and insightful, and deals specifically with Nietzsche's (and
> German philosophy's) influence on America: "The Closing Of The
> American Mind" by Allan Bloom. It's nothing less than the most
> profound work of non-fiction I've ever read. As someone who is
> passionately interested in American democracy, Fox, I think you'd love the
> book. Since I read it two years ago I've purchased and given away about
> eight or nine copies to friends. Bloom was hailed as a kindred spirit by
> Right-wing conservatives when the book was a best-seller, in the late
> 1980s, but if you read it carefully you'll note that there are numerous
> critiques of the Right as well as the Left. Bloom himself was no
> Republican stoolie-- he was a dandy and a homosexual, as his good friend
> Saul Bellow recently told the world in the excellent
> "Ravelstein" (Bloom died of AIDS in 1992). At any rate, it has a
> wonderful thumbnail sketch of Nietzsche's ideas.
> The only advice I can give to a new Nietzsche reader is to read as much as
> you can, because you have to be able to put together a lot of different
> (and sometimes *seemingly* self-contradictory) ideas. In other words, if
> it isn't clear, or seems confusing, keep reading and eventually it will
> come around to a better picture; Nietzsche's philosophy is voluminous,
> varied and sometimes tongue-in-cheek. And don't forget to enjoy yourself:
> for all his verbal brutality, Nietzsche can be uproariously funny.
> You asked two questions. One, about Wagner. I am entirely unfamiliar with
> Wagner, except that, in relation to Nietzsche, the latter was at first an
> ardent supporter and then, famously, an ardent detractor. In fact, he
> wrote "Nietzsche contra Wagner" to outline his objections. As I
> have yet to read that, I can't say for sure what they were. However, it is
> clear that Nietzsche broke from Wagner in no uncertain terms and, as I
> explained in my earlier post, he was assuredly not an anti-Semite. So, if
> Wagner indeed bemoaned the Jewish influence on German music, I doubt that
> Nietzsche would have backed him up, or, if he did, he would have done so
> with serious qualifications.
> To reiterate something from my earlier post, Nietzsche's position on
> Judaism is not as clear as one would like, but it is pretty much
> universally accepted that he was *not* an anti-Semite. Casting it in
> modern terms, Fox, I'd say he was aggressively un-P.C. about it, but you
> kind of know where he stands. He likes arousing indignation in his
> audience in order to stir thought, a strategy adopted by that certain talk
> show host you like! And, if you read about the passionate individualism in
> "Zarathustra", you'll understand that there's simply no way he
> would have supported Hitler's Reich. Other than these generalizations, I
> can't offer much more information about Nietzsche and Wagner.
> Question number two is equally difficult to answer, but I will try. From
> my readings of Nietzsche, particularly passages in "Beyond Good and
> Evil", Nietzsche had a rather venomous hatred of Christianity, which
> he called a "slave's religion" because of, among other things,
> its insistence on guilt and sorrow as means of keeping social and cultural
> order. So, to the extent that Christianity is derived from Judaism, he
> despises it. Then again, it is also clear that he viewed the Jewish
> diaspora as an important "event" that ennobled the Jewish
> culture far beyond Christianity, and Moses he considered a great man-- a
> genius, a creator of values, and a prototype of his own Zarathustra.
> As you said, Nietzsche hated monotheism, but simply because he didn't
> believe in "a" God or "the" God-- he identified the
> importance (and mourned the modern obfuscation) of the religious impulse
> in men, but didn't privilege one interpretation or historically worshipped
> deity over another. Myths were important for him because men need myths,
> though not because the myths actually corresponded to any "real"
> deity or deities. Everyone knows Nietzsche said "God is dead"--
> but Nietzsche was making an observation, not voicing a wish (the second
> part of the sentence is "And we have killed him"). The murder
> had been committed earlier, by other hands. What he saw in God's absence
> was a gaping void, an abyss, and he attempted to create a philosophy that
> would fill that void. Western rationalism had killed God, and Nietzsche,
> while having no desire to resurrect Him, knew that people still needed
> Him, even if they professed otherwise.
> So, basically, you can say that, yes, Nietzsche did not like Judaism, but
> keep in mind that he loathed all religions (though he reserves a special
> bile duct for Christianity).
> For that reason, Nietzsche is not so palatable to those who still believe
> in the old religions. I don't know if you've said which religion you
> belong to, if any, but I know you are part Jewish. If you believe in God,
> you will disagree vehemently with Nietzsche. His philosophy, absorbed
> whole, is a recipe for the complete overthrow of everything you hold
> sacred. On the other hand, it is important-- as Bloom convincingly
> argues-- to understand Nietzsche and the role he plays, even to this day,
> in Western culture, be it directly or through the influence of his various
> descendants (Freud, Weber, Heidegger and others).
> I tend to read Nietzsche in the second light-- to grasp his importance and
> his influence, not necessarily because I believe it all (he is incredibly
> radical and his ideas are almost impossible to live by). How relevant is
> it? Well, you can see it in Morrissey, for instance-- and in pop music in
> general. The artifically constructed rock and roll god is a kind of
> Zarathustra, a blazing deity dancing over an abyss, handing down the new
> commandments. Have you seen "Velvet Goldmine" or even
> "Hedwig And The Angry Inch"? In various ways they play out some
> of the ideas in Nietzsche. You'll see his ghost in Lou Reed and David
> Bowie, too. And yeah, he's hiding in the run-out grooves of a certain
> batch of Rough Trade records.
> Of course, we don't associate rock and roll with Nietzsche, but that's the
> fascinating thing-- his influence is all around us, just disguised or
> palliated in some way. He is one of the key Western thinkers, and once you
> read his stuff and know what to look for, you'll see there's practically
> no end to his reach in Western culture (one point to make, apropos
> Morrissey, is that Nietzsche, a confirmed aesthete, has many interesting
> parallels to Oscar Wilde, who also argued, in less severe and less
> strenuous terms, for the ascendancy of the genius who would create values
> for society). Socrates and Nietzsche are, if you will, the Alpha and the
> Omega of Western thought-- two hugely influential philosophers at
> different ends of the spectrum.
> The difficult questions to answer are, what, exactly, are the impact and
> extent of Nietzsche's influence? And more importantly, is it a salutary
> influence? I haven't sussed out the answers myself, yet, but so far the
> search has been highly rewarding. Maddening, too: his legacy is
> intimidatingly ambiguous.
> I hope you'll read Nietzsche, Fox, because I think you'd cotton to him.
> Again, not necessarily because you'd swallow his quasi-religious
> philosophy, but because he had a voracious soul whose dominant passion was
> individualism. Interestingly, as it concerns the average Morrissey fan,
> his philosophy is both a strong vindication and explicit rebuke of
> Morrissey's art-- demonstrating, if nothing else, the dynamic vitality of
> the music.
> Awhile back I made a selection of some of my favorite quotes from
> "Thus Spoke Zarathustra", and I include them below. Perhaps they
> will intrigue you enough to buy some of his books.
> Take care.
> ==================================
> selections from "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" (1883-1884)
> Friedrich Nietzsche
> You look up when you feel the need for elevation. And I look down because
> I am elevated. Who among you can laugh and be elevated at the same time?
> Whoever climbs the highest mountains laughs at all tragic plays and tragic
> seriousness.
> Brave, unconcerned, mocking, violent-- thus wisdom wants us: she is a
> woman and always loves only a warrior.
> You say to me, "Life is hard to bear." But why would you have
> your pride in the morning and your resignation in the evening? Life is
> hard to bear; but do not act so tenderly! We are all of us fair beasts of
> burden, male and female asses. What do we have in common with the rosebud,
> which trembles because a drop of dew lies on it?
> True, we love life, not because we are used to living but because we are
> used to loving. There is always some madness in love. But there is also
> always some reason in madness.
> And to me too, as I am well disposed toward life, butterflies and soap
> bubbles and whatever among men is of their kind seem to know most about
> happiness. Seeing these light, foolish, delicate, mobile little souls
> flutter-- that seduces Zarathustra to tears and songs.
> I would believe only in a god who could dance. And when I saw my devil I
> found him serious, thorough, profound, and solemn: it was the spirit of
> gravity-- through him all things fall.
> Not by wrath does one kill but by laughter. Come, let us kill the spirit
> of gravity!
> I have learned to walk: ever since, I let myself run. I have learned to
> fly: ever since, I do not want to be pushed before moving along.
> Now I am light, now I fly, now I see myself beneath myself, now a god
> dances through me.
> Thus spoke Zarathustra.
> (First Part)
> ***
> When your heart flows broad and full like a river, a blessing and a danger
> to those living near: there is the origin of your virtue.
> When you are above praise and blame, and your will wants to command all
> things, like a lover's will: there is the origin of your virtue.
> When you despise the agreeable from the soft bed and cannot bed yourself
> far enough from the soft: there is the origin of your virtue.
> When you will with a single will and you call this cessation of all need
> "necessity": there is the origin of your virtue.
> Verily, a new good and evil is she. Verily, a new deep murmur and the
> voice of a new well!
> Power is she, this new virtue; a dominant thought is she, and around her a
> wise soul: a golden sun, and around it the serpent of knowledge.
> (First Part)
> ***
> ON THE SPIRIT OF GRAVITY
> 1
> My tongue is of the people: I speak too crudely and heartily for Angora
> rabbits. And my speech sounds even stranger to all ink-fish and pen-hacks.
> My hand is a fool's hand: beware, all tables and walls and whatever else
> still offer room for foolish frill or scribbling skill.
> My foot is a cloven foot; with it I trample and trot over sticks and
> stones, crisscross, and I am happy as the devil while running so fast.
> My stomach-- is it an eagle's stomach? For it likes lamb best of all.
> Certainly it is the stomach of some bird. Nourished on innocent things and
> on little, ready and impatient to fly, to fly off-- that happens to be my
> way: who could there not be something of the bird's way in that? And above
> all, I am an enemy of the spirit of gravity, that is the bird's way-- and
> verily, a sworn enemy, archenemy, primordial enemy. Oh, where has not my
> enmity flown and misflown in the past?
> Of that I could well sing a song-- and will sing it, although I am alone
> and in an empty house and must sing it to my own ears. There are other
> singers, of course, whose throats are made mellow, whose hands are made
> talkative, whose eyes are made expressive, whose hearts are awakened, only
> by a packed house. But I am not like those.
> 2
> He who will one day teach men to fly will have moved all boundary stones;
> the boundary stones themselves will fly up into the air before him, and he
> will rebaptize the earth-- "the light one".
> The ostrich runs faster than the fastest horse, but even he buries his
> head gravely in the grave earth; even so, the man who has not yet learned
> to fly. Earth and life seem grave to him; and thus the spirit of gravity
> wants it. But whoever would become light and a bird must love himself:
> thus I teach.
> Not, to be sure, with the love of the wilting and wasting: for among those
> even self-love stinks. One must learn to love oneself-- thus I teach--
> with a wholesome and healthy love, so that one can bear to be with oneself
> and need not roam. Such roaming baptizes itself "love of the
> neighbor": with this phrase the best lies and hypocrisies have been
> perpetrated so far, and especially by such as were a grave burden for all
> the world.
> And verily, this is no command for today and tomorrow, to learn to love
> oneself. Rather, it is of all arts the subtlest, the most cunning, the
> ultimate, and the most patient. For whatever is his own is well-concealed
> from the owner; and of all treasures, it is our own that we dig up last:
> thus the spirit of gravity orders it.
> We are presented with grave words and values almost from the cradle:
> "good" and "evil" this gift is called. For its sake we
> are forgiven for living.
> And therefore one suffers little children to come unto one-- in order to
> forbid them betimes to love themselves: thus the spirit of gravity orders
> it.
> And we-- we carry faithfully what one gives us to bear, on hard shoulders
> and over rough mountains. And should we sweat, we are told: "Yes,
> life is a grave burden." But only man is a grave burden for himself!
> That is because he carries on his shoulders too much that is alien to him.
> Like a camel, he kneels down and lets himself be well loaded. Especially
> the strong, reverent spirit that would bear much: he loads too many alien
> grave words and values on himself, and then life seems a desert to him.
> And verily, much that is our own is also a grave burden! And much that is
> inside man is like an oyster: nauseating and slippery and hard to grasp,
> so that a noble shell with a noble embellishment must plead for it. But
> this art too one must learn: to have a shell and shiny sheen and shrewd
> blindness. Moreover, one is deceived about many things in man because many
> a shell is shabby and sad and altogether too much shell. Much hidden
> graciousness and strength is never guessed; the most exquisite delicacies
> find no tasters. Women know this-- the most exquisite do: a little fatter,
> a little slimmer-- oh, how destiny lies in so little!
> Man is hard to discover-- hardest of all for himself: often the spirit
> lies about the soul. Thus the spirit of gravity orders it. He, however,
> has discovered himself who says, "This is my good and evil";
> with that he has reduced to silence the mole and dwarf who say, "Good
> for all, evil for all."
> Verily, I also do not like those who consider everything good and this
> world the best. Such men I call omni-satisfied. Omni-satisfaction, which
> knows how to taste everything, that is not the best taste. I honor the
> recalcitrant choosy tongues and stomachs, which have learned to say
> "I" and "yes" and "no". But to chew and
> digest everything-- that is truly the swine's manner. Always to bray
> Yea-Yuh-- that only the ass has learned, and whoever is of his spirit.
> Deep yellow and hot red: thus my taste wants it; it mixes blood into all
> colors. But whoever whitewashes his house betrays a whitewashed soul to
> me. Some in love with mummies, the others with ghosts, and both alike
> enemies of all flesh and blood-- oh, how both offend my taste. For I love
> blood.
> And I do not want to reside and abide where everybody spits and spews:
> that happens to be my taste; rather I would live among thieves and
> perjurers. Nobody has gold in his mouth. Still more revolting, however, I
> find all lickspittles; and the most revolting human animal that I found I
> baptized "parasite": it did not want to love and yet it wanted
> to live on love.
> Cursed I call all who have only one choice: to become evil beasts or evil
> tamers of beasts; among such men I would not build my home.
> Cursed I call those too who must always wait; they offend my taste: all
> the publicans and shopkeepers and kings and other land- and storekeepers.
> Verily, I too have learned to wait-- thoroughly-- but only to wait for
> myself. And above all I learned to stand and walk and run and jump and
> climb and dance. This, however, is my doctrine: he who would learn to fly
> one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance:
> one cannot fly into flying. With rope ladders I have learned to climb to
> many a window; with swift legs I climbed high masts; and to sit on high
> masts of knowledge seemed to me no small happiness: to flicker like small
> flames on high masts-- a small light only and yet a great comfort for
> shipwrecked sailors and castaways.
> By many ways, in many ways, I reached my truth: it was not one ladder that
> I climbed to the height where my eye roams over my distance. And it was
> only reluctantly that I ever inquired about the way: that always offended
> my taste. I preferred to question and try out the ways themselves.
> A trying and questioning was my every move; and verily, one must also
> learn to answer such questioning. That, however, is my taste-- not good,
> not bad, but my taste of which I am no longer ashamed and which I have no
> wish to hide.
> "This is my way; where is yours?"-- thus I answered those who
> asked me "the way." For the way-- that does not exist.
> Thus spoke Zarathustra.
> (Third Part)
> ***
> And this is the second point: he who cannot obey himself is commanded.
> That is the nature of the living.
> …
> And life itself confided this secret to me: "Behold," it said,
> "I am that which must always overcome itself. Indeed, you call it a
> will to procreate or a drive to an end, to something higher, farther, more
> manifold: but all this is one, and one secret.
> "Rather would I perish than forswear this; and verily, where there is
> perishing and a falling of leaves, behold, there life sacrifices itself--
> for power. That I must be struggle and a becoming and an end and an
> opposition to ends-- alas, whoever guesses what is my will should also
> guess on what crooked paths it must proceed.
> "Whatever I create and however much I love it-- soon I must oppose it
> and my love; thus my will wills it. …"
> …
> And may everything be broken that cannot brook our truths! There are yet
> many houses to be built!
> Thus spoke Zarathustra
> (Second Part)
> ***
> Night has come: alas, that I must be light! And thirst for the nocturnal!
> And loneliness!
> Night has come: now my craving breaks out of me like a well; to speak I
> crave.
> Night has come; now all fountains speak more loudly. And my soul too is a
> fountain.
> Night has come; now all the songs of lovers awaken. And my soul too is the
> song of a lover.
> Thus sang Zarathustra.
> (Second Part)
