All these elated moments of life
stimulate each other; the world of images and of imagination of the one suffices as a suggestion for the other: in this way states finally merge into each other, which might do better to keep apart, e.
stimulate each other; the world of images and of imagination of the one suffices as a suggestion for the other: in this way states finally merge into each other, which might do better to keep apart, e.
Nietzsche - Works - v15 - Will to Power - b
was asked, in what sort of actions does man most strongly assert himself?
Around these
was believed that there could be such
covetousness, lust for power, cruelty, etc. etc. ) hate, contempt, and anathemas were
(sexuality, heaped:
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THE WILL TO POWER.
things as selfless impulses. Everything selfish was condemned, everything unselfish was in demand.
(6) And the result was: what had been done? A ban had been placedon the strongest, the most natural, yea, the only genuine impulses; hencefor ward, in order that an action might be praiseworthy,
there must be no trace in it of any of those genuine impulses--monstrous fraud in psychology. Every kind of "self-satisfaction" had to be remodelled and made possible by means of misunderstanding and adjusting one's self sub specie bani. Conversely: that species which found its advantage in depriving mankind of its self-satisfaction, the representatives of the gregarious instincts, eg. the priests and the philosophers, were sufficiently crafty and psycho logically astute to show how selfishness ruled every where. The Christian conclusion from this was: " Everything is sin, even our virtues. Man is utterly undesirable. Selfless actions are impos sible. " Original sin. In short, once man had
opposed his instincts to a purely imaginary world of the good, he concluded by despising himself as incapable of performing " good " actions.
N. B. ---In this way Christianity represents a' step forward in the sharpening of psychological insight : La Rochefoucauld and Pascal. It perceived the essential equality of human actions,and the equality of their values as a whole (all immoral).
>1:
Now the first serious object was to rear men in whom self-seeking impulses were extinguished:
? ? ? ? SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL.
priests, saints. And people doubted that perfec tion was possible, they did not doubt What per fection was.
The psychology of the saint and of the priest and of the "good" man, must naturally have seemed purely phantasmagorical. The real motive of all action had been declared bad: therefore, in order to make action still possible, deeds had to be
which, though not possible, had to be declared possible and sanctified. They now honoured and idealised things with as much falsity as they had previously slandered them.
Inveighing against the instincts Of life came to be regarded as holy and estimable. The priestly ideal was: absolute chastity, absolute Obedience, absolute poverty! The lay ideal: alms, pity, self sacrifice, renunciation of the beautiful, of reason, and of sensuality, and dark frown for all the strong qualities that existed.
An advance made: the slandered instincts attempt to re-establish their rights (e. g. Luther's Reformation, the coarsest form of moral falsehood under, the cover of "Evangelical freedom they are rechristened With holy names.
The calumniated instincts try to demonstrate that they are necessary in order that the virtuous instincts may be possible. Il faut vivre, afin de vivre pour autrui: egoism as means to an end. '
* Spencer's conclusion the Data of Ethz'cs. ---TR.
prescribed
233
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? THE WILL r0 POWER.
But people go still further: they try to grant both the egoistic and altruistic impulses the right to exist--equal rights for both--from the utili tarian standpoint.
People go further: they see greater utility in placing the egoistic rights before the altruistic-- greater utility in the sense of more happiness for the majority, or of the elevation of mankind, etc. etc. Thus the rights of egoism begin to preponderate,
but under the cloak of an extremely altruistic standpoint--the collective utility of humanity.
An attempt is made to reconcile the altruistic mode of action with the natural order of things. Altruism is sought in the very roots of life. Altruism and egoism are both based upon the
essence of life and nature.
The disappearance of the opposition between them is dreamt of as a future possibility. Con
tinued adaptation, it is hoped, will merge the two into one.
At last it is seen that altruistic actions are merely a species of the egoistic--and that the degree to which one loves and spends one's self is a
proof of the extent of one's individual power and personality. In short, that the more evil man can be made, the better he and that one cannot be the one without the other. . . At this point the
curtain rises which concealed the monstrous fraud of the psychology that has prevailed hitherto.
Results--There are only immoral intentions and actions the so-called moral actions must be shown
234
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*
is, .
? socns'rv AND THE INDIVIDUAL.
235
'to be immoral. All emotions are traced to a single will, the will to power, and are called essentially equal. The concept of life: in the apparent antithesis good and evil, degrees of power in the instincts alone are expressed. A temporary order of rank is established according to which certain instincts are either controlled or enlisted 'in our service. Morality is justified: economically, etc.
*
Against proposition two--Determinism: the attempt to rescue the moral world by transferring it to the unknown.
Determinism is only a manner of allowing our selves to conjure our valuations away, once they have lost their place in a world interpreted mechanistically. Determinism must therefore be attacked and undermined at all costs: just as our right to distinguish between an absolute and phenomenal world should be disputed.
787
It is absolutely necessary to emancipate our selves from motives: otherwise we should not be allowed to attempt to sacrifice ourselves or to neglect ourselves! Only the innocence of Be coming gives us the highest courage and the highest freedom.
788.
A clean conscience must be restored to the evil mam--has this been my involuntary endeavour all
? ? ? ? 236
THE WILL To POWER.
the time? for I take as the evil man him who is strong (Dostoievsky's belief concerning the con victs in prison should be referred to here).
789.
Our new "freedom. " What a feeling of relief there is in the thought that we emancipated spirits do not feel ourselves harnessed to any system of teleological aims. Likewise that the concepts reward and punishment have no roots in the essence of existence! Likewise that good and evil actions are not good or evil in themselves, but only from the point of view of the self-pre servative tendencies of certain species of humanity !
Likewise that our speculations concerning pleasure and pain are not of cosmic, far less then of meta physical, importance! (That form of pessimism associated with the name of Hartmann, which pledges itself to put even the pain and pleasure of existence into the balance, with its arbitrary con finement in the prison and within the bounds of pre-Copernican thought, would be something not only retrogressive, but degenerate, unless it be merely a bad joke on the part of a " Berliner. " ')
790.
If one is clear as to the "wherefore" of one's life, then the "how " of it can take care of itself.
* " Berliner "---The citizens of Berlin are renowned in Germany for their poor jokes--TR.
? ? ? ? SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL
237
It already even sign of disbelief in the where fore and in the purpose and sense of life--in fact,
sign of lack of will--when the value of
and pain step into the foreground, and hedonistic and pessimistic teaching becomes pre valent; and self-abnegation, resignation, virtue, "objectivity," may, at the very least, be signs that the most important factor beginning to make its absence felt.
791
Hitherto there has been no German culture. It no refutation of this assertion to say that there have been great anchorites in Germany (Goethe,
for instance); for these had their own culture. But was precisely around them, as though around mighty, defiant, and isolated rocks, that the remain ing spirit of Germany, as their antithesis, lay--that
pleasure
? .
to say, as soft, swampy, slippery soil, upon which every step and every footprint of the rest ofEurope made an impression and created forms.
German culture was thing devoid of character and of almost unlimited yielding power.
792
Germany, though very rich in clever and well informed scholars, has for some time been so ex cessively poor in great souls and in mighty minds, that almost seems to have forgotten what great soul or mighty mind and to-day mediocre and
even ill-constituted men place themselves in the market square without the suggestion of con science-prick or signofembarrassment,and declare
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THE WILL TO POWER.
themselves great men, reformers, etc. Take the case of Eugen D'uhring, for instance, a really clever and well-informed scholar, but a man who betrays with almost every word he says that he has a miser ably small soul, and that he is horribly tormented by narrow envious feelings; moreover, that it is no mighty overflowing, benevolent, and spendthrift spirit that drives him on, but only the spirit of ambition! But to be ambitious in such an age as
this is much more unworthy of a philosopher than ever it was: to-day, when it is the mob that rules, when it is the mob that dispenses the honours.
793
My " future": a severe polytechnic education. Conscription; so that as a rule every man of the higher classes should be an officer, whatever else he may be besides.
? ? ? ? IV.
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
794
OUR religion, morality, and philosophy are
decadent human institutions. The counter-agent: Art.
795
The Artist-philosopher. A higher concept Of art. Can man stand at so great a distance from his fellows as to mould them? (Preliminary ex
? ercises thereto :--
I. To become a self-former, an anchorite.
.
2. TO do what artists have done hitherto, i. e. to reach a small degree Of perfection in a certain
medium. )
796.
'Art as it appears without the artist, i. e. as a body, an organisation (the Prussian Officers' Corps, the Order of the jesuits). To what extent is the artist merely a preliminary stage? The world
regarded as a self-generating work of art.
'
239
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THE "'ILL TO POWER.
797
The phenomenon, "artist," is the easiest to see through: from it one can look down upon the fundamental instincts of power, of nature, etc. ; even of religion and morality.
" Play," uselessness--as the ideal of him who is overflowing with power, as the ideal of the child.
'
Apollonian, Dionysian. There are two con ditions in which art manifests itself in man even as a force of nature, and disposes of him whether he consent or not: it may be as a constraint to visionary states, or it may be an orgiastic impulse. Both conditions are to be seen in normal life, but they are then somewhat weaker: in dreams and in moments of elation or intoxication. "
But the same contrast exists between the dream state and the state of intoxication: both of these states let loose all manner of artistic powers with in us, but each unfetters powers of a different kind. Dreamland gives us the power of vision, of association, of poetry: intoxication gives us the power of grand attitudes, of passion, of song, and
of dance.
* German : " Rausch. "--There is no word in English for the German expression " Rausch. " When Nietzsche uses
he means sort of blend of our two werds intoxication and elation--TR.
The childishness of God, waic
798
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The feeling of intoxication as matter of fact, equivalent to sensation of surplus power:
strongest in seasons of rut: new organs, new accomplishments, new colours, new forms. Em bellishment an outcome of _increased power. Embellishment merely an expression of
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
241
99
Sexuality and voluptuousness belong to the Dionysiac intoxication: but neither of them lacking in the Apollonian state. There also
difference of tempo between the states. . . The extreme peace of certain feelings of intoxication (or, more strictly, the slackening of the feeling of time, and the reduction of the feeling of space) wont to reflect itself in the vision of the most restful attitudes and states of the soul. The classical style essentially represents repose, simplification, foreshortening, and concentration--the highest feel ing of power concentrated in the classical type. To react with difficulty: great consciousness: no feeling of strife.
800.
? will, of an increased state of co ordination, of harmony of all the strong desires, of an infallible and perpendicular equilibrium.
Logical and geometrical simplification the result of an increase of power: conversely, the mere aspect of such simplification increases the sense of power in the beholder. . The zenith of development: the grand style.
Ugliness signifies the decadence of a type: con VOL. 11. .
triumphant
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tradiction and faulty co-ordination among the in most desires--this means a decline in the organis ing power, or, psychologically speaking,in the "will. "
The condition of pleasure which is called in toxication is really an exalted feeling of power. . . . Sensations of space and time are altered; incrdinate distances are traversed by the eye, and only then become visible; the extension of the vision over greater masses and expanses;-the refinement of the organ which apprehends the smallest and most elusive things; divination, the power of understanding at the slightest hint, at the smallest suggestion; intelligent sensitiveness; strength as a feeling of dominion in the muscles, as agility and love of movement, as dance, as levity and quick time; strength as the love of proving strength, as bravado, adventurousness, fearlessness, indifference in regard to life and death. . . .
All these elated moments of life
stimulate each other; the world of images and of imagination of the one suffices as a suggestion for the other: in this way states finally merge into each other, which might do better to keep apart, e. g. the feeling of religious intoxication and sexual irritability (two very profound feelings, always wonderfully co-ordinated. What is it that pleases almost all pious women, old or young? Answer :, a saint with beautiful legs, still young, still in?
nocent). Cruelty in tragedy and pity (likewise " normally correlated). Spring-time, dancing, music, ---all these things are but the display of one sex before the other,--as also that " infinite yearning
of the heart" peculiar to Faust.
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
243
? ' ' __
Artists when they are worth anything at all are men of strong propensities (even physically), with surplus energy, powerful animals, sensual without
certain overheating of the sexual system a man like Raphael unthinkable. . . To produce music also in sense to produce children;
chastity merely the economy of the artist, and in all creative artists productiveness certainly ceases. with sexual potency. . Artists should not see things as they are; they should see them fuller, simpler, stronger: to this end, however, kind of youthfulness, of vernality, sort of per petual elation, must be peculiar to their lives.
80x.
The states in which we transfigure things and make them fuller, and rhapsodise about them, until they reflect our own fulness and love of life back upon us: sexuality, intoxication, post-prandial states, spring, triumph over our enemies, scorn, bravado, cruelty, the ecstasy of religious feeling. But three elements above all are active: sexuality, intoxication, cruelty; all these belong to the oldest
festaljoys of mankind, they also preponderate in budding artists.
Conversely: there are things with which we meet which already show us this transfiguration
and fulness, and the animal world's
thereto state of excitement in the spheres Where these states Of happiness originate. A blending of these very delicate shades of animal well-being and desires the aesthetic state. The
response
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THE WILL TO POWER.
latter only manifests itself in those natures which are capable of that spendthrift and overflowing fulness of bodily vigour; the latter is always the primum mobile. The sober-minded man, the tired man, the exhausted and dried-up man (e. g. the scholar), can have no feeling for art, because he does not possess the primitive force of art, which is the tyranny of inner riches: he who
cannot give anything away cannot feel anything either.
"Perfection. "--In these states (more particularly in the case of sexual love) there is an ingenuous betrayal of what the profoundest instinct regards as the highest, the most desirable, the most valuable, the ascending movement of its type; also of the condition towards which it is actually striving. Perfection: the extraordinary expansion
Of this instinct's feeling of power, its riches, its necessary overflowing of all banks.
802.
Art reminds us Of states of physical vigour: it may be the overflow and bursting forth of bloom ing life in the world of pictures and desires; on the other hand, it may be an excitation of the physical functions by means of pictures and desires
of exalted life--an enhancement of the feeling of life, the latter's stimulant.
To what extent can ugliness exercise this
? In so far as it may communicate some thing of the triumphant energy of the artist who has become master of the ugly and the repulsive;
power?
? ? ? (in
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
245
or in so far as gently excites our lust of cruelty
some circumstances even the lust of doing harm to ourselves, self-violence, and therewith the feeling of power over ourselves).
803.
"Beauty" therefore to the artist, something which above all order of rank, because in beauty contrasts are overcome, the highest sign of power thus manifesting itself in the conquest of opposites; and achieved without feeling of tension: violence being no longer necessary, everything submitting and obeying so easily, and doing so with good grace; this what delights the powerful will of the artist.
804.
The biological value of beauty and ugliness. That which we feel instinctively opposed to us aesthetically according to the longest experience of mankind, felt to be harmful, dangerous, and worthy of suspicion: the sudden utterance of the
instinct, eg. in the case of loathing, im plies an act of judgment. To this extent beauty lies within the general category of the biological values, useful, beneficent, and life-promoting: thus, host of stimuli which for ages have been associated with, and remind us of, useful things and conditions, give us the feeling of beauty, i. e. the increase of the feeling of power (not only things, therefore, but the sensations which are associated with such things or their symbols).
'
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THE WILL TO POWER.
In this way beauty and ugliness are recognised as determined by our most fundamental self preservative values. Apart from this, it is nonsense to postulate anything as beautiful or ugly. Ab solute beauty exists just as little as absolute good~ ness and truth. In a particular case it is a matter of the self-preservative conditions of a certain type of man: thus the gregarious man will have quite a different feeling for beauty from the exceptional or super-man.
It is the optics of things in the foreground which only consider immediate consequences, from which the value beauty (also goodness and truth) arises.
All instinctive judgments are short-sighted in regard to the concatenation of consequences: they merely advise what must be done forthwith. Reason is essentially an obstructing apparatus preventing the immediate response to instinctive
judgments: it halts, it calculates, it traces the chain of consequences further.
Judgments concerning beauty and ugliness are short-sighted (reason is always opposed to them): but they are convincing in the highest degree; they appeal to our instincts in that quarter where the latter decide most quickly and say yes or no with least hesitation, even before reason can
interpose.
The most common affirmations of beauty
stimulate each other reciprocally; where the aesthetic impulse once begins to work, a whole host of other and foreign perfections crystallise around the "particular form of beauty. " It is
? ? ? ? impossible impossible
sighted;
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
247
to remain objective, certainly to dispense with the interpreting, bestowing, transfiguring, and poetising power (the
latter stringing together of aflirmations con cerning beauty itself). The sight of beautiful woman. .
Thus (I) judgment concerning beauty short
sees only the immediate consequences. It smothers the object which gives rise to
(2)
with charm that determined by the associa
tion of various judgments concerning beauty,
which, however, are quite alien to the essence
the particular object. To regard thing as beauti ful necessarily to regard falsely (that why incidentally love marriages are from the social point of view the most unreasonable form of matrimony).
805.
Concerning the genesis of Art--That making perfect and seeing perfect, which peculiar to the cerebral system overladen with sexual energy lover alone with his sweetheart at eventide trans figures the smallest details: life chain of sublime things, " the misfortune of an unhappy love affair more valuable than anything else "); on the other hand, everything perfect and beautiful operates like an unconscious recollection of that amorous condition and of the point of view peculiar to it--all perfection, and the whole of the beauty of things, through contiguity, revives aphrodisiac bliss. (Physiologically the creative instinct of the artist and the distribution
of
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THE WILL T0 POWER.
of his semen in his blood. ) The desire for art and beauty is an indirect longing for the ecstasy of sexual desire, which gets communicated to the brain. The world become perfect through "love. "
806.
Sensuality in its various disguises. --(I) As idealism (Plato), common to youth, constructing a kind of concave-mirror in which the imageof the beloved is an incrustation, an exaggeration, a transfiguration, an attribution of infinity to every thing. (2) In the religion of love, "a fine young man," "a beautiful woman," in some way divine; a bridegroom, a bride of the soul. (3) In art, as a decorating force, e. g. just as the man sees the woman and makes her a present of everything
that can enhance her personal charm, so the sensuality of the artist adorns an Object with everything else that he honours and esteems, and by this means perfects it (or idealises it). Woman, knowing what man feels in regard to her, tries to meetghis idealising endeavours half way by decorating herself, by walking and dancing well, by expressing delicate thoughts: in addition,
she may practise modesty, shyness, reserve--- prompted by her instinctive feeling that the ideal
ising power of man increases with all this.
the extraordinary finesse of woman's instincts, modesty must not by any means be considered as conscious hypocrisy: she guesses that it is pre cisely artlessness and real shame which seduces man most and urges him to an exaggerated
? (In
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
249
? f I
esteem of her. On this account, woman is in genuous, owing to the subtlety of her instincts which reveal to her the utility of a state of innocence. A wilful closing of one's eyes
to one's self. . . . Wherever dissembling has a stronger influence by being unconscious it actually becomes unconscious. )
807.
What a host of things can be accomplished by the state of intoxication which is called by the name of love, and which is something else besides love ! ---And yet everybody has his own experience of this matter. The muscular strength of a girl suddenly increases as soon as a man comes into her presence: there are instruments with which
this can be measured. In the case of a still closer relationship of the sexes, as, for instance, in dancing and in other amusements which society gatherings entail, this power increases to such an extent as to make real feats of strength possible: at last one no longer trusts either one's eyes, or one's
watch! Here at all events we must reckon with the fact that dancing itself, like every form of rapid movement, involves a kind of intoxication of the whole nervous, muscular, and visceral
We must therefore reckon in this case with the collective effects of a double intoxication. ---And how clever it is to be a little off your head at times! There are some realities which we
cannot admit even to ourselves: especially when we are women and have all sorts Of feminine
system.
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THE WILL TO POWER.
"pudeurs. " . . . Those young creatures dancing over there are obviously beyond all reality: they are dancing only with a host of tangible ideals: what is more, they even see ideals sitting around them, their mothers! . . . An opportunity for quoting Faust. They look incomparably fairer, do these pretty creatures, when they have lost their head a little; and how well they know it
too, they are even more delightful because they know it! Lastly, it is their finery which inspires them: their finery is their third little intoxication. They believe in their dressmaker as in their God : and who would destroy this faith in them? Blessed is this faith! And self-admiration is Self-admiration can protect one even from cold! Has a beautiful woman, who knew she was well
dressed, ever caught cold? Never yet on this earth! I even suppose a case in which she has scarcely a rag'on her.
A 808.
If one should require the most astonishing proof of how far the power of transfiguring, which comes of intoxication, goes, this proof is at hand in "the phenomenon of love; or what is called love in all the languages and silences of' the world. Intoxication works to such a degree upon reality in this passion that in the consciousness of the lover the cause of his love is quite suppressed, and
something else seems to take its place,--a vibra tion and a glitter of all the charm-mirrors of Circe. . . . In this respect/t0 be man or an
? healthy!
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
animal makes no difference: and still less does spirit, goodness, or honesty. If one is astute, one is befooled astutely; if one is thick-headed, one is befooled in a thick-headed way. But love, even the love of God, saintly love, "the love that saves the soul," are at bottom all one; they are nothing but a fever which has reasons to trans-- figure itself--a state of intoxication which does well to lie about itself. . . . And, at any rate, when a man loves, he is a good liar about himself and to himself: he seems to himself transfigured, stronger, richer, more perfect; he is more per fect. . . . Art here acts as an organic function: we find it present in the most angelic instinct "love"; we find it as the greatest stimulus of life--thus art is sublimely utilitarian, even in the fact that it lies. . . . But we should be wrong to halt at its power to lie: it does more than merely imagine; it actually transposes values. And it not only transposes the feeling for values: the lover actually lzas a greater value; he is
In animals this condition gives rise to new weapons, colours, pigments, and forms, and above all to new movements, new rhythms, new love-calls and seductions. In man it is just the same. His whole economy is richer, mightier, and more complele When he is in love than when he is not. The lover becomes a spendthrift; he is rich enough for it. He now dares; he becomes an adventurer, and even a donkey in magnanimity
and innocence; his belief in God and in virtue revives, because he believes in love. Moreover, such idiots of happiness acquire wings and new
25!
? stgmger.
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THE WILL TO POWER.
capacities, and even the door to art isIopened to them.
If we cancel the suggestion of this intestinal
the lyric of tones and words, what is left to poetry and music? . . . L'art pour l'art perhaps; the professional cant of frogs shivering outside in the cold, and dying of despair in their swamp. . . . Everything else was created by love.
809.
was believed that there could be such
covetousness, lust for power, cruelty, etc. etc. ) hate, contempt, and anathemas were
(sexuality, heaped:
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THE WILL TO POWER.
things as selfless impulses. Everything selfish was condemned, everything unselfish was in demand.
(6) And the result was: what had been done? A ban had been placedon the strongest, the most natural, yea, the only genuine impulses; hencefor ward, in order that an action might be praiseworthy,
there must be no trace in it of any of those genuine impulses--monstrous fraud in psychology. Every kind of "self-satisfaction" had to be remodelled and made possible by means of misunderstanding and adjusting one's self sub specie bani. Conversely: that species which found its advantage in depriving mankind of its self-satisfaction, the representatives of the gregarious instincts, eg. the priests and the philosophers, were sufficiently crafty and psycho logically astute to show how selfishness ruled every where. The Christian conclusion from this was: " Everything is sin, even our virtues. Man is utterly undesirable. Selfless actions are impos sible. " Original sin. In short, once man had
opposed his instincts to a purely imaginary world of the good, he concluded by despising himself as incapable of performing " good " actions.
N. B. ---In this way Christianity represents a' step forward in the sharpening of psychological insight : La Rochefoucauld and Pascal. It perceived the essential equality of human actions,and the equality of their values as a whole (all immoral).
>1:
Now the first serious object was to rear men in whom self-seeking impulses were extinguished:
? ? ? ? SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL.
priests, saints. And people doubted that perfec tion was possible, they did not doubt What per fection was.
The psychology of the saint and of the priest and of the "good" man, must naturally have seemed purely phantasmagorical. The real motive of all action had been declared bad: therefore, in order to make action still possible, deeds had to be
which, though not possible, had to be declared possible and sanctified. They now honoured and idealised things with as much falsity as they had previously slandered them.
Inveighing against the instincts Of life came to be regarded as holy and estimable. The priestly ideal was: absolute chastity, absolute Obedience, absolute poverty! The lay ideal: alms, pity, self sacrifice, renunciation of the beautiful, of reason, and of sensuality, and dark frown for all the strong qualities that existed.
An advance made: the slandered instincts attempt to re-establish their rights (e. g. Luther's Reformation, the coarsest form of moral falsehood under, the cover of "Evangelical freedom they are rechristened With holy names.
The calumniated instincts try to demonstrate that they are necessary in order that the virtuous instincts may be possible. Il faut vivre, afin de vivre pour autrui: egoism as means to an end. '
* Spencer's conclusion the Data of Ethz'cs. ---TR.
prescribed
233
? ? ? in
a
*
a
"'KL/
"),
is
if
? THE WILL r0 POWER.
But people go still further: they try to grant both the egoistic and altruistic impulses the right to exist--equal rights for both--from the utili tarian standpoint.
People go further: they see greater utility in placing the egoistic rights before the altruistic-- greater utility in the sense of more happiness for the majority, or of the elevation of mankind, etc. etc. Thus the rights of egoism begin to preponderate,
but under the cloak of an extremely altruistic standpoint--the collective utility of humanity.
An attempt is made to reconcile the altruistic mode of action with the natural order of things. Altruism is sought in the very roots of life. Altruism and egoism are both based upon the
essence of life and nature.
The disappearance of the opposition between them is dreamt of as a future possibility. Con
tinued adaptation, it is hoped, will merge the two into one.
At last it is seen that altruistic actions are merely a species of the egoistic--and that the degree to which one loves and spends one's self is a
proof of the extent of one's individual power and personality. In short, that the more evil man can be made, the better he and that one cannot be the one without the other. . . At this point the
curtain rises which concealed the monstrous fraud of the psychology that has prevailed hitherto.
Results--There are only immoral intentions and actions the so-called moral actions must be shown
234
? ? ? ;
*
is, .
? socns'rv AND THE INDIVIDUAL.
235
'to be immoral. All emotions are traced to a single will, the will to power, and are called essentially equal. The concept of life: in the apparent antithesis good and evil, degrees of power in the instincts alone are expressed. A temporary order of rank is established according to which certain instincts are either controlled or enlisted 'in our service. Morality is justified: economically, etc.
*
Against proposition two--Determinism: the attempt to rescue the moral world by transferring it to the unknown.
Determinism is only a manner of allowing our selves to conjure our valuations away, once they have lost their place in a world interpreted mechanistically. Determinism must therefore be attacked and undermined at all costs: just as our right to distinguish between an absolute and phenomenal world should be disputed.
787
It is absolutely necessary to emancipate our selves from motives: otherwise we should not be allowed to attempt to sacrifice ourselves or to neglect ourselves! Only the innocence of Be coming gives us the highest courage and the highest freedom.
788.
A clean conscience must be restored to the evil mam--has this been my involuntary endeavour all
? ? ? ? 236
THE WILL To POWER.
the time? for I take as the evil man him who is strong (Dostoievsky's belief concerning the con victs in prison should be referred to here).
789.
Our new "freedom. " What a feeling of relief there is in the thought that we emancipated spirits do not feel ourselves harnessed to any system of teleological aims. Likewise that the concepts reward and punishment have no roots in the essence of existence! Likewise that good and evil actions are not good or evil in themselves, but only from the point of view of the self-pre servative tendencies of certain species of humanity !
Likewise that our speculations concerning pleasure and pain are not of cosmic, far less then of meta physical, importance! (That form of pessimism associated with the name of Hartmann, which pledges itself to put even the pain and pleasure of existence into the balance, with its arbitrary con finement in the prison and within the bounds of pre-Copernican thought, would be something not only retrogressive, but degenerate, unless it be merely a bad joke on the part of a " Berliner. " ')
790.
If one is clear as to the "wherefore" of one's life, then the "how " of it can take care of itself.
* " Berliner "---The citizens of Berlin are renowned in Germany for their poor jokes--TR.
? ? ? ? SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL
237
It already even sign of disbelief in the where fore and in the purpose and sense of life--in fact,
sign of lack of will--when the value of
and pain step into the foreground, and hedonistic and pessimistic teaching becomes pre valent; and self-abnegation, resignation, virtue, "objectivity," may, at the very least, be signs that the most important factor beginning to make its absence felt.
791
Hitherto there has been no German culture. It no refutation of this assertion to say that there have been great anchorites in Germany (Goethe,
for instance); for these had their own culture. But was precisely around them, as though around mighty, defiant, and isolated rocks, that the remain ing spirit of Germany, as their antithesis, lay--that
pleasure
? .
to say, as soft, swampy, slippery soil, upon which every step and every footprint of the rest ofEurope made an impression and created forms.
German culture was thing devoid of character and of almost unlimited yielding power.
792
Germany, though very rich in clever and well informed scholars, has for some time been so ex cessively poor in great souls and in mighty minds, that almost seems to have forgotten what great soul or mighty mind and to-day mediocre and
even ill-constituted men place themselves in the market square without the suggestion of con science-prick or signofembarrassment,and declare
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THE WILL TO POWER.
themselves great men, reformers, etc. Take the case of Eugen D'uhring, for instance, a really clever and well-informed scholar, but a man who betrays with almost every word he says that he has a miser ably small soul, and that he is horribly tormented by narrow envious feelings; moreover, that it is no mighty overflowing, benevolent, and spendthrift spirit that drives him on, but only the spirit of ambition! But to be ambitious in such an age as
this is much more unworthy of a philosopher than ever it was: to-day, when it is the mob that rules, when it is the mob that dispenses the honours.
793
My " future": a severe polytechnic education. Conscription; so that as a rule every man of the higher classes should be an officer, whatever else he may be besides.
? ? ? ? IV.
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
794
OUR religion, morality, and philosophy are
decadent human institutions. The counter-agent: Art.
795
The Artist-philosopher. A higher concept Of art. Can man stand at so great a distance from his fellows as to mould them? (Preliminary ex
? ercises thereto :--
I. To become a self-former, an anchorite.
.
2. TO do what artists have done hitherto, i. e. to reach a small degree Of perfection in a certain
medium. )
796.
'Art as it appears without the artist, i. e. as a body, an organisation (the Prussian Officers' Corps, the Order of the jesuits). To what extent is the artist merely a preliminary stage? The world
regarded as a self-generating work of art.
'
239
? ? ? / 240
THE "'ILL TO POWER.
797
The phenomenon, "artist," is the easiest to see through: from it one can look down upon the fundamental instincts of power, of nature, etc. ; even of religion and morality.
" Play," uselessness--as the ideal of him who is overflowing with power, as the ideal of the child.
'
Apollonian, Dionysian. There are two con ditions in which art manifests itself in man even as a force of nature, and disposes of him whether he consent or not: it may be as a constraint to visionary states, or it may be an orgiastic impulse. Both conditions are to be seen in normal life, but they are then somewhat weaker: in dreams and in moments of elation or intoxication. "
But the same contrast exists between the dream state and the state of intoxication: both of these states let loose all manner of artistic powers with in us, but each unfetters powers of a different kind. Dreamland gives us the power of vision, of association, of poetry: intoxication gives us the power of grand attitudes, of passion, of song, and
of dance.
* German : " Rausch. "--There is no word in English for the German expression " Rausch. " When Nietzsche uses
he means sort of blend of our two werds intoxication and elation--TR.
The childishness of God, waic
798
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The feeling of intoxication as matter of fact, equivalent to sensation of surplus power:
strongest in seasons of rut: new organs, new accomplishments, new colours, new forms. Em bellishment an outcome of _increased power. Embellishment merely an expression of
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
241
99
Sexuality and voluptuousness belong to the Dionysiac intoxication: but neither of them lacking in the Apollonian state. There also
difference of tempo between the states. . . The extreme peace of certain feelings of intoxication (or, more strictly, the slackening of the feeling of time, and the reduction of the feeling of space) wont to reflect itself in the vision of the most restful attitudes and states of the soul. The classical style essentially represents repose, simplification, foreshortening, and concentration--the highest feel ing of power concentrated in the classical type. To react with difficulty: great consciousness: no feeling of strife.
800.
? will, of an increased state of co ordination, of harmony of all the strong desires, of an infallible and perpendicular equilibrium.
Logical and geometrical simplification the result of an increase of power: conversely, the mere aspect of such simplification increases the sense of power in the beholder. . The zenith of development: the grand style.
Ugliness signifies the decadence of a type: con VOL. 11. .
triumphant
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THE WILL TO POWER.
tradiction and faulty co-ordination among the in most desires--this means a decline in the organis ing power, or, psychologically speaking,in the "will. "
The condition of pleasure which is called in toxication is really an exalted feeling of power. . . . Sensations of space and time are altered; incrdinate distances are traversed by the eye, and only then become visible; the extension of the vision over greater masses and expanses;-the refinement of the organ which apprehends the smallest and most elusive things; divination, the power of understanding at the slightest hint, at the smallest suggestion; intelligent sensitiveness; strength as a feeling of dominion in the muscles, as agility and love of movement, as dance, as levity and quick time; strength as the love of proving strength, as bravado, adventurousness, fearlessness, indifference in regard to life and death. . . .
All these elated moments of life
stimulate each other; the world of images and of imagination of the one suffices as a suggestion for the other: in this way states finally merge into each other, which might do better to keep apart, e. g. the feeling of religious intoxication and sexual irritability (two very profound feelings, always wonderfully co-ordinated. What is it that pleases almost all pious women, old or young? Answer :, a saint with beautiful legs, still young, still in?
nocent). Cruelty in tragedy and pity (likewise " normally correlated). Spring-time, dancing, music, ---all these things are but the display of one sex before the other,--as also that " infinite yearning
of the heart" peculiar to Faust.
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
243
? ' ' __
Artists when they are worth anything at all are men of strong propensities (even physically), with surplus energy, powerful animals, sensual without
certain overheating of the sexual system a man like Raphael unthinkable. . . To produce music also in sense to produce children;
chastity merely the economy of the artist, and in all creative artists productiveness certainly ceases. with sexual potency. . Artists should not see things as they are; they should see them fuller, simpler, stronger: to this end, however, kind of youthfulness, of vernality, sort of per petual elation, must be peculiar to their lives.
80x.
The states in which we transfigure things and make them fuller, and rhapsodise about them, until they reflect our own fulness and love of life back upon us: sexuality, intoxication, post-prandial states, spring, triumph over our enemies, scorn, bravado, cruelty, the ecstasy of religious feeling. But three elements above all are active: sexuality, intoxication, cruelty; all these belong to the oldest
festaljoys of mankind, they also preponderate in budding artists.
Conversely: there are things with which we meet which already show us this transfiguration
and fulness, and the animal world's
thereto state of excitement in the spheres Where these states Of happiness originate. A blending of these very delicate shades of animal well-being and desires the aesthetic state. The
response
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THE WILL TO POWER.
latter only manifests itself in those natures which are capable of that spendthrift and overflowing fulness of bodily vigour; the latter is always the primum mobile. The sober-minded man, the tired man, the exhausted and dried-up man (e. g. the scholar), can have no feeling for art, because he does not possess the primitive force of art, which is the tyranny of inner riches: he who
cannot give anything away cannot feel anything either.
"Perfection. "--In these states (more particularly in the case of sexual love) there is an ingenuous betrayal of what the profoundest instinct regards as the highest, the most desirable, the most valuable, the ascending movement of its type; also of the condition towards which it is actually striving. Perfection: the extraordinary expansion
Of this instinct's feeling of power, its riches, its necessary overflowing of all banks.
802.
Art reminds us Of states of physical vigour: it may be the overflow and bursting forth of bloom ing life in the world of pictures and desires; on the other hand, it may be an excitation of the physical functions by means of pictures and desires
of exalted life--an enhancement of the feeling of life, the latter's stimulant.
To what extent can ugliness exercise this
? In so far as it may communicate some thing of the triumphant energy of the artist who has become master of the ugly and the repulsive;
power?
? ? ? (in
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
245
or in so far as gently excites our lust of cruelty
some circumstances even the lust of doing harm to ourselves, self-violence, and therewith the feeling of power over ourselves).
803.
"Beauty" therefore to the artist, something which above all order of rank, because in beauty contrasts are overcome, the highest sign of power thus manifesting itself in the conquest of opposites; and achieved without feeling of tension: violence being no longer necessary, everything submitting and obeying so easily, and doing so with good grace; this what delights the powerful will of the artist.
804.
The biological value of beauty and ugliness. That which we feel instinctively opposed to us aesthetically according to the longest experience of mankind, felt to be harmful, dangerous, and worthy of suspicion: the sudden utterance of the
instinct, eg. in the case of loathing, im plies an act of judgment. To this extent beauty lies within the general category of the biological values, useful, beneficent, and life-promoting: thus, host of stimuli which for ages have been associated with, and remind us of, useful things and conditions, give us the feeling of beauty, i. e. the increase of the feeling of power (not only things, therefore, but the sensations which are associated with such things or their symbols).
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THE WILL TO POWER.
In this way beauty and ugliness are recognised as determined by our most fundamental self preservative values. Apart from this, it is nonsense to postulate anything as beautiful or ugly. Ab solute beauty exists just as little as absolute good~ ness and truth. In a particular case it is a matter of the self-preservative conditions of a certain type of man: thus the gregarious man will have quite a different feeling for beauty from the exceptional or super-man.
It is the optics of things in the foreground which only consider immediate consequences, from which the value beauty (also goodness and truth) arises.
All instinctive judgments are short-sighted in regard to the concatenation of consequences: they merely advise what must be done forthwith. Reason is essentially an obstructing apparatus preventing the immediate response to instinctive
judgments: it halts, it calculates, it traces the chain of consequences further.
Judgments concerning beauty and ugliness are short-sighted (reason is always opposed to them): but they are convincing in the highest degree; they appeal to our instincts in that quarter where the latter decide most quickly and say yes or no with least hesitation, even before reason can
interpose.
The most common affirmations of beauty
stimulate each other reciprocally; where the aesthetic impulse once begins to work, a whole host of other and foreign perfections crystallise around the "particular form of beauty. " It is
? ? ? ? impossible impossible
sighted;
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
247
to remain objective, certainly to dispense with the interpreting, bestowing, transfiguring, and poetising power (the
latter stringing together of aflirmations con cerning beauty itself). The sight of beautiful woman. .
Thus (I) judgment concerning beauty short
sees only the immediate consequences. It smothers the object which gives rise to
(2)
with charm that determined by the associa
tion of various judgments concerning beauty,
which, however, are quite alien to the essence
the particular object. To regard thing as beauti ful necessarily to regard falsely (that why incidentally love marriages are from the social point of view the most unreasonable form of matrimony).
805.
Concerning the genesis of Art--That making perfect and seeing perfect, which peculiar to the cerebral system overladen with sexual energy lover alone with his sweetheart at eventide trans figures the smallest details: life chain of sublime things, " the misfortune of an unhappy love affair more valuable than anything else "); on the other hand, everything perfect and beautiful operates like an unconscious recollection of that amorous condition and of the point of view peculiar to it--all perfection, and the whole of the beauty of things, through contiguity, revives aphrodisiac bliss. (Physiologically the creative instinct of the artist and the distribution
of
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THE WILL T0 POWER.
of his semen in his blood. ) The desire for art and beauty is an indirect longing for the ecstasy of sexual desire, which gets communicated to the brain. The world become perfect through "love. "
806.
Sensuality in its various disguises. --(I) As idealism (Plato), common to youth, constructing a kind of concave-mirror in which the imageof the beloved is an incrustation, an exaggeration, a transfiguration, an attribution of infinity to every thing. (2) In the religion of love, "a fine young man," "a beautiful woman," in some way divine; a bridegroom, a bride of the soul. (3) In art, as a decorating force, e. g. just as the man sees the woman and makes her a present of everything
that can enhance her personal charm, so the sensuality of the artist adorns an Object with everything else that he honours and esteems, and by this means perfects it (or idealises it). Woman, knowing what man feels in regard to her, tries to meetghis idealising endeavours half way by decorating herself, by walking and dancing well, by expressing delicate thoughts: in addition,
she may practise modesty, shyness, reserve--- prompted by her instinctive feeling that the ideal
ising power of man increases with all this.
the extraordinary finesse of woman's instincts, modesty must not by any means be considered as conscious hypocrisy: she guesses that it is pre cisely artlessness and real shame which seduces man most and urges him to an exaggerated
? (In
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
249
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esteem of her. On this account, woman is in genuous, owing to the subtlety of her instincts which reveal to her the utility of a state of innocence. A wilful closing of one's eyes
to one's self. . . . Wherever dissembling has a stronger influence by being unconscious it actually becomes unconscious. )
807.
What a host of things can be accomplished by the state of intoxication which is called by the name of love, and which is something else besides love ! ---And yet everybody has his own experience of this matter. The muscular strength of a girl suddenly increases as soon as a man comes into her presence: there are instruments with which
this can be measured. In the case of a still closer relationship of the sexes, as, for instance, in dancing and in other amusements which society gatherings entail, this power increases to such an extent as to make real feats of strength possible: at last one no longer trusts either one's eyes, or one's
watch! Here at all events we must reckon with the fact that dancing itself, like every form of rapid movement, involves a kind of intoxication of the whole nervous, muscular, and visceral
We must therefore reckon in this case with the collective effects of a double intoxication. ---And how clever it is to be a little off your head at times! There are some realities which we
cannot admit even to ourselves: especially when we are women and have all sorts Of feminine
system.
? ? ? 250
THE WILL TO POWER.
"pudeurs. " . . . Those young creatures dancing over there are obviously beyond all reality: they are dancing only with a host of tangible ideals: what is more, they even see ideals sitting around them, their mothers! . . . An opportunity for quoting Faust. They look incomparably fairer, do these pretty creatures, when they have lost their head a little; and how well they know it
too, they are even more delightful because they know it! Lastly, it is their finery which inspires them: their finery is their third little intoxication. They believe in their dressmaker as in their God : and who would destroy this faith in them? Blessed is this faith! And self-admiration is Self-admiration can protect one even from cold! Has a beautiful woman, who knew she was well
dressed, ever caught cold? Never yet on this earth! I even suppose a case in which she has scarcely a rag'on her.
A 808.
If one should require the most astonishing proof of how far the power of transfiguring, which comes of intoxication, goes, this proof is at hand in "the phenomenon of love; or what is called love in all the languages and silences of' the world. Intoxication works to such a degree upon reality in this passion that in the consciousness of the lover the cause of his love is quite suppressed, and
something else seems to take its place,--a vibra tion and a glitter of all the charm-mirrors of Circe. . . . In this respect/t0 be man or an
? healthy!
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
animal makes no difference: and still less does spirit, goodness, or honesty. If one is astute, one is befooled astutely; if one is thick-headed, one is befooled in a thick-headed way. But love, even the love of God, saintly love, "the love that saves the soul," are at bottom all one; they are nothing but a fever which has reasons to trans-- figure itself--a state of intoxication which does well to lie about itself. . . . And, at any rate, when a man loves, he is a good liar about himself and to himself: he seems to himself transfigured, stronger, richer, more perfect; he is more per fect. . . . Art here acts as an organic function: we find it present in the most angelic instinct "love"; we find it as the greatest stimulus of life--thus art is sublimely utilitarian, even in the fact that it lies. . . . But we should be wrong to halt at its power to lie: it does more than merely imagine; it actually transposes values. And it not only transposes the feeling for values: the lover actually lzas a greater value; he is
In animals this condition gives rise to new weapons, colours, pigments, and forms, and above all to new movements, new rhythms, new love-calls and seductions. In man it is just the same. His whole economy is richer, mightier, and more complele When he is in love than when he is not. The lover becomes a spendthrift; he is rich enough for it. He now dares; he becomes an adventurer, and even a donkey in magnanimity
and innocence; his belief in God and in virtue revives, because he believes in love. Moreover, such idiots of happiness acquire wings and new
25!
? stgmger.
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THE WILL TO POWER.
capacities, and even the door to art isIopened to them.
If we cancel the suggestion of this intestinal
the lyric of tones and words, what is left to poetry and music? . . . L'art pour l'art perhaps; the professional cant of frogs shivering outside in the cold, and dying of despair in their swamp. . . . Everything else was created by love.
809.
