Our father was thirty-one years of age, and our mother not quite nineteen, when my brother was born. Our mother, who was the daughter of a clergyman, was good-looking and healthy, and was one of a very large family of sons and daughters. Our paternal12 grandparents, the Rev13. Oehler and his wife, in Pobles, were typically healthy people. Strength, robustness15, lively dispositions17, and a cheerful outlook on life, were among the qualities which every one was pleased to observe in them. Our grandfather Oehler was a bright, clever man, and quite the old style of comfortable country parson, who thought it no sin to go hunting. He scarcely had a day's illness in his life, and would certainly not have met with his end as early as he did—that is to say, before his seventieth year—if his careless disregard of all caution, where his health was concerned, had not led to his catching18 a severe and fatal cold. In regard to our[Pg ii] grand-mother Oehler, who died in her eighty-second year, all that can be said is, that if all German women were possessed19 of the health she enjoyed, the German nation would excel all others from the standpoint of vitality20. She bore our grandfather eleven children; gave each of them the breast for nearly the whole of its first year, and reared them all It is said that the sight of these eleven children, at ages varying from nineteen years to one month, with their powerful build, rosy21 cheeks, beaming eyes, and wealth of curly locks, provoked the admiration22 of all visitors. Of course, despite their extraordinarily23 good health, the life of this family was not by any means all sunshine. Each of the children was very spirited, wilful24, and obstinate25, and it was therefore no simple matter to keep them in order. Moreover, though they always showed the utmost respect and most implicit26 obedience27 to their parents—even as aged29" target="_blank">middle-aged28 men and women—misunderstandings between themselves were of constant occurrence. Our Oehler grandparents were fairly well-to-do; for our grandmother hailed from a very old family, who had been extensive land-owners in the neighbourhood of Zeitz for centuries, and her father owned the baronial estate of Wehlitz and a magnificent seat near Zeitz in Pacht. When she married, her father gave her carriages and horses, a coachman, a cook, and a kitchenmaid, which for the wife of a German minister was then, and is still, something quite exceptional. As a result of the wars in the beginning of the nineteenth century, however, our great-grandfather lost the greater part of his property.
[Pg iii]
Our father's family was also in fairly comfortable circumstances, and likewise very large. Our grandfather Dr. Nietzsche (D.D. and Superintendent) married twice, and had in all twelve children, of whom three died young. Our grandfather on this side, whom I never knew, must certainly have been a distinguished30, dignified31, very learned and reserved man; his second wife—our beloved grandmother—was an active-minded, intelligent, and exceptionally good-natured woman. The whole of our father's family, which I only got to know when they were very advanced in years, were remarkable32 for their great power of self-control, their lively interest in intellectual matters, and a strong sense of family unity33, which manifested itself both in their splendid readiness to help one another and in their very excellent relations with each other. Our father was the youngest son, and, thanks to his uncommonly35 lovable disposition16, together with other gifts, which only tended to become more marked as he grew older, he was quite the favourite of the family. Blessed with a thoroughly36 sound constitution, as all averred37 who knew him at the convent-school in Rossleben, at the University, or later at the ducal court of Altenburg, he was tall and slender, possessed an undoubted gift for poetry and real musical talent, and was moreover a man of delicate sensibilities, full of consideration for his whole family, and distinguished in his manners.
My brother often refers to his Polish descent, and in later years he even instituted research-work with the view of establishing it, which met with partial success. I know nothing definite concerning these[Pg iv] investigations38, because a large number of valuable documents were unfortunately destroyed after his breakdown39 in Turin. The family tradition was that a certain Polish nobleman Nicki (pronounced Nietzky) had obtained the special favour of Augustus the Strong, King of Poland, and had received the rank of Earl from him. When, however, Stanislas Leszcysski the Pole became king, our supposed ancestor became involved in a conspiracy40 in favour of the Saxons and Protestants. He was sentenced to death; but, taking flight, according to the evidence of the documents, he was ultimately befriended by a certain Earl of Brühl, who gave him a small post in an obscure little provincial41 town. Occasionally our aged aunts would speak of our great-grandfather Nietzsche, who was said to have died in his ninety-first year, and words always seemed to fail them when they attempted to describe his handsome appearance, good breeding, and vigour42. Our ancestors, both on the Nietzsche and the Oehler side, were very long-lived. Of the four pairs of great-grandparents, one great-grandfather reached the age of ninety, five great-grandmothers and-fathers died between eighty-two and eighty-six years of age, and two only failed to reach their seventieth year.
The sorrow which hung as a cloud over our branch of the family was our father's death, as the result of a heavy fall, at the age of thirty-eight. One night, upon leaving some friends whom he had accompanied home, he was met at the door of the vicarage by our little dog. The little animal must have got between his feet, for he stumbled and fell[Pg v] backwards43 down seven stone steps on to the paving-stones of the vicarage courtyard. As a result of this fall, he was laid up with concussion44 of the brain, and, after a lingering illness, which lasted eleven months, he died on the 30th of July 1849. The early death of our beloved and highly-gifted father spread gloom over the whole of our childhood. In 1850 our mother withdrew with us to Naumburg on the Saale, where she took up her abode45 with our widowed grandmother Nietzsche; and there she brought us up with Spartan46 severity and simplicity47, which, besides being typical of the period, was quite de rigeur in her family. Of course, Grand-mamma Nietzsche helped somewhat to temper her daughter-in-law's severity, and in this respect our Oehler grandparents, who were less rigorous with us, their eldest48 grandchildren, than with their own children, were also very influential49. Grandfather Oehler was the first who seems to have recognised the extraordinary talents of his eldest grandchild.
From his earliest childhood upwards50, my brother was always strong and healthy; he often declared that he must have been taken for a peasant-boy throughout his childhood and youth, as he was so plump, brown, and rosy. The thick fair hair which fell picturesquely51 over his shoulders tended somewhat to modify his robust14 appearance. Had he not possessed those wonderfully beautiful, large, and expressive53 eyes, however, and had he not been so very ceremonious in his manner, neither his teachers nor his relatives would ever have noticed anything at all remarkable about the boy; for he was both modest and reserved.
[Pg vi]
He received his early schooling54 at a preparatory school, and later at a grammar school in Naumburg. In the autumn of 1858, when he was fourteen years of age, he entered the Pforta school, so famous for the scholars it has produced. There, too, very severe discipline prevailed, and much was exacted from the pupils, with the view of inuring55 them to great mental and physical exertions56. Thus, if my brother seems to lay particular stress upon the value of rigorous training, free from all sentimentality, it should be remembered that he speaks from experience in this respect. At Pforta he followed the regular school course, and he did not enter a university until the comparatively late age of twenty. His extraordinary gifts manifested themselves chiefly in his independent and private studies and artistic57 efforts. As a boy his musical talent had already been so noticeable, that he himself and other competent judges were doubtful as to whether he ought not perhaps to devote himself altogether to music. It is, however, worth noting that everything he did in his later years, whether in Latin, Greek, or German work, bore the stamp of perfection—subject of course to the limitation imposed upon him by his years. His talents came very suddenly to the fore6, because he had allowed them to grow for such a long time in concealment59. His very first performance in philology60, executed while he was a student under Ritschl, the famous philologist61, was also typical of him in this respect, seeing that it was ordered to be printed for the Rheinische Museum. Of course this was done amid general and grave expressions of doubt; for, as Dr. Ritschl often declared,[Pg vii] it was an unheard-of occurrence for a student in his third term to prepare such an excellent treatise62.
Being a great lover of out-door exercise, such as swimming, skating, and walking, he developed into a very sturdy lad. Rohde gives the following description of him as a student: with his healthy complexion63, his outward and inner cleanliness, his austere64 chastity and his solemn aspect, he was the image of that delightful65 youth described by Adalbert Stifter.
Though as a child he was always rather serious, as a lad and a man he was ever inclined to see the humorous side of things, while his whole being, and everything he said or did, was permeated66 by an extraordinary harmony. He belonged to the very few who could control even a bad mood and conceal58 it from others. All his friends are unanimous in their praise of his exceptional evenness of temper and behaviour, and his warm, hearty67, and pleasant laugh that seemed to come from the very depths of his benevolent68 and affectionate nature. In him it might therefore be said, nature had produced a being who in body and spirit was a harmonious69 whole: his unusual intellect was fully52 in keeping with his uncommon34 bodily strength.
The only abnormal thing about him, and something which we both inherited from our father, was short-sightedness, and this was very much aggravated70 in my brother's case, even in his earliest schooldays, owing to that indescribable anxiety to learn which always characterised him. When one listens to accounts given by his friends and schoolfellows, one is startled by the multiplicity of his studies even in his schooldays.
[Pg viii]
In the autumn of 1864, he began his university life in Bonn, and studied philology and theology; at the end of six months he gave up theology, and in the autumn of 1865 followed his famous teacher Ritschl to the University of Leipzig. There he became an ardent71 philologist, and diligently72 sought to acquire a masterly grasp of this branch of knowledge. But in this respect it would be unfair to forget that the school of Pforta, with its staff of excellent teachers—scholars that would have adorned73 the chairs of any University—had already afforded the best of preparatory trainings to any one intending to take up philology as a study, more particularly as it gave all pupils ample scope to indulge any individual tastes they might have for any particular branch of ancient history. The last important Latin thesis which my brother wrote for the Landes-Schule, Pforta, dealt with the Megarian poet Theognis, and it was in the r?le of a lecturer on this very subject that, on the 18th January 1866, he made his first appearance in public before the philological74 society he had helped to found in Leipzig. The paper he read disclosed his investigations on the subject of Theognis the moralist and aristocrat75, who, as is well known, described and dismissed the plebeians76 of his time in terms of the heartiest77 contempt The aristocratic ideal, which was always so dear to my brother, thus revealed itself for the first time. Moreover, curiously78 enough, it was precisely79 this scientific thesis which was the cause of Ritschl's recognition of my brother and fondness for him.
The whole of his Leipzig days proved of the[Pg ix] utmost importance to my brother's career. There he was plunged80 into the very midst of a torrent81 of intellectual influences which found an impressionable medium in the fiery82 youth, and to which he eagerly made himself accessible. He did not, however, forget to discriminate83 among them, but tested and criticised the currents of thought he encountered, and selected accordingly. It is certainly of great importance to ascertain84 what those influences precisely were to which he yielded, and how long they maintained their sway over him, and it is likewise necessary to discover exactly when the matured mind threw off these fetters85 in order to work out its own salvation86.
The influences that exercised power over him in those days may be described in the three following terms: Hellenism, Schopenhauer, Wagner. His love of Hellenism certainly led him to philology; but, as a matter of fact, what concerned him most was to obtain a wide view of things in general, and this he hoped to derive87 from that science; philology in itself, with his splendid method and thorough way of going to work, served him only as a means to an end.
If Hellenism was the first strong influence which already in Pforta obtained a sway over my brother, in the winter of 1865-66, a completely new, and therefore somewhat subversive88, influence was introduced into his life with Schopenhauer's philosophy. When he reached Leipzig in the autumn of 1865, he was very downcast; for the experiences that had befallen him during his one year of student life in Bonn had deeply depressed89 him. He had[Pg x] sought at first to adapt himself to his surroundings there, with the hope of ultimately elevating them to his lofty views on things; but both these efforts proved vain, and now he had come to Leipzig with the purpose of framing his own manner of life. It can easily be imagined how the first reading of Schopenhauer's The World as Will and Idea worked upon this man, still stinging from the bitterest experiences and disappointments. He writes: "Here I saw a mirror in which I espied90 the world, life, and my own nature depicted91 with frightful92 grandeur93." As my brother, from his very earliest childhood, had always missed both the parent and the educator through our father's untimely death, he began to regard Schopenhauer with almost filial love and respect. He did not venerate94 him quite as other men did; Schopenhauer's personality was what attracted and enchanted95 him. From the first he was never blind to the faults in his master's system, and in proof of this we have only to refer to an essay he wrote in the autumn of 1867, which actually contains a criticism of Schopenhauer's philosophy.
Now, in the autumn of 1865, to these two influences, Hellenism and Schopenhauer, a third influence was added—one which was to prove the strongest ever exercised over my brother—and it began with his personal introduction to Richard Wagner. He was introduced to Wagner by the latter's sister, Frau Professor Brockhaus, and his description of their first meeting, contained in a letter to Erwin Rohde, is really most affecting. For years, that is to say, from the time Billow's[Pg xi] arrangement of Tristan and Isolde for the pianoforte, had appeared, he had already been a passionate96 admirer of Wagner's music; but now that the artist himself entered upon the scene of his life, with the whole fascinating strength of his strong will, my brother felt that he was in the presence of a being whom he, of all modern men, resembled most in regard to force of character.
Again, in the case of Richard Wagner, my brother, from the first, laid the utmost stress upon the man's personality, and could only regard his works and views as an expression of the artist's whole being, despite the fact that he by no means understood every one of those works at that time. My brother was the first who ever manifested such enthusiastic affection for Schopenhauer and Wagner, and he was also the first of that numerous band of young followers97 who ultimately inscribed98 the two great names upon their banner. Whether Schopenhauer and Wagner ever really corresponded to the glorified99 pictures my brother painted of them, both in his letters and other writings, is a question which we can no longer answer in the affirmative. Perhaps what he saw in them was only what he himself wished to be some day.
The amount of work my brother succeeded in accomplishing, during his student days, really seems almost incredible. When we examine his record for the years 1865-67, we can scarcely believe it refers to only two years' industry, for at a guess no one would hesitate to suggest four years at least. But in those days, as he himself[Pg xii] declares, he still possessed the constitution of a bear. He knew neither what headaches nor indigestion meant, and, despite his short sight, his eyes were able to endure the greatest strain without giving him the smallest trouble. That is why, regardless of seriously interrupting his studies, he was so glad at the thought of becoming a soldier in the forthcoming autumn of 1867; for he was particularly anxious to discover some means of employing his bodily strength.
He discharged his duties as a soldier with the utmost mental and physical freshness, was the crack rider among the recruits of his year, and was sincerely sorry when, owing to an accident, he was compelled to leave the colours before the completion of his service. As a result of this accident he had his first dangerous illness.
While mounting his horse one day, the beast, which was an uncommonly restive101 one, suddenly reared, and, causing him to strike his chest sharply against the pommel of the saddle, threw him to the ground. My brother then made a second attempt to mount, and succeeded this time, notwithstanding the fact that he had severely102 sprained103 and torn two muscles in his chest, and had seriously bruised104 the adjacent ribs105. For a whole day he did his utmost to pay no heed106 to the injury, and to overcome the pain it caused him; but in the end he only swooned, and a dangerously acute inflammation of the injured tissues was the result. Ultimately he was obliged to consult the famous specialist, Professor Volkmann, in Halle, who quickly put him right.
[Pg xiii]
In October 1868, my brother returned to his studies in Leipzig with double joy. These were his plans: to get his doctor's degree as soon as possible; to proceed to Paris, Italy, and Greece, make a lengthy107 stay in each place, and then to return to Leipzig in order to settle there as a privat docent. All these plans were, however, suddenly frustrated108 owing to his premature109 call to the University of Bale, where he was invited to assume the duties of professor. Some of the philological essays he had written in his student days, and which were published by the Rheinische Museum, had attracted the attention of the Educational Board at Bale. Ratsherr Wilhelm Vischer, as representing this body, appealed to Ritschl for fuller information. Now Ritschl, who had early recognised my brother's extraordinary talents, must have written a letter of such enthusiastic praise ("Nietzsche is a genius: he can do whatever he chooses to put his mind to"), that one of the more cautious members of the council is said to have observed: "If the proposed candidate be really such a genius, then it were better did we not appoint him; for, in any case, he would only stay a short time at the little University of Bale." My brother ultimately accepted the appointment, and, in view of his published philological works, he was immediately granted the doctor's degree by the University of Leipzig. He was twenty-four years and six months old when he took up his position as professor in Bale,—and it was with a heavy heart that he proceeded there, for he knew "the golden[Pg xiv] period of untrammelled activity" must cease. He was, however, inspired by the deep wish of being able "to transfer to his pupils some of that Schopenhauerian earnestness which is stamped on the brow of the sublime110 man." "I should like to be something more than a mere111 trainer of capable philologists112: the present generation of teachers, the care of the growing broods,—all this is in my mind. If we must live, let us at least do so in such wise that others may bless our life once we have been peacefully delivered from its toils113."
When I look back upon that month of May 1869, and ask both of friends and of myself, what the figure of this youthful University professor of four-and-twenty meant to the world at that time, the reply is naturally, in the first place: that he was one of Ritschl's best pupils; secondly114, that he was an exceptionally capable exponent115 of classical antiquity116 with a brilliant career before him; and thirdly, that he was a passionate adorer of Wagner and Schopenhauer. But no one has any idea of my brother's independent attitude to the science he had selected, to his teachers and to his ideals, and he deceived both himself and us when he passed as a "disciple117" who really shared all the views of his respected master.
On the 28th May 1869, my brother delivered his inaugural118 address at Bale University, and it is said to have deeply impressed the authorities. The subject of the address was "Homer and Classical Philology."
Musing119 deeply, the worthy120 councillors and[Pg xv] professors walked homeward. What had they just heard? A young scholar discussing the very justification121 of his own science in a cool and philosophically122 critical spirit! A man able to impart so much artistic glamour123 to his subject, that the once stale and arid124 study of philology suddenly struck them—and they were certainly not impressionable men—as the messenger of the gods: "and just as the Muses125 descended126 upon the dull and tormented127 Boeotian peasants, so philology comes into a world full of gloomy colours and pictures, full of the deepest, most incurable128 woes129, and speaks to men comfortingly of the beautiful and brilliant godlike figure of a distant, blue, and happy fairyland."
"We have indeed got hold of a rare bird, Herr Ratsherr," said one of these gentlemen to his companion, and the latter heartily130 agreed, for my brother's appointment had been chiefly his doing.
Even in Leipzig, it was reported that Jacob Burckhardt had said: "Nietzsche is as much an artist as a scholar." Privy-Councillor Ritschl told me of this himself, and then he added, with a smile: "I always said so; he can make his scientific discourses131 as palpitatingly interesting as a French novelist his novels."
"Homer and Classical Philology"—my brother's inaugural address at the University—was by no means the first literary attempt he had made; for we have already seen that he had had papers published by the Rheinische Museum; still, this particular discourse132 is important,[Pg xvi] seeing that it practically contains the programme of many other subsequent essays. I must, however, emphasise133 this fact here, that neither "Homer and Classical Philology," nor The Birth of Tragedy, represents a beginning in my brother's career. It is really surprising to see how very soon he actually began grappling with the questions which were to prove the problems of his life. If a beginning to his intellectual development be sought at all, then it must be traced to the years 1865-67 in Leipzig. The Birth of Tragedy, his maiden134 attempt at book-writing, with which he began his twenty-eighth year, is the last link of a long chain of developments, and the first fruit that was a long time coming to maturity135. Nietzsche's was a polyphonic nature, in which the most different and apparently136 most antagonistic137 talents had come together. Philosophy, art, and science—in the form of philology, then—each certainly possessed a part of him. The most wonderful feature—perhaps it might even be called the real Nietzschean feature—of this versatile138 creature, was the fact that no eternal strife139 resulted from the juxtaposition140 of these inimical traits, that not one of them strove to dislodge, or to get the upper hand of, the others. When Nietzsche renounced141 the musical career, in order to devote himself to philology, and gave himself up to the most strenuous142 study, he did not find it essential completely to suppress his other tendencies: as before, he continued both to compose and derive pleasure from music, and[Pg xvii] even studied counterpoint somewhat seriously. Moreover, during his years at Leipzig, when he consciously gave himself up to philological research, he began to engross143 himself in Schopenhauer, and was thereby144 won by philosophy for ever. Everything that could find room took up its abode in him, and these juxtaposed factors, far from interfering145 with one another's existence, were rather mutually fertilising and stimulating146. All those who have read the first volume of the biography with attention must have been struck with the perfect way in which the various impulses in his nature combined in the end to form one general torrent, and how this flowed with ever greater force in the direction of a single goal. Thus science, art, and philosophy developed and became ever more closely related in him, until, in The Birth of Tragedy, they brought forth100 a "centaur147," that is to say, a work which would have been an impossible achievement to a man with only a single, special talent. This polyphony of different talents, all coming to utterance148 together and producing the richest and boldest of harmonies, is the fundamental feature not only of Nietzsche's early days, but of his whole development. It is once again the artist, philosopher, and man of science, who as one man in later years, after many wanderings, recantations, and revulsions of feeling, produces that other and rarer Centaur of highest rank—Zarathustra.
The Birth of Tragedy requires perhaps a little explaining—more particularly as we have now[Pg xviii] ceased to use either Schopenhauerian or Wagnerian terms of expression. And it was for this reason that five years after its appearance, my brother wrote an introduction to it, in which he very plainly expresses his doubts concerning the views it contains, and the manner in which they are presented. The kernel149 of its thought he always recognised as perfectly150 correct; and all he deplored151 in later days was that he had spoiled the grand problem of Hellenism, as he understood it, by adulterating it with ingredients taken from the world of most modern ideas. As time went on, he grew ever more and more anxious to define the deep meaning of this book with greater precision and clearness. A very good elucidation152 of its aims, which unfortunately was never published, appears among his notes of the year 1886, and is as follows:—
"Concerning The Birth of Tragedy.—A book consisting of mere experiences relating to pleasurable and unpleasurable ?sthetic states, with a metaphysico-artistic background. At the same time the confession153 of a romanticist the sufferer feels the deepest longing154 for beauty—he begets155 it; finally, a product of youth, full of youthful courage and melancholy156.
"Fundamental psychological experiences: the word 'Apollonian' stands for that state of rapt repose157 in the presence of a visionary world, in the presence of the world of beautiful appearance designed as a deliverance from becoming; the word Dionysos, on the other hand, stands for strenuous becoming, grown self-conscious, in the[Pg xix] form of the rampant158 voluptuousness159 of the creator, who is also perfectly conscious of the violent anger of the destroyer.
"The antagonism160 of these two attitudes and the desires that underlie161 them. The first-named would have the vision it conjures162 up eternal: in its light man must be quiescent163, apathetic164, peaceful, healed, and on friendly terms with himself and all existence; the second strives after creation, after the voluptuousness of wilful creation, i.e. constructing and destroying. Creation felt and explained as an instinct would be merely the unremitting inventive action of a dissatisfied being, overflowing165 with wealth and living at high tension and high pressure,—of a God who would overcome the sorrows of existence by means only of continual changes and transformations,—appearance as a transient and momentary166 deliverance; the world as an apparent sequence of godlike visions and deliverances.
"This metaphysico-artistic attitude is opposed to Schopenhauer's one-sided view which values art, not from the artist's standpoint but from the spectator's, because it brings salvation and deliverance by means of the joy produced by unreal as opposed to the existing or the real (the experience only of him who is suffering and is in despair owing to himself and everything existing).—Deliverance in the form and its eternity167 (just as Plato may have pictured it, save that he rejoiced in a complete subordination of all too excitable sensibilities, even in the idea itself). To this is opposed the second point of view—art regarded[Pg xx] as a phenomenon of the artist, above all of the musician; the torture of being obliged to create, as a Dionysian instinct.
"Tragic168 art, rich in both attitudes, represents the reconciliation169 of Apollo and Dionysos. Appearance is given the greatest importance by Dionysos; and yet it will be denied and cheerfully denied. This is directed against Schopenhauer's teaching of Resignation as the tragic attitude towards the world.
"Against Wagner's theory that music is a means and drama an end.
"A desire for tragic myth (for religion and even pessimistic religion) as for a forcing frame in which certain plants flourish.
"Mistrust of science, although its ephemerally soothing170 optimism be strongly felt; the 'serenity171' of the theoretical man.
"Deep antagonism to Christianity. Why? The degeneration of the Germanic spirit is ascribed to its influence.
"Any justification of the world can only be an ?sthetic one. Profound suspicions about morality (—it is part and parcel of the world of appearance).
"The happiness of existence is only possible as the happiness derived172 from appearance. ('Being' is a fiction invented by those who suffer from becoming.)
"Happiness in becoming is possible only in the annihilation of the real, of the 'existing,' of the beautifully visionary,—in the pessimistic dissipation of illusions:—with the annihilation[Pg xxi] of the most beautiful phenomena173 in the world of appearance, Dionysian happiness reaches its zenith."
The Birth of Tragedy is really only a portion of a much greater work on Hellenism, which my brother had always had in view from the time of his student days. But even the portion it represents was originally designed upon a much larger scale than the present one; the reason probably being, that Nietzsche desired only to be of service to Wagner. When a certain portion of the projected work on Hellenism was ready and had received the title Greek Cheerfulness, my brother happened to call upon Wagner at Tribschen in April 1871, and found him very low-spirited in regard to the mission of his life. My brother was very anxious to take some decisive step to help him, and, laying the plans of his great work on Greece aside, he selected a small portion from the already completed manuscript—a portion dealing174 with one distinct side of Hellenism,—to wit, its tragic art. He then associated Wagner's music with it and the name Dionysos, and thus took the first step towards that world-historical view through which we have since grown accustomed to regard Wagner.
From the dates of the various notes relating to it, The Birth of Tragedy must have been written between the autumn of 1869 and November 1871—a period during which "a mass of ?sthetic questions and answers" was fermenting175 in Nietzsche's mind. It was first published in January 1872 by E. W. Fritsch, in Leipzig,[Pg xxii] under the title The Birth of Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music. Later on the title was changed to The Birth of Tragedy, or Hellenism and Pessimism176.
ELIZABETH FORSTER-NIETZSCHE.
WEIMAR, September 1905.
[1] This Introduction by E. F?rster-Nietzsche, which appears in the front of the first volume of Naumann's Pocket Edition of Nietzsche, has been translated and arranged by Mr. A. M. Ludovici.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
peal
|
|
| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
witty
|
|
| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
favourably
|
|
| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
fore
|
|
| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
consecrate
|
|
| v.使圣化，奉…为神圣；尊崇；奉献 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
memento
|
|
| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
benefactor
|
|
| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
rev
|
|
| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
robust
|
|
| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
robustness
|
|
| 坚固性，健壮性；鲁棒性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
dispositions
|
|
| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
wilful
|
|
| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
implicit
|
|
| a.暗示的，含蓄的，不明晰的，绝对的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
unity
|
|
| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
averred
|
|
| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
investigations
|
|
| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
breakdown
|
|
| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
conspiracy
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
concussion
|
|
| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
spartan
|
|
| adj.简朴的，刻苦的；n.斯巴达；斯巴达式的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
influential
|
|
| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
picturesquely
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
expressive
|
|
| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
schooling
|
|
| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
inuring
|
|
| v.使习惯（于）( inure的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
56
exertions
|
|
| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
philology
|
|
| n.语言学；语文学 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
philologist
|
|
| n.语言学者，文献学者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
treatise
|
|
| n.专著；(专题)论文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
austere
|
|
| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
permeated
|
|
| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
benevolent
|
|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
harmonious
|
|
| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
aggravated
|
|
| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
diligently
|
|
| ad.industriously;carefully | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
philological
|
|
| adj.语言学的，文献学的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
aristocrat
|
|
| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
plebeians
|
|
| n.平民( plebeian的名词复数 )；庶民；平民百姓；平庸粗俗的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
77
heartiest
|
|
| 亲切的( hearty的最高级 )； 热诚的； 健壮的； 精神饱满的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
discriminate
|
|
| v.区别，辨别，区分；有区别地对待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
fetters
|
|
| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
salvation
|
|
| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
derive
|
|
| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
subversive
|
|
| adj.颠覆性的，破坏性的；n.破坏份子，危险份子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
espied
|
|
| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
depicted
|
|
| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
venerate
|
|
| v.尊敬，崇敬，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
inscribed
|
|
| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
glorified
|
|
| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
restive
|
|
| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
sprained
|
|
| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
lengthy
|
|
| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
frustrated
|
|
| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
premature
|
|
| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
sublime
|
|
| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
philologists
|
|
| n.语文学( philology的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
113
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
secondly
|
|
| adv.第二，其次 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
exponent
|
|
| n.倡导者，拥护者；代表人物；指数，幂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
antiquity
|
|
| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
disciple
|
|
| n.信徒，门徒，追随者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
inaugural
|
|
| adj.就职的；n.就职典礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
justification
|
|
| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
philosophically
|
|
| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
muses
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
tormented
|
|
| 饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
incurable
|
|
| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
woes
|
|
| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
discourses
|
|
| 论文( discourse的名词复数 )； 演说； 讲道； 话语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
emphasise
|
|
| vt.加强...的语气，强调，着重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
maturity
|
|
| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
antagonistic
|
|
| adj.敌对的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
versatile
|
|
| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
strife
|
|
| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
juxtaposition
|
|
| n.毗邻，并置，并列 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
renounced
|
|
| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
strenuous
|
|
| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
engross
|
|
| v.使全神贯注 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
interfering
|
|
| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
stimulating
|
|
| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
centaur
|
|
| n.人首马身的怪物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
kernel
|
|
| n.(果实的)核，仁；(问题)的中心，核心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
deplored
|
|
| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
elucidation
|
|
| n.说明，阐明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
begets
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的第三人称单数 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
rampant
|
|
| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
voluptuousness
|
|
| n.风骚，体态丰满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
antagonism
|
|
| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
underlie
|
|
| v.位于...之下，成为...的基础 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
conjures
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的第三人称单数 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
quiescent
|
|
| adj.静止的，不活动的，寂静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
apathetic
|
|
| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
overflowing
|
|
| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
serenity
|
|
| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
derived
|
|
| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
phenomena
|
|
| n.现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
fermenting
|
|
| v.（使）发酵( ferment的现在分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
pessimism
|
|
| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |