There were
isolated
readers who sensed that something promising was at work in this little book, but,
its immediate effect was to make its author appear to be as far his profession was ?
its immediate effect was to make its author appear to be as far his profession was ?
Peter-Sloterdijk-Thinker-on-Stage
at the age of twen- ty-five and without having published anything previously, Nietzsche was offered the chair in classical philology at the University of Basel solely on the basis of the recommendation of his teacher (Friedrich ?
the so-called pope of the Leip- ziger philologists) and thanks to a generously unbureaucratic gesture on the part of the In his letter of ?
Ritschl evaluated his candi- date as follows:
Never yet have I known a young man, or tried to help one along in my field as best I could, who was so mature as early and as young as this lives long ? I prophesy that
he will one day stand in the front rank of German philology. He is the idol and, without wishing it, the leader of the whole younger generation of philologists here in Leipzig, who ? ? ? cannot wait to hear him as a lecturer. You will say, I describe a phenomenon. Well, that is just what he is ? at the same time pleasant and modest. Also a gifted musician, which is irrelevant
Ritschl was mistaken on the last ? musical nature had more to do with his existence as a philologist than his teacher was willing to admit in this moving and yet descriptive recommendation for the outsider without
What Ritschl characterized as "irrelevant" within the context of the procedure for making the appointment proved immediately to be the one element essential to Nietzsche's existence in ? Ritschl had instinctively understood that Nietz-
work within the young philologist must be included here, as must be the pulsiveness and urgent drive toward self-expression that made his life ambitious and ? pregnant with ambition. Here we must also include the desire to be heard contained in his prophetic and reform-minded voices, behind which -- without engaging in evasive diagnosis or obtrusive psychologiz-
can hear the voice of Karl Ludwig ? the father he idealized, a Protestant minister who died young and whom he ? Of ? the general elements in Nietzsche's case could be trivialized under the heading "The Rectory Releases Its ? or, " I f We Wake Up to Find That We Have Been Too
In any case, music was already very much present in the first scholarly at- tempts of the newly appointed professor. His encounter with Wagner loosened the tongue of the scholar of letters; the musician began to perform through the in- strument of philology. What this overgifted scholar had appropriated from Scho- penhauer, Wagner, and the Greeks was this precise sensitivity to the modern res-
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? but he did not understand what was at the core of musical and theoretical double nature. By "mu- I do not mean only that he composed and played music in the narrower sense; rather, the whole troubled mass of what was grandiose and inexpressible at
sche was a that
? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE ? 9
onances of antiquity, to the metaphysical content of ? and to the tragic greatness of the outsider. ? in the first literary undertaking by the phenom- enal scholar, all of these motifs sounded together for the first time in a great rhe-
? torical own
His centauric talent was in the process of discovering its better put, its own
? ? Nietzsche's ? debut as brilliant as it was ? place under these auspices in the winter of ? Its brilliance has become part of cultural history, as we are reminded in editions of his ? Its catastrophic el- ement was to a great extent due to the fact that Nietzsche's vision of the birth of Greek tragedy contained more than the most well-meaning readers could have expected from ? more than the author himself dared to realize at that stage in his development. The famous ? preface of 1886 sheds some light on the reason for ? and at the same time conceals it, because the later Nietzsche no longer wanted to acknowledge the ? though less
elements in his earlier work. Its brilliance as a stylistic achievement notwith- standing, this "Self-Criticism" is a hypocritical one because, in it, the truth of the earlier ? insight into primordial pain ? stifled by the "truth" of his later work (the thesis on the will to ? This will remind us almost unavoidably of the analogous development in Freud, who sacrificed the truth of his earlier theory of seduction to the later "truth" of the theory of instinct.
Given the ? a test of Nietzsche's talents was certainly appropri- ate. Nothing was more understandable than the author's need to prove that his appointment over better-qualified applicants not only reflected a fairy-tale privi- lege but was also objectively justified by the genuine superiority of the extraor- dinary scholar and thinker. What was called for, then, was
proof of his superiority, the corroboration of an academic rank that had been too easily won. He wanted more could do more. At his first opportunity to dazzle the general reading he immediately extended the oppressive excess of his vision beyond what was demanded by his subject.
That he did this is still baffling a hundred years after the fact. Who was really interested in the details of how Greek tragedy might have developed? Who, except for a few philologists of antiquity who were not interested in much would get excited about ancient he-goat choruses and the conjectured states of the souls of Attic theatergoers during Dionysian performances? Nietzsche must be credited for the fact that such obdurate lay questions no longer have to be se- riously posed today. Because of his genial intervention, which intended in part to inspire philology and in part to force it to extend beyond itself, he made sure that the philosophical and psychological concerns of humanity could develop from
of the specialized concerns of philology ? one can use the term "hu- within the context of current discourse without
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 10 ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
It has often been remarked that Nietzsche's first book was, at bottom, simply a long conversation with Richard ? wooing of his fatherly friend and an ecstatic projection of himself into Wagner's heroic, immortalized dominion of art. Indeed, it is impossible to imagine The Birth of Tragedy without Wagner's
with the ominous pairing of the gods Apollo and with whom Wagner had already been operating pro ? and then continuing from the critique of the classical opera to the idea of a new German renaissance under the sign of a Wagnerian art of ? Nietzsche once made the coquettish observation that Wagner could have written the book better himself. And yet, understanding what influenced it does not grasp the phenom- enon that came to fruition in The Birth of Tragedy. You can add together the the Schopenhauerian metaphysics, and the elements from classi-
cal philology any which way you ? and never come up with Nietzsche's
For whatever the combination of sources and prototypes, the decisive element in it was the ? birth, that is, the setting loose of an infinitely consequential artistic and philosophical double-natured eloquence within which Nietzsche's powers were bound together effectively for the first ? Only someone who has long since left his imagined audience behind him can write like this
who is no longer concerned with whether his actual audience will understand him. This would explain Nietzsche's somnambulistic self-assuredness in commit- ting such a professional faux pas. In spite of his esoteric bravado, he was preach- ing to the ? which were inhabited by his great kindred ? and woe to those who were not comfortable at those ? "God have mercy on my phi- lologists if they don't want to learn ? wrote Nietzsche in the letter that accompanied the edition dedicated to Wagner in January of
It was to be expected that the word "megalomania" would sooner or later be used in reaction to such high-blown mannerisms ? Ritschl was the first to use it. In contrast to this, Wagner reacted enthusiastically. According to Wagner, the maestro wept with joy when he read the young professor's book. This is not hard to believe if we remind ourselves that Wagner was merely read- ing the mirror image of his own thoughts in Nietzsche's words, and did not stop to consider that this kind of mirroring might also represent a provocation from a different sort of confident awareness of ? There can be no doubt that Nietz- sche himself thought this and that he was attempting to understand his own de- velopment from the perspective of the dialectic of the divestment and finding of the self; in honoring the other man, he recognized an essential component in the process of liberating ? Shortly after the publication of The Birth of Trag- edy, Nietzsche expressed his obstinate opposition to total absorption in the cult of Wagner through an essay on the theory of competition in antiquity:
That is the core of the Hellenic notion of the contest: it abominates the rule of one and fears its dangers; it desires, as a protection against the
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
genius, another genius. Every talent must unfold itself in fighting: that is the command of Hellenic popular
"cult of genius" ? its curious and offensive aspects notwith- standing, will take on added significance with respect to psychology in our fur- ther deliberations. During Nietzsche's time, any engendering of centaurs was possible only within the context of a genial, artistic, "everything-is-permitted"
which later gave birth to these ? these doubly destructive images from art and theory, stimulating fusions of the fundamental and the accidental. Even in ? ? he had accepted the position at Basel and had, under the liberating influence of Wagner, made his first rhetorical attempts at a philology inspired by the spirit of ? was able to express a presentiment of
literary tendencies. He wrote at this time to Erwin Rohde:
Scholarship, art, and philosophy are growing together inside me to such an extent that one day I'm bound to give birth to
Only from behind the pretense of the cult of genius was Nietzsche able to defend himself publicly from his profession's demands that he limit his self-ex- pression to topics that were customary within the profession, and that he deal privately with the so-called existential remainder. The genial mannerisms of the author can therefore be understood as indications of an understandable lack of willingness and as manifestations of an endearing incapacity -- the unwillingness to mutilate himself academically, and the inability to be the sort of scholar who is interested in nothing outside of his own narrow specialization.
Now, it would seem as obvious as it would be misleading to understand Nietzsche's literary centaurs within the context of the essay ? and to thereby dismiss the drama of civilization that is hidden behind a reduction to genre def- inition by means of a prescribed phraseology, however generous it may be. The term "essay" itself has a cockeyed ring to it: it sounds almost like a plea for leniency in the face of insufficient intellectual ? Its open form, its laxity in constructing an argument, the rhetorical liberties it takes, and the "vacation" it allows one from the task of having to provide evidence to support one's conclu-
of this would point to mitigating circumstances. We are usually only able to associate such laxity with regression, and such liberties with a lapse. To the extent that the same types of tension-release mechanisms must coexist along- side a stringent ? the intellect that is dominated by professional- ism and seriousness must concede the existence of a proviso that it calls "the
one does not have to be so particular.
But this is not at all true in Nietzsche's writing. When he lets himself go, the level of quality increases; when he opens the floodgates of his mind, the claims he makes are radicalized. And when he follows his whims, his discipline be-
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
comes more than it was. For this reason, Nietzsche's centaurs consistently take the wrong ? -- and thereby proceed
The problem that begins to make itself apparent here is so extensive that it would seem justifiable to attempt to reformulate it. Might it not be true that, within the framework of an integrated existence (whatever that might knowl- edge of the world and self-expression belong close in any case, than they are usually found to be under modern-day conditions? Has not the di- vision of the labor of talent that characterizes our times led to the tendential op- position of the psychic attitudes that capacitate scientifically oriented knowledge to the expression of the self, while those that accommodate self-expression betray a propensity that is hostile to knowledge? Are not the cults of science and aesthetics the prototypical "complementary idiots" of modernity? And, under such ? must not the relationship between a cognitive modernity, as has been organized within the scope of science and technology, and an aesthetic mo- dernity, as has been established within the arts today, be strained to the breaking point? Should we not instead perhaps simply speak of a relationship that is openly hostile?
If the situation is indeed as these questions imply, what are the ramifications for an individual ? contrary to the spirit of his ? still believes in the Goe- thean idea of a double intellect, which is simultaneously artistic and scientific? What happens to those naive, intense individuals who, from the start, have not understood that the modern promises of totality are nothing less than a swindle, pure and simple? How are those enthusiastic temperaments who are not quite up to the current standards for cynicism and intellectual dismemberment supposed to manage? With reference to the author of The Birth of Tragedy, I ask, Did the young Nietzsche drink his fill of Pfortenser humanism, the Schopenhauerian pathos of asceticism, and the Wagnerian cult of genius so that, in his own pro- fessional and journalistic endeavors, he could submit to the demands of the di- vision of intellectual labor and allow himself to be restricted by the political tac- tics expected by his profession? "The whole man must move at ? Nietzsche could have chosen this adage from Addison, which Lichtenberg had once re- corded approvingly in his notebook, as his own ? Man must express himself as a whole self.
Perhaps Nietzsche's acute penetration into current intellectual sensibilities can be attributed to the fact that he reminds us of an unrelinquished dream of moder- nity: he succeeded, albeit at a high price, in being an artist as scholar-scientist and a scholar-scientist as artist. What we find so fascinating in this today is not the audacity of this solution but rather its obviousness. And yet, with his effort- lessly effective double-natured observations as a scholarly-scientific aesthetician and an aesthetic scholar-scientist, he found himself caught in the position of rep- resenting an unclassifiable curiosity, which is at home nowhere because it could belong anywhere. From this eccentric position, Nietzsche called attention to
? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
what was a cultural and psychological scandal and an aberration of perceptions: the fact that what is obvious to any impartial intelligence is marveled at as rep- resenting something exceptional, and that what could not but spontaneously result from a healthy aversion to constriction was either celebrated or berated as exceeding a limit. In light of we can remove Nietzsche's obsession with genius from his successors without What at one time could perhaps be accomplished only through the aristocratic pose of the cult of genius comes off today by way of an imperturbable lack of respect for ? In the meantime, we no longer need even a superclever theory of deprofessionalization in order to resist scientogenous "specialists" and the nonintellectual ? of the di- vision of intellectual labor. Resistance of this sort does not require any sort of expertise: of what use is Critical Theory if vigilance is enough?
But it ? an outstanding way ? literary virtue. In order to be able to con- sider the current deficiencies in critical theories as a loss we can easily ? we must perhaps simply cease to conceive of literature as a separate aesthetic world that, because of its specific characteristics ? has become a spe- cialty in itself and, with this, merely a new pigeonhole. Perhaps literature is simply, in the broadest ? the universal element within the centauric phenom- enon. It would in that case be the lingua franca for free spirits, for those who cross the borders between spheres that shift away from each other, and for de- fenders of coherence. There have been sufficient indications for a long time now that this true. Always, whenever authors inspire a dual perspective through their own ? there comes into play the literary general eloquence of in- telligent minds who seem to see the only value in limits as lying in the fact that these limits afford us the opportunity to exceed them. From E. T. A. Hoffmann to Sigmund Freud, from S0ren Kierkegaard to Theodor ? ? from Novalis to Robert from ? Heine to Alexander ? from Paul ? to Octavio ? from Bertolt Brecht to Michel Foucault, and from Walter Benjamin to Roland Barthes ? each instance, the most communicative minds have pre- sented themselves as temperaments and variations of the centauric genius.
Whatever is at stake in The Birth of Tragedy, the appearance of this archetypal centauric writing took place within a conspicuous cultural vacuum and was met by an astonishing silence on the part of the ? According to them, the book was merely a private incident, a footnote to the Wagner cult.
There were isolated readers who sensed that something promising was at work in this little book, but,
its immediate effect was to make its author appear to be as far his profession was ? in the words of Professor of Bonn. But even those who sensed in this dense, moving opusculum the element that was in potential for the future would have been hard pressed to comment on what was about. Only later, when Zarathustra had won Nietzsche worldwide stature,
did what he intimated become clear. Nietzsche had constructed for himself a
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 14 ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
stage upon which more than a Bayreuth renaissance was to be played out. It was a stage for exceptional disclosures, for cultural reevaluations of the most menacing sort, and for an unheard-of breakthrough into humanism by psychody-
The ? philologist, who those around him expected would (de- voted as he was to antiquity) carry on the cult of individuality of Weimar and Greece, raised the curtain on a stage upon which the bourgeois individual had to abandon himself to the most dangerous and at the same time most probable dis- illusionment. Suddenly, Greek antiquity was no longer a faithful mirror for hu- manistic ? nor a guarantee for reasonable moderation and proper bourgeois serenity. In one stroke, the autonomy of the classical subject was done away with. From above and from below, from the numinous and the animal realms, impersonal powers broke into the standardized form of the personality and turned it into a tumbling mat for dark and violent energies, an instrument of anonymous universal forces. Although, within the history of bourgeois culture, enthusiasm for Greece had consistently functioned as a key component in the makeup of the individual (with classical philology as the institutional support mechanism for the humanistic cult of personality), the most disquieting subver- sion of modern belief in the autonomy of the subject now arose from this, the most established of all disciplines.
Little wonder, then, that his colleagues anxiously restrained themselves. Only one man made the leap from embarrassment to outrage, restylizing and trans- forming his unwillingness to understand into a condescending
attitude. This was Ulrich von ? a doctoral candidate with the glib tongue of a professor who defended his academic inheritance before he had mastered it. Actually, he later made his career within the framework of the values he had attempted to protect from Nietzsche's subversion. The term "phi- lology of the ? which ? had coined to use against Nietzsche's book (a contemptuous reference to the Wagnerian "art of the future"), was a term of derision that became a prophecy ? not, to be sure, in the sense that Nietzsche's essay would point the way for the future study of classical languages and cultures. This term of mockery became true enough in the inversion of its meaning. Philological studies did not become more vital; rather, what was vital became more informed by philology. Through Nietzsche, a philology of the future was generated that, in an unprecedented manner, inquired into the corre- spondences between existence and language.
? ? ? ? Chapter 2
The Philology of Existence, the Dramaturgy of Force
not hurt vanity the mother of all tragedies? All the vain
are good actors: they act and they want people to
at them; all their spirit is behind this will. They enact themselves; near them I love to look at life: that cures my melancholy.
Thus Spoke Zarathustra,
"On Human Prudence"
It is characteristic of one type of important aesthetic theory that it never discusses a phenomenon without incorporating some element of what is being discussed into the discourse itself. The Birth ? Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music is not only a manifesto on the polarity between the Apollonian and Dionysian artistic
but is itself the result of the interplay of energies that are both raging and resis- tant, intoxicating and precise. It does not concern itself merely with the
rence of the Dionysian religion of art in antiquity, but instead directs itself toward a verbal passion play based on old and new heroes with neoreligious gestures ecstasy. It not only addresses the origins of tragedy in universal human
as it is manifested in ? but also presents itself as a rhetorical
which opinions that are too severe to be heard without producing despair can be voiced from beneath a toned-down veil of well-formed sentences and attestations of
Because it is a discourse on art that is nearly art itself, Nietzsche's early work has become a model for much of what has been brought forth since then in the field of aesthetic theory. It is a discourse in which subjects who have been
in science remind themselves of their ? existence. Under the pretext of a theory of antiquity, Nietzsche the philologist here devoted his attention to his
and to the passions of the present. At the
aesthetics ? ? a new art ? ? For what, if not the manifestation of his own ? can be at issue when an author ex- tends himself (with a reckless sense of superiority) beyond historical facts in order to outline a new image of Hellenic culture and its tragic psychospiritual
? ? ? ? ? looking
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 15
? ? 16 THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE
foundation image that exhibits traces of late romanticism and manifests ? fin de ? pathos, as though it were nothing more than a matter of translating Greek mythology into the metaphysics of bourgeois pessimism, and the suffering of the heroes of antiquity into modern-day gestures of inner discord? W ithin this context, however, the historical accuracy of the representation is less important than the ? the ? ? On the path toward his inquiry into the ? ? ? stumbles upon traces of antiquity that can no longer be dealt with in philological terms. Similar to the way in which Schlie-
exhumed the true dreams of his childhood from the ruins of hills that had been buried for millennia, Nietzsche brought to light, in the course of his philo- logical ? a layer of tableaux that had been, so to ? buried alive, the truth content of which was older and more acerbic than that of self-confident research into antiquity and modern-day manifestations of individualism. It is, in both ? a matter of becoming valuable ? in an almost psychoar- chaeological sense. The singing he-goats who scream over the stage in Nietz- sche's hallucinatory vision of antiquity are less ancient satyrs in a state of orgias- tic ecstasy than exemplary modern subjects with their accursed good breeding and their cultural discontent.
Is it even possible here to persist in speaking of modern subjects? Is not the end result of Nietzsche's excavations into our cultural ? precisely the mining of the new subject by the forces inherent in the old drama? Indeed, is it not, to a lesser extent, an undermining or subversion of the subject in a psycho- analytic sense, and much more an ontological derealizing ? an inundation by impersonal ? and the reduction of the subject to an effect of antagonistic forces and the conflicting "artistic instincts of nature"? The ego -- and with it, its constitutive dream of autonomy -- would thus represent merely the irreal seam at which the ? of
delight in vision ? ? In the light of speculation of this kind, subjectivity (Subjekthaftigkeit) appears as the epiphenomenon within the inter- play between the great subjectless cosmic ? as an elusive interspace be- tween the tendencies toward self-preservation and self-annihilation that exist within a cruelly exuberant and unintentional natural
The question arises as to what manner of philology this must be to acknowl- edge no fear when it questions the most sacred tenet of modernity, the moral dogma of the autonomy of the subject. When Nietzsche claims for himself the right to formulate a theory of the drama that then expands into a protohistory of subjectivity, he has ostentatiously placed himself upon a podium that no longer resembles his academic lectern and can no longer be considered a fundamental component of his role as a bourgeois
But what kind of stage is it to which the philologist of the future ascends? Its cultural status was, in Nietzsche's time, anything but unequivocal, and has re- mained so to this day. This question cannot be answered even in terms of a quick
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE ? 17
with depth psychology and ? because these are merely descriptively positive titles for something that radically defies clear definition, something that is evasive and negative. In any case, it would appear to be a stage upon which modern individuals act out a drama that ? risking a falsely pos- itive nomenclature) could be characterized as their search for self. Elevated to such a stage, theory becomes ? porous, and is permeated with the most powerfully instinctual existential tensions of those who do their thinking upon it. Thus even philology, initially so well behaved, can become adventurous. Within this context, theory is no longer a discursive mechanism that is served and reconstructed by the functionaries of thought, but instead represents a stage upon which life is transformed into an "experiment on the part of the
He who steps out upon this stage wants to distinguish himself in a specific intention is to betray himself. But he wants to so do in order to force the dilemma, whose mask he feels himself to be, into plain view to the point at which it will betray itself. A mode of thought that has been existentially blown open in this way intends no affront toward so-called serious research, even if the its incurable ? ? understands it as such. Rather, its in- tention is to replenish the vital essence of this research. He who permits himself to think in this way does so not to get away with accomplishing less but to risk He who takes the stage as a thinker and takes a chance as a spokesman for an experimental existence must, from that point onward, assume an all-encom- passing responsibility for the immediate and the indirect truth-value of his per- formance. At the same time, he has earned the right to have everything that he brings forward used against him "before the ? him, and, at the same time, in his defense ? this right means a great deal to anyone who has placed himself, by way of a radical self-sacrifice, beyond the shallow position of
being simply either "for or
"Before the would indicate a second stage, upon which the ad- venturer of theory and the hero of thought no longer figures personally, but upon which, instead, his critics, his fans, and all those who, because of their openness to his suggestions, feel they have earned the right to hold the ground-breaking thinker accountable for his ? The extremely specific relationship be- tween Nietzsche's writing and both his contemporary public and posterity can best be characterized through the image of the dual stage ? upon which the thinker exposes and implicates himself, and the other upon which those who agree with him and follow his thought test the applicability of the protagonist's truths to their own lives.
If a dramatized reflection is really an "experiment on the part of the per- then the ? gained from this experimental arrangement must at- tract attention as the self-realizations of the thinker, while his mistakes are rec- ognized as his personal failings. Thinking on stage is more likely to generate truth by following the archaic models of the wager or divine judgment than
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 18 ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE
through the modern schematic of discursive inference from principles. In accor- dance with a totally apothecary concept of truth
what appears here as truth is not what has been proved to be theoretically the most but rather what best proves itself within the context of a suc- cessful ? Whenever the thinker brings the truth about himself to light upon the stage, he reveals himself, eo ipso, in the process of becoming what he is. If he does not do so, he exposes the truth about himself and his hypothesis in that, like the heroes of antiquity, he succumbs to his dilemma and runs aground on his own inability to understand himself.
Whatever one thinks of Nietzsche, he must impress even his detractors in one respect, since, in his willingness to risk intellectual truths, he was the most au- dacious thinker of the new era. He paid the price for the danger inherent in his thinking to a degree unparalleled by almost anyone else. In his program for the stage, which was intended to lend him credibility as the new Dionysian hero, he ultimately proved himself to be above all else a hero of his own times, a hero of
Posing and reflecting upon an open stage, he submitted himself to the laws of an unrelenting self-exposure. In his attempt to become what he was, he implicated himself in the most tortuous of comedies -- so as to become what he was not: a hero, a superhuman, a "Superman" ? The greatest dis- covery made in his heroic search for truth was therefore an unintentional one: he brought to light the truth about heroism as representing the continuation of a fun- damental
The first victim of Nietzsche's debut on the stage of truth was his standing within his own profession. One ? ? ? be ? was common practice within the field of classical philology and its critical methodology, which, with its conjecturing and ? was part renunciatory and part subordinate, before one can appreciate the grotesque gap between Nietzsche's attempt to push forward and what was customary within the field. What Nietzsche carried out was not a mere switch to a different specialization, a transfer from philology to philosophy; what he accomplished was nothing less than academic suicide. From this point forward, Nietzsche no longer addresses antiquity as a classical scholar. Whenever he does call upon the ancients, it is as a modern mystagogue and leader of orgies who always speaks from a perspective of inner simultaneity with the early Greek mysteries. Dionysus, Apollo, Ariadne, the Sphinx, the Minotaur,
that point on, these are simply mythological names for contem- porary forces and allegories for acute sensations of pain. Modernity is thus no longer merely a name given to a volcanic process of repulsion on the part of an undetermined present in the face of its own prehistory (Vorzeit); for Nietzsche, it becomes concurrently the almost accidental point of departure for the rediscov- ery of the basic truths of Greece. (As is the intellectual custom, Sigmund Freud proved himself a generation later to be the truest of Nietzsche's indirect students
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE ? 19
in that he also attempted to formulate his psychological opinions in the language of a time-obliterating modern mythology. )
But how is an "actualism" (Aktualismus) of this sort possible? How can a modern individual, contrary to all the rules of historical consciousness, want to place himself into a position of contemporaneousness with concepts that are so temporally and culturally far removed? What right does a modern thinker extinguish an interval of two thousand five hundred years so that he can about the drama of the ancient Greeks as though he were discussing an
personal experience? Two observations on Nietzsche's way of positioning himself on the stage of thought can provide us with answers to these questions.
First, even before he had voiced a single word upon the stage, Nietzsche was made ripe for it by his decision before the fact to present "something great" on the subject of the Greeks. What has been described here as his characteristic "cult of genius" refers not only to a psychic disposition on his part but also to a preliminary methodological decision on what his relationship with the historical material would be. As Faust called upon the spirit of the earth (Erdgeist), so Nietzsche calls upon the spirit of genius in early Greece to answer the question, How does one mind speak to another? And he himself provides the answer. The Greek world discusses its most puzzling mysteries to its greatest advantage with a certain professor in Basel who, because he is on scandalously intimate terms with Lady Antiquity, will one day be a former and ridiculed professor. Nietz- sche's radical "actualism" is therefore an expression of his "cult of genius" a-vis early Greek thought and poetry. The cult of genius, however, is to a sub- stantial degree one of concurrent genius ? ? and consequently it results in the conviction that anything exceptional can be understood only by its
that ? greatness can be recognized only by an equal ? depth by an equal degree of ? suffering by an equal suffering, and the heroic through an equal heroism. Nietzsche's concept of concurrent genius in any case forced the issue to such an extent that it conceived of the intellectual history of Europe as representing merely a spiritual migration on the part of the great intellects, whose path had led from Homer and Heraclitus to Kant and Schopenhauer and, through them, to Wagner and Nietzsche ? migration that always took place, of course, at the lonely heights where, aside from these thinkers, only eagles could survive.
The second prerequisite for Nietzsche's actualistic conjuring up of Hellenism lies in his historical-philosophical claims. Whenever Nietzsche takes the stage as prophetic Greek scholar, he is wearing not only the mask of the genial hero of thought but also that of a philosopher of history or, more correctly, a mythologist of history. Equipped with its powers of authority, he condenses the past two thou-
sand five hundred years ?
Never yet have I known a young man, or tried to help one along in my field as best I could, who was so mature as early and as young as this lives long ? I prophesy that
he will one day stand in the front rank of German philology. He is the idol and, without wishing it, the leader of the whole younger generation of philologists here in Leipzig, who ? ? ? cannot wait to hear him as a lecturer. You will say, I describe a phenomenon. Well, that is just what he is ? at the same time pleasant and modest. Also a gifted musician, which is irrelevant
Ritschl was mistaken on the last ? musical nature had more to do with his existence as a philologist than his teacher was willing to admit in this moving and yet descriptive recommendation for the outsider without
What Ritschl characterized as "irrelevant" within the context of the procedure for making the appointment proved immediately to be the one element essential to Nietzsche's existence in ? Ritschl had instinctively understood that Nietz-
work within the young philologist must be included here, as must be the pulsiveness and urgent drive toward self-expression that made his life ambitious and ? pregnant with ambition. Here we must also include the desire to be heard contained in his prophetic and reform-minded voices, behind which -- without engaging in evasive diagnosis or obtrusive psychologiz-
can hear the voice of Karl Ludwig ? the father he idealized, a Protestant minister who died young and whom he ? Of ? the general elements in Nietzsche's case could be trivialized under the heading "The Rectory Releases Its ? or, " I f We Wake Up to Find That We Have Been Too
In any case, music was already very much present in the first scholarly at- tempts of the newly appointed professor. His encounter with Wagner loosened the tongue of the scholar of letters; the musician began to perform through the in- strument of philology. What this overgifted scholar had appropriated from Scho- penhauer, Wagner, and the Greeks was this precise sensitivity to the modern res-
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? but he did not understand what was at the core of musical and theoretical double nature. By "mu- I do not mean only that he composed and played music in the narrower sense; rather, the whole troubled mass of what was grandiose and inexpressible at
sche was a that
? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE ? 9
onances of antiquity, to the metaphysical content of ? and to the tragic greatness of the outsider. ? in the first literary undertaking by the phenom- enal scholar, all of these motifs sounded together for the first time in a great rhe-
? torical own
His centauric talent was in the process of discovering its better put, its own
? ? Nietzsche's ? debut as brilliant as it was ? place under these auspices in the winter of ? Its brilliance has become part of cultural history, as we are reminded in editions of his ? Its catastrophic el- ement was to a great extent due to the fact that Nietzsche's vision of the birth of Greek tragedy contained more than the most well-meaning readers could have expected from ? more than the author himself dared to realize at that stage in his development. The famous ? preface of 1886 sheds some light on the reason for ? and at the same time conceals it, because the later Nietzsche no longer wanted to acknowledge the ? though less
elements in his earlier work. Its brilliance as a stylistic achievement notwith- standing, this "Self-Criticism" is a hypocritical one because, in it, the truth of the earlier ? insight into primordial pain ? stifled by the "truth" of his later work (the thesis on the will to ? This will remind us almost unavoidably of the analogous development in Freud, who sacrificed the truth of his earlier theory of seduction to the later "truth" of the theory of instinct.
Given the ? a test of Nietzsche's talents was certainly appropri- ate. Nothing was more understandable than the author's need to prove that his appointment over better-qualified applicants not only reflected a fairy-tale privi- lege but was also objectively justified by the genuine superiority of the extraor- dinary scholar and thinker. What was called for, then, was
proof of his superiority, the corroboration of an academic rank that had been too easily won. He wanted more could do more. At his first opportunity to dazzle the general reading he immediately extended the oppressive excess of his vision beyond what was demanded by his subject.
That he did this is still baffling a hundred years after the fact. Who was really interested in the details of how Greek tragedy might have developed? Who, except for a few philologists of antiquity who were not interested in much would get excited about ancient he-goat choruses and the conjectured states of the souls of Attic theatergoers during Dionysian performances? Nietzsche must be credited for the fact that such obdurate lay questions no longer have to be se- riously posed today. Because of his genial intervention, which intended in part to inspire philology and in part to force it to extend beyond itself, he made sure that the philosophical and psychological concerns of humanity could develop from
of the specialized concerns of philology ? one can use the term "hu- within the context of current discourse without
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 10 ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
It has often been remarked that Nietzsche's first book was, at bottom, simply a long conversation with Richard ? wooing of his fatherly friend and an ecstatic projection of himself into Wagner's heroic, immortalized dominion of art. Indeed, it is impossible to imagine The Birth of Tragedy without Wagner's
with the ominous pairing of the gods Apollo and with whom Wagner had already been operating pro ? and then continuing from the critique of the classical opera to the idea of a new German renaissance under the sign of a Wagnerian art of ? Nietzsche once made the coquettish observation that Wagner could have written the book better himself. And yet, understanding what influenced it does not grasp the phenom- enon that came to fruition in The Birth of Tragedy. You can add together the the Schopenhauerian metaphysics, and the elements from classi-
cal philology any which way you ? and never come up with Nietzsche's
For whatever the combination of sources and prototypes, the decisive element in it was the ? birth, that is, the setting loose of an infinitely consequential artistic and philosophical double-natured eloquence within which Nietzsche's powers were bound together effectively for the first ? Only someone who has long since left his imagined audience behind him can write like this
who is no longer concerned with whether his actual audience will understand him. This would explain Nietzsche's somnambulistic self-assuredness in commit- ting such a professional faux pas. In spite of his esoteric bravado, he was preach- ing to the ? which were inhabited by his great kindred ? and woe to those who were not comfortable at those ? "God have mercy on my phi- lologists if they don't want to learn ? wrote Nietzsche in the letter that accompanied the edition dedicated to Wagner in January of
It was to be expected that the word "megalomania" would sooner or later be used in reaction to such high-blown mannerisms ? Ritschl was the first to use it. In contrast to this, Wagner reacted enthusiastically. According to Wagner, the maestro wept with joy when he read the young professor's book. This is not hard to believe if we remind ourselves that Wagner was merely read- ing the mirror image of his own thoughts in Nietzsche's words, and did not stop to consider that this kind of mirroring might also represent a provocation from a different sort of confident awareness of ? There can be no doubt that Nietz- sche himself thought this and that he was attempting to understand his own de- velopment from the perspective of the dialectic of the divestment and finding of the self; in honoring the other man, he recognized an essential component in the process of liberating ? Shortly after the publication of The Birth of Trag- edy, Nietzsche expressed his obstinate opposition to total absorption in the cult of Wagner through an essay on the theory of competition in antiquity:
That is the core of the Hellenic notion of the contest: it abominates the rule of one and fears its dangers; it desires, as a protection against the
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
genius, another genius. Every talent must unfold itself in fighting: that is the command of Hellenic popular
"cult of genius" ? its curious and offensive aspects notwith- standing, will take on added significance with respect to psychology in our fur- ther deliberations. During Nietzsche's time, any engendering of centaurs was possible only within the context of a genial, artistic, "everything-is-permitted"
which later gave birth to these ? these doubly destructive images from art and theory, stimulating fusions of the fundamental and the accidental. Even in ? ? he had accepted the position at Basel and had, under the liberating influence of Wagner, made his first rhetorical attempts at a philology inspired by the spirit of ? was able to express a presentiment of
literary tendencies. He wrote at this time to Erwin Rohde:
Scholarship, art, and philosophy are growing together inside me to such an extent that one day I'm bound to give birth to
Only from behind the pretense of the cult of genius was Nietzsche able to defend himself publicly from his profession's demands that he limit his self-ex- pression to topics that were customary within the profession, and that he deal privately with the so-called existential remainder. The genial mannerisms of the author can therefore be understood as indications of an understandable lack of willingness and as manifestations of an endearing incapacity -- the unwillingness to mutilate himself academically, and the inability to be the sort of scholar who is interested in nothing outside of his own narrow specialization.
Now, it would seem as obvious as it would be misleading to understand Nietzsche's literary centaurs within the context of the essay ? and to thereby dismiss the drama of civilization that is hidden behind a reduction to genre def- inition by means of a prescribed phraseology, however generous it may be. The term "essay" itself has a cockeyed ring to it: it sounds almost like a plea for leniency in the face of insufficient intellectual ? Its open form, its laxity in constructing an argument, the rhetorical liberties it takes, and the "vacation" it allows one from the task of having to provide evidence to support one's conclu-
of this would point to mitigating circumstances. We are usually only able to associate such laxity with regression, and such liberties with a lapse. To the extent that the same types of tension-release mechanisms must coexist along- side a stringent ? the intellect that is dominated by professional- ism and seriousness must concede the existence of a proviso that it calls "the
one does not have to be so particular.
But this is not at all true in Nietzsche's writing. When he lets himself go, the level of quality increases; when he opens the floodgates of his mind, the claims he makes are radicalized. And when he follows his whims, his discipline be-
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
comes more than it was. For this reason, Nietzsche's centaurs consistently take the wrong ? -- and thereby proceed
The problem that begins to make itself apparent here is so extensive that it would seem justifiable to attempt to reformulate it. Might it not be true that, within the framework of an integrated existence (whatever that might knowl- edge of the world and self-expression belong close in any case, than they are usually found to be under modern-day conditions? Has not the di- vision of the labor of talent that characterizes our times led to the tendential op- position of the psychic attitudes that capacitate scientifically oriented knowledge to the expression of the self, while those that accommodate self-expression betray a propensity that is hostile to knowledge? Are not the cults of science and aesthetics the prototypical "complementary idiots" of modernity? And, under such ? must not the relationship between a cognitive modernity, as has been organized within the scope of science and technology, and an aesthetic mo- dernity, as has been established within the arts today, be strained to the breaking point? Should we not instead perhaps simply speak of a relationship that is openly hostile?
If the situation is indeed as these questions imply, what are the ramifications for an individual ? contrary to the spirit of his ? still believes in the Goe- thean idea of a double intellect, which is simultaneously artistic and scientific? What happens to those naive, intense individuals who, from the start, have not understood that the modern promises of totality are nothing less than a swindle, pure and simple? How are those enthusiastic temperaments who are not quite up to the current standards for cynicism and intellectual dismemberment supposed to manage? With reference to the author of The Birth of Tragedy, I ask, Did the young Nietzsche drink his fill of Pfortenser humanism, the Schopenhauerian pathos of asceticism, and the Wagnerian cult of genius so that, in his own pro- fessional and journalistic endeavors, he could submit to the demands of the di- vision of intellectual labor and allow himself to be restricted by the political tac- tics expected by his profession? "The whole man must move at ? Nietzsche could have chosen this adage from Addison, which Lichtenberg had once re- corded approvingly in his notebook, as his own ? Man must express himself as a whole self.
Perhaps Nietzsche's acute penetration into current intellectual sensibilities can be attributed to the fact that he reminds us of an unrelinquished dream of moder- nity: he succeeded, albeit at a high price, in being an artist as scholar-scientist and a scholar-scientist as artist. What we find so fascinating in this today is not the audacity of this solution but rather its obviousness. And yet, with his effort- lessly effective double-natured observations as a scholarly-scientific aesthetician and an aesthetic scholar-scientist, he found himself caught in the position of rep- resenting an unclassifiable curiosity, which is at home nowhere because it could belong anywhere. From this eccentric position, Nietzsche called attention to
? ? ? ? ? ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
what was a cultural and psychological scandal and an aberration of perceptions: the fact that what is obvious to any impartial intelligence is marveled at as rep- resenting something exceptional, and that what could not but spontaneously result from a healthy aversion to constriction was either celebrated or berated as exceeding a limit. In light of we can remove Nietzsche's obsession with genius from his successors without What at one time could perhaps be accomplished only through the aristocratic pose of the cult of genius comes off today by way of an imperturbable lack of respect for ? In the meantime, we no longer need even a superclever theory of deprofessionalization in order to resist scientogenous "specialists" and the nonintellectual ? of the di- vision of intellectual labor. Resistance of this sort does not require any sort of expertise: of what use is Critical Theory if vigilance is enough?
But it ? an outstanding way ? literary virtue. In order to be able to con- sider the current deficiencies in critical theories as a loss we can easily ? we must perhaps simply cease to conceive of literature as a separate aesthetic world that, because of its specific characteristics ? has become a spe- cialty in itself and, with this, merely a new pigeonhole. Perhaps literature is simply, in the broadest ? the universal element within the centauric phenom- enon. It would in that case be the lingua franca for free spirits, for those who cross the borders between spheres that shift away from each other, and for de- fenders of coherence. There have been sufficient indications for a long time now that this true. Always, whenever authors inspire a dual perspective through their own ? there comes into play the literary general eloquence of in- telligent minds who seem to see the only value in limits as lying in the fact that these limits afford us the opportunity to exceed them. From E. T. A. Hoffmann to Sigmund Freud, from S0ren Kierkegaard to Theodor ? ? from Novalis to Robert from ? Heine to Alexander ? from Paul ? to Octavio ? from Bertolt Brecht to Michel Foucault, and from Walter Benjamin to Roland Barthes ? each instance, the most communicative minds have pre- sented themselves as temperaments and variations of the centauric genius.
Whatever is at stake in The Birth of Tragedy, the appearance of this archetypal centauric writing took place within a conspicuous cultural vacuum and was met by an astonishing silence on the part of the ? According to them, the book was merely a private incident, a footnote to the Wagner cult.
There were isolated readers who sensed that something promising was at work in this little book, but,
its immediate effect was to make its author appear to be as far his profession was ? in the words of Professor of Bonn. But even those who sensed in this dense, moving opusculum the element that was in potential for the future would have been hard pressed to comment on what was about. Only later, when Zarathustra had won Nietzsche worldwide stature,
did what he intimated become clear. Nietzsche had constructed for himself a
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 14 ? CENTAURIC LITERATURE
stage upon which more than a Bayreuth renaissance was to be played out. It was a stage for exceptional disclosures, for cultural reevaluations of the most menacing sort, and for an unheard-of breakthrough into humanism by psychody-
The ? philologist, who those around him expected would (de- voted as he was to antiquity) carry on the cult of individuality of Weimar and Greece, raised the curtain on a stage upon which the bourgeois individual had to abandon himself to the most dangerous and at the same time most probable dis- illusionment. Suddenly, Greek antiquity was no longer a faithful mirror for hu- manistic ? nor a guarantee for reasonable moderation and proper bourgeois serenity. In one stroke, the autonomy of the classical subject was done away with. From above and from below, from the numinous and the animal realms, impersonal powers broke into the standardized form of the personality and turned it into a tumbling mat for dark and violent energies, an instrument of anonymous universal forces. Although, within the history of bourgeois culture, enthusiasm for Greece had consistently functioned as a key component in the makeup of the individual (with classical philology as the institutional support mechanism for the humanistic cult of personality), the most disquieting subver- sion of modern belief in the autonomy of the subject now arose from this, the most established of all disciplines.
Little wonder, then, that his colleagues anxiously restrained themselves. Only one man made the leap from embarrassment to outrage, restylizing and trans- forming his unwillingness to understand into a condescending
attitude. This was Ulrich von ? a doctoral candidate with the glib tongue of a professor who defended his academic inheritance before he had mastered it. Actually, he later made his career within the framework of the values he had attempted to protect from Nietzsche's subversion. The term "phi- lology of the ? which ? had coined to use against Nietzsche's book (a contemptuous reference to the Wagnerian "art of the future"), was a term of derision that became a prophecy ? not, to be sure, in the sense that Nietzsche's essay would point the way for the future study of classical languages and cultures. This term of mockery became true enough in the inversion of its meaning. Philological studies did not become more vital; rather, what was vital became more informed by philology. Through Nietzsche, a philology of the future was generated that, in an unprecedented manner, inquired into the corre- spondences between existence and language.
? ? ? ? Chapter 2
The Philology of Existence, the Dramaturgy of Force
not hurt vanity the mother of all tragedies? All the vain
are good actors: they act and they want people to
at them; all their spirit is behind this will. They enact themselves; near them I love to look at life: that cures my melancholy.
Thus Spoke Zarathustra,
"On Human Prudence"
It is characteristic of one type of important aesthetic theory that it never discusses a phenomenon without incorporating some element of what is being discussed into the discourse itself. The Birth ? Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music is not only a manifesto on the polarity between the Apollonian and Dionysian artistic
but is itself the result of the interplay of energies that are both raging and resis- tant, intoxicating and precise. It does not concern itself merely with the
rence of the Dionysian religion of art in antiquity, but instead directs itself toward a verbal passion play based on old and new heroes with neoreligious gestures ecstasy. It not only addresses the origins of tragedy in universal human
as it is manifested in ? but also presents itself as a rhetorical
which opinions that are too severe to be heard without producing despair can be voiced from beneath a toned-down veil of well-formed sentences and attestations of
Because it is a discourse on art that is nearly art itself, Nietzsche's early work has become a model for much of what has been brought forth since then in the field of aesthetic theory. It is a discourse in which subjects who have been
in science remind themselves of their ? existence. Under the pretext of a theory of antiquity, Nietzsche the philologist here devoted his attention to his
and to the passions of the present. At the
aesthetics ? ? a new art ? ? For what, if not the manifestation of his own ? can be at issue when an author ex- tends himself (with a reckless sense of superiority) beyond historical facts in order to outline a new image of Hellenic culture and its tragic psychospiritual
? ? ? ? ? looking
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 15
? ? 16 THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE
foundation image that exhibits traces of late romanticism and manifests ? fin de ? pathos, as though it were nothing more than a matter of translating Greek mythology into the metaphysics of bourgeois pessimism, and the suffering of the heroes of antiquity into modern-day gestures of inner discord? W ithin this context, however, the historical accuracy of the representation is less important than the ? the ? ? On the path toward his inquiry into the ? ? ? stumbles upon traces of antiquity that can no longer be dealt with in philological terms. Similar to the way in which Schlie-
exhumed the true dreams of his childhood from the ruins of hills that had been buried for millennia, Nietzsche brought to light, in the course of his philo- logical ? a layer of tableaux that had been, so to ? buried alive, the truth content of which was older and more acerbic than that of self-confident research into antiquity and modern-day manifestations of individualism. It is, in both ? a matter of becoming valuable ? in an almost psychoar- chaeological sense. The singing he-goats who scream over the stage in Nietz- sche's hallucinatory vision of antiquity are less ancient satyrs in a state of orgias- tic ecstasy than exemplary modern subjects with their accursed good breeding and their cultural discontent.
Is it even possible here to persist in speaking of modern subjects? Is not the end result of Nietzsche's excavations into our cultural ? precisely the mining of the new subject by the forces inherent in the old drama? Indeed, is it not, to a lesser extent, an undermining or subversion of the subject in a psycho- analytic sense, and much more an ontological derealizing ? an inundation by impersonal ? and the reduction of the subject to an effect of antagonistic forces and the conflicting "artistic instincts of nature"? The ego -- and with it, its constitutive dream of autonomy -- would thus represent merely the irreal seam at which the ? of
delight in vision ? ? In the light of speculation of this kind, subjectivity (Subjekthaftigkeit) appears as the epiphenomenon within the inter- play between the great subjectless cosmic ? as an elusive interspace be- tween the tendencies toward self-preservation and self-annihilation that exist within a cruelly exuberant and unintentional natural
The question arises as to what manner of philology this must be to acknowl- edge no fear when it questions the most sacred tenet of modernity, the moral dogma of the autonomy of the subject. When Nietzsche claims for himself the right to formulate a theory of the drama that then expands into a protohistory of subjectivity, he has ostentatiously placed himself upon a podium that no longer resembles his academic lectern and can no longer be considered a fundamental component of his role as a bourgeois
But what kind of stage is it to which the philologist of the future ascends? Its cultural status was, in Nietzsche's time, anything but unequivocal, and has re- mained so to this day. This question cannot be answered even in terms of a quick
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE ? 17
with depth psychology and ? because these are merely descriptively positive titles for something that radically defies clear definition, something that is evasive and negative. In any case, it would appear to be a stage upon which modern individuals act out a drama that ? risking a falsely pos- itive nomenclature) could be characterized as their search for self. Elevated to such a stage, theory becomes ? porous, and is permeated with the most powerfully instinctual existential tensions of those who do their thinking upon it. Thus even philology, initially so well behaved, can become adventurous. Within this context, theory is no longer a discursive mechanism that is served and reconstructed by the functionaries of thought, but instead represents a stage upon which life is transformed into an "experiment on the part of the
He who steps out upon this stage wants to distinguish himself in a specific intention is to betray himself. But he wants to so do in order to force the dilemma, whose mask he feels himself to be, into plain view to the point at which it will betray itself. A mode of thought that has been existentially blown open in this way intends no affront toward so-called serious research, even if the its incurable ? ? understands it as such. Rather, its in- tention is to replenish the vital essence of this research. He who permits himself to think in this way does so not to get away with accomplishing less but to risk He who takes the stage as a thinker and takes a chance as a spokesman for an experimental existence must, from that point onward, assume an all-encom- passing responsibility for the immediate and the indirect truth-value of his per- formance. At the same time, he has earned the right to have everything that he brings forward used against him "before the ? him, and, at the same time, in his defense ? this right means a great deal to anyone who has placed himself, by way of a radical self-sacrifice, beyond the shallow position of
being simply either "for or
"Before the would indicate a second stage, upon which the ad- venturer of theory and the hero of thought no longer figures personally, but upon which, instead, his critics, his fans, and all those who, because of their openness to his suggestions, feel they have earned the right to hold the ground-breaking thinker accountable for his ? The extremely specific relationship be- tween Nietzsche's writing and both his contemporary public and posterity can best be characterized through the image of the dual stage ? upon which the thinker exposes and implicates himself, and the other upon which those who agree with him and follow his thought test the applicability of the protagonist's truths to their own lives.
If a dramatized reflection is really an "experiment on the part of the per- then the ? gained from this experimental arrangement must at- tract attention as the self-realizations of the thinker, while his mistakes are rec- ognized as his personal failings. Thinking on stage is more likely to generate truth by following the archaic models of the wager or divine judgment than
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 18 ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE
through the modern schematic of discursive inference from principles. In accor- dance with a totally apothecary concept of truth
what appears here as truth is not what has been proved to be theoretically the most but rather what best proves itself within the context of a suc- cessful ? Whenever the thinker brings the truth about himself to light upon the stage, he reveals himself, eo ipso, in the process of becoming what he is. If he does not do so, he exposes the truth about himself and his hypothesis in that, like the heroes of antiquity, he succumbs to his dilemma and runs aground on his own inability to understand himself.
Whatever one thinks of Nietzsche, he must impress even his detractors in one respect, since, in his willingness to risk intellectual truths, he was the most au- dacious thinker of the new era. He paid the price for the danger inherent in his thinking to a degree unparalleled by almost anyone else. In his program for the stage, which was intended to lend him credibility as the new Dionysian hero, he ultimately proved himself to be above all else a hero of his own times, a hero of
Posing and reflecting upon an open stage, he submitted himself to the laws of an unrelenting self-exposure. In his attempt to become what he was, he implicated himself in the most tortuous of comedies -- so as to become what he was not: a hero, a superhuman, a "Superman" ? The greatest dis- covery made in his heroic search for truth was therefore an unintentional one: he brought to light the truth about heroism as representing the continuation of a fun- damental
The first victim of Nietzsche's debut on the stage of truth was his standing within his own profession. One ? ? ? be ? was common practice within the field of classical philology and its critical methodology, which, with its conjecturing and ? was part renunciatory and part subordinate, before one can appreciate the grotesque gap between Nietzsche's attempt to push forward and what was customary within the field. What Nietzsche carried out was not a mere switch to a different specialization, a transfer from philology to philosophy; what he accomplished was nothing less than academic suicide. From this point forward, Nietzsche no longer addresses antiquity as a classical scholar. Whenever he does call upon the ancients, it is as a modern mystagogue and leader of orgies who always speaks from a perspective of inner simultaneity with the early Greek mysteries. Dionysus, Apollo, Ariadne, the Sphinx, the Minotaur,
that point on, these are simply mythological names for contem- porary forces and allegories for acute sensations of pain. Modernity is thus no longer merely a name given to a volcanic process of repulsion on the part of an undetermined present in the face of its own prehistory (Vorzeit); for Nietzsche, it becomes concurrently the almost accidental point of departure for the rediscov- ery of the basic truths of Greece. (As is the intellectual custom, Sigmund Freud proved himself a generation later to be the truest of Nietzsche's indirect students
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? THE PHILOLOGY OF EXISTENCE, THE DRAMATURGY OF FORCE ? 19
in that he also attempted to formulate his psychological opinions in the language of a time-obliterating modern mythology. )
But how is an "actualism" (Aktualismus) of this sort possible? How can a modern individual, contrary to all the rules of historical consciousness, want to place himself into a position of contemporaneousness with concepts that are so temporally and culturally far removed? What right does a modern thinker extinguish an interval of two thousand five hundred years so that he can about the drama of the ancient Greeks as though he were discussing an
personal experience? Two observations on Nietzsche's way of positioning himself on the stage of thought can provide us with answers to these questions.
First, even before he had voiced a single word upon the stage, Nietzsche was made ripe for it by his decision before the fact to present "something great" on the subject of the Greeks. What has been described here as his characteristic "cult of genius" refers not only to a psychic disposition on his part but also to a preliminary methodological decision on what his relationship with the historical material would be. As Faust called upon the spirit of the earth (Erdgeist), so Nietzsche calls upon the spirit of genius in early Greece to answer the question, How does one mind speak to another? And he himself provides the answer. The Greek world discusses its most puzzling mysteries to its greatest advantage with a certain professor in Basel who, because he is on scandalously intimate terms with Lady Antiquity, will one day be a former and ridiculed professor. Nietz- sche's radical "actualism" is therefore an expression of his "cult of genius" a-vis early Greek thought and poetry. The cult of genius, however, is to a sub- stantial degree one of concurrent genius ? ? and consequently it results in the conviction that anything exceptional can be understood only by its
that ? greatness can be recognized only by an equal ? depth by an equal degree of ? suffering by an equal suffering, and the heroic through an equal heroism. Nietzsche's concept of concurrent genius in any case forced the issue to such an extent that it conceived of the intellectual history of Europe as representing merely a spiritual migration on the part of the great intellects, whose path had led from Homer and Heraclitus to Kant and Schopenhauer and, through them, to Wagner and Nietzsche ? migration that always took place, of course, at the lonely heights where, aside from these thinkers, only eagles could survive.
The second prerequisite for Nietzsche's actualistic conjuring up of Hellenism lies in his historical-philosophical claims. Whenever Nietzsche takes the stage as prophetic Greek scholar, he is wearing not only the mask of the genial hero of thought but also that of a philosopher of history or, more correctly, a mythologist of history. Equipped with its powers of authority, he condenses the past two thou-
sand five hundred years ?
