On the Future of our Educational Institutions

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 11

and breathless stillness of
nature. The shadows were already lengthening, the sun still shone
steadily, though it had sunk a good deal in the heavens, and from the
green and glittering waves of the Rhine a cool breeze was wafted over
our hot faces. Our solemn rite bound us only in so far as the latest
hours of the day were concerned, and we therefore determined to employ
the last moments of clear daylight by giving ourselves up to one of
our many hobbies.

At that time we were passionately fond of pistol-shooting, and both of
us in later years found the skill we had acquired as amateurs of great
use in our military career. Our club servant happened to know the
somewhat distant and elevated spot which we used as a range, and had
carried our pistols there in advance. The spot lay near the upper
border of the wood which covered the lesser heights behind Rolandseck:
it was a small uneven plateau, close to the place we had consecrated
in memory of its associations. On a wooded slope alongside of our
shooting-range there was a small piece of ground which had been
cleared of wood, and which made an ideal halting-place; from it one
could get a view of the Rhine over the tops of the trees and the
brushwood, so that the beautiful, undulating lines of the Seven
Mountains and above all of the Drachenfels bounded the horizon against
the group of trees, while in the centre of the bow formed by the
glistening Rhine itself the island of Nonnenwoerth stood out as if
suspended in the river's arms. This was the place which had become
sacred to us through the dreams and plans we had had in common, and to
which we intended to withdraw, later in the evening,--nay, to which we
should be obliged to withdraw, if we wished to close the day in
accordance with the law we had imposed on ourselves.

At one end of the little uneven plateau, and not very far away, there
stood the mighty trunk of an oak-tree, prominently visible against a
background quite bare of trees and consisting merely of low undulating
hills in the distance. Working together, we had once carved a
pentagram in the side of this tree-trunk. Years of exposure to rain
and storm had slightly deepened the channels we had cut, and the
figure seemed a welcome target for our pistol-practice. It was already
late in the afternoon when we reached our improvised range, and our
oak-stump cast a long and attenuated shadow across the barren heath.
All was still: thanks

Last Page Next Page

Text Comparison with The Birth of Tragedy; or, Hellenism and Pessimism

Page 7
For a whole day he did his utmost to pay no heed to the injury, and to overcome the pain it caused him; but in the end he only swooned, and a dangerously acute inflammation of the injured tissues was the result.
Page 13
We can thus guess where the great note of interrogation concerning the value of existence had been set.
Page 16
eloquently of a psychological question so difficult as the origin of tragedy among the Greeks.
Page 18
It was _against_ morality, therefore, that my instinct, as an intercessory-instinct for life, turned in this questionable book, inventing for itself a fundamental counter--dogma and counter-valuation of life, purely artistic, purely _anti-Christian.
Page 20
Page 30
" If once the lamentation is heard, it will ring out again, of the short-lived Achilles, of the leaf-like change and vicissitude of the human race, of the decay of the heroic age.
Page 38
Page 44
which is so explicit here speaks against Schlegel: the chorus as such, without the stage,--the primitive form of tragedy,--and the chorus of ideal spectators do not harmonise.
Page 45
Yet it is, not an arbitrary world placed by fancy betwixt heaven and earth; rather is it a world possessing the same reality and trustworthiness that Olympus with its dwellers possessed for the believing Hellene.
Page 46
Page 52
eternal sea, A weaving, flowing, Life, all glowing.
Page 53
Thus, then, the legal knot of the fable of Œdipus, which to mortal eyes appears indissolubly entangled, is slowly unravelled--and the profoundest human joy comes upon us in the presence of this divine counterpart of dialectics.
Page 56
a medley of different worlds, for instance, a Divine and a human world, each of which is in the right individually, but as a separate existence alongside of another has to suffer for its individuation.
Page 70
It is evidently just the degree of clearness of this _knowledge,_ which distinguishes these three men in common as the three "knowing ones" of their age.
Page 84
In the phenomenon of the lyrist, I have set forth that in him music strives to express itself with regard to its nature in Apollonian images.
Page 93
Is it credible that this thoroughly externalised operatic music, incapable of devotion, could be received and cherished with enthusiastic favour, as a re-birth, as it were, of all true music, by the very age in which the ineffably sublime and sacred music of Palestrina had originated? And who, on the other hand, would think of making only the diversion-craving luxuriousness of those Florentine circles and the vanity of their dramatic singers responsible for the love of the opera which spread with such rapidity? That in the same age, even among the same people, this passion for a half-musical mode of speech should awaken alongside of the vaulted structure of Palestrine harmonies which the entire Christian Middle Age had been building up, I can explain to myself only by a co-operating _extra-artistic tendency_ in the essence of the recitative.
Page 104
sublime symbol, namely the myth between the universal authority of its music and the receptive Dionysian hearer, and produces in him the illusion that music is only the most effective means for the animation of the plastic world of myth.
Page 117
For the explanation of tragic myth the very first requirement is that the pleasure which characterises it must be sought in the purely æsthetic sphere, without encroaching on the domain of pity, fear, or the morally-sublime.
Page 118
Hence, in order to form a true estimate of the Dionysian capacity of a people, it would seem that we must think not only of their music, but just as much of their tragic myth, the second witness of this capacity.
Page 122
Not in order to get rid of terror and pity, not to purify from a dangerous passion by its vehement discharge (it was thus that Aristotle misunderstood it); but, beyond terror and pity, _to realise in fact_ the eternal delight of becoming, that delight which even involves in itself the _joy of annihilating!_[1] In this sense I have the right to understand myself to be the first _tragic philosopher_--that is, the utmost antithesis and antipode to a pessimistic philosopher.