Nietzsche's Zarathustra

“Of all that is written, I love only what a person hath written with his blood. Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit.

It is no easy task to understand unfamiliar blood; I hate the reading idlers.
He who knoweth the reader, doeth nothing more for the reader. Another century of readers--and spirit itself will stink.

Every one being allowed to learn to read, ruineth in the long run not only writing but also thinking.
Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it even becometh populace.

He that writeth in blood and proverbs doth not want to be read, but learnt by heart.

In the mountains the shortest way is from peak to peak, but for that route thou must have long legs. Proverbs should be peaks, and those spoken to should be big and tall.

The atmosphere rare and pure, danger near and the spirit full of a joyful wickedness: thus are things well matched.

I want to have goblins about me, for I am courageous. The courage which scareth away ghosts, createth for itself goblins--it wanteth to laugh.” 

Also sprach Zarathustra (Thus Spoke Zarathustra). A year after reading Nietzsche's book -- described by himself as "the deepest ever written" -- I vaguely remember the chronological order of the events and didactic messages of Zarathustra, though the philosophical insights that I got while reading it remains a literary and intellectual asset till date. Aptly said, it is "Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen (A Book for All and None)." One either agrees or disagrees with his startling revelation of his own thoughts and ideas on myriad of issues, particularly related to eternal recurrence and morality of religion. 

Of all great and evil things Nietzsche wrote in Thus Spoke Zarathustra, his thoughts on existentialism -- a complex philosophical term that continues to confuse as well as bewitch me since I read about it seven-eight years ago -- has been brilliantly conveyed through Zarathustra, the protagonist of the book who has descended from his mountain retreat to mankind. Here is a simply expressed streak of his existential thoughts: 

“But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you lie in wait for yourself in caverns and forests. Lonely one, you are going the way to yourself! And your way goes past yourself, and past your seven devils! You will be a heretic to yourself and witch and soothsayer and fool and doubter and unholy one and villain. You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame: how could you become new, if you had not first become ashes?” 

And this poetically sums up Zarathustra's concept of Übermensch (superhuman, a self-mastered person), which one constantly encounters while reading the book: 

“I love those that know not how to live except as down-goers, for they are the over-goers.

I love the great despisers, because they are the great adorers, and arrows of longing for the other shore.

I love those who do not first seek a reason beyond the stars for going down and being sacrifices, but sacrifice themselves to the earth, that the earth of the Superman may hereafter arrive.

I love him who lives in order to know, and seeks to know in order that the Superman may hereafter live.

Thus seeks he his own down-going.

I love him who labors and invents, that he may build the house for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant: for thus seeks he his own down-going.

I love him who loves his virtue: for virtue is the will to down-going, and an arrow of longing.

I love him who reserves no share of spirit for himself, but wants to be wholly the spirit of his virtue: thus walks he as spirit over the bridge.

I love him who makes his virtue his inclination and destiny: thus, for the sake of his virtue, he is willing to live on, or live no more.

I love him who desires not too many virtues. One virtue is more of a virtue than two, because it is more of a knot for one's destiny to cling to.

I love him whose soul is lavish, who wants no thanks and does not give back: for he always bestows, and desires not to keep for himself.

I love him who is ashamed when the dice fall in his favor, and who then asks: "Am I a dishonest player?"--for he is willing to succumb.

I love him who scatters golden words in advance of his deeds, and always does more than he promises: for he seeks his own down-going.

I love him who justifies the future ones, and redeems the past ones: for he is willing to succumb through the present ones.

I love him who chastens his God, because he loves his God: for he must succumb through the wrath of his God.

I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding, and may succumb through a small matter: thus goes he willingly over the bridge.

I love him whose soul is so overfull that he forgets himself, and all things that are in him: thus all things become his down-going.

I love him who is of a free spirit and a free heart: thus is his head only the bowels of his heart; his heart, however, causes his down-going.

I love all who are like heavy drops falling one by one out of the dark cloud that lowers over man: they herald the coming of the lightning, and succumb as heralds.”  

And ultimately, "you know these things as thoughts, but your thoughts are not your experiences, they are an echo and after-effect of your experiences." 

***

Suggested reading: 

Nietzsche: The Darkness of Life

http://faculty.frostburg.edu/phil/forum/Nietzsche.htm

The Philosophy of Nietzsche: An Introduction by Alain de Botton

http://www.openculture.com/2013/06/the_philosophy_of_nietzsche_an_introduction_by_alain_de_botton.html 

Philosophy of Nietzsche (a comprehensive 145-page research book)  

http://www.anus.com/zine/db/friedrich_nietzsche/henry_louis_mencken-the_philosophy_of_friedrich_nietzsche.pdf

Nietzsche's Moral and Political Philosophy

http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nietzsche-moral-political/

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844—1900): life and philosophy 

http://www.iep.utm.edu/nietzsch/ 

Decline of theatre

Last week I happened to go to watch a play that claimed itself to be "inspired by true incidents showing how women ensnared by rituals, superstitions, taboos and social mores result in being trapped by men who exploit their vulnerability and ignorance. They are brutalised through religion and societal norms, abandoned by divorce and bigamy."

The socio-economic and political emancipation of female is usually restricted by male-dominated society in India. Also, there is no doubt and this remains a universally acknowledged fact that Indian remains one of the worst places on Earth to be born as female. For an artist, to portray this social dysfunction in his work remains quite a challenging task, especially for a playwright and play directors. Enticed by the curiosity to witness a work of art dealing with the serious topic related to feminism on stage seemed to be an interesting invitation that I could not resist.

The 85-minute play included around 20 minutes of audio-video presentation on a large screen in the beginning and the end of the play. Maybe the director intended to be placidly expressive by using a visual presentation and maybe many of the audience found it to be innovative as well. As a serious theatre loving person, I saw it as a failure of creativity. By all means, creativity must be expression of originality. The use of technological innovations such as lights and sounds are happily-accepted and intrinsic part of a play on stage, but using visual presentations, i.e., a documentary film, to convey the message that a play director should ideally do through his actors appeared to be a serious treachery by the director not only to the audience but to his own artistic integrity as well.

Child marriage, sexual repression of married women by their husbands, miscarriages being seen as social stigma and miserable conditions of widows are some unsmiling subject matters in need to be carefully dealt in works of art, particularly in a country like India. The play touched all these topics, though in a cluttered, beclouded and inarticulate manner that made its plots look broken, failing to give a clear message to the audience. The writer-cum-director of the play, showing off his strong hold over Urdu language, was brilliant in his narrative, but badly faltered in knitting up various separate plots together.

My idea is not to criticise (that is why I have not mentioned the name and director of the play, as well as the venue where it was staged), but to personally ponder about the motive and relevance of theatre as a mass media today. Amid the glory of internet, high popularity of Hollywood, Bollywood and several other suffixes ending in 'wood' representing various film industries and satellite televisions forever willing to feed us all sort of entertainment, theatre as a mass media remains limited to a handful of intelligentsia in our society. Irrespective of what age groups they belong to, urban and even rural settlers find more comfort today in going out to movies, gluing themselves to TVs and engaging in other sort of entertainment than giving even a thought over watching a play in a nearby theatre.

Despite its occasional creative failure in applying innovations and experimentations that I mentioned in an example above, theatre still remains today a healthy medium of procuring aesthetic delight and clean entertainment that intellectually enrich the audience. However, depressingly empty theatre halls lacking applause these years somehow drearily underline the fact that theatre is no more a viable product of mass communication.

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R
Sent from my iPad