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‘Behold, Friedrich Nietzsche, The Man’
Lonnie Porter

Poet, musician, philosopher: Friedrich Nietzsche was all this and more. Virtually unknown during his life, maligned for decades after his death because of the mishandling and misinterpreting of his work, Nietzsche was arguably the most original thinker of his time. Although his ideas may not have been original, his way of looking at these ideas very much was. But who was he? Who was the man that was Friedrich Nietzsche?

 

In October of 1844, Friedrich Nietzsche was born into a family that had been Lutheran pastors for five generations. His early life was uneventful until July of 1849, when his father, who had been seriously ill for months, died. A physician who saw Herr Pastor Nietzsche before his death diagnosed him as having a ‘softening of the brain,’ and said the situation was not hopeless, but was indeed very grave.1 The father also suffered from what appeared to be epileptic seizures throughout his life and in his last days, according to Friedrich, he suffered immense pain. Nietzsche carried very fond memories of his father throughout his days, and was even able to give accurate descriptions of him forty years later.

The year 1858 finds young Fritz on his way to the boarding school at Pforta, where he is immersed in the studies of ancient Greece and Rome – classical philology. As a student, this is the area he excelled in. As his father had been a pastor, his original intent was to follow in pater’s footsteps so he began studies in theology. This posed a problem, since a linguist he was not. He was unable to master Hebrew grammar, could only read French with a dictionary and, even while living in Italy later in life, he was never able to learn Italian. Math and science were not emphasized at Pforta, and these turned out to be Nietzsche’s worst subjects. His failure of the final math exam almost held him back from university entrance.

Pforta is where Fritz learned to think critically and he started applying this skill to his reading of the Bible. He had always been a pious lad, but reading the Scriptures in a critical manner started raising doubts in his mind about the truth of the Christian religion as taught by the Church. He and Paul Deussen, a young man who would be one of Fritz’s closest, life-long friends, were confirmed in the Lutheran Church on Easter Sunday of 1861. Both claimed to be living in what they described as a state of ‘religious fervor’ at this point in their lives, and this frevor carried on for about a year after their confirmation. Their passion started cooling when they began analysing the Bible and Church dogma as they would any other subject. In 1865, while at the university in Leipzig, they both read a book by David Strauss called Life of Jesus, a work that was central to the de-mythologizing of Christianity at that time. Deussen wholeheartedly supported the assertions in this book, and appears to have totally lost his faith. Nietzsche warned him that if he gave up Christ, he would have to give up God as well. Fritz realized that if God were no longer ‘alive’ in the human psyche, life as we know it would be meaningless. 2 While Nietzsche seems to have lost his faith in the Church, he never lost faith in God.

One thing strikes me as being central to Nietzsche’s loss of faith – his Lutheran upbringing. During his theological studies, Fritz had developed a deep love and respect for the Jewish people. He said the Jews had given us the the noblest human being in Christ, the purest sage in Spinoza, the mightiest book, and the most effective moral code in the world. In contrast, Martin Luther, Nietzsche believed, had been a staunch anti-Semite. While he admired Luther for his writing style and for facing down the Catholic church to remain true to his intellectual conscience, it was Luther’s anti-Semitic writitngs that Nietzsche had a difficult time coming to grips with. This, coupled with his application of critical thinking to faith in general, started his doubts about religion as an institution. These doubts are the reason he left his studies of theology and took up the study of philology at the University of Bonn.

It was also during his Pforta years that Fritz’s health issues started rearing their ugly head. The school’s registry records several times that he was excused from classes due to severe headaches, eye strain, and various other maladies. There is also the inadvertent trip to the brothel in 1865 that, according to one source, led to nightly visits to brothels in Leipzig.3 It is speculated that these vistits are where he allegedly contracted syphillis. These issues, especially the headaches, would plague him until the end of his days, and prompted an early retirement from his professorship at the university in Basel.

 


Three things were central to Nietzsche’s life and formed the core of his being: poetry, music, and writing. His poetry and writing styles had been developing since childhood. He also learned to play the piano at an early age, becoming very good at improvisation. This creative nature was his driving force and formed an outlet for his free thinking beliefs. He came to see truth and knowledge as a matter of individual perspective; what may be true to or for one person may not be true for someone else. He also said there is no absolute knowledge; knowledge is constrained by one’s perspective. It was this philosophy of “perspectivism” and his loss of faith in the Church that started his mother and sister worrying about his soul.

He was also a keen observer of the human condition. Fritz saw nationalistic sentiments, industrialization, and the institution of religion as infringements on the creativity of people. He saw these ideals as propagators of a “master and slave morality,” creating in mankind a herd animal mentality in which people of the “slave morality” simply follow what is laid out by their leaders, those of the “master morality,” without thinking for themselves about the consequences of their actions. It was his free thinking attitude and belief in creativity that made him despise these ideals, and he hated them all equally.

While he saw industrialization and religion as crushing the spirit of man, he saw even greater dangers in nationalism. When he received his appointment to the professorship at the university in Basel, he was required to reliquish his Prussian citizenship, which he did. However, he never completed the requirements to obtain Swiss citizenship and for the rest of his life he was a man without a country. He had begun to develop an attitude of being a “good European” earlier in his life, and that is how he saw himself until his death. Nietzsche was appalled at the unification of Germany in 1870 and in 1874 wrote the following:

Political superiority without any real human superiority is most harmful. One must seek to make amends for political superiority. To be ashamed of one’s power. [. . .] Everybody thinks that the Germans may now rest on their moral and intellectual superiority. [. . .] This is an ignominious misunderstanding; there are seeds for the most glorious development of man. And these must perish for the sake of the state? What, after all, is a state? [. . .] Tremendous power. The only way to use the present kind of German power correctly is to comprehend the tremendous obligation which lies in it. Any slackening of cultural tasks would turn this power into the most revolting tyranny.4

Further, in his book Ecce Homo (Behold, the Man), he prophetically proclaimed, “I know my destiny. Someday my name will be associated with the memory of something tremendous, a crisis like no other on earth, the profoundest collision of conscience, a decision conjured up against everything that had been believed, required, and held sacred up to that time.”5 It gives the impression he was somehow aware that his work, combined with strong nationalistic tendencies, would help to usher in a monster that became Adolf Hitler.

 


Nietzsche has been accused by his detractors as being mysoginistic. This, I feel, is a lack of understanding of the man’s sense of humor, which I find to be wildly sarcastic. His friend Paul Deussen says that his feelings toward women were acutually quite the opposite and this is backed up by comments made by women who were Nietzsche’s friends.6 He held women in high regard, and loved women that he considered his intellectual equal or could be educated to reach that point. A comment Fritz made concerning marriage shows his sarcastic and sometimes self-depricating side. Deussen reports that Nietzshe said a woman should be totally absorbed in the service and care of her husband and that he could probably wear out three wives himself.7

It was never Nietzsche’s desire to remain unmarried. He saw marriage as a conversation. He was concerned only with the issue of “could this person be talked to as we grow old together.” His problem lay in the fact that he would become acquainted with someone and propose marriage quickly in the relationship. Of course, this would frighten the young girl in question, she would say no, and the relationship would break off. This was not the case when he met one Louise Andreas-Salome.

Lou Salome was the daughter of a Russian general and was living in Italy with her mother off the military pension of her deceased father. Impressed by her intellect and wit, Paul Rée wrote to Nietzsche that he had to come to Rome and meet this girl. On meeting her, Fritz was instantly smitten by her good looks, charm, and mind. Not wanting to scare this one off, Nietzsche asked Rée to propose for him. She declined. Thinking that Rée had not made matters clear to Lou, he later proposed himself. Again she declined, making it perfectly clear to Nietzsche, as she had to Rée in the past, that she was not interested in a physical relationship or marriage with either of them, or with anyone else for that matter. What she was interested in was an intellectual ‘menage-au-trois’ consisting of herself, Rée, and Nietzsche. If he couldn’t have her body, at least he could have her mind. Fritz agreed and plans were made to meet in Vienna for the winter. Problem: Lou needed a chaperone to get her to Austria. Who better, Nietzsche thought, than his own beloved sister, Elisabeth. This choice would prove to have dire consequences.

Elisabeth Nietzsche had for many years been her brother’s confidante and sometimes secretary. Never being close to the intellectual giant her brother was, it is a wonder he ever confided anything to her. On meeting Lou, she knew she was in trouble. Miss Salome was smart, witty, and independent, everything that Elisabeth was not. Jealousy provoked an instant disliking. Couple that with the fact Elisabeth knew she would no longer be in Fritz’s confidence and Fraulein Nietzsche figured this woman had to go. To accomplish this, Elisabeth started writing letters to her brother saying that Rée and Salome were slandering and ridiculing him behind his back. She wrote letters to her family saying that what was intended as a meeting of like minds was really a scandalous sexual adventure dreamed up by the young Russian woman, to which her brother was a willing participant. She feared for him and for his soul.

This propoganda attack worked too well, and it didn’t help matters that, after a meeting in Leipzig between the three, Rée and Salome left together and were not seen by Fritz again. When Nietzsche heard he was being insulted, and realized he had been dumped, he proceeded to go on an attack of his own. Harsh words were exchanged in letters and the three never spoke again. Thanks to Elisabeth’s meddling, what could have turned into a very productive relationship ended in emotional tragedy. Months later, when Nietzsche realized what had actually happened, he broke off all ties with his sister and tried to seek forgiveness. He got no reply from Rée and it is unclear if Lou ever found out Nietzsche was trying to mend fences and make contact again. Asked if he would make any further attempts at rebuilding the relationship, Nietzsche said sadly, “what I have done cannot be forgiven.”

For Lou’s part, she was always confused as to why Nietzsche turned on them. She was painfully aware Elisabeth didn’t like her, but never understood what had caused Fritz to come after her and Rée with such vehemence. Lou suspected Elisabeth may have been involved in the break-up but wasn’t sure how. Both women absolutely hated each other until the day they died.
While Nietzsche seemed to have a rather cavalier attitude toward marriage, I believe this attitude stems more from his physical condition rather than his philosophy. Let’s examine this closer.

 

Fact #1: His father suffered from what was thought to be “epileptic fits.”

Fact #2: The father suffered from what has been described as ‘dementia’ in the last months of his life.

Fact #3: The father’s death was diagnosed as a “softening of the brain.”

Fact #4: The son suffered from severe, debilitating headaches and vision problems from a young
age to the end of his life.

Fact #5: The son collapsed in Turin from what was thought to be a stroke, was mentally incapaci-
tated, (demented?) and died a lingering death.

 

I will be the first to admit that I am not a doctor. All I have to offer in regards to this subject is personal observation, so take the following suggestion for what it’s worth: I propose that, possible syphilis aside (there is evidence he may not have had this disease, but was misdiagnosed), both father and son had brain tumors. I have seen people with inoperable brain tumors that behaved physically the way Nietzsche and his father did, with the epileptic fits, headaches, and poor vision. We could also include the tumor theory I propose with the accepted belief that he did have syphilis. In either case, I believe Nietzsche knew his physical challenges were dire, possibly hereditary, and did not want to pass this on to another generation. His flippant comment about “wearing out three wives by myself” and the actions that kept him at arms length from all but Lou Salome (whom he pursued with the tenacity of a hunting dog) indicates he did not want to burden anyone with his problems, believing he would die quickly when the end finally did come for him.

This brings us to how Nietzsche behaved as a friend, or if , indeed, he was a friend to anyone. His detractors seem to think he was incapable of friendship, and I confess I was drawing the same conclusion early in my research. Yes, he could be harsh, sometimes over-harsh, and it did cost him some very dear relationships, as with Ree and Salome. On the whole, however, I have found him to be a gentle, highly introspective man that valued friends above almost anything else in life. He had two close friends from his youth, Deussen and Erwin Rhode, and many of the acquaintances he made later in life remained friends with him until he died. He did prefer to be with people that were either slightly less intellectual than himself, or were his equal and it was these relationships of eqality that helped spur him to greater thought.

His introspection started in his childhood, and it was these self-musings, along with his observations of others, that appears to be the basis for his developing philosophies. He saw all of life as an experiment, and felt there was always something to learn. And as he learned he did his best to pass it on. Is it his fault that we mortals think too linearly to really grasp his thoughts?


End Notes


1) Hollingdale, pg. 9
2) Ibid, pg. 33
3) Peters, pg 26
4) Nietzsche, Kaufmann trans., pg 48
5) Safransky, p28
6) Gillman, pg52
7) Ibid, ppg. 24, 168

Works Cited

Gilman, Sander L. Conversations with Nietzsche. Trans. David J. Parent. New York: Oxford UP,

1987.

Hollingdale, R.J. Nietzsche: The Man and His Philosophy. New York: Cambridge UP, 1999.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Nietzsche. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Viking Penguin, 1982.

Peters, H.F. Zarathustra’s Sister. New York: Crown, 1977.

Safransky, Rudiger. Nietzsche: A Philisophical Biography. Trans. Shelly Frisch. New York: Norton,

2002.

Nominated by by Patricia McFarland, Ph.D., History