Secondly, however, that vampire,
'their talent, generally forbids them such an ex penditure of energy as passion demands--A man who has a talent is sacrificed to that talent; he lives under the vampirism of his talent.
'their talent, generally forbids them such an ex penditure of energy as passion demands--A man who has a talent is sacrificed to that talent; he lives under the vampirism of his talent.
Nietzsche - Works - v15 - Will to Power - b
Has a beautiful woman, who knew she was well
dressed, ever caught cold? Never yet on this earth! I even suppose a case in which she has scarcely a rag'on her.
A 808.
If one should require the most astonishing proof of how far the power of transfiguring, which comes of intoxication, goes, this proof is at hand in "the phenomenon of love; or what is called love in all the languages and silences of' the world. Intoxication works to such a degree upon reality in this passion that in the consciousness of the lover the cause of his love is quite suppressed, and
something else seems to take its place,--a vibra tion and a glitter of all the charm-mirrors of Circe. . . . In this respect/t0 be man or an
? healthy!
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
animal makes no difference: and still less does spirit, goodness, or honesty. If one is astute, one is befooled astutely; if one is thick-headed, one is befooled in a thick-headed way. But love, even the love of God, saintly love, "the love that saves the soul," are at bottom all one; they are nothing but a fever which has reasons to trans-- figure itself--a state of intoxication which does well to lie about itself. . . . And, at any rate, when a man loves, he is a good liar about himself and to himself: he seems to himself transfigured, stronger, richer, more perfect; he is more per fect. . . . Art here acts as an organic function: we find it present in the most angelic instinct "love"; we find it as the greatest stimulus of life--thus art is sublimely utilitarian, even in the fact that it lies. . . . But we should be wrong to halt at its power to lie: it does more than merely imagine; it actually transposes values. And it not only transposes the feeling for values: the lover actually lzas a greater value; he is
In animals this condition gives rise to new weapons, colours, pigments, and forms, and above all to new movements, new rhythms, new love-calls and seductions. In man it is just the same. His whole economy is richer, mightier, and more complele When he is in love than when he is not. The lover becomes a spendthrift; he is rich enough for it. He now dares; he becomes an adventurer, and even a donkey in magnanimity
and innocence; his belief in God and in virtue revives, because he believes in love. Moreover, such idiots of happiness acquire wings and new
25!
? stgmger.
? ? ? 252
THE WILL TO POWER.
capacities, and even the door to art isIopened to them.
If we cancel the suggestion of this intestinal
the lyric of tones and words, what is left to poetry and music? . . . L'art pour l'art perhaps; the professional cant of frogs shivering outside in the cold, and dying of despair in their swamp. . . . Everything else was created by love.
809.
All art works like a suggestion on the muscles and the senses which were originally active in the ingenuous artistic man; its voice is only heard by artists--it speaks to this kind of man, whose constitution is attuned to such subtlety in sensi tiveness. The concept "layman " is a misnomer. The deaf man is not a subdivision of the class whose ears are sound. All art works as a tonic; it increases strength, it kindles desire (i. e. the feeling of strength), it excites all the more subtle recollections of intoxication; there is actually a
special kind of memory which underlies such states--a distant flitful world of sensations here
'
which art excludes, the negation of art: wherever decline, impoverishment of life, impotence, de composition, dissolution, are felt, however remotely, the aesthetic man reacts with his N0. Ugliness
feverfrom
? returns to being.
Ugliness is the contradiction of art. It is that
it is the sign of depression. It robs strength, it impoverishes, it weighs down. . . . Ugliness suggests repulsive things. From one's
dey>resses:
? ? ? THE WILL 'ro POWER IN ART.
states of health one can test how an indisposition may increase one's power of fancying ugly things. One's selection of things, interests, and questions becomes diflerent. Logic provides a state which is next of kin to-ugliness: heaviness, bluntness. In the presence of ugliness equilibrium is lacking
in a mechanical sense: ugliness limps and stumbles--the direct opposite of the godly agility of the dancer.
The aesthetic state represents an overflow of means of communication as well as a condition of extreme sensibility to stimuli and signs. It is the zenith of communion _ and transmission between living creatures; it is the source of languages. In languages, whether of signs, sounds, or glances, have their birthplace. The richer phenomenon always the beginning: our abilities are subtilised forms of richer abilities. But'even to-day we still listen with our muscles,
'
as basis: in so far as language. Con vention condition of great art, not an obstacle to it. . . Every elevation of life likewise elevates the power of communication, as also the under standing Of man. The power of living in other
souls originally had nothing to do with morality,-but with a physiological irritability of suggestion: "sympathy," or what called "altruism," merely product of that psycho motor relationship which reckoned as spirituality (psycho-motor induction, says Charles
People never communicate thought to one
people's
Fe? re? ).
253
? we even read with our muscles.
Every mature art possesses host of conventions
? ? a
is a a
a is
it, is
is
. is a
is
a
it
? 254
THE WILL TO POWER.
another: they communicate a movement, an imitative sign which is then interpreted as a thought.
810.
Compared with music, communication by means of words is a shameless mode of procedure; words reduce and stultify; words make impersonal; words make common that which is uncommon.
8II.
It is exceptional states that determine the artist--such states as are all intimately related and entwined with morbid symptoms, so that it would seem almost impossible to be an artist
- without being ill.
The physiological conditions which in the artist
become moulded into a "personality," and which, to a certain degree, may attach themselves to any man :--
(I) Intoxication, the feeling of enhanced power ; the inner compulsion to make things a mirror of one's own fulness and perfection.
The extreme sharpness of certain senses, so that they are capable of understanding a totally different language of signs--and to create such a language (this is a condition which manifests itself in some nervous diseases); extreme susceptibility
out of which great powers of communion are developed; the desire to speak on the part of everything that is capable of making signs ; a need
of being rid of one's self by means of gestures
? (2)
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 255
and attitudes; the ability of speaking about one's
self in hundred different languages--in fact,
state of explosion.
One must first imagine this condition as one in
which there pressing and compulsory desire of
ridding one's self of the costasy of state of tension,
by all kinds of muscular work and movement; also as an involuntary co-ordination of these move
ments with inner processes (images, thoughts, desires)--as kind of automatism of the whole muscular system under the compulsion of strong
from within; the inability to reaction; the apparatus of resistance
stimuli acting
resist
also suspended.
Every inner movement (feeling, accompanied by vascular
? thought, emotion)
changes, and consequently by changes in colour,
and secretion. The suggestive power of music, its "suggestion mentale. "
temperature,
The compulsion to imitate: extreme irritabil ity, by means of which certain example becomes
(3)
condition guessed and represented merely by means of few signs. A complete
contagious--a
visualised by one's inner consciousness, and its effect soon shows itself in the movement of the 1imbs,--in certain suspension of the will
picture Mg
A sort of blindness and deafness towards the external world,--the realm
of admitted stimuli sharply defined.
This differentiates the artist from the layman
(from the spectator of art): the latter reaches the height of his excitement in the mere act of appre
(Schopenhauer!
the former in giving--and in such way that the antagonism between these two gifts not
hending:
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a is
! !
"nvgr
g . ,_
is
a
l).
is a
a is
. . .
a
a
is a
is a
? 256
THE WILL TO POWER.
only natural but even desirable. Each of these states has an opposite standpoint--to demand of the artist that he should have the point of view _of the spectator (of the critic) is equivalent to asking him to impoverish his creative power. . . . In this respect the same difference holds good as that which exists between the sexes: one should not ask the artist who gives to become a woman--to "receive. "
Our aesthetics have hitherto been women's aesthetics, inasmuch as they have only formulated the experiences of what is beautiful, from the point of view of the receivers in art. In the whole of philosophy hitherto the artist has been lacking . . . Le. as we have already suggested, a necessary fault: for the artist who would begin to under stand himself would therewith begin to mistake
himself--he must not look backwards, he must not look at all; he must give. --It is an honour for an artist to have no critical faculty; if he can criticise he is mediocre, he is modern.
812.
Here I lay down a series of psychological states as signs of flourishing and complete life, which to-day we are in the habit of regarding as morbid. But, by this time, we have broken ourselves of the habit of speaking of healthy and morbid as opposites: the question is one of degree,--what I maintain on this point is that what people call healthy nowadays represents a lower level of that
which under favourable circumstances actually would be healthy--that we are relatively sick. . . .
? ? ? ? i
The artist belongs to much Strofiger race. That which in us would be harmful and sickly, natural in him. But people object to this that pre cisely the impoverishment of the machine which renders this extraordinary power of comprehending every kind of suggestion possible: eg. our hysteri cal females.
An overflow of spunk and energy may quite as well lead to symptoms of partial constraint, sense hallucinations, peripheral sensitiveness, as poor vitality does--the stimuli are differently deter mined, the effect the same. What not.
i 'the same above all the ultimate result; the extreme torpidity of all morbid natures, after their nervous eccentricities, has nothing in common with the states of the artist, who need in no wise repent his best moments. He rich enough for all: he can squander without becoming poor.
"Just as we now feel justified in judging genius as form of neurosis, we may perhaps think the same of artistic suggestive power,-- and our artists are, as matter of fact, only too closely related to hysterical females This, however,
only an argument against the present day, and not against artists in general.
The inartistic states are: objectivity, reflection
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
257
? of the will . (Schopenhauer's scandal ous misunderstanding consisted in regarding art as
mere bridge to the denial of life) . . . The in artistic states are: those which impoverish, which subtract, which bleach, under which life suffers--
the Christian. VOL. II.
suspension
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THE WILL 'ro POWER.
813.
The modern artist who, in his physiology, is next of kin to the hysteric, may also be classified as a character belonging to this state of morbid ness. The hysteric is false,--he lies from the love of lying, he is admirable in all the arts of dissimulation,--unless his morbid vanity hood wink him. This vanity is like a perpetual fever which is in need of stupefying drugs, and which
recoils from no self-deception and no farce that
promises it the most fleeting satisfaction. incapacity for pride and the need of continual revenge for his deep-rooted self-contempL--this is almost the definition of this man's vanity. )
The absurd irritability of his system, which makes a crisis out of every one of his experiences,
and sees dramatic elements in the most
cant occurrences Of life, deprives him of all calm reflection: he ceases from being a personality, at most he is a rendezvous of personalities of which first one and then the other asserts itself with barefaced assurance. Precisely on this account he is great as an actor: all these poor will-less people, whom doctors study so profoundly, astound one
through their virtuosity in mimicking, in trans figuration, in their assumption of almost any character required.
814.
Artists are not men of great passion, despite all their assertions to the contrary both to themselves and to others. And for the following two reasons :
insignifi
(The
? ? ? ? '
.
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
they lack all shyness towards themselves (they watch themselves live, they spy upon themselves, they are much too inquisitive), and they also lack shyness in the presence of passion (as artists they exploit it).
Secondly, however, that vampire,
'their talent, generally forbids them such an ex penditure of energy as passion demands--A man who has a talent is sacrificed to that talent; he lives under the vampirism of his talent.
A man does not get rid of his passion by re producing but rather he rid of he able to reproduce it. (Goethe teaches the reverse, but
seems as though he deliberately misunderstood h'imself here--from sense of delicacy. )
815.
Concerning a reasonable mode of life--Relative chastity, fundamental and shrewd caution in regard to erotica, even _in thought, may be reason able mode of life even in richly equipped and
perhaps
natures. But this principle applies more
perfect
particularly
wisdom of their lives. Wholly trustworthy voices have already been raised in favour of this view, e. g. Stendhal, Th. Gautier, and Flaubert. The artist
in his way necessarily sensual man, generally susceptible, accessible to everything, and capable of responding to the remotest stimulus or suggestion of stimulus. Nevertheless, as rule he in the power of his work, of his will to mastership, really sober and Often even chaste man. His dominating instinct will have him so:
to artists; belongs to the best
259
? ? ? is
a a
a
a
a is
is
it
a
it if
'I
it
a
is
a
it,
? 260 THE WILL TO POWER.
it does not allow him to spend himself haphazardly. It is one and the same form of strength which is
in artistic, conception and in the sexual act: there is only one form of strength. The artist who yields in this respect, and who spends himself, is betrayed: by so doing he reveals his lack of instinct, his lack of will in general. It may be a sign of decadence,--in any case it re duces the value of his art to an incalculable degree.
816.
Compared with the artist, the scientific ma'i,
as a phenomenon, is indeed a sign of' a certain storing-up and levelling-down of life (but also of an increase of strength, severity, hardness, and will-power). To what extent can falsity and indifference towards truth and utility be a sign of youth, of childishness, in the artist? . . . Their habitual manner, their unreasonableness, their ignorance of themselves, their indifference to "eternal values," their seriousness in play, their lack of dignity; clowns and gods in one; the saint and the rabble. . . . Imitation as an imperi ous instinct--Do not artists of ascending life and artists of degeneration belong to all phases? . . . Yes!
817.
Would any link be missing in the whole chain of science and art, if woman, if woman's work, were excluded from it? Let us acknowledge the
spent
regarded
'
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 261
exception--it proves the rule--that woman capable of perfection in everything which does not constitute work: in letters, in memoirs, in the most intricate handiwork--in short, in everything which not craft; and just precisely because in the things mentioned woman perfects herself, be cause in them she obeys the only artistic impulse in her nature,--which to captivate. . . But what has woman to do with the passionate indiffer ence of the genuine artist who sees more importance in breath, in sound, in the merest trifle, than in himself ? ---who with all his five fingers gropes for his most secret and hidden treasures P--who attri butes no value to anything unless knows how to take shape (unless surrenders itself, unless visualises itself in some way). Art as practised by artists--do you not understand what
is? not an outrage on all our pudeursP . Only in this century has woman dared to try her hand at literature (" Vers la canai/leplumz'e? re e'crz'v assz'e? re," to speak with old Mirabeau): woman now writes, she now paints, she losing her instincts.
? And to what purpose, question
818
A man an artist to the extent to which he regards everything that inartistic people call "form" as the actual substance, as the "prin cipal" thing. With such ideas man certainly belongs to world upside down: for hencefor ward substance seems to him something merely formal,----his own life included.
one may put such
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? 262 THE WILL TO POWER.
819.
A sense for, and a delight in, nuances (which is characteristic of modernity), in that which is not general, runs counter to the instinct which finds its joy and its strength in grasping what is typical: like Greek taste in its best period. In this there is an overcoming of the plenitude of life ; restraint dominates, the peace of the strong soul which is slow to move and which feels a certain repug nance towards excessive activity is defeated. The general rule, the law, is honoured and made
prominent: conversely, the exception is laid aside, and shades are suppressed. All that which is 'firm, mighty, solid, life resting on a broad and powerful basis, concealing its strength--this " pleases ": i. e. it corresponds with what we think of ourselves.
820.
In the main I am much more in favour of artists than any philosopher that has appeared hitherto: artists, at least, did not lose "sight of the great course which life pursues; they loved the things "of this world,"--they loved their senses. To strive after "spirituality," in cases where this is not pure hypocrisy or self-deception, seems to me to be either a misunderstanding, a disease, or a
cure. I wish myself, and all those who live with out the troubles of a puritanical conscience, and who are able to live in this way, an ever greater spiritualisation and multiplication of the senses. Indeed, we would fain be grateful to the senses for
? ? ? ? spirit. physical
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
263
their subtlety, power, and plenitude, and on that account Offer them the best we have in the way of
What do we care about priestly and meta anathemas upon the senses? We no longer require to treat them in this way: it is a sign of well-constitutedness when a man like
Goethe clings with ever greater joy and heartiness to the " things of this world "--in this way he holds firmly to the grand concept of mankind, which is that man becomes the glorifying power
of existence when he learns to glorify himself.
821.
Pessimism in art ? --The artist gradually learns to like for their own sake, those means which bring about the condition of msthetic elation; extreme delicacy and glory of colour, definite delineation, quality of tone; distinctness where in normal conditions distinctness is absent. All distinct things, all nuances, in so far as they recall extreme degrees of power which give rise to intoxication, kindle this feeling of intoxication by association ;----the effect of works of art is the excitation of the state which creates art, of aesthetic intoxication.
The essential feature in art is its power of perfecting existence, its production of perfection and plenitude; art is essentially the affirmation, the blessing, and the deification of existence. . . . What does a pessimistic art signify? Is it not a contradictio? ----Yes. ----Schopenhauer is in error when he makes certain works of art serve the
? ? ? ? 264
THE WILL TO POWER.
purpose of pessimism. Tragedy does not teach "resignation. " . . . To represent terrible and questionable things in itself, the sign of an instinct of power and magnificence in the artist; he doesn't fear them. There no such thing as a pessimistic art. . . Art affirms. affirms. But Zola? and the Goncourts? ---the things they show us are ugly their reason, however, for showing them to us their love of ugliness. .
don't care what you say! You simply deceive yourselves you think otherwise--What relief Dostoievsky is!
822.
If have sufficiently initiated my readers into the doctrine that even "goodness," in the whole comedy of existence, represents form of exhaus tion, they will now credit Christianity with con sistency for having conceived the good to be the ugly. In this respect Christianity was right.
absolutely unworthy of a philosopher to say that "the good and the beautiful are one"; he should add " and also the true," he deserves to be thrashed. Truth ugly.
Art with us in order that we may not perish through truth.
823.
Moralising tendencies may be combated with art. Art freedom from moral bigotry and philosophy la Little Jack Horner: or may be the mockery of these things. The flight to Nature,
Job
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if
it
is
It is
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is
is . .
if
a
.
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;
is, .
is
? THE WILL TO POWER_IN ART.
where beauty and terribleness are coupled. The concept of the great man.
--Fragile, useless souls-de-luxe, which are dis concerted by mere breath of wind, " beautiful souls. "
--Ancient ideals, in their inexorable hardness and brutality, ought to be awakened, as the mightiest of monsters that they are.
--We should feel boisterous delight in the
of how all moralised artists become worms and actors without know--
265
? -
ing it.
-The falsity of art, its immorality, must be
brought into the light of day.
--The " fundamental idealising powers " (sensu
ality, intoxication, excessive animality) should be brought to light.
824.
Modern counterfeit practicesin the arts: regarded as necessary--that to say, as fully in keeping with the needs most proper to the modern soul.
The gaps in the gifts, and still more in the education, antecedents, and schooling of modern artists, are now filled up in this way :--
First: A less artistic public sought which capable of unlimited love (and capable of falling on its knees before personality). The superstition of our century, the belief in " genius," assists this process. .
Secondly Artists harangue the dark instincts of the dissatisfied, the ambitious, and the self-deceivers of democratic age: the importance of poses.
psychological perception '
? ? a
:
a
is
is
is
. *m\\". ,. g_. _'
is
a
a
? 266 THE WILL TO POWER.
Third/y : The procedures of one art are trans ferred to the realm of another; the object of art is confounded with that of science, with that of the Church, or with that of the interests of the race (nationalism), or with that of philosophy--4 man rings all bells at once, and awakens the vague suspicion that he is a god.
Fourth/y: Artists flatter women, sufferers, and indignant folk. Narcotics and opiates are made to preponderate in art. The fancy of cultured people, and of the readers of poetry and ancient history, is tickled.
825.
We must distinguish between the " public " and the " select "; to satisfy the public a man must be a charlatan to-day, to satisfy the select he will be a virtuoso and nothing else. The geniuses peculiar to our century overcame this distinction, they
were great for both; the great charlatanry of Victor Hugo and Richard Wagner was coupled with such genuine virtuosity that it even satisfied the most refined artistic connoisseurs. This is why greatness is lacking: these geniuses had a double outlook; first, they catered for the coarsest needs, and then for the most refined.
826.
False "accentuation": (1) In romanticism; this unremitting "eayressz'vo" is not a sign of strength, but of a feeling of deficiency;
(2) Picturesque music, the so-called dramatic
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
kind, is above all easier (as is also the brutal scandalmongering and the juxtaposition of facts and traits in realistic novels);
( 3) "Passion " as amatter of nerves and exhausted souls ; likewisethedelightin high mountains, deserts, storms, orgies, and disgusting details,--in bulkiness and massiveness (historians,forinstance) ; as a matter of fact, there is actually a cult of exaggerated feel ings (how is it that in stronger ages art desired
just the opposite--a restraint of passion P);
(4) The preference for exciting materials (Erotica
or Socialistica or Pathologica): all these things are the signs of the style of public that is being catered for to-day--that is to say, for overworked, absentminded, or enfeebled
to be affected.
827.
Modern art is the art of tyrannising. A coarse and salient definiteness in delineation; the motive simplified into a formula; formula tyrannise. Wild arabesques within the lines; overwhelming masses, before which the senses are confused; brutality in coloration, in subject~matter, in the desires. Examples: Zola, Wagner, and, in a more spiritualised degree, Taine. Hence logic, massiveness, and brutality.
828.
In regard to the painter: Tous ces modernes sont des pae'tes qui ont voulu e? tre peintres. L'un a
267
? people.
Such people must be tyrannised over in order
? ? ? 268 THE WILL To POWER.
cherche' des drames dans l'histoire, l'autre des scenes de moeurs, celui ci traduit des religions, celui la une
One imitates Raphael, another the early Italian masters. The landscapists employ trees and clouds in order to make odes and
elegies. Not one is simply a painter; they are all archaeologists, psychologists, and impresarios of one or another kind of event or theory. . They
philosophie.
enjoy our erudition and our philosophy.
they are full, and too full, of general ideas.
like a form, not because it is what it
because of what expresses. They are the scions of learned, tormented, and reflecting generation, a thousand miles away from the Old Masters who never read, and only concerned themselves with feasting their eyes.
829.
Like us, They but
? At bottom, even Wagner's music, in so far as stands for the whole of French romanticism, literature: the charm of exoticism (strange times, customs, passions), exercised upon sensitive cosy corner people.
dressed, ever caught cold? Never yet on this earth! I even suppose a case in which she has scarcely a rag'on her.
A 808.
If one should require the most astonishing proof of how far the power of transfiguring, which comes of intoxication, goes, this proof is at hand in "the phenomenon of love; or what is called love in all the languages and silences of' the world. Intoxication works to such a degree upon reality in this passion that in the consciousness of the lover the cause of his love is quite suppressed, and
something else seems to take its place,--a vibra tion and a glitter of all the charm-mirrors of Circe. . . . In this respect/t0 be man or an
? healthy!
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
animal makes no difference: and still less does spirit, goodness, or honesty. If one is astute, one is befooled astutely; if one is thick-headed, one is befooled in a thick-headed way. But love, even the love of God, saintly love, "the love that saves the soul," are at bottom all one; they are nothing but a fever which has reasons to trans-- figure itself--a state of intoxication which does well to lie about itself. . . . And, at any rate, when a man loves, he is a good liar about himself and to himself: he seems to himself transfigured, stronger, richer, more perfect; he is more per fect. . . . Art here acts as an organic function: we find it present in the most angelic instinct "love"; we find it as the greatest stimulus of life--thus art is sublimely utilitarian, even in the fact that it lies. . . . But we should be wrong to halt at its power to lie: it does more than merely imagine; it actually transposes values. And it not only transposes the feeling for values: the lover actually lzas a greater value; he is
In animals this condition gives rise to new weapons, colours, pigments, and forms, and above all to new movements, new rhythms, new love-calls and seductions. In man it is just the same. His whole economy is richer, mightier, and more complele When he is in love than when he is not. The lover becomes a spendthrift; he is rich enough for it. He now dares; he becomes an adventurer, and even a donkey in magnanimity
and innocence; his belief in God and in virtue revives, because he believes in love. Moreover, such idiots of happiness acquire wings and new
25!
? stgmger.
? ? ? 252
THE WILL TO POWER.
capacities, and even the door to art isIopened to them.
If we cancel the suggestion of this intestinal
the lyric of tones and words, what is left to poetry and music? . . . L'art pour l'art perhaps; the professional cant of frogs shivering outside in the cold, and dying of despair in their swamp. . . . Everything else was created by love.
809.
All art works like a suggestion on the muscles and the senses which were originally active in the ingenuous artistic man; its voice is only heard by artists--it speaks to this kind of man, whose constitution is attuned to such subtlety in sensi tiveness. The concept "layman " is a misnomer. The deaf man is not a subdivision of the class whose ears are sound. All art works as a tonic; it increases strength, it kindles desire (i. e. the feeling of strength), it excites all the more subtle recollections of intoxication; there is actually a
special kind of memory which underlies such states--a distant flitful world of sensations here
'
which art excludes, the negation of art: wherever decline, impoverishment of life, impotence, de composition, dissolution, are felt, however remotely, the aesthetic man reacts with his N0. Ugliness
feverfrom
? returns to being.
Ugliness is the contradiction of art. It is that
it is the sign of depression. It robs strength, it impoverishes, it weighs down. . . . Ugliness suggests repulsive things. From one's
dey>resses:
? ? ? THE WILL 'ro POWER IN ART.
states of health one can test how an indisposition may increase one's power of fancying ugly things. One's selection of things, interests, and questions becomes diflerent. Logic provides a state which is next of kin to-ugliness: heaviness, bluntness. In the presence of ugliness equilibrium is lacking
in a mechanical sense: ugliness limps and stumbles--the direct opposite of the godly agility of the dancer.
The aesthetic state represents an overflow of means of communication as well as a condition of extreme sensibility to stimuli and signs. It is the zenith of communion _ and transmission between living creatures; it is the source of languages. In languages, whether of signs, sounds, or glances, have their birthplace. The richer phenomenon always the beginning: our abilities are subtilised forms of richer abilities. But'even to-day we still listen with our muscles,
'
as basis: in so far as language. Con vention condition of great art, not an obstacle to it. . . Every elevation of life likewise elevates the power of communication, as also the under standing Of man. The power of living in other
souls originally had nothing to do with morality,-but with a physiological irritability of suggestion: "sympathy," or what called "altruism," merely product of that psycho motor relationship which reckoned as spirituality (psycho-motor induction, says Charles
People never communicate thought to one
people's
Fe? re? ).
253
? we even read with our muscles.
Every mature art possesses host of conventions
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? 254
THE WILL TO POWER.
another: they communicate a movement, an imitative sign which is then interpreted as a thought.
810.
Compared with music, communication by means of words is a shameless mode of procedure; words reduce and stultify; words make impersonal; words make common that which is uncommon.
8II.
It is exceptional states that determine the artist--such states as are all intimately related and entwined with morbid symptoms, so that it would seem almost impossible to be an artist
- without being ill.
The physiological conditions which in the artist
become moulded into a "personality," and which, to a certain degree, may attach themselves to any man :--
(I) Intoxication, the feeling of enhanced power ; the inner compulsion to make things a mirror of one's own fulness and perfection.
The extreme sharpness of certain senses, so that they are capable of understanding a totally different language of signs--and to create such a language (this is a condition which manifests itself in some nervous diseases); extreme susceptibility
out of which great powers of communion are developed; the desire to speak on the part of everything that is capable of making signs ; a need
of being rid of one's self by means of gestures
? (2)
? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 255
and attitudes; the ability of speaking about one's
self in hundred different languages--in fact,
state of explosion.
One must first imagine this condition as one in
which there pressing and compulsory desire of
ridding one's self of the costasy of state of tension,
by all kinds of muscular work and movement; also as an involuntary co-ordination of these move
ments with inner processes (images, thoughts, desires)--as kind of automatism of the whole muscular system under the compulsion of strong
from within; the inability to reaction; the apparatus of resistance
stimuli acting
resist
also suspended.
Every inner movement (feeling, accompanied by vascular
? thought, emotion)
changes, and consequently by changes in colour,
and secretion. The suggestive power of music, its "suggestion mentale. "
temperature,
The compulsion to imitate: extreme irritabil ity, by means of which certain example becomes
(3)
condition guessed and represented merely by means of few signs. A complete
contagious--a
visualised by one's inner consciousness, and its effect soon shows itself in the movement of the 1imbs,--in certain suspension of the will
picture Mg
A sort of blindness and deafness towards the external world,--the realm
of admitted stimuli sharply defined.
This differentiates the artist from the layman
(from the spectator of art): the latter reaches the height of his excitement in the mere act of appre
(Schopenhauer!
the former in giving--and in such way that the antagonism between these two gifts not
hending:
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THE WILL TO POWER.
only natural but even desirable. Each of these states has an opposite standpoint--to demand of the artist that he should have the point of view _of the spectator (of the critic) is equivalent to asking him to impoverish his creative power. . . . In this respect the same difference holds good as that which exists between the sexes: one should not ask the artist who gives to become a woman--to "receive. "
Our aesthetics have hitherto been women's aesthetics, inasmuch as they have only formulated the experiences of what is beautiful, from the point of view of the receivers in art. In the whole of philosophy hitherto the artist has been lacking . . . Le. as we have already suggested, a necessary fault: for the artist who would begin to under stand himself would therewith begin to mistake
himself--he must not look backwards, he must not look at all; he must give. --It is an honour for an artist to have no critical faculty; if he can criticise he is mediocre, he is modern.
812.
Here I lay down a series of psychological states as signs of flourishing and complete life, which to-day we are in the habit of regarding as morbid. But, by this time, we have broken ourselves of the habit of speaking of healthy and morbid as opposites: the question is one of degree,--what I maintain on this point is that what people call healthy nowadays represents a lower level of that
which under favourable circumstances actually would be healthy--that we are relatively sick. . . .
? ? ? ? i
The artist belongs to much Strofiger race. That which in us would be harmful and sickly, natural in him. But people object to this that pre cisely the impoverishment of the machine which renders this extraordinary power of comprehending every kind of suggestion possible: eg. our hysteri cal females.
An overflow of spunk and energy may quite as well lead to symptoms of partial constraint, sense hallucinations, peripheral sensitiveness, as poor vitality does--the stimuli are differently deter mined, the effect the same. What not.
i 'the same above all the ultimate result; the extreme torpidity of all morbid natures, after their nervous eccentricities, has nothing in common with the states of the artist, who need in no wise repent his best moments. He rich enough for all: he can squander without becoming poor.
"Just as we now feel justified in judging genius as form of neurosis, we may perhaps think the same of artistic suggestive power,-- and our artists are, as matter of fact, only too closely related to hysterical females This, however,
only an argument against the present day, and not against artists in general.
The inartistic states are: objectivity, reflection
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
257
? of the will . (Schopenhauer's scandal ous misunderstanding consisted in regarding art as
mere bridge to the denial of life) . . . The in artistic states are: those which impoverish, which subtract, which bleach, under which life suffers--
the Christian. VOL. II.
suspension
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813.
The modern artist who, in his physiology, is next of kin to the hysteric, may also be classified as a character belonging to this state of morbid ness. The hysteric is false,--he lies from the love of lying, he is admirable in all the arts of dissimulation,--unless his morbid vanity hood wink him. This vanity is like a perpetual fever which is in need of stupefying drugs, and which
recoils from no self-deception and no farce that
promises it the most fleeting satisfaction. incapacity for pride and the need of continual revenge for his deep-rooted self-contempL--this is almost the definition of this man's vanity. )
The absurd irritability of his system, which makes a crisis out of every one of his experiences,
and sees dramatic elements in the most
cant occurrences Of life, deprives him of all calm reflection: he ceases from being a personality, at most he is a rendezvous of personalities of which first one and then the other asserts itself with barefaced assurance. Precisely on this account he is great as an actor: all these poor will-less people, whom doctors study so profoundly, astound one
through their virtuosity in mimicking, in trans figuration, in their assumption of almost any character required.
814.
Artists are not men of great passion, despite all their assertions to the contrary both to themselves and to others. And for the following two reasons :
insignifi
(The
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.
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
they lack all shyness towards themselves (they watch themselves live, they spy upon themselves, they are much too inquisitive), and they also lack shyness in the presence of passion (as artists they exploit it).
Secondly, however, that vampire,
'their talent, generally forbids them such an ex penditure of energy as passion demands--A man who has a talent is sacrificed to that talent; he lives under the vampirism of his talent.
A man does not get rid of his passion by re producing but rather he rid of he able to reproduce it. (Goethe teaches the reverse, but
seems as though he deliberately misunderstood h'imself here--from sense of delicacy. )
815.
Concerning a reasonable mode of life--Relative chastity, fundamental and shrewd caution in regard to erotica, even _in thought, may be reason able mode of life even in richly equipped and
perhaps
natures. But this principle applies more
perfect
particularly
wisdom of their lives. Wholly trustworthy voices have already been raised in favour of this view, e. g. Stendhal, Th. Gautier, and Flaubert. The artist
in his way necessarily sensual man, generally susceptible, accessible to everything, and capable of responding to the remotest stimulus or suggestion of stimulus. Nevertheless, as rule he in the power of his work, of his will to mastership, really sober and Often even chaste man. His dominating instinct will have him so:
to artists; belongs to the best
259
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? 260 THE WILL TO POWER.
it does not allow him to spend himself haphazardly. It is one and the same form of strength which is
in artistic, conception and in the sexual act: there is only one form of strength. The artist who yields in this respect, and who spends himself, is betrayed: by so doing he reveals his lack of instinct, his lack of will in general. It may be a sign of decadence,--in any case it re duces the value of his art to an incalculable degree.
816.
Compared with the artist, the scientific ma'i,
as a phenomenon, is indeed a sign of' a certain storing-up and levelling-down of life (but also of an increase of strength, severity, hardness, and will-power). To what extent can falsity and indifference towards truth and utility be a sign of youth, of childishness, in the artist? . . . Their habitual manner, their unreasonableness, their ignorance of themselves, their indifference to "eternal values," their seriousness in play, their lack of dignity; clowns and gods in one; the saint and the rabble. . . . Imitation as an imperi ous instinct--Do not artists of ascending life and artists of degeneration belong to all phases? . . . Yes!
817.
Would any link be missing in the whole chain of science and art, if woman, if woman's work, were excluded from it? Let us acknowledge the
spent
regarded
'
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART. 261
exception--it proves the rule--that woman capable of perfection in everything which does not constitute work: in letters, in memoirs, in the most intricate handiwork--in short, in everything which not craft; and just precisely because in the things mentioned woman perfects herself, be cause in them she obeys the only artistic impulse in her nature,--which to captivate. . . But what has woman to do with the passionate indiffer ence of the genuine artist who sees more importance in breath, in sound, in the merest trifle, than in himself ? ---who with all his five fingers gropes for his most secret and hidden treasures P--who attri butes no value to anything unless knows how to take shape (unless surrenders itself, unless visualises itself in some way). Art as practised by artists--do you not understand what
is? not an outrage on all our pudeursP . Only in this century has woman dared to try her hand at literature (" Vers la canai/leplumz'e? re e'crz'v assz'e? re," to speak with old Mirabeau): woman now writes, she now paints, she losing her instincts.
? And to what purpose, question
818
A man an artist to the extent to which he regards everything that inartistic people call "form" as the actual substance, as the "prin cipal" thing. With such ideas man certainly belongs to world upside down: for hencefor ward substance seems to him something merely formal,----his own life included.
one may put such
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819.
A sense for, and a delight in, nuances (which is characteristic of modernity), in that which is not general, runs counter to the instinct which finds its joy and its strength in grasping what is typical: like Greek taste in its best period. In this there is an overcoming of the plenitude of life ; restraint dominates, the peace of the strong soul which is slow to move and which feels a certain repug nance towards excessive activity is defeated. The general rule, the law, is honoured and made
prominent: conversely, the exception is laid aside, and shades are suppressed. All that which is 'firm, mighty, solid, life resting on a broad and powerful basis, concealing its strength--this " pleases ": i. e. it corresponds with what we think of ourselves.
820.
In the main I am much more in favour of artists than any philosopher that has appeared hitherto: artists, at least, did not lose "sight of the great course which life pursues; they loved the things "of this world,"--they loved their senses. To strive after "spirituality," in cases where this is not pure hypocrisy or self-deception, seems to me to be either a misunderstanding, a disease, or a
cure. I wish myself, and all those who live with out the troubles of a puritanical conscience, and who are able to live in this way, an ever greater spiritualisation and multiplication of the senses. Indeed, we would fain be grateful to the senses for
? ? ? ? spirit. physical
THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
263
their subtlety, power, and plenitude, and on that account Offer them the best we have in the way of
What do we care about priestly and meta anathemas upon the senses? We no longer require to treat them in this way: it is a sign of well-constitutedness when a man like
Goethe clings with ever greater joy and heartiness to the " things of this world "--in this way he holds firmly to the grand concept of mankind, which is that man becomes the glorifying power
of existence when he learns to glorify himself.
821.
Pessimism in art ? --The artist gradually learns to like for their own sake, those means which bring about the condition of msthetic elation; extreme delicacy and glory of colour, definite delineation, quality of tone; distinctness where in normal conditions distinctness is absent. All distinct things, all nuances, in so far as they recall extreme degrees of power which give rise to intoxication, kindle this feeling of intoxication by association ;----the effect of works of art is the excitation of the state which creates art, of aesthetic intoxication.
The essential feature in art is its power of perfecting existence, its production of perfection and plenitude; art is essentially the affirmation, the blessing, and the deification of existence. . . . What does a pessimistic art signify? Is it not a contradictio? ----Yes. ----Schopenhauer is in error when he makes certain works of art serve the
? ? ? ? 264
THE WILL TO POWER.
purpose of pessimism. Tragedy does not teach "resignation. " . . . To represent terrible and questionable things in itself, the sign of an instinct of power and magnificence in the artist; he doesn't fear them. There no such thing as a pessimistic art. . . Art affirms. affirms. But Zola? and the Goncourts? ---the things they show us are ugly their reason, however, for showing them to us their love of ugliness. .
don't care what you say! You simply deceive yourselves you think otherwise--What relief Dostoievsky is!
822.
If have sufficiently initiated my readers into the doctrine that even "goodness," in the whole comedy of existence, represents form of exhaus tion, they will now credit Christianity with con sistency for having conceived the good to be the ugly. In this respect Christianity was right.
absolutely unworthy of a philosopher to say that "the good and the beautiful are one"; he should add " and also the true," he deserves to be thrashed. Truth ugly.
Art with us in order that we may not perish through truth.
823.
Moralising tendencies may be combated with art. Art freedom from moral bigotry and philosophy la Little Jack Horner: or may be the mockery of these things. The flight to Nature,
Job
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where beauty and terribleness are coupled. The concept of the great man.
--Fragile, useless souls-de-luxe, which are dis concerted by mere breath of wind, " beautiful souls. "
--Ancient ideals, in their inexorable hardness and brutality, ought to be awakened, as the mightiest of monsters that they are.
--We should feel boisterous delight in the
of how all moralised artists become worms and actors without know--
265
? -
ing it.
-The falsity of art, its immorality, must be
brought into the light of day.
--The " fundamental idealising powers " (sensu
ality, intoxication, excessive animality) should be brought to light.
824.
Modern counterfeit practicesin the arts: regarded as necessary--that to say, as fully in keeping with the needs most proper to the modern soul.
The gaps in the gifts, and still more in the education, antecedents, and schooling of modern artists, are now filled up in this way :--
First: A less artistic public sought which capable of unlimited love (and capable of falling on its knees before personality). The superstition of our century, the belief in " genius," assists this process. .
Secondly Artists harangue the dark instincts of the dissatisfied, the ambitious, and the self-deceivers of democratic age: the importance of poses.
psychological perception '
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? 266 THE WILL TO POWER.
Third/y : The procedures of one art are trans ferred to the realm of another; the object of art is confounded with that of science, with that of the Church, or with that of the interests of the race (nationalism), or with that of philosophy--4 man rings all bells at once, and awakens the vague suspicion that he is a god.
Fourth/y: Artists flatter women, sufferers, and indignant folk. Narcotics and opiates are made to preponderate in art. The fancy of cultured people, and of the readers of poetry and ancient history, is tickled.
825.
We must distinguish between the " public " and the " select "; to satisfy the public a man must be a charlatan to-day, to satisfy the select he will be a virtuoso and nothing else. The geniuses peculiar to our century overcame this distinction, they
were great for both; the great charlatanry of Victor Hugo and Richard Wagner was coupled with such genuine virtuosity that it even satisfied the most refined artistic connoisseurs. This is why greatness is lacking: these geniuses had a double outlook; first, they catered for the coarsest needs, and then for the most refined.
826.
False "accentuation": (1) In romanticism; this unremitting "eayressz'vo" is not a sign of strength, but of a feeling of deficiency;
(2) Picturesque music, the so-called dramatic
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER IN ART.
kind, is above all easier (as is also the brutal scandalmongering and the juxtaposition of facts and traits in realistic novels);
( 3) "Passion " as amatter of nerves and exhausted souls ; likewisethedelightin high mountains, deserts, storms, orgies, and disgusting details,--in bulkiness and massiveness (historians,forinstance) ; as a matter of fact, there is actually a cult of exaggerated feel ings (how is it that in stronger ages art desired
just the opposite--a restraint of passion P);
(4) The preference for exciting materials (Erotica
or Socialistica or Pathologica): all these things are the signs of the style of public that is being catered for to-day--that is to say, for overworked, absentminded, or enfeebled
to be affected.
827.
Modern art is the art of tyrannising. A coarse and salient definiteness in delineation; the motive simplified into a formula; formula tyrannise. Wild arabesques within the lines; overwhelming masses, before which the senses are confused; brutality in coloration, in subject~matter, in the desires. Examples: Zola, Wagner, and, in a more spiritualised degree, Taine. Hence logic, massiveness, and brutality.
828.
In regard to the painter: Tous ces modernes sont des pae'tes qui ont voulu e? tre peintres. L'un a
267
? people.
Such people must be tyrannised over in order
? ? ? 268 THE WILL To POWER.
cherche' des drames dans l'histoire, l'autre des scenes de moeurs, celui ci traduit des religions, celui la une
One imitates Raphael, another the early Italian masters. The landscapists employ trees and clouds in order to make odes and
elegies. Not one is simply a painter; they are all archaeologists, psychologists, and impresarios of one or another kind of event or theory. . They
philosophie.
enjoy our erudition and our philosophy.
they are full, and too full, of general ideas.
like a form, not because it is what it
because of what expresses. They are the scions of learned, tormented, and reflecting generation, a thousand miles away from the Old Masters who never read, and only concerned themselves with feasting their eyes.
829.
Like us, They but
? At bottom, even Wagner's music, in so far as stands for the whole of French romanticism, literature: the charm of exoticism (strange times, customs, passions), exercised upon sensitive cosy corner people.
