Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth. — John Shaqi
Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth.Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm
PhilosophyPhilosophy
Thoughts out of Season, Part I: David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth.
Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm
Strauss, David Friedrich, 1808-1874; Wagner, Richard, 1813-1883
their _unisono_ deceive us concerning the poverty and vulgarity of the
melody they sing. How can it dispose us more favourably towards a
profession of faith to hear that it is approved by a crowd, when it is
of such an order that if any individual of that crowd attempted to
make it known to us, we should not only fail to hear him out, but
should interrupt him with a yawn? If thou sharest such a belief, we
should say unto him, in Heaven's name, keep it to thyself! Maybe, in
the past, some few harmless types looked for the thinker in David
Strauss; now they have discovered the "believer" in him, and are
disappointed. Had he kept silent, he would have remained, for these,
at least, the philosopher; whereas, now, no one regards him as such.
He no longer craved the honours of the thinker, however; all he wanted
to be was a new believer, and he is proud of his new belief. In making
a written declaration of it, he fancied he was writing the catechism
of "modern thought," and building the "broad highway of the world's
future." Indeed, our Philistines have ceased to be faint-hearted and
bashful, and have acquired almost cynical assurance. There was a time,
long, long ago, when the Philistine was only tolerated as something
that did not speak, and about which no one spoke; then a period ensued
during which his roughness was smoothed, during which he was found
amusing, and people talked about him. Under this treatment he
gradually became a prig, rejoiced with all his heart over his rough
places and his wrongheaded and candid singularities, and began to
talk, on his own account, after the style of Riehl's music for the
home.
"But what do I see? Is it a shadow? Is it reality? How long and broad
my poodle grows!"
For now he is already rolling like a hippopotamus along "the broad
highway of the world's future," and his growling and barking have
become transformed into the proud incantations of a religious founder.
And is it your own sweet wish, Great Master, to found the religion of
the future? "The times seem to us not yet ripe (p. 7). It does not
occur to us to wish to destroy a church." But why not, Great Master?
One but needs the ability. Besides, to speak quite openly in the
latter, you yourself are convinced that you Possess this ability. Look
at the last page of your book. There you actually state, forsooth,
that your new way "alone is the future highway of the world, which now
only requires partial completion, and especially general use, in order
also to become easy and pleasant."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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