Part 13

With cordial and grateful regards I remain, dear Sir,

Yours,

NIETZSCHE.

9. BRANDES to NIETZSCHE.

Copenhagen, April 3, 1888.

MY DEAR SIR,

You have called the postman the medium of ill-mannered invasions. That is very true as a rule, and should be sat. sapienti not to trouble you. I am not an intruder by nature, so little in fact that I lead an almost isolated life, am indeed loth to write letters and, like all authors, loth to write at all.

Yesterday, however, when I had received your letter and taken up one of your books, I suddenly felt a sort of vexation at the idea that nobody here in Scandinavia knew anything about you, and I soon determined to make you known at a stroke. The newspaper cutting will tell you that (having just finished a series of lectures on Russia) I am announcing fresh lectures on your writings. For many years I have been obliged to repeat all my lectures, as the University cannot hold the audiences; that is not likely to be the case this time, as your name is so absolutely new, but the people who will come and get an impression of your works will not be of the dullest.

As I should very much like to have an idea of your appearance, I beg you to give me a portrait of yourself. I enclose my last photograph. I would also ask you to tell me quite briefly when and where you were born and in what years you published (or better, wrote) your works, as they are not dated. If you have any newspaper that contains these details, there will be no need to write. I am an unmethodical person and possess neither dictionaries of authors nor other books of reference in which your name might be found.

The youthful works--the Thoughts out of Season--have been very useful to me. How young you were and enthusiastic, how frank and naïve I There is much in the maturer books that I do not yet understand; you appear to me often to hint at or generalise about entirely intimate, personal data, giving the reader a beautiful casket without the key. But most of it I understand. I was enchanted by the youthful work on Schopenhauer; although personally I owe little to Schopenhauer, it seemed to speak to me from the soul.

One or two pedantic corrections: Joyful Wisdom, p. 116. The words quoted are not Chamfort's last, they are to be found in his Caractères et Anecdotes: dialogue between M. D. and M. L. in explanation of the sentence: Peu de personnes et pen de choses m'intéressent, mais rien ne m'intéresse moins que moi. The concluding words are: en vivant et en voyant les hommes, il faut que le cour se brise ou se bronze.

On p. 118 you speak of the elevation "in which Shakespeare places Cæsar." I find Shakespeare's Cæsar pitiable. An act of high treason. And this glorification of the miserable fellow whose only achievement was to plunge a knife into a great man!

Human, all-too-Human, II, p. 59. A holy lie. "It is the only holy lie that has become famous." No, Desdemona's last words are perhaps still more beautiful and just as famous, often quoted in Germany at the time when Jacobi was writing on Lessing. Am I not right?

These trifles are only to show you that I read you attentively. Of course, there are very different matters that I might discuss with you, but a letter is not the place for them.

If you read Danish, I should like to send you a handsomely got-up little book on Holberg, which will appear in a week. Let me know whether you understand our language. If you read Swedish, I call your attention to Sweden's only genius, August Strindberg. When you write about women you are very like him.

I hope you will have nothing but good to tell me of your eyes.

Yours sincerely,

GEORGE BRANDES.

10. NIETZSCHE to BRANDES.

Torino (Italia) ferma in posta, April 10, 1888.

But, my dear Sir, what a surprise is this!--Where have you found the courage to propose to speak in public of a vir obscurissimus?... Do you imagine that I am known in the beloved Fatherland? They treat me there as if I were something singular and absurd, something that for the present need not be taken seriously.... Evidently they have an inkling that I do not take them seriously either: and how could I, nowadays, when "German intellect" has become a contradictio in adjecto!--My best thanks for the photograph. Unfortunately I have none to send in return: my sister, who is married and lives in South America, took with her the last portraits I possessed.

Enclosed is a little vita, the first I have ever written.

As regards the dates of composition of the different books, they are to be found on the back of the cover of Beyond Good and Evil. Perhaps you no longer have this cover.

The Birth of Tragedy was written between the summer of 1870 and the winter of 1871 (finished at Lugano, where I was living with the family of Field-Marshal Moltke).

The Thoughts out of Season between 1872 and the summer of 1875 (there were to have been thirteen; luckily my health said No!).

What you say about Schopenhauer as Educator gives me great pleasure. This little work serves me as a touchstone; he to whom it says nothing personal has probably nothing to do with me either. In reality it contains the whole plan according to which I have hitherto lived; it is a rigorous promise.

Human, all-too-Human, with its two continuations, summer of 1876-1879. The Dawn of Day, 1880. The Joyful Wisdom, January 1882. Zarathustra, 1883-1885 (each part in about ten days. Perfect state of "inspiration." All conceived in the course of rapid walks: absolute certainty, as though each sentence were shouted to one. While writing the book, the greatest physical elasticity and sense of power).

Beyond Good and Evil, summer of 1885 in the Upper Engadine and the following winter at Nice.