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access to The Journal of Modern History
Allan Megill
University of Virginia
In short, what the old philologist says on the basis of the entire
philological experience [is]: there is no one true interpretation,
neither for poets, nor for musicians (a poet is absolutely no
authority on the sense of his verses: we have the most miraculous
evidence of how fluid and vague "meaning" is for them).
(FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE)'
* This review article examines a selection of books on Nietzsche published in 1988 and aft
The 1988 starting date is arbitrary, and the choice, from a much larger universe, of the follow
books for notice is at least partly so: Keith Ansell-Pearson, Nietzsche Contra Rousseau: A Study
of Nietzsche's Moral and Political Thought (Cambridge, 1991); Steven E. Aschheim, The
Nietzsche Legacy in Germany, 1890-1990 (Berkeley, 1992); Ernst Behler, Confrontations:
Derrida/Heidegger/Nietzsche, trans., with an afterword, by Steven Taubeneck (Stanford, Calif.,
1991); Maudemarie Clark, Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy (Cambridge, 1990); Adrian Del
Caro, Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche: Creativity and the Anti-Romantic (Baton Rouge, La., 1989);
Bruce Detwiler, Nietzsche and the Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism (Chicago, 1990); Michael
Allen Gillespie and Tracy B. Strong, eds., Nietzsche's New Seas: Explorations in Philosophy,
Aesthetics, and Politics (Chicago, 1988); Lester H. Hunt, Nietzsche and the Origin of Virtue
(London, 1991); Joachim Kohler, Zarathustras Geheimnis: Friedrich Nietzsche und seine
verschliisselte Botschaft (Nordlingen, 1989); Clayton Koelb, ed., Nietzsche as Postmodernist:
Essays Pro and Contra (Albany, N.Y., 1990); Bernd Magnus, Stanley Stewart, and Jean-Pierre
Mileur, Nietzsche's Case: Philosophy as/and Literature (New York, 1993); Alistair Moles,
Nietzsche's Philosophy of Nature and Cosmology (New York, 1990); Ernst Nolte, Nietzsche und
der Nietzscheanismus (Frankfurt, 1990); Carl Pletsch, Young Nietzsche: Becoming a Genius (New
York, 1991); Alan D. Schrift, Nietzsche and the Question of Interpretation: Between Hermeneu-
tics and Deconstruction (New York, 1990), Gary Shapiro, Alcyone: Nietzsche on Gifts, Noise, and
Women (Albany, N.Y., 1991); Gary Shapiro, Nietzschean Narratives (Bloomington, Ind., 1989);
Peter Sloterdijk, Thinker on Stage: Nietzsche's Materialism, trans. Jamie Owen Daniel, foreword
by Jochen Schulte-Sasse (Minneapolis, 1989); Robert C. Solomon and Kathleen M. Higgins, eds.,
Reading Nietzsche (New York, 1988); Henry Staten, Nietzsche's Voice (Ithaca, N.Y., 1990); Seth
Taylor, Left-Wing Nietzscheanism: The Politics of German Expressionism, 1910-1920 (Berlin,
1990); Leslie Paul Thiele, Friedrich Nietzsche and the Politics of the Soul: A Study of Heroic
Individualism (Princeton, N.J., 1990); Mark Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought (Cam-
bridge, Mass., 1988); Alan White, Within Nietzsche's Labyrinth (New York, 1990); and Julian
Young, Nietzsche's Philosophy of Art (Cambridge, 1992). Drafts of this article were read, in part
or whole, by Alon Confino, Malachi Hacohen, John Holloran, Robert Holub, Janet Lungstrum,
George Mosse, Kelly Mulroney, Richard Rorty, Richard Schacht, Alan Schrift, Spencer Smith,
Walter Sokel, and Harwell Wells, among others. I thank my readers for their comments and regret
my inability to solve all problems.
1 Letter from Nietzsche to Carl Fuchs, August 26, 1888, translated and quoted by Ernst Behler,
Confrontations: Derrida/Heidegger/Nietzsche, trans., with an afterword, by Steven Taubeneck
The literature on Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) is huge and growing.3 But the
size of the literature is of less interest than its diversity, which mirrors a diversity
in the Nietzsche corpus itself. One aim of the present essay is to inform readers
of the complex historical object, "Nietzsche," revealed by the nineteenth-century
texts and by the extant commentary on those texts. But this aim alone would not
justify a detailed examination of the Nietzsche literature here. A more compre-
hensive aim is to meditate on the problem of "historicization"-the problem, that
is, of accommodating an object to historical thinking. From a historiographical
point of view, Nietzsche is a hard case. He is so because historical thinking has not
been comfortable with multiplicity of meaning, and multiplicity of meaning
pervades Nietzsche's work and personae. The ideal of modem Western historiog-
raphy, having deep roots in the Western tradition, is convergence toward a single
authoritative account, or at least toward a single authoritative way of thinking.4
The ideal is not well accommodated to "the case of Nietzsche." It seems clear that
the tendency of historians in general and of intellectual historians in particular is
to think of the meanings they seek to describe or explain as relatively unambigu-
ous. Historians seem less well equipped than they might be to deal with
multiplicity of meaning. This is one reason why professional historians (of the
generic sort, rather than historians of art, music, and the like) hardly ever confront
complex aesthetic works. Nietzsche's claim (which is manifestly applicable to his
own textual project) that "there is no one true interpretation, neither for poets, nor
for musicians" and his presentation of self as embodying a "multiplicity of inward
states" and a "most multifarious art of style" suggest his status as a hard case.5 He
seems to stand opposed to the view that there is a single "true sense" to be
discovered.6
(Stanford, Calif., 1991), p. 87, from Friedrich Nietzsche, Briefwechsel: Kritische Gesamtausgabe,
ed. Giorgio Colli and Mazzino Montinari, 17 vols. (Berlin, 1975-93), 111-5:400.
2 Friedrich Nietzsche, Ecce Homo: How One Becomes What One Is (1888), "Why I Write Su
Good Books," sec. 4, in his Basic Writings, ed. and trans. Walter Kaufmann (New York, 1968).
3 For a brief overview of part of the territory, see Steven Taubeneck, "Nietzsche in North
America: Walter Kaufmann and After," in Behler, pp. 159-77. A useful bibliography is North
American Nietzsche Society, Nietzsche Scholarship in English: A Bibliography, 1968-1992,
comp. B. Bryan Hilliard, with a foreword by Richard Schacht, Nietzscheana no. 2 (Urbana, Ill.,
1992), corrected and extended by Nietzsche Scholarship in English: A Bibliography, 1968-1992,
Supplement, comp. B. Bryan Hilliard and Earl Nitschke, Nietzscheana no. 3 (Urbana, Ill., 1993).
4 As I argue in my " 'Grand Narrative' and the Discipline of History," in A New Philosophy
of History, ed. Frank Ankersmit and Hans Kellner (Chicago, 1995), pp. 151-73, 263-71.
5 For an account of some parallel hard cases in art history, see James Elkins, "On Monstrously
Ambiguous Paintings," History and Theory 32 (1993): 227-47.
6 See, e.g., Francis Lieber, Legal and Political Hermeneutics, or Principles of Interpretation
and Construction in Law and Politics, enlarged ed. (Boston, 1839): "No sentence, or form of
So that the reader will have some sense of the particularity of the object with
which we are here concerned, I begin with an account of one (among many) places
where Nietzsche apparently leaves his text open to a plurality of interpretations.
Next, I reflect on the implications of this plurality for the problem of "historiciz-
ing" Nietzsche-by which I mean the problem of subjecting him to the procedures
and preferred schemata of professional historians of the generic type. (I shall
henceforth refer to them as "disciplinary" historians.) Following that, in the most
extensive part of this article I canvass the Nietzsche literature itself. Here I
examine four approaches evident in the recent literature. Finally, and briefly, I
discuss some more general implications of the problems one encounters in the
attempt to historicize Nietzsche.
I. NIETZSCHE'S AMBIGUITY
words, can have more than one 'true sense,' and this is the only one we have to inquire for. This
is the very basis of all interpretation. Interpretation without it has no meaning. Every man or body
of persons, making use of words, does so, in order to convey a certain meaning; and to find this
precise meaning is the object of all interpretation" (p. 86). To be sure, one could argue that radical
ambiguity is the "true sense" of Nietzsche-discovering, i.e., a single meaning, but finding it to
be equivocal. But such a move does not come to grips with what I take to be the
self-deconstructive radicality of Nietzsche's project.
7 Walter Kaufmann, Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist (1950), 4th ed. (Prince-
ton, N.J., 1974).
8 For the contention that Nietzsche's work is coherent and unambiguous, see ibid., pp. 8,
12-18, 74-76, and elsewhere; for will to power as self-overcoming, see pp. 200-207, 211-27,
and elsewhere.
9 Walter H. Sokel, "Political Uses and Abuses of Nietzsche in Walter Kaufmann's Image of
Nietzsche," Nietzsche-Studien 12 (1983): 436-42, at 438-42.
The Kaufmann era in Nietzsche interpretation is long over. In the early 1970s,
new interpretations of Nietzsche emerged that differed from Kaufmann's inter-
pretation in two important respects: first, they no longer tried to show that
Nietzsche's work formed a coherent whole; and second, they greatly emphasized
the textual complexity of that work, finding in it a richness and density that in their
view made it difficult to see the text as offering a single, determinate meaning.
Although it would be incorrect to say that most current interpreters of Nietzsche
advance these views, emphasis on the multiplicity and textual complexity of
Nietzsche's work is the most distinctive feature of Nietzsche interpretation in the
last twenty years.'0
Kaufmann insisted that Nietzsche's contradictions are only apparent and
disappear when one reads him properly." Many of Nietzsche's more recent
interpreters are far less confident that this is so. Some do retain the hope of
offering a "general" interpretation, but the more canny among them are careful to
emphasize how much any such interpretation leaves out. A key term is "fragmen-
tation."''2 Already in 1936, an "old" Nietzsche interpreter, Karl Jaspers, claimed
that "self-contradiction is the fundamental ingredient in Nietzsche's thought." '3
In the "new" Nietzsche interpretation, the sense that Nietzsche's work is not
subject to a single, overarching interpretation is closely tied to something absent
from Jaspers's discussion-namely, an emphasis on textual complexity.
The problem for the historian (and not only the historian) is how to come to
grips with the multiplicity and the textual complexity. Note again Nietzsche's
claim in his autobiography, Ecce Homo, to embrace a "multiplicity of inward
states" and to be the practitioner of "the most multifarious art of style."
Admittedly, in The Case of Wagner (also 1888) Nietzsche links fragmentation
("an anarchy of atoms") with "literary decadence," which might lead one to think
that he rejected fragmentation, for surely "decadence" is bad.14 But Nietzsche
writes in Ecce Homo that "apart from the fact that I am a decadent, I am also the
10 For a brief account, see Taubeneck, pp. 165-77. For more extended reflections on what has
sometimes been called "the new Nietzsche," see Behler, pp. 49-76 and 107-36; and Alan D.
Schrift, Nietzsche and the Question of Interpretation: Between Hermeneutics and Deconstruction
(New York, 1990), pp. 77-119. An early manifestation of "the new Nietzsche" was Centre
culturel international de Cerisy-la-Salle, Nietzsche aujourd'hui? 2 vols. (Paris, 1973). See also
David B. Allison, ed., The New Nietzsche: Contemporary Styles of Interpretation (New York,
1977).
1 l Kaufmann, p. 14.
12 See Maurice Blanchot, "Nietzsche and Fragmentary Writing," in his The Infinite Conver-
sation (1969), trans. Susan Hanson (Minneapolis, 1993), pp. 151-70, discussed by Behler (n. 1
above), pp. 14-15.
13 Karl Jaspers, Nietzsche: An Introduction to the Understanding of His Philosophical Ac
trans. Charles F. Wallraff and Frederick J. Schmitz (Tucson, Az., 1965), p. 10. Jaspers went on to
draw the conclusion that the interpreter of Nietzsche should be "forever dissatisfied until he has
also found the contradiction" to any assertion that Nietzsche makes. Jaspers's formulation is
excessive, but one can extract from it an indispensable methodological warning, namely, that one
is not justified in making the claim, "Nietzsche held that X is the case," unless one has canvassed
all the passages in his corpus in which the topic in question is addressed.
14 According to Friedrich Nietzsche, in literary decadence "life no longer dwells in the whole.
The word becomes sovereign and leaps out of the sentence, the sentence reaches out and obscures
stands altogether apart. Leaving aside the poets: perhaps nothing has ever been done
from an equal excess of strength.... That a Goethe, a Shakespeare, would be unable
to breathe even for a moment in this tremendous passion and height, that Dante is,
compared with Zarathustra, merely a believer and not one who first creates truth, a
the meaning of the page, the page gains life at the expense of the whole" (The Case of Wagner:
Turinese Letter of May 1888, sec. 7, in Nietzsche, Basic Writings [n. 2 above]).
'S Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, "Morality as Anti-Nature," sec. 3, in The Porta
Nietzsche, trans. Walter Kaufmann (New York, 1968). The translation is altered by me to bring
it closer to the original German.
16 Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (1886), trans. Walter Kaufmann, sec. 284, in
Nietzsche, Basic Writings. Compare the following Nachlaf3 fragment of 1885: "When I was
young, I met up with a dangerous deity, and I wouldn't like to tell anyone what then passed
through my mind, neither of the good nor of the evil things. So I learned at times to be silent; that
a person with backgrounds must have foregrounds, be it for himself or for others: because
foregrounds are necessary for one to recover from oneself, and to make it possible for others to
live with us" (Friedrich Nietzsche, Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, ed. Giorgio Colli and
Mazzino Montinari, 25+ vols. [Berlin, 1967-], VII-3:218, no. 9506, my translation).
world-governing spirit, a destiny-that the poets of the Veda are priests and not even
worthy of tying the shoelaces of a Zarathustra-that is the least thing and gives no idea
of the distance, of the azure solitude in which this work lives. ("Zarathustra," sec. 6)
How ought one to read these passages? They are problematic, for in them
Nietzsche appears to be making some utterly unreasonable claims. If someone
came to me and declared, "I am no man, I am dynamite, I break the history
of humankind in two," I would doubt that person's sanity. In the "case" of
Nietzsche, the author is no longer available to be examined (perhaps in some
ways he was never available, not even to himself). I want to consider briefly
four different ways of reading the above passages: straightforwardly, parodi-
cally, self-parodically, or in some combination of the preceding three.'7
Behind each way of reading stands a different account of why Nietzsche wrote
passages of this sort and a different interpretation of Nietzsche's project
generally:
a) A straightforward reading. The straightforward reading takes Nietz-
sche's words at face value. One assumes that Nietzsche really believed that
Thus Spoke Zarathustra was superior to the Veda and to the works of Dante,
Shakespeare, and Goethe, that (properly understood) it would transform all
language and experience, and that it marked a crisis that explodes all human
history, or at least breaks it in two. Who could believe such claims? Only a
madman: a megalomaniac.'8 Nietzsche went insane in early January 1889. If
read straightforwardly, the above statements suggest that he was already
showing signs of insanity in November 1888, when he wrote Ecce Homo.
Thus the philosopher Julian Young, a relentlessly straightforward reader,
declares in Nietzsche's Philosophy of Art that Ecce Homo is "a mendacious,
deluded book" (p. 2).'9
b) A parodic reading. Alternatively, one can read the passages parodi-
cally, implying a critical attitude toward what is being parodized. There is
17 I do not mean to suggest that these are the only ways of reading the passages. The point is
not how many or which but, rather, that there is more than one and that the choice between them
is not readily determinable.
18 The diagnosis was first made by Nietzsche's teachei Friedrich Ritschl, in a diary entry in
which he reacted to Nietzsche's high opinion of The Birth of Tragedy (1872; quoted in Ronald
Hayman, Nietzsche: A Critical Life [Harmondsworth, 1982], p. 146). The historian Heinrich von
Treitschke also attributed Gro,8/enwahn- "the most contemporary of burdens"-to Nietzsche, in
a letter of September 11, 1881, to Nietzsche's former Basel colleague (and continuing friend), the
historian of religion Franz Overbeck (Heinrich von Treitschke, Briefe, ed. Max Cornicelius, 3
vols. [Leipzig, 1913-19], 3:535).
19 Walter Kaufmann acknowledges the apparently mad aspects of Ecce Homo while deft
discounting them: "Of Nietzsche's last works, none has proved harder to understand than
Homo. The self-portrait is not naturalistic; hence, it was widely felt, it is clearly insane and to
disregarded. This prevalent view is ... false. The lack of naturalism is not proof of insanity bu
a triumph of style-of a piece with the best paintings of that time.... Nietzsche should be
compared with van Gogh" ("Editor's Introduction" to Ecce Homo, sec. 1, in Nietzsche, Bas
Writings, p. 658).
internal evidence that supports our seeing Ecce Homo as, specifically, a
parody of Christianity: for example, Pontius Pilate spoke the words "Ecce
homo" (Behold the man) in introducing Jesus to the people (John 19:5), and
the claim that Zarathustra was the "greatest gift" echoes the Christian view
that Jesus was God's greatest gift. There is also evidence outside Ecce Homo,
from Nietzsche's writings of 1886 and after, showing his concern with parody.
Most strikingly, the first section of the preface (written 1886) to the second
edition of The Gay Science concludes with the words "incipit parodia": the
parody begins.20 If Nietzsche is engaged, in Ecce Homo, in parody, one can
acquit him of the megalomania suggested by the straightforward reading.
c) A self-parodic reading. There is some reason, however, to think that
Nietzsche is actually engaged not in parody but in self-parody. In self-parody,
the parodist parodizes himself, adopting a critical stance with regard to his
own parodic enterprise. Nietzschean self-parody-if self-parody it is-
connects with his attitude toward his erstwhile hero, Richard Wagner. In
Nietzsche devoted much thought to Wagner: he wrote The Case of Wagner and
compiled another book, Nietzsche Contra Wagner, and Wagner is present as a
preoccupation in Ecce Homo. Nietzsche's break with Wagner occurred in
1878. Nietzsche had long chafed under Wagner's sublime assumption that
Nietzsche should be merely a publicist for the Wagnerian cause. In 1876
Nietzsche had been offended by the vulgarity of the newly established
Bayreuth Festival. He was even more offended by Wagner's final composi-
tion, Parsifal: retelling the Grail story, it capitulated, in Nietzsche's view, to
the Christian moral system. Although Parsifal was first performed only in
1882, Wagner had already spoken of the work, and of his religious experi-
ences, to a distressed Nietzsche in October 1876, and he sent Nietzsche the
20 Friedrich Nietzsche, preface to The Gay Science, 2d ed., trans. Walter Kaufmann (New York,
1974), sec. 1. The term Parodie or its cognates appears thirty times in the critical edition of
Nietzsche's works. In the period 1869-76 they appear eighteen times, invariably used in either
a neutral, descriptive way or negatively. In Assorted Opinions and Maxims (1878) and The
Wanderer and His Shadow (1879), they appear in a positive sense, as something to be practiced.
They are absent from Daybreak (1881) and from the first edition of The Gay Science
(1882)-perhaps because of Nietzsche's hope in this period that a real liberation might be
possible (I speculate, in part prompted by Joachim Kohler, Zarathustras Geheimnis: Friedrich
Nietzsche und seine verschliisselte Botschaft [Nordlingen, 1989], discussed in Sec. IIIA below).
But Thus Spoke Zarathustra (1883-84) is clearly parodic, and the terms reappear, positively, in
Nietzsche's works and Nachlaf3 of late 1886 through 1888. See Nietzsche, Werke: Kritische
Gesamtausgabe. I am indebted to Malcolm Brown, director of Academic Computing at
Dartmouth College, who entered the Werke into a data base and did a search for all occurrences
of Parodie and its cognates therein. De Gruyter and InteLex have jointly published an electronic
Nietzsches Werke: Historisch-Kritische Ausgabe, which includes Nietzsche's published works as
they appear in de Gruyter's Kritische Studienausgabe, although following the chronological ordering
as found in the Kritische Gesamtausgabe. There is hope that the Kritische Gesamtausgabe itself,
which includes both published works and Nachlaf,g will also appear in electronic form (personal
communication from Mark Rooks of InteLex, October 1995 [70671.1673@compuserve.com]).
text in early 1878. For his part, Wagner was offended by the too-independent
Human, All Too Human (1878).
In Toward the Genealogy of Morals (1887), Nietzsche asks whether Wagner
meant Parsifal "seriously": "One might be tempted to suppose the reverse,
even to desire it-that the Wagnerian Parsifal was intended as a joke, as a
kind of epilogue and satyr play with which the tragedian Wagner wanted to
take leave of us, also of himself, above all of tragedy in a fitting manner
worthy of himself, namely with an extravagance of wanton parody of the
tragic itself.... Is Wagner's Parsifal his secret laughter of superiority at
himself, the triumph of his ultimate artist's freedom and artist's transcen-
dence? One could wish that it were.",2' If one were to interpret Ecce Homo in
the light of what Nietzsche writes in Toward the Genealogy of Morals about
Parsifal, Ecce Homo would appear not as a parody of Christianity but as a
parody of Nietzsche parodying Christianity. Having passed from tragedy to
parody, Nietzsche now goes a step further and plays the role of the "great
tragedian" who engages in a "secret laughter" at himself and his art.22 In
other words, the passages from Ecce Homo should be seen as self-parody.
Further, retroactively if not in its original intent, Thus Spoke Zarathustra
would also appear as self-parody.
d) Some combination of the above. But why should one think that
Nietzsche intended his words to be read in only one of the preceding ways?
He could equally well have intended them to be read in various ways-as, say,
both straightforward and parodic. There seems to be no certain way of
deciding between the four (or more) different readings.
21 Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals, Third Essay, sec. 3, in Nietzsche, Basic Writings.
22 I owe this suggestion to Joshua Himwich. Bernd Magnus, Stanley Stewart, and Jean-Pierre
Mileur make a closely similar suggestion in Nietzsche's Case: Philosophy as/and Literature (New
York, 1993), pp. 106, 217.
23 For the categories used here, see Allan Megill, "Recounting the Past: 'Description,'
Explanation, and Narrative in Historiography," American Historical Review 94 (1989): 627-53.
her within its appropriate historical context. Context offers a means of controlling
description, eliminating descriptions that are implausible in the light of what we
know about that time and place. Historicizing Nietzsche would mean discovering
the context in terms of which his work should be read, which would allow us to
stabilize the description of his texts by offering a way of adjudicating between
competing readings, which would in turn help us to grasp his meaning for us, now.
But the form of Nietzsche's text and the character of his project make him
peculiarly resistant to this stabilizing enterprise. Part of the problem seems to be
that Nietzsche aimed at transforming his readers, so that, absent the transforma-
tion, something essential is missing. If free individual transformation is the
Nietzschean leitmotif, it is contradictory to the Nietzschean project to think of
history as a unity, and in consequence it is also contradictory to the project to think
of context in the singular. While nothing says that we ought to accept Nietzsche's
opinions in our examination of those opinions, the fact remains that Nietzsche's
project seems peculiarly resistant to historians' usual ways of thinking. Nietz-
sche's ambiguity makes him, for historians, a hard case.24
Accordingly, it might be concluded that Nietzsche ought not to be historicized
at all. This would not be an unusual conclusion, for disciplinary historians do leave
aside large areas of human experience. Given the aesthetic tenor of Nietzsche's
project-he does seem to have seen himself as an "artist philosopher" -it is
relevant to note again that disciplinary historians almost never choose to
investigate the complexities of artistic and literary works.25 Such works seem too
open to multiple interpretation, and too hard to connect in a well-established way
with social and political history, to lend themselves to disciplinary treatment. One
can think of the matter by visualizing two distinct and nonconvergent tracks: that
of sociopolitical events and existents and that of aesthetic products. For the most
part, disciplinary historians respond to the nonconvergence either by not dealing
with aesthetic products or by dealing with them in a reductive way: thus, in our
universities aesthetic products are almost always examined historically not in
history departments but in departments of literature, music, and art.26
Historicization is also made difficult by the fact that Nietzsche's texts breach the
boundaries of the historical discipline. Notoriously, in On the Uses and Disad-
vantages of History for Life (1874) Nietzsche attacked the ethos of academic
historiography.27 To subject Nietzsche to the procedures of professional histori-
ography without addressing his criticisms of that very tradition seems a strange
24 A less hard case is Sigmund Freud; see John E. Toews, "Historicizing Psychoanalysis: Freud
in His Time and for Our Time," Journal of Modern History 63 (1991): 504-45. But even here,
sensitive historical interpretation leads to a pluralization of what historians too often think of as
the context. The pluralization is manifested in Toews's viewing of Freud in terms of four distinct,
albeit connected, contexts, which, it seems, he does not hierarchize.
25 The quoted material is from Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power, trans. Walter Kaufmann
and R. J. Hollingdale (New York, 1968), sec. 795 (1885-86).
26 On the two tracks and the difficulty of relating them, see Martyn P. Thompson, "Receptio
Theory and the Interpretation of Historical Meaning," History and Theory 32 (1993): 248-72, at
250-51.
27 Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life, in his U
Meditations, trans. R. J. Hollingdale, with an introduction by J. P Stern (Cambridge, 1983), pp
28 What passes for "doing theory" within the discipline is usually a matter of retail
claims of some favored theorist.
29 Kaufmann (n. 7 above), pp. 24-25.
30 Alexander Nehamas, Nietzsche: Life as Literature (Cambridge, Mass., 1985), pp. 1-4 and
passim. Nehamas's book, which presents in an unequivocal manner an interesting thesis-namely,
that Nietzsche was an "aestheticist"-is, among recent works, the one that is most widely and
vigorously discussed by current contributors to the literature.
A. Biographical/Contextual Studies
3' Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (n. 16 above), secs. 25, 284, 40.
32 Nietzsche, The Gay Science (n. 20 above), sec. 365.
33 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, sec. 6.
34 Friedrich Nietzsche, "Assorted Opinions and Maxims," in his Human, All Too Human: A
Book for Free Spirits, trans. R. J. Hollingdale, introduction by Erich Heller (Cambridge, 1986),
sec. 129.
many known facts of Nietzsche's life one might be able to say new things that are
also important and true.35
The difficulty of moving from "life and works" to "wider context" is likewise
great. In his nicely titled Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche, Adrian Del Caro puts his
finger on an important aspect of the difficulty when he notes Nietzsche's
relation-or nonrelation-to the notion of a historical generation. The generation,
for Dilthey, "is formed of an intimate circle of individuals who, through
dependence on the same great facts and changes which appeared during the age of
their impressionability are bound as a whole in spite of the difference of other
factors."36 Historians, especially intellectual historians, have often found the
concept of the generation useful for their contextualizing efforts.37 But as Del
Caro points out, Nietzsche does not readily fit into a "generation": he was
"'untimely' . . . by strict choice and as a matter of principle" (p. 3). In conse-
quence, the attempt to locate him within a generation tends to normalize and
familiarize a figure who is distinctly nonnormal and unfamiliar.38
In the face of these difficulties, how do the recent biographical/contextual
studies fare? Two studies, Carl Pletsch's Young Nietzsche: Becoming a Genius and
Joachim Kohler's Zarathustras Geheimnis: Friedrich Nietzsche und seine ver-
schliisselte Botschaft, provide an occasion for reflecting on both the general
problem of historicization and the specific problem of understanding Nietzsche.
Significantly, both are primarily biographical studies, their exposition of wider
contexts subordinated to the exposition of a life.
39 For example, see Carl Pletsch, Young Nietzsche: Becoming a Genius (New York, 1991),
p. 78; Hayman, p. 11; and Janz, 1:173-74.
40 Federn's assertions are reported in Herman Hunberg and Ernst Federn, eds., Protokoll
Wiener Psychoanalytischen Vereinigung, 4 vols. (Frankfurt, 1976), 1:337.
41 Kohler takes issue with Martin Gregor-Dellin, Richard Wagner: His Life, His Work, His
Century, trans. J. Maxwell Brownjohn (London, 1983), pp. 452-56; and Janz, 2:173-74, both of
whom maintain that Wagner was not accusing Nietzsche of having homosexual tendencies
(Kohler [n. 20 above], p. 185). Nietzsche himself understood otherwise, seeing Wagner as
accusing him of "unnatural excesses, with hints of pederasty" (Nietzsche to Heinrich Koselitz
[Peter Gast], April 21, 1883, in Nietzsche, Briefwechsel: Kritische Gesamtausgabe 111-1:365).
42 Ludwig von Scheffler, "Wie ich Nietzsche kennen lernte," Neue Freie Presse (Vienna),
August 6 and 7, 1907, in Sander L. Gilman, ed., Conversations with Nietzsche, trans. David J.
Parent (New York, 1987), pp. 63-76, at p. 71. (Incidentally, the print in question is no longer
regarded as a self-portrait.)
43 Ibid., p. 74.
44 Paul Ree to Nietzsche, October 10, 1877, in Nietzsche, Briefwechsel (n. 1 above), 11-6/2:
717, quoted by Kohler, p. 259. On Bex, see Karl Baedeker, Switzerland and the Adjacent Portions
of Italy, Savoy, and the Tyrol: Handbook for Travellers, 9th ed. (Leipzig, 1881), pp. 230-31.
Kohler holds that the section on "the blessed isles," where Zarathustra speaks o
the creation of the overman, evokes the vision of unconstrained male beauty tha
Nietzsche felt he had seen in the south generally and in Sicily in particular
(pp. 461-66).48 In Kohler's view, Zarathustra's well-known allusion to "hotter
souths than artists ever dreamed of, where gods in their dances are ashamed of all
clothes," has a quite literal referent.49 In sum, Zarathustra is a "soul and body
striptease" (p. 577) in which Nietzsche reveals his own conflicted desires-his
Unbehagen (discomfort) at living constrainedly within a still-Christian society, his
feelings of pain and horror (going back, indeed, to early childhood), and his
longing for beauty and friendship.
Various aspects of Nietzsche's work can be read as confirmations of Kohler's
thesis. Above all, might Nietzsche's attack on morality be a cunning attempt to
"de-moralize" acts that in common morality were regarded with horror? In
Toward the Genealogy of Morals Nietzsche writes that "man's 'sinfulness' is not
a fact but merely the interpretation of a fact"; in Beyond Good and Evil he
declares that "there are no moral phenomena at all, only a moral interpretation of
phenomena."50 Moreover, Nietzsche launched his attack on morality at the
beginning of the 1880s: his first important work along this line was Daybreak:
Thoughts on the Prejudices of Morality (1881). His timing might well be
explained as (in part) a consequence of his (alleged) Italian experience. Consider,
too, Nietzsche's reference in Daybreak to Greek art, "the soul of which
is-passion for naked male beauty." This could be taken as merely a statement of
fact, but after Kohler one is inclined to read it in a more engaged way.5' Consid
also Nietzsche's claim in Beyond Good and Evil that "the degree and kind of a
man's sexuality reaches up into the ultimate pinnacle of his spirit": What of
Nietzsche's sexuality? one now asks.52 Further, although there is no explicit
homoeroticism in The Birth of Tragedy (1872), Nietzsche's image of the Greeks,
with its persistent strain of Dionysian Orgiasmus (countered by what one might
take as the closeting moment of Apollonian formalism), is consistent with
48 Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, pt. 2, "Upon the Blessed Isles," in The Portable
Nietzsche (n. 15 above).
49 Ibid., pt. 3, "On Old and New Tablets," sec. 2. See also the unpublished text, "Zarathustra
Heilige Gelachter," in the Nachla/3 for summer 1883, in Nietzsche, Werke (n. 16 above), VII-
435-64: here Zarathustra refers to his longing "for the most southerly," where one can find "th
naked model [Bild] of a God" (p. 463).
50 Nietzsche, The Genealogy of Morals, Third Essay, sec. 16, anid Beyond Good and Evil, sec
108.
51 Friedrich Nietzsche, Daybreak: Thoughts on the Prejudices of Morality, trans. R. J
Hollingdale, with an introduction by Michael Tanner (Cambridge, 1982), sec. 170. The
subsequent sentences, "It was only from that viewpoint that they were sensible of female beauty.
Thus their perspective on female beauty was quite different from ours," might then be seen as a
closeting move. See also Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human (n. 34 above), vol. 2, First Section,
sec. 218, where Nietzsche suggests that "for the modem man the Greeks facilitate the
communication of many things which are difficult or hazardous to communicate." Which things,
Fritz?
52 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, sec. 75. The passage first appears, in almost identical
form, in Nietzsche's Nachla/3 of summer-fall 1882, a fact that suggests that his concern with the
matter was persistent (see Werke, VII-1:86, nio. 275).
53 As Kaufmann (n. 7 above) did. Responding to Wilhelm Stekel's assertion of 1917 that there
was an "unconscious homosexual component" in Nietzsche, Kaufmann claimed to have access
to Nietzsche's erotic dreams-a God's-eye view indeed: "His intellectual celebrations of male
friendship notwithstanding, the overheated and strained heterosexual imagery of Zarathustra,
especially in its poems, and Nietzsche's later requests for women in the asylum seem proof that
his dreams were of women" (Kaufmann, p. 34, n. 10).
54 Draft letter from Nietzsche to Franz Overbeck, Nice, beginning of December 1883, in
Friedrich Nietzsche, Sdmtliche Briefe: Kritische Studienausgabe, 8 vols. (Berlin, 1986), 8:600.
The draft letter contradicts Bergmann's claim (n. 38 above) that by wintering in Nice (1884-85,
1887-88) Nietzsche was entering into "the hub of the new European social whirl" (p. 157), as
well as Bergmann's wider suggestion that, by wintering in the south, Nietzsche "accompanied the
locus of European power politics as it shifted southward to the Mediterranean basin" (p. 152). If
it was so, it was certainly not Nietzsche's intention.
and opaque, and the posited effort at concealment would plausibly explain why
this is so. But Zarathustra can be read in different and perhaps more rewarding
ways: for example, in the works of 1886-88 one finds traces-perhaps more than
traces-of a lighter, self-parodizing attitude (Sec. I above). It may be that one is
taking too narrow a view of Nietzsche when one sees him as a philosopher whose
work was flawed by repression. It may be that he is better seen as a commentator
on repression, which is a major issue in twentieth-century Western culture and
perhaps an unavoidable issue altogether-yet a commentator so open and
ambivalent that he speaks both to those who, like Sigmund Freud, wished to retain
the repression (if in modified form) and those who, like Michel Foucault, wished
to thwart or evade it.
However Zarathustras Geheimnis is finally judged, it at least has the merit of
attempting to investigate the actual conditions of Nietzsche's life, a proceeding
that is rare in the recent Nietzsche literature. Biographical/contextual investigation is
surely important for understanding Nietzsche's work and significance. Kohler's work
helps us to see that important issues in Nietzsche's biography remain unsettled,
including, for example, his transition of the early 1880s. The matter is full of
uncertainties and requires an openness to the possibility that there are crucial things
that we will probably never know. Still, in all of this I would resist the claim that
biographical/contextual investigation is foundational for understanding the object,
"Nietzsche." It does not seem to me that biographical/contextual investigation will
necessarily provide answers to theoretical and critical questions, just as it does not seem
to me that theoretical and critical investigation will necessarily lead to good reconstruc-
tions of historical context. A certain element of intellectual disjunctiveness may well be
unavoidable, here as elsewhere.
B. Special Studies
56 Other anthologies include Keith Ansell-Pearson, ed., Nietzsche and Modern German
Thought (London, 1991); Sigrid Bauschinger, Susan L. Cocalis, and Sara Lennox, eds., Nietzsche
heute: Die Rezeption seines Werks nach 1968 (Bern, 1988); Peter J. Burgard, ed., Nietzsche and
the Feminine (Charlottesville, Va., 1994); Tom Darby, Bela Egyed, and Ben Jones, eds., Nietzsche
and the Rhetoric of Nihilism: Essays on Interpretation, Language, and Politics (Ottawa, 1989);
?6lker Durr, Reinhold Grimm, and Kathy Harms, eds., Nietzsche: Literature and Values
(Madison, Wis., 1988); David Farrell Krell and David Wood, eds., Exceedingly Nietzsche: Aspects
of Contemporary Nietzsche-Interpretation (London, 1988); Paul Patton, ed., Nietzsche, Feminism,
and Political Theory (London, 1993); Laurence A. Rickels, ed., Looking after Nietzsche (Albany,
N.Y., 1990); and Richard Schacht, ed., Nietzsche, Genealogy, Morality: Essays on Nietzsche's
"On the Genealogy of Morals" (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1994).
an object is tied to the place where the describer stands. In a more confident and
less self-questioning time, Kaufmann could articulate a unified and definitive-
seeming Nietzsche. Nietzsche "for our time" is different. Part of the historian's
task is surely to establish a Nietzsche (or Nietzsches) "for our time," yet one who
plausibly existed in an earlier time as well.
In Nietzsche's New Seas, the political theorists Michael Gillespie and Tracy
Strong pick up yet another aspect of the enigma and interest of "Nietzsche." Their
stated aim is to highlight what they see as the intimate relation in Nietzsche
between content and style, but what stands out just as clearly is the activist,
performative aspect of the Nietzsche interpretation they advance. Their concern is
with cultural practice-that is, with ways of living in the world now-and they
read Nietzsche with this concern sharply in view. Especially striking is the way in
which they and some of their contributors (notably Karsten Harries) develop the
Nietzschean theme of exploration and discovery. As Gillespie and Strong write:
"These essays ... try to chart the course that Nietzsche sets for humanity toward
new seas beyond the world bounded by the pillars of Hercules, the world of the
Western tradition.... Whether the voyage Nietzsche sends us on can end in the
joy and innocence of the blessed isles or in a shipwreck that maroons us on the
rocks of nihilism remains an open question" (p. 16). Evident is a strong contrast
with Kohler's much more literal and specific reading of Nietzsche's voyage to
"the blessed isles." Further, whereas Kohler sees Nietzsche's philosophy as
defective, Gillespie contends that Nietzsche was not at all "an unsuccessful
philosopher" (p. 118). Less stringent in their philosophical expectations than
Kohler, Gillespie and Strong offer a more metaphorical and open-and thus more
usable-Nietzsche. The disciplinary historian, with a conceptual image of a fixed
historical past and a commitment to exact factual research, will be inclined, at
least in principle, toward Kohler.
In Reading Nietzsche, edited by the philosophers Robert Solomon and Kathleen
Higgins, nine philosophers, a literary scholar, and a novelist each discuss one
aspect of Nietzsche's work (most choose a particular book). The anthology is
remarkable for the accessibility of its contributions; most striking is a hilarious
essay by the Swedish novelist Lars Gustafsson, "Dr. Nietzsche's Office Hours Are
between 10 and 12 A.M.," but there are other gems as well, and a general air of
clear intelligence applying itself to (relatively) manageable chunks of Nietzsche.
The book is of interest here for two reasons. First, because it is accessible to
nonexperts and not just to learned scholars, it reminds us that the chief aim of any
humanistic study is edification, acquired through reading, discussion, and reflec-
tion. A historicization of Nietzsche that loses sight of this aim is in a certain
measure without justification. Second, to evoke the story of the blind men and the
elephant, the book is a reminder that one's definition of "Nietzsche" depends
heavily on which of his works or on which aspects of his production one chooses
to focus. Once again, there seems to be no authoritative view that will enable us
to define the Nietzsche. As Solomon and Higgins suggest in their introduction,
"there is no Nietzschean iuberhaupt," no "single theme" that one can identify as
central (p. vii). Pushed hard enough, the multiplicity of themes could itself
become the unifying theme, but the Cheshire smile would then be lost.
57 Bergmann, p. 188, n. 2, criticizing Tracy B. Strong, Friedrich Nietzsche and the Politics of
Transfiguration (1975), expanded ed. (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1988).
58 See Bruce Detwiler, Nietzsche and the Politics of Aristocratic Radicalism (Chicago, 1990
pp. 39-42; Mark Warren, Nietzsche and Political Thought (Cambridge, Mass., 1988), pp. 66-69;
Keith Ansell-Pearson, Nietzsche Contra Rousseau: A Study of Nietzsche's Moral and Political
Thought (Cambridge, 1991), pp. 213-14, and especially Strong, pp. 135-85. As Detwiler
observes, "we cannot assume that Nietzsche's political views are exhausted by an analysis of his
interaction with the politics of his time" (p. 207, n. 13).
political vocabulary to describe the soul of man" (p. 4), a choice that has
precedents going back to The Republic. But we ought not to mistake a precedent
for a justification. Mark Warren, in Nietzsche and Political Thought, adds a
systematically critical moment to the political theorists' consideration of Nietz-
sche: he is especially critical of Nietzsche's conflation of soul and state. He argues
that Nietzsche held unexamined-and mistaken-assumptions about the character
of modem society. Jettisoning these assumptions, Warren offers a revised
Nietzsche committed to "individuation, communal infersubjectivity, egalitarian-
ism, and pluralism." He concedes that these commitments do not represent "the
real Nietzsche"; rather, "they represent one Nietzsche, the Nietzsche who has
something to contribute to the development of critical postmodemism in political
thought" (p. 247).
In articulating this Nietzsche and in criticizing the "real" Nietzsche, Warren
shows himself to be an able theorist. But the obvious objection to his proceeding,
likely to be offered not only by historians but also by well-informed Nietzsche
scholars in any field, is that his Nietzsche is a historical falsification. Clearly,
Warren is miles away from the standards of disciplinary historical scholarship, but
his project nonetheless seems to me to be defensible (even though it is not
defensible as history). In the most general terms, we might ask what it is to
understand a past theorist historically. Such an understanding cannot help but
require a translation of the theoretical enterprise into the new, present-day context,
partly to make the enterprise understandable to its present-day recipients and
partly to do honor to the claim of theory to go beyond the particular context of its
articulation. In short, I would resist the strict historisant claim that the author's
context and experience should be seen as foundational for the extension of the
work into other contexts. Rather, as I noted at the end of Section IIIA, I see a gap
between the historical and the theoretical enterprise, making it impossible to get
to the latter, without a break, from the former. Warren has the merit of telling us
exactly what he is doing, namely, reflecting on "what [Nietzsche's] philosophy as
a whole implies for political thought today" (p. ix). His description of "Nietz-
sche" is schematic, but it is also congruent with the general sense in the literature
that the historical object, "Nietzsche," is deeply fissured: thus Warren discovers
two Nietzsches-roughly, a "right" Nietzsche who celebrates mastery over
others, and a "left" Nietzsche who is concemed with human agency-and insists
that "both exist and both are authentic" (pp. 207-8).
The ultimate theorists are the philosophers. Four recent philosophical studies
can stand for a larger universe of works: Alistair Moles, Nietzsche's Philosophy of
Nature and Cosmology; Lester H. Hunt, Nietzsche and the Origin of Virtue; Julian
Young, Nietzsche's Philosophy of Art; and Maudemarie Clark, Nietzsche on Truth
and Philosophy. Three of these studies seek to explicate Nietzsche's views on
currently recognized philosophical problems, with the aim of enabling current
philosophers to draw stimulus and insight from his work. The concern with
demonstrating Nietzsche's philosophical relevance goes back to Kaufmann's
Nietzsche (1950), although, to be sure, Kaufmann was more preoccupied with
rehabilitating Nietzsche generally (by clearing him of the charge of being a
proto-Nazi) than he was with showing his relevance to philosophy specifically.
Arthur C. Danto's Nietzsche as Philosopher (1965) was the first book in English
to take the demonstration of Nietzsche's philosophical relevance as its primary
aim.59 Currently, the preeminent work in this line is Schacht's Nietzsche (1983),
which is an attempt "to gain for [Nietzsche] the attention he deserves in our part
of the contemporary philosophical world." As Schacht notes, the enterprise
involves a dimming of the original "color" of Nietzsche's thinking.60 The
dimming would likely occur in any work of commentary, but the effect is
magnified in the field of analytic philosophy, with its highly instrumental
conception of language. Thus Schacht engages in a "filtering out"' of Nietzsche's
"rhetorical excesses," which he regards as "so much unfortunate static": he
largely passes over Nietzsche's "literary-philosophical efforts," for such work
"does not readily lend itself ... to the sort of analysis undertaken here." In short,
much of what is distinctive about Nietzsche's work is omitted in a search for "the
substance of his philosophical thought." 6'
The four more recent works considered here are all examples of the type of
Nietzsche interpretation ("straightforward" in character) that Schacht practices.
But each work has its particular cast. Taken together, they exemplify something
that Moles notes in the preface to Nietzsche's Philosophy of Nature and
Cosmology, namely, Nietzsche's capacity to generate a seemingly unending round
of divergent reflection on the part of dialectically active and engaged readers.
Clearly, this capacity makes the historicizing of Nietzsche a problem. One could
avoid the problem by leaving aside the theoretical and critical issues that
Nietzsche's writings address, but such avoidance would be strange, for we attend
to Nietzsche in the first place because he discussed those issues.
Of the four works, Nietzsche's Philosophy of Nature and Cosmology conforms
least well to the disciplinary standards of philosophy. Moles's nonconformity is
evident in those parts of his book where, hoping to cast light on the question of
whether Nietzsche's doctrine of eternal recurrence is a plausible theory, he
discusses recent cosmological research. Since the issue is an empirical one, and
since philosophy in its present-day form is generally confined to theoretical
curiosity, Moles comes off as not quite understanding the rules of the philosophy
game. But his empirical bent does give him some affinity with intellectual history.
He contends that Nietzsche was more deeply influenced by the scientific thinking
of his own day than has usually been thought, a contention that might well repay
further investigation by historians. He also offers some interesting aperqus, most
notably in his discussion, albeit rather brief, of the Nietzschean claim that "the
world is ... essentially multiplex.... The world is not a single entity, and not at
all a unity. .. . It is as if the world is essentially self-destructive, as if it embodied
a principle of contradiction" (p. 183). Moles does not address the consequences of
this claim, which could not fail to have self-reflexive implications for any thinker
59 Arthur C. Danto, Nietzsche as Philosopher (New York, 1965). Arguably, Danto's book was
in this respect the English-language equivalent of Martin Heidegger's Nietzsche, 2 vols.
(Pfullingen, 1961).
60 Schacht (n. 46 above), pp. xv-xvi, 530.
61 Ibid., pp. xiii-xv.
holding it, and which, if true, would have an impact on how we ought to
understand history-including Nietzsche, as part of that history.
Hunt, in Nietzsche and the Origin of Virtue, also finds contradiction in
Nietzsche: specifically, a contradiction between "immoralist" and "legislating"
modes in Nietzsche's work. Hunt points out that Nietzsche's claims are often quite
different depending on whether he is attacking others' views or advancing his own.
Given Hunt's emphasis on contradiction, it is not surprising that, in contrast to
Detwiler, he sees Nietzsche's ethical-political philosophy as independent of his
views on other, "supposedly more fundamental" issues (p. xviii). Hunt finds a
"Nietzschean liberalism" in some of Nietzsche's writings (p. 65); he thus offers a
relatively benign view of Nietzsche, akin to Peter Bergmann's. But he also takes
note of Nietzsche's suggestion, late in his career, of the "three-caste" view of
society (philosophers, military leaders, ordinary people)-a view that figures
prominently in Ermst Nolte's vision, in Nietzsche und der Nietzscheanismus, of
Nietzsche the right-winger.
Clark in Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy and Young in Nietzsche's
Philosophy ofArt find coherent Nietzsches, and in a common way: by arguing that
Nietzsche arrived at his "final" views on, respectively, epistemology and art late
in his career, and by finding these final views to be coherent. Of the four studies,
Clark's is the least likely to interest historians, who tend simply to presuppose
conceptions of truth, not think about them. Clark argues that Nietzsche moved
from an "early position," in which he questioned truth's existence (p. ix), to a
position, postdating Beyond Good and Evil (1886), in which he held that truths
really do exist. Clark thus rejects the wild or pseudowild "postmodem" Nietzsche
celebrated by the literary critic Paul de Man and others. While her conceptual
precision and her care in canvassing the extant interpretations of Nietzsche's
epistemology make Nietzsche on Truth and Philosophy worthy of respect, the
historian is struck by the completely "intemal" character of the history it offers of
the development of Nietzsche's epistemological views. In the 1886 preface to The
Birth of Tragedy Nietzsche wrote of looking at "science in the perspective of the
artist" and "art in that of life."62 Art is missing from Clark's account, as is
Nietzsche's life. A hybrid historical/philosophical intelligence, relating what we
know of Nietzsche's life to what Clark tells us about his epistemological views,
might well add insight.
Julian Young, the author of an earlier study on Schopenhauer, brings his
knowledge of Schopenhauer to Nietzsche's Philosophy of Art. He also has
intelligent opinions on art, as we leam whenever he turns from explicating
Nietzsche to criticizing him. Young contends that Nietzsche adhered successively
to four different philosophies of art, articulated in The Birth of Tragedy (1872),
Human, All Too Human (1878 - 80), The Gay Science (1882, 1886), and the works
of his final year of productivity, 1888. Young further argues that Nietzsche's final
account of "the relation between art and life" marks, in some respects, a return to
his initial, Schopenhauerian view in The Birth of Tragedy, restoring "art and its
creators" to "their former glory" (pp. 117-18). Young's book will be rewarding
to readers interested in Nietzsche and art. Yet, again, from the historian's point of
view there is an important absence. Although Young characterizes Nietzsche's
Philosophy of Art as a "philosophical biography," he quickly notes that the book
deals with "the life lived by Nietzsche in rather than outside of his writings"
(p. 2). A rather dusty bios, it must be said. It is good that Young admits it, rather
than claiming to write Nietzsche's real life. Still, the book raises puzzles,
unresolved by Young, to which an examination of the real life might well offer
solutions. Most obviously, the transitions from each Nietzschean philosophy of art
to the next beg to be explained in noninternalist ways, to supplement the
attenuated-even nonexistent-explanations that Young offers. Or consider
Young's account of The Gay Science. Criticizing Schacht's view that The Gay
Science really is, as its title suggests, joyous, Young retorts that (especially in bk.
5) "not Schacht's joyful affirmation of life but rather Spenglerian doom, envelops
it" (p. 112). Yet Young himself notes the tension between Nietzsche's excitement
in The Gay Science at voyaging into "open sea" and his criticism of that very
excitement (p. 111): characteristically, he discounts ambivalence even while
drawing attention to it.63 A better account might see the work as both joyful and
doom-laden-and perhaps other things as well. But why would Nietzsche make it
so? Can Nietzsche's life really be so irrelevant to the descriptive and explanatory
problem that Young helps us to see?
A general difficulty for Nietzsche's philosophical interpreters is that Nietzsche
again and again states philosophical claims without articulating fully (or at all)
supporting arguments.64 The interpreter is thus faced with a choice between jus
stating what Nietzsche said, and reconstructing the arguments. The choice, it
seems, is between a minimal Nietzsche and a reconstructed Nietzsche. Which
Nietzsche is historical? Which unhistorical? One might think that the minimal
Nietzsche is historiographically more pure, but this does not seem to be the case.65
The choice between the minimal and the reconstructed Nietzsche seems in part a
choice between different disciplinary subjectivities in the present. Philosophers
elaborate Nietzsche's philosophical positions with a view to what will be
interesting to philosophers. Historians omit philosophers' issues; thus Nietzsche
acquires something like the atheoretical frame of mind of a present-day historian,
as in other contexts he acquires something like the theoretical frame of mind of a
present-day philosopher. We should not think that the Nietzsche of the historians
is the historical Nietzsche. The search for the historical Nietzsche seems
"multiplex," not singular. Distinctions of quality exist, but these seem connected
to intellectual virtues like precision and imagination, which are not specific to
particular fields.
When one then takes into account the special studies of a literary bent, the
picture becomes even more variegated, although Nietzsche's life, and the
sociopolitico-cultural context, continue to be left aside. Three studies are of
interest here: Adrian Del Caro's Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche: Creativity and the
Anti-Romantic, and two works by Gary Shapiro, Nietzschean Narratives and
Alcyone: Nietzsche on Gifts, Noise, and Women. (Although Shapiro is a philoso-
pher by training, in these books he takes a literary tum.) We can characterize Del
Caro's Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche as "philological" in character, and the two
books by Shapiro as "textual."
Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche is informed by a wide knowledge of German
literature and philosophy in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Del Caro aims
to see what Nietzsche meant by romanticism and why he came to regard romantic
qualities as objectionable. In pursuit of this aim, he attempts to establish what
Nietzsche could and did know about all the major romantic and pararomantic
thinkers. He relies on previous scholarship on this topic but is more systematic and
comprehensive than his predecessors. He finds that an important divergence
between Nietzsche and the romantics is that, whereas the romantics saw creativity
as culminating in the production of the work of art, Nietzsche saw it as
culminating in man himself. As this claim suggests, Del Caro regards Nietzsche as
a humanist, not as some sort of transhumanist or aestheticist.
We should not be surprised that Del Caro's carefully philological study
generates a rather conventional Nietzsche, rather than the extreme thinker some
have seen. His contextualization of Nietzsche (in relation to the literary tradition)
normalizes Nietzsche: the tendency here is to stress those elements that fit
Nietzsche into the context, not those that might exclude him from it. In particular,
while he says much about Nietzsche's views, he says nothing about the
peculiarities of the texts that were the mediums-and perhaps more than
mediums-of those views. He is well aware of Nietzsche's multiplicity and of the
resulting problem "of deriving a comprehensive Nietzschean perspective" (p. 7),
but he might have reflected more explicitly on the implications thereof. Further,
the historian cannot help but note the purely literary and intellectual character of
Del Caro's contextualization of Nietzsche, his almost total lack of interest in
society and politics or in biography. He does claim that "among the tendencies
contributing to Nietzsche's era," the three that were most important for the
development of his thought were "materialism and socialism as seen in the
writings of Marx, the writings of Darwin, and the founding of the Reich under
Prussian supremacy" (p. 10), but he does not actually examine the presence or
absence of these tendencies in Nietzsche's writings.66 On the biographical level,
he takes note of Nietzsche's "wandering lifestyle" of the 1880s and suggests that
it had a relation to his "main problem," namely, "Nietzsche himself" (p. 8), but
he then tums to purely intellectual history, barely to touch such matters again. As
67 For a background study, which does not mention Nietzsche, see James Buzard, The Beat
Track: European Tourism, Literature, and the Ways to "Culture, " 1800-1918 (New York, 1993).
Friedrich A. Kittler makes some suggestive comments on Nietzsche's relation to the telegraph and
the typewriter in Discourse Networks 1800/1900, trans. Michael Metteer, with Chris Cullens
(Stanford, Calif., 1990), pp. 191-96.
C. General Studies
Kundera. Boundary crossing is risky, but White manages to pull it off: he retains
his philosopher's talent of precision even while transgressing into the realms of
literature and cultural commentary. His cross-boundary raids sometimes yield
interesting booty, as when he uses Kundera's account of Anna Karenina in The
Unbearable Lightness of Being for help in criticizing Nehamas's account of the
relations between life and literature in Nietzsche: Life as Literature (once more
Nehamas's book serves as a foil).
White admits that his is a domesticated Nietzsche: "I muffle, perhaps nearly
silence, Nietzsche's thunder and fireworks." White's Nietzsche is one who
"presents us with reasons for respecting others and encouraging diversity." White
finds that Nietzsche "does not ... illuminate our political action"; he tells us not
how to save the world, but how "to save ourselves from living lives that we will
come to view with regret rather than with pride" (p. 137). This is a good
Nietzsche, and (I think) one to be welcomed. Still, the historian misses the fire a
thunder and finds troubling the absence of a biographical and contextual
dimension. Is not the "good" Nietzsche simply too well adapted to what we
conceive to be our present needs? Is not one task of the historian that of
restoring-as much as possible-what in Nietzsche, qua historical figure, is
different from us, and perhaps troubling to us?
Peter Sloterdijk, in Thinker on Stage: Nietzsche's Materialism, articulates a
Nietzsche of a wilder sort. Sloterdijk writes outside the tradition of professional
philosophy, and outside the university generally. In this respect, Thinker on Stage,
although it is an essay of only a hundred pages, parallels Joachim Kohler's work.
Like White, Sloterdijk "hybridizes" philosophy and literature, but to a greater
degree. His Nietzsche is a "centauric" genius (p. 1), at home nowhere. The
centauric genius, Sloterdijk contends, seeks to liberate himself from the trap of
instrumental reason, while avoiding flight into counterenlightenment. Focusing on
The Birth of Tragedy (1872), Sloterdijk finds a Nietzsche who had an "inability to
be a specialist in any one discipline" (p. 6). Breaching professional boundaries, he
transformed Greek antiquity into something that was no longer "a guarantee for
reasonable moderation and proper bourgeois serenity" (p. 14). Instead, he brought
forth, although ambivalently, "the Dionysian force of vitality and sexuality"
(p. 16). In Sloterdijk's reading, Nietzsche is a "thinker on stage" in that he is both
seeker and teacher, revealing his quest and presenting it as an end in itself.
Sloterdijk's Nietzsche speaks (pace Pletsch) "from behind the pretense of the cult
of genius" (p. 11, my emphasis).
Clearly, Sloterdijk's is not a commentary in the authorized style. Yet his is a
legitimate reading of Nietzsche, in the sense that it is a Nietzschean reading: just
as The Birth of Tragedy was really about Nietzsche's present, so Sloterdijk's
commentary on The Birth of Tragedy is really about Sloterdijk's present. To be
sure, it now strikes us as, to some degree, an artifact of a certain tendency in
anarcho-leftist Westem German intellectual politics circa 1986, when the original
German edition was published. But its connection to that moment does not
invalidate it as a Nietzsche interpretation. In his brevity Sloterdijk zeroes in on
some important aspects of what we are probably justified in taking as one of the
historical Nietzsches. For example, his emphasis on Nietzsche's concern with
masks is surely justified not only by the presence of masks in Greek tragedy but
also by the conditions of Nietzsche's own life. Sloterdijk also seems right in
emphasizing the dialectic between Nietzsche's need to escape from himself and
his need to find himself, especially after his break with Wagner and departure from
Basel. Nor are these the only places where Sloterdijk, a nonhistorian, seems to
evoke historical resonances.
Henry Staten, a professor of literature, shows himself in Nietzsche's Voice to be
yet another hybridizer. His reading of Nietzsche is in a broad sense Derridean: it
has a "family resemblance" to Derrida's reading of Rousseau in Of Grammatol-
ogy (p. 2, n. 2).68 Staten characterizes his reading as "deconstructive" or "psy-
chodialectic" and sees it as treating "the interaction between the libidinal
economy of a text and its logical and dialectical structures" (p. 2). One of the
reasons Nietzsche's Voice is best viewed as a general study is that Staten explicitly
confronts, in his "psychodialectic" reading, the question of whether and how
Nietzsche is to be taken as a whole. Staten acknowledges the question early in his
book, when he notes that one could say that "Nietzsche" is nothing but an
assemblage of multiple "subject positions or 'voices,' " or one could say "that
they are all inflections of one voice or masks of one persona" (Staten apparently
does not recall that "persona" means "mask," suggesting masks behind masks,
caves behind caves). Staten himself chooses to treat Nietzsche's text as a
" 'relative unity,' however problematic and fractured." Starting from this po
he asks what, in its "textual economy," allows it "to be heard in so many
ways" (pp. 5-6). He does not aim to refer the heterogeneity of Nietzsche's text
back to "some perfect originative freedom" but aims, instead, to elicit the
"constraints of textuality" at work in it (p. 7). These constraints constitute the
psychodialectic of Nietzsche's text.
Staten is both a careful reader and a precise conceptualizer, and his study is one
of the best under consideration here. His appendix alone, taking issue with the
literary critic Paul de Man's well-known deconstructive reading of The Birth of
Tragedy, is worth the price of admission, as is his account of the burgeoning
oscillations and reversals of Toward the Genealogy of Morals. But his psychodi-
alectic reading does not touch Nietzsche's life: he is concerned with "the texture
of Nietzsche's text" (p. 26) and not at all with the texture of his life. Indeed, Staten
deliberately refrains from any use of Nietzsche's letters, which in his view would
take him beyond the purely textual level ("intrinsic," "formalist") at which he
wants to work (p. 2, n. 3). The historian, concemed with such trivialities as the
empirical lives of people, their loves and hates, is disconcerted, and looks for hints
toward an extension of the psychodialectic from text to life. When Staten quotes
Nietzsche's claim in Beyond Good and Evil that "the degree and kind of a man's
sexuality reach up into the ultimate pinnacle of his spirit" (pp. 1-2), the historian
asks about Nietzsche's sexuality. Staten quotes Nietzsche's assertion in Ecce
Homo that "contrary capacities" dwelt within him and that he had attempted "to
mix nothing, to 'reconcile' nothing" (p. 22, quoting EH, "Why I Am So Clever,"
sec. 9), and the historian again is inclined to seek out a connection to the life. The
69 Bernd Magnus, Nietzsche's Existential Imperative (Bloomington, Ind., 1978), along with
Schacht's Nietzsche and Nehamas's Nietzsche: Life as Literature (n. 30 above), were the three
most noteworthy books on Nietzsche by philosophers published in the late 1970s and early 1980s.
attempt to start a dialogue between philosophy and literary criticism. Their method
is "to exploit the timeless simultaneity of a library," putting "philosophically
important" Nietzschean texts next to "theoretically significant" works of literature
(p. 140). They do not care whether their descriptions of Nietzsche fit together in
any sort of historical context. Nor are they interested in the explanation-seeking
question, which historians find important: Why did Nietzsche think and write as
he did? Their deeply textual focus is manifest. Like Staten, they fixate on
Nietzsche's "body of thought" (pp. 7-11) while leaving his real body to the
worms. Bodies molder, writings do not. They claim that Toward the Genealogy of
Morals is about writers, readers, and the relations between them (pp. 186-233),
where a historian would be inclined to claim that the work is about other things
as well. They claim that etemal recurrence is really about "the mastery of texts"
and that this mastery "is all that we can expect to master of life" (pp. 143-44);
here a historian might agree but would also be inclined to explore the contextual
and biographical dimensions of the claim.
One author, or one set of authors, can do only so much: it is then up to other
authors to do different things. As Schacht noted in his Nietzsche, "many sorts of
books" can and should be written about Nietzsche, and it would be silly to see the
writing of one kind of book as excluding other kinds.70 Magnus, Stewart, and
Mileur, and the other "centauric" authors, would surely agree. They would surely
also agree that there is no particular reason to stop at "philosophy plus literary
criticism." But none of this means that one can arrive at the real Nietzsche by pure
additivity, that is, by bringing into play all possible perspectives. First, there is no
guarantee that the number of possible perspectives is finite; and second, different
perspectives embody contradictory strengths (e.g., textual sensitivity, contextual
awareness, conceptual rigor), so that something will be cancelled out in the
addition. Against the richness of Nietzsche interpretation, the pallor of synthesis.
D. Reception Studies
Nor does a tum to the reception of Nietzsche's work suggest a way of arriving at
a synthesis, historical or otherwise, for the reception of the work has been just as
various as the work itself (if we are even justified any more in referring to "the
work itself"). I have already noted that historians tend (perhaps wisely, consid-
ering the difficulties) to shy away from the more complex and demanding aspects
of Nietzsche's work, indeed to shy away from Nietzsche generally. Once he is
safely insane they find him more manageable. The recent literature includes three
reception studies by historians. Two are marginal to the discipline: namely, the
"Nietzscheanismus" part of Ernst Nolte's Nietzsche und der Nietzscheanismus,
and Seth Taylor's revised dissertation, Left-Wing Nietzscheans: The Politics of
German Expressionism, 1910-1920. More important is Steven E. Aschheim's The
Nietzsche Legacy in Germany, 1890-1990. Yet, lest one think that Aschheim
exhausts the subject, one must also look at that legacy as it is described by the
71 See Ernst Nolte, Der europdische Btirgerkrieg, 1917-1945 (Berlin, 1987). The notion of
such a war is at least implicit in Nolte, Three Faces of Fascism, trans. Leila Vennewitz (1963;
reprint, New York, 1965), where Nolte is preoccupied by what he sees as the relationship, both
symbiotic and conflictual, between fascism and Marxism (see esp. 39-40, 51).
72 On the Historikerstreit, see Charles S. Maier, The Unmasterable Past: History, Holocaust,
and German National Identity (Cambridge, Mass., 1988), especially chap. 3, "A Holocaust Like
the Others? Problems of Comparative History," pp. 66-99; on Nolte's thesis in particular, see
esp. pp. 66-67. See also Steven E. Aschheim's discussion of Nolte, in The Nietzsche Legacy in
Germany, 1890-1990 (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1992), pp. 323-27.
73 The juxtaposition of Marx and Nietzsche is already to be found in Nolte, Three Faces of
Fascism, pp. 551-58.
interpreted. Careless readers might think that he does. But in leaving aside the
notion of a single, "real" Nietzsche, he undermines the notion of a single,
authoritative context-namely, that which is of interest to the disciplinary
historians.
Behler and Schrift exemplify the point. Their work does not invalidate
Aschheim's, but viewed together the different accounts suggest that there is no
such thing as "the Nietzsche legacy," in Germany or anywhere else. Behler's
account of Nietzsche reception, which looks only at intellectually serious work, is
far more selective than Aschheim's. In a few illuminating pages, Confrontations
covers the philosophers' reception of Nietzsche from the 1890s through the 1960s.
What is distinctive about Behler's book-beyond its unusually high level of
scholarly rigor and care-is the way in which he reads Nietzsche through the
indirection of readings of Heidegger and Derrida. The approach has its justifica-
tion in the fact that Heidegger and Derrida are arguably the two most consequen-
tial legatees of Nietzsche in the philosophical tradition. Aschheim focuses on a far
"lower" level of material. His focus is institutionally-that is to say,
contextually-determined: he confines his account to the kinds of material that
historians are comfortable with. Behler is more challenging: he invites the reader's
dialectical engagement with Nietzsche and his legatees. Yet Behler's approach is
clearly legitimate in a historical sense too: after all, Nietzsche did address his work
to future philosophers. The history of the serious engagement of philosophers with
Nietzsche is no less "historical" than the history of his ideological use.
Schrift, like Behler, approaches Nietzsche by indirection. He begins with an
account of Heidegger's Nietzsche interpretation, to which he proposes a "ludic"
alternative; he turns next to Derrida's use of Nietzsche to counter Heidegger; and
only in the third part does he turn to Nietzsche himself. A philosopher writes here,
not a historian. Yet, at the end, he suggests something that might help historians
also: "If Dionysus is Nietzsche's image of the intrepid multiplier of perspectives,
might not Ariadne's thread be the thread of philological rigor that insures that
these perspectives follow the walls of the labyrinthine text? Just as Dionysus can
master the labyrinth only with the assistance of Ariadne's thread, so too the
multiplication of perspectives can be used to master the text only with the
assistance of philological attention" (pp. 197-98). In his notion of philological
attention, Schrift is suggesting a procedural form of objectivity. Procedural
objectivity need not imply that all observers come together in the unity of a single
answer. At the same time, it can suggest a morality of care and attention that might
hold people together even when they disagree quite radically. In speaking of a
morality I diverge from anything that might be considered Nietzschean, given
Nietzsche's own rampant attack on the moral interpretation of the world.
IV. CONCLUSION