Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 110

cried with one voice out of

Ye daring ones around me! Ye venturers and adventurers, and whoever
of you have embarked with cunning sails on unexplored seas! Ye

Solve unto me the enigma that I then beheld, interpret unto me the
vision of the lonesomest one!

For it was a vision and a foresight:--WHAT did I then behold in parable?
And WHO is it that must come some day?

WHO is the shepherd into whose throat the serpent thus crawled? WHO is
the man into whose throat all the heaviest and blackest will thus crawl?

--The shepherd however bit as my cry had admonished him; he bit with a
strong bite! Far away did he spit the head of the serpent--: and sprang

No longer shepherd, no longer man--a transfigured being, a
light-surrounded being, that LAUGHED! Never on earth laughed a man as HE

O my brethren, I heard a laughter which was no human laughter,--and now
gnaweth a thirst at me, a longing that is never allayed.

My longing for that laughter gnaweth at me: oh, how can I still endure
to live! And how could I endure to die at present!--

Thus spake Zarathustra.


With such enigmas and bitterness in his heart did Zarathustra sail o'er
the sea. When, however, he was four day-journeys from the Happy
Isles and from his friends, then had he surmounted all his pain--:
triumphantly and with firm foot did he again accept his fate. And then
talked Zarathustra in this wise to his exulting conscience:

Alone am I again, and like to be so, alone with the pure heaven, and the
open sea; and again is the afternoon around me.

On an afternoon did I find my friends for the first time; on an
afternoon, also, did I find them a second time:--at the hour when all
light becometh stiller.

For whatever happiness is still on its way 'twixt heaven and earth, now
seeketh for lodging a luminous soul: WITH HAPPINESS hath all light now
become stiller.

O afternoon of my life! Once did my happiness also descend to the valley
that it might seek a lodging: then did it find those open hospitable

O afternoon of my life! What did I not surrender that I might have
one thing: this living plantation of my thoughts, and this dawn of my
highest hope!

Companions did the creating one once seek, and children of HIS hope: and
lo, it turned out that he could not find them, except he himself should
first create them.

Thus am I in the midst of my work, to my children going, and from
them returning:

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

Page 3
was laid up with concussion of the brain, and, after a lingering illness, which lasted eleven months, he died on the 30th of July 1849.
Page 11
To this is opposed the second point of view--art regarded as a phenomenon of the artist, above all of the musician; the torture of being obliged to create, as a Dionysian instinct.
Page 13
A few weeks later: and he found himself under the walls of Metz, still wrestling with the notes of interrogation he had set down concerning the alleged "cheerfulness" of the Greeks and of Greek art; till at last, in that month of deep suspense, when peace was debated at Versailles, he too attained to peace with himself, and, slowly recovering from a disease brought home from the field, made up his mind definitely regarding the "Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of _Music.
Page 25
Of her own accord earth proffers her gifts, and peacefully the beasts of prey approach from the desert and the rocks.
Page 31
The Homeric "naïveté" can be comprehended only as the complete triumph of the Apollonian illusion: it is the same kind of illusion as Nature so frequently employs to compass her ends.
Page 35
Hence our æsthetics must first solve the problem as to how the "lyrist" is possible as an artist: he who according to the experience of all ages continually says "I" and sings off to us the entire chromatic scale of his passions and desires.
Page 40
Melody generates the poem out of itself by an ever-recurring process.
Page 50
Thus, then, originates the fantastic figure, which seems so shocking, of the wise and enthusiastic satyr, who is at the same time "the dumb man" in contrast to the god: the image of Nature and her strongest impulses, yea, the symbol of Nature, and at the same time the herald of her art and wisdom: musician,.
Page 66
The poet of the dramatised epos cannot completely blend with his pictures any more than the epic rhapsodist.
Page 67
Nothing could be more opposed to the technique of our stage than the prologue in the drama of Euripides.
Page 77
Page 79
For the periphery of the circle of science has an infinite number of points, and while there is still no telling how this circle can ever be completely measured, yet the noble and gifted man, even before the middle of his career, inevitably comes into contact with those extreme points of the periphery where he stares at the inexplicable.
Page 80
I will speak only of the _Most Illustrious Opposition_ to the tragic conception of things--and by this I mean essentially optimistic science, with its ancestor Socrates at the head of it.
Page 91
Now, we must not hide from ourselves what is concealed in the heart of this Socratic culture: Optimism, deeming itself absolute! Well, we must not be alarmed if the fruits of this optimism ripen,--if society, leavened to the very lowest strata by this kind of culture, gradually begins to tremble through wanton agitations and desires, if the belief in the earthly happiness of all, if the belief in the possibility of such a general intellectual culture is gradually transformed into the threatening demand for such an Alexandrine earthly happiness, into the conjuring of a Euripidean _deus ex machina.
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 102
Tragedy sits in the midst of this exuberance of life, sorrow and joy, in sublime ecstasy; she listens to a distant doleful song--it tells of the Mothers of Being, whose names are: _Wahn, Wille, Wehe_[21]--Yes, my friends, believe with me in Dionysian life and in the re-birth of tragedy.
Page 103
Tragedy sets a.
Page 106
And while music thus compels us to see more extensively and more intrinsically than usual, and makes us spread out the curtain of the scene before ourselves like some delicate texture, the world of the stage is as infinitely expanded for our spiritualised, introspective eye as it is illumined outwardly from within.
Page 116
Now let this phenomenon of the æsthetic spectator be transferred to an analogous process in the tragic artist, and the genesis of _tragic myth_ will have been understood.
Page 123
_ A psychologist might still add that what I heard in my younger years in Wagnerian music had in general naught to do with Wagner; that when I described Wagnerian music I described what _I_ had heard, that I had instinctively to translate and transfigure all into the new spirit which I bore within myself.