The Genealogy of Morals The Complete Works, Volume Thirteen, edited by Dr. Oscar Levy.

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 92

congestion and organisation of
the sick (the word "Church" is the most popular name for it): on the
other, a kind of provisional safeguarding of the comparatively healthy,
the more perfect specimens, the cleavage of a _rift_ between healthy
and sick--for a long time that was all! and it was much! it was very
much!

I am proceeding, as you see, in this essay, from an hypothesis which,
as far as such readers as I want are concerned, does not require to be
proved; the hypothesis that "sinfulness" in man is not an actual fact,
but rather merely the interpretation of a fact, of a physiological
discomfort,--a discomfort seen through a moral religious perspective
which is no longer binding upon us. The fact, therefore, that any one
feels "guilty," "sinful," is certainly not yet any proof that he is
right in feeling so, any more than any one is healthy simply because
he feels healthy. Remember the celebrated witch-ordeals: in those days
the most acute and humane judges had no doubt but that in these cases
they were confronted with guilt,--the "witches"_ themselves had no
doubt on the point_,--and yet the guilt was lacking. Let me elaborate
this hypothesis: I do not for a minute accept the very "pain in the
soul" as a real fact, but only as an explanation (a casual explanation)
of facts that could not hitherto be precisely formulated; I regard
it therefore as something as yet absolutely in the air and devoid of
scientific cogency--just a nice fat word in the place of a lean note
of interrogation. When any one fails to get rid of his "pain in the
soul," the cause is, speaking crudely, to be found _not_ in his "soul"
but more probably in his stomach (speaking crudely, I repeat, but by
no means wishing thereby that you should listen to me or understand
me in a crude spirit). A strong and well-constituted man digests his
experiences (deeds and misdeeds all included) just as he digests his
meats, even when he has some tough morsels to swallow. If he fails to
"relieve himself" of an experience, this kind of indigestion is quite
as much physiological as the other indigestion--and indeed, in more
ways than one, simply one of the results of the other. You can adopt
such a theory, and yet _entre nous_ be nevertheless the strongest
opponent of all materialism.


17.

But is he really a _physician_, this ascetic priest? We already
understand why we are scarcely allowed to call him a physician, however
much he likes to feel a "saviour" and let himself be worshipped as a
saviour.[3] It

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Text Comparison with Thoughts out of Season, Part I

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It were well for us to bear in mind that we are not altogether free to dispose of Nietzsche's attitude to Wagner, at any given period in their relationship, with a single sentence of praise or of blame.
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423-24).
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Page 52
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A moment's halt in the library, and the music-room suffices to show us what we had expected all along, namely, that the best books lay on the shelves, and that the most famous musical compositions were in the music-cabinets.
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You are beginning to realise that I regard him as a mummer who would parade as an artless genius and classical writer.
Page 76
I may succeed in showing what it is that inspires, in the hearts of modern Germans, such faith in this great and seductive stylist Strauss: I refer to his eccentricities of expression, which, in the barren waste and dryness of his whole book, jump out at one, not perhaps as pleasant but as painfully stimulating, surprises.
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Page 101
If one examines a little more closely the impression which this vehement and kaleidoscopic play of colours makes upon one, does not the whole seem to blaze with the shimmer and sparkle of innumerable little stones borrowed from former civilisations? Is not everything one sees merely a complex of inharmonious bombast, aped gesticulations, arrogant superficiality?--a ragged suit of motley for the naked and the shivering? A seeming dance of joy enjoined upon a sufferer? Airs of overbearing pride assumed by one who is sick to the backbone? And the whole moving with such rapidity and confusion that it is disguised and masked-- sordid impotence, devouring dissension, assiduous ennui, dishonest distress! The appearance of present-day humanity is all appearance, and nothing else: in what he now represents man himself has become obscured and concealed; and the vestiges of the creative faculty in art, which still cling to such countries as France and Italy, are all concentrated upon this one task of concealing.
Page 103
He, however, who feels genuine and fruitful life in him, which at present can only be described by the one term "Music," could he allow himself to be deceived for one moment into nursing solid hopes by this something which exhausts all its energy in producing figures, forms, and styles? He stands above all such vanities, and as little expects to meet with artistic wonders outside his ideal world of sound as with great writers bred on our effete and discoloured language.
Page 117
Through his compassion for the people, he became a revolutionist.
Page 118
" These were his questions in Tannhauser and Lohengrin, in these operas he looked about him for his equals --the anchorite yearned for the number.