*the ‘frozen’,… —as opposition to the turbulence of movement. … —on the origins *(—the… precipitation) of the ‘mirror stage’. …

– LACAN & (THE QUESTION OF) THE “REAL” –
*(—a reading group).

Why Lacan & why the real… —? —Introduction to the reading group.

Introduction to Lacan: notes from a lecture.

Outline of a reading of ‘The Mirror Stage’.

Mirror Stage I.—the infant, the mirror, & the nature of the image.

Mirror Stage II.—‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’. (part (i).)

Mirror Stage II.—‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’. (part (ii).): Nietzsche on the intellect, language, the ‘I’ as fiction, and ‘intuition’.

Mirror Stage II.—‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’. (part (iii).): the Undivided Continuity of States. —‘analysis’, ‘duration’ & ‘intuition’ in Bergson.

Mirror Stage II.—‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’. (part (iv).): language, ‘intuition’ & flux in Nietzsche & Bergson, & the fiction of the ‘I’ in Lacan.

 

*the ‘frozen’,… —as opposition to the turbulence of movement.
(—on the origins *(—the… precipitation) of the ‘mirror stage’). …

[…] *freezes it and in a symmetry that reverses it, in opposition to the *|turbulent movements| with which the subject feels he *animates it.
*(Lacan, ‘The Mirror Stage’, 76).

 

The desire for identity, I have argued, is spurred by a more primary (so to) desire,… —a need,… —an unrealistic and (ultimately-finally) unrealisable hope,—for fixity *(—stasis). …

 

 

*—‘freezing’ turbulent’ movements (repress) beneath apparent… discretion of the form—the ‘contour’—of the ‘I’

 

*… —The mirror stage represents an attempt to wrest (the fiction of a) fixity-stasis (—peace and security) from the chaos of an underlying flux of movements of and within the subject (—psychological and bodily), and in(-within) its environment (surrounds-environs).

 

 

*It’s possible, then, to read (—to give an account-a reading, here, of) the origins of the ‘mirror stage’.

 

 

—In laying out this reading-account of the origins, and of the structure of the mirror stage,… I want to draw, in particular, on a key idea from the work of the Modernist critic, poet, and aesthete T.E. Hulme,… —an idea which he himself adopts(-appropriates) from the work of Wilhelm Worringer: …

 

*… —I want to examine the origins of the ‘mirror stage’—in-as a response to, following Hulme and Worringer, I’ll characterise here as

 

*—‘space fear’.

 

 

*(—I’ll adapt-be adapting here, some material from my doctoral thesis, as well as some material which I wrote (from the point-of-view (so to) of my protagonist) for my first novel: Notes of a Vanishing Quantity *(—which I’m still trying, and failing, to publish, and which my thesis and its adaptation in this blog, are intended as a kind of a… companion piece), and which I earlier adapted for the blog of an ‘early C20th political writing’ reading group of which I was a part, under the title of: towards an Ethics of Friendship. …

 

*—The material from ‘Ethics’…  places my own spin on ‘space fear’,… reading it (implicitly-by implication) with, or in terms of Nietzsche, Bergson, and Hulme on language and flux, and Nietzsche’s later doctrine of the ‘will to power’ *(—for my reading of the ‘will to power’, see elsewhere on this blog).

 

 

 

on the ‘geometric’. …
*—agoraphobia. 
—at the root (—the necessity) of art in Hulme & Worringer. …

In his account of artistic inspiration in the later ‘Modern Art and Its Philosophy’ (—a lecture to the Quest Society, London, 22nd January 1914), Modernist poet and art critic T.E. Hulme appropriates Wilhelm Worringer’s concept of ‘space-shyness’… —

The fear I mean here is mental, however, not physical […] *a kind of space-shynessin the face of the varied confusion and arbitrariness of existence. In art this state of mind results in *a desire to create a certain *|abstract geometrical shape|, which, being durable and permanent shall be a refuge from the *flux and impermanence of *outside nature.

[…]

In the reproduction of natural objects there is an attempt to *purify them of their characteristically living qualities in order to make them necessary and immovable. *The changing is translated into something fixed and necessary.

*(—in T.E, Hulme, Speculations: Essays on Humanism and the Philosophy of Art, ed. Herbert Read, with a Frontispiece and Foreword by Jacob Epstein (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., Ltd.; 1924)86)

 

For Hulme, in contrast to ‘vital’ art, which is inspired by a ‘delight in the forms of nature’,… —artistic inspiration in ‘geometric’ art *(—functioning here as a kind of pseudonym, I’d argue, for Hulme’s own conception of ‘classical’ art, which I won’t go into here… ) stems from a state of fear of the confused and arbitrary—the inchoate—flux of the phenomena of ‘outside nature’. …

 

*—This… ‘space-fear’ gives birth to a desire to imbue the flux of external phenomena with a static form, or ‘shape’.

 

Just as ‘vital’ art, for Hulme, ‘geometric’ art still aims at the reproduction of natural objects. …

 

However,… *—in ‘geometric’ art this reproduction aims to ‘purify’ phenomena, sloughing off all that is contingent in them, and drawing out all that is ‘necessary’, imbuing them with permanence and redeeming experience from its contingency.

 

Hulme’s terms are a verbatim repetition of those of Worringer. …

*—In a passage which I love… —I think it’s stunningly astute, and uncannily accurate, on the psychology of the motivation to write—to attempt to create art… —Worringer identifies ‘an immense spiritual dread of space’ at *‘the root of artistic creation’ in what he calls ‘the urge to abstraction’.

*(—Wilhelm Worringer, Abstraction and Empathy: A Contribution to the Psychology of Style, trans. Michael Bullock [London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, Ltd., 1953],—15)… —

[It is] because he [the artist of ‘abstraction’/—the abstract artist… ] stands so lost and spiritually helpless *amidst |the things of the external world|, because he experiences only obscurity and caprice in the inter-connection and flux of the phenomena of the external world, that the *urge is strong in him to *divest the things of the external world of their caprice and obscurity in the world-picture and to *impart to them a value of necessity and value of regularity. *(—18)

Worringer distinguishes this ‘fear’ in the *‘urge to abstraction’ from the *‘urge to empathy’, which, he argues, represents— *‘a happy pantheistic relationship of confidence between man and the phenomena of the external world.’ (15)

 

(hmm). …

 

 

Hulme first refers to this ‘fear’ (—agoraphobic) in ‘A Lecture on Modern Poetry’ (—c.1908). …

 

In this earlier piece, however, he relegates it to the sole possession of the ‘ancients’ and distinguishes the relativity and rejection of ‘absolute truth’ characteristic of the ‘modern spirit’. (—see T.E. Hulme: Selected Writings, ed., Patrick McGuinness, (Manchester: Carcanet Press, 1998), 59-67 [62-63])

 

—It’s not until the later piece that he fully incorporates Worringer’s conception of ‘space-fear’ into his own definition of the ‘classical’ and modern art.

*(—see Helen Carr ‘T.E. Hulme and the “Spiritual Dread of Space”’ in Edward P. Comentale and Andrzej Gasiorck, ed., T.E. Hulme and the Question of Modernism [—Aldershot, Burlington: Ashgate, 2006,—93-112 *[—esp. 103]). …

 

 

*… —to retrieve (redeem)—to save—experience, then,… —from the sense of its being inessential and lost.—without meaning or (necessary) consequence.

 

—without purpose or import.

 

—arbitrary, floating and haphazard.

 

*—infinitely replaceable.

(—nothing substantial, nothing essential, nothing that stands). …

 

—to redeem experience from the overwhelming mass—the flux—of forces (—events, possibilities, obligations-demands, desires, anxieties…), uncontrollable and vast.

(—a resentment of…).

 

—agoraphobia…

 

space-fear.

 

Hulme appropriates what he sees-defines as Worringer’s insight into what lies at the very *root of art. …

 

*—‘abstraction’.

 

—that, at ‘the root of artistic creation’, lies ‘an immense spiritual dread of space’.

(against, what Worringer calls, the ‘urge to empathy’: that ‘happy pantheistic relationship of confidence between man and the phenomena of the external world’.)

 

—gives rise (birth) to the (artistic) ‘urge to abstraction’:

Hulme-Worringer (CLUSTER)

 

—the fear of the (apparent) vastness of space (paradoxical as it might nonetheless seem) is in fact revealed as a fear-resentment of (life’s)smallness.

 

—to be overwhelmed in the face of the vastness—the vast expanse of forces (felt) in the external world, that run counter to the will—to the willed

(would will, if could.).

 

agoraphobic.

 

fear.—of an incapacity to control.—a resentment of the smallness of the lived.

(frustration the incapacity to exceed the limits of circumstance circumscribed, and realise the potential-desired, felt).

 

to be caught (inescapably) in-within the smallness of what must be lived (circumstance) at the cost of the all-else that could (—that ought?) to be lived.

 

—to fix the lived (—the impression) in a fixed form. in a form which makes (which renders) it necessary.

 

—to record the impression—atomically (—faithfully).find (to use) the precise—exact—words.

 

—qualification.

 

qualification of (the expression of) the impression.—precision-accuracy

(full—complete—honesty/accuracy.—as honest as can). …

 

—and slough off the inessential

 

to fix the core of the experience and render it sharp, hard and precise (‘geometric’).—to give it a shape.

 

make the lived necessary.—by virtue of its being a form

(existence—having existed-lived—become necessary to the creation of the form and become necessary through its own embodiment within—imbued with—the form).

 

 

to redeem (to show—to reveal—the already redemption of) the lived, in-by recognition.—of the work (—the image).—of the attempt to articulate the intuition.

 

recognition (approbation?).—to be recognised.

 

need.—to have the sense of an intuition recognised.

 

something worthy of being communicated (—set down).

 

recognition of the need (the compulsion) to set it down.

 

to create a solid, stable object that demonstrates the necessity of experience. makes experience-the lived necessary to itself,—to its own creation.

 

a yearning (—an ache) to realise and to communicate and to have that feeling-sense be recognised (and be shared-requited).

 

to be recognised as self in another-others and reflected.

 

to be known (and to be loved).

 

in-between space-fear, then, and the desire (the need) for recognition

 

—language.—flux.
—the fiction of the ‘thing’(—the ‘self’). …

an art of reading. …

 

—of the structure (—the shape) of the impression-impressions.

 

… —of the forces.—physical: movements, pressures.—of the senses: light, colour, touch, smell, sound… —of the emotional.—of connections in-of memorial-remembered (memories—conjured up, so to).

 

—of the competing impulses of which the impression is comprised-composed.—their arrangement, their relation to one another and their (relativeprominence.

 

in any given moment.

 

—all urges. drives. impulses.

 

and all compete (struggle) for balance, for clarity, for order,for dominance.

 

and the balance-order, at any one given moment, is what decides what am (to be).

 

—the ‘self’.

 

 

*—the ‘self’ (the… sense of ‘self’), then, as a fiction. …

 

—the result (the end) of a process of struggle (negotiation) of—between—drives and forces.

 

—the name (retrospective)-naming, thus, of the arrangement—the hierarchy—of forces.

 

in (within) an organism.

 

an imposition of language

 

imposed on flux

 

—a multiplicity of forces (of sub-wills).

 

projection.—a fiction of unity projected onto the flux of forces.

 

—language (linguistic).

 

—the origin and the history of a ‘thing’ (of any given thing): first, a projection—projecting back name—onto an arrangement-heirarchy of forces.

 

and second—a forgetting of (that act of) projection (that act of creation).

 

the name—the forged thing—taken to be (thereal.

(because—for Nietzsche, following Kant… —all that we can have access to and thus have knowledge of are the objects of everyday experience. because we cannot think outside the limits of our senses, we take those objects of experience to be real—in-themselves. … ).

 

any ‘thing’ in existence, then, has (must have)—come about

 

—as the result of a continuing process of naming (—names).

 

—a continual (continued,—continuing) process of being (having beeninterpreted.

 

—from the retrospective imposition of a unity (—of unities) upon the flux that flows always (anywaybeneath.

(—beneath the names).

 

upon the flux of forces.

 

—upon a (any given) quantum of reality

 

—always being appropriated and (re-)transformed…

 

—continually being undone and remade (—re-named).—re-forged

 

appropriated by (—linguistic) forces. overpowered.

 

—from without.

 

—the history, then, of any (given) ‘thing’, then, is a chain of signs (of names, of naming…).

 

always unfolding.

 

—a history, then, of *interpretations….

 

*—of adaptations. …

 

not (no, never) a progress-thus progressive.

(—no ‘goal’,—no ‘end’).

 

only ever a series (—a succession) of—mutually independent—processes.

 

—of appropriation.

 

of adaptation. …

 

exacted on the (given) quantum of reality.

(—of resistances, then, and of overpowerings).

 

 

*… —the form and the meaning of a ‘thing’ (—of any given thing), then, is fluid (always)

 

as in the process of the formation of language.

 

first: the stimulus of sense-sense-stimulus.

(a sight, a sound, a scent.—an impression)…

 

transposed-translated into a word (—sound).—from a need (felt) to discharge the (physical-physiological,—psychological) reaction to the stimulus.

(the word as a metaphor—as first metaphor—for the stimulus felt).

 

when many such similar impressions are yoked together (—grouped), under the aegis of a single word, that word becomes a concept.

 

—a name for a group—a cluster—of experiences (impressions), which serves to yoke them all together according to the similarities that they share.

(and must overlook—must elide—all the differences between them.

 

—crude (unsubtle)…).

 

the concept.—second metaphor.

(at two removes, then, from the sense-stimulus which gives birth-rise to it).

 

—the formation of the concept of the ‘leaf’…

 

—formed by discarding the differences between all (of those) individual leaves.

(—awakens the idea that, in addition to all those individual, incompatible, leaves, there exists—in nature (somehow, somewhere)—some ür,—some ideal ‘leaf’,—from which, in some way-fashion, all those other leaves,—descend

 

the (Platonic) Idea(-Form). …).

 

—‘analysis’ (—to borrow ol’ Bergson’s term). …

 

*—breaks down—fragments—its subject (—the flux) into parts-thus elements (—‘things’).—all made to participate with other fragmented elements in-under—pre-existing—concepts.

 

the break down (—breaking down) of-in-within ‘analysis’… *—art (after a fashion). …

 

 

—in the forgetting of that (act of) art (—creation)—the (mistaken) taking of the fragment-‘thing’ as-for a thing-in-itself (—as-for the real. ).

 

—the ‘self’, then.—a word. …

(—a name.—an ideal thus.—impossible to hold to,—impossible to attain identity with.—thrust upon on, thus,  from without,—in linguistic…).

 

fiction.

 

beneath the veneer, then, of (supposéd) ‘things’ (—of what we come to think of, then, as ‘experience’).—beneath the membrane (the skein) of artificial fragmented atoms—of ‘things’ in-of conceptual space, and of ‘moments’ in conceptual time—there subsists a foundation (—a substrate) of undifferentiated ‘states’.

 

—the flux of an undivided continuity of ‘states’.

 

—apparently mutually exclusive and autonomous, these ‘states’ thus nonetheless interpenetrate, enfolding (down, within themselves) all the states which led-up-to (preceded) their emergence, and, again, unfolding, ineluctably, into all those states which are to (must) follow (in the future yet). …

 

—forming, then, (justone reality, nonetheless, however paradoxical it may seem, comprised of this continual flux of successive ‘states’.

 

after a time, through habitual use (—familiarity)—convention—the concept (concepts) become empty—flat and stale—and elide (ignore) the details and the variations (—the engine of the difference) between things.

 

—no longer maintain any connection to the sense-stimulus from which they originally evolved-arose (no use value any more.—no connection to the quanta they were born to name—to which they, in effect, gave birth).

 

 

—clichés.

 

*on Lacan, then, & ‘space fear’ (—the ‘geometric’ … ). …

*Before the establishment of relations-relationships between the subject (—through the ego = “I”) and-to a world of discrete ‘things’… … *—the (‘Nietzschean’-‘Bergsonian’, so to) flux—of an undivided continuity of ‘states’. …

 

—In the face of which—in response to which—the subject feels (of necessity), then,—overwhelmed… —imperilled (threatened). …

 

—experiences *‘space fear’ (agoraphobic). …

[The abstract artist/artist of ‘abstraction’… ] experiences only obscurity and caprice in the inter-connection and flux of the phenomena of the external world, that the *urge is strong in him to *divest the things of the external world of their caprice and obscurity in the world-picture and to *impart to them a value of necessity and value of regularity. (Worringer, Abstraction and Empathy,—18)

 

—In response to ‘space fear’ (—agoraphobia)… *(… —no way to engage with-to relate to ‘outside nature’. … —no way to defend against-fend off the peril in-of chaotic flux), then,… —a necessity (felt)—an *urge—… to impart discretion upon the otherwise fearful, inchoate flux. …

 

*—the imposition of language. …

 

… —selection. … the selective culling of forces, impulses,… of—detail, from flux: highlighting—bounding round, with (an only ever apparent) contour, of some,… —the  elision or suppression of others. …

*—the creation of the fiction—the artistic projection—of ‘thinghood’ *(so to—in space, and in-of time),…

 

*—the creation of the fiction of the ‘I’. …

 

*—the divestiture of caprice, and the imparting of discretion (stasis). …

 

 

*Lacan,… and the ‘frozen’ (—‘freezes’) as opposition to ‘tubulent movements’ *(—the turbulent movements in-of the flux of the organism. … ).

 

 

—that which underpins (so to) and precipitates ‘the mirror stage’—

 

…—a… response

 

—an attempted ‘geometric’ (—the form-formal outline—contour—of the image of the body… —appropriated in-to (the artistic fictional projection of) the “I”) remedy for, the desire-need (felt) for fixity-stasis,…

 

*—the-a fear (—agoraphobic) of space, and of flux. …

 

 

*The ‘mirror stage’, then, as—the appropriation, or the… pulling, of the non-/pre-egoistic subject (so to—sic?) into extant (pre-existing) orders/structures (—the legislation, in early-Nietzschean terms) of language.

 

*as *(—the formation of)— *the I that says “I”. …

 

*—the ‘ideal I’.

 

 

I want to move on now, then,—to examine the nature of that ‘ideal’ (there) in more detail, and the way in which (I think) it can provide a hook into thinking about the *‘real’… —ontology in Lacan *(—Lacan’s ‘ontology’ … ), and can serve to qualify some of the ideas I developed in my readings of Nietzsche and Bergson on language and the nature of flux. …

 

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*—towards a reading of Lacan’s ‘The Mirror Stage’. … —PART II. on ‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’: Nietzsche on the intellect, language, the ‘I’ as fiction, and ‘intuition’.

– LACAN & (THE QUESTION OF) THE “REAL” –
*(—a reading group).

Why Lacan & why the real… —? —Introduction to the reading group.

Introduction to Lacan: notes from a lecture.

Outline of a reading of ‘The Mirror Stage’.

Mirror Stage I.—the infant, the mirror, & the nature of the image.

Mirror Stage II.—‘space fear’, & the ‘ideal’. (part (i).) …

 

*PART II. —on ‘space fear’ & the ‘ideal’. …
*—Nietzsche on the intellect, language, the ‘I’ as fiction, & ‘intuition’. …

*(the following is taken from: … *I. – Intuition, Flux and Anti-metaphysics between ‘On Truth and Lies [in a Nonmoral Sense]’ and The Birth of Tragedy.—Nietzsche’s early Schopenhauerian—anti-Schopenhauerianism… ).

 

 *Nietzsche, ‘On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense’, trans. Daniel Breazeale, in The Blackwell’s Nietzsche Reader ed. Keith Ansell Pearson and Duncan Large (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd., 2006),—114-123.

 

Blackwell Nietzsche Reader

 

[…]

 

*In ‘On Truth and Lies in Nonmoral Sense’, Nietzsche criticises what he sees as the arrogance of the human claim to knowledge, through the intellect, of the value of existence. …

 

*—He contests what he argues is the conceit of the intellect and the attempt to extend its remit beyond the… realm (so to) of human experience.

 

 

—For Nietzsche, the concepts of the intellect are anthropomorphisms.

 

—In an ironic inversion of perhaps the most obvious and straightforward valuation of the intellect—as some form of vehicle for ascertaining the truth or the value of existence—Nietzsche characterises it as the very paragon of ‘dissimulation’,—‘allotted to these most unfortunate, delicate, and ephemeral beings merely as a device for detaining them a minute within existence.’ (114-115)

 

The intellect lies as a sort of a veil over existence as a means for the creation and the preservation of the individual (—the subject).

 

—Without the intellect, Nietzsche argues, existence itself would be unbearable.

 

Whilst the intellect appears ostensibly as the means to knowledge and to truth, Nietzsche argues that its primary function is to conceal the plethora of phenomena which threaten to overwhelm the individual. …

 

—It’s not, that is, as it might appear, a means to self-knowledge but, instead, to self-deception

What does man actually know about himself? Is he, indeed, ever able to perceive himself completely, as if laid out in a lighted display case? Does nature not conceal most things from him – even concerning his own body – in order to confine and lock him within a proud, deceptive consciousness, aloof from the coils of the bowels, the rapid flow of the blood stream, and the intricate quivering of the fibers! (115)

 

For Nietzsche,… —natural existence constitutes a chaotic flux… —comprised of natural drives and processes *(—‘coils of the bowels’, ‘rapid flow of the blood stream’,… —‘the intricate quivering of the fibers!’ … ).

 

(and this, I think, is especially important in the context of the current discussion of the ‘image’ and the ‘I’ in Lacan. … )

*—The intellect, then, is an epiphenomenal, (a—prosthetic… —?) *artistic creation,… —appended to (sub-intellectual,… —sub-egoistic,… —sub-conscious) flux—in order to repress or to suppress it, and thus to render the individual subject (—subjectivity) possible, in order, in turn, to preserve the organism against the suffering that a conscious awareness of, and inability to escape from, the confusion and contradiction this flux would inevitably give rise to.

 

 

—By intimation, for Nietzsche, a thoroughgoing knowledge of the effect of physiological drives on consciousness, which the intellect is engendered precisely in order to prohibit, is necessary for any accurate self-perception and self-comprehension to be possible.

*(—‘n’ I think ol’ Fritz is essentially reiterating and expanding upon this point in the ‘Preface’ to On the Genealogy of Morality… —

We are unknown to ourselves, we knowers, we ourselves, to ourselves, and there is good reason for this […] like somebody divinely absent-minded and sunk in his own thoughts, who, the twelve strokes of midday having just boomed into his ears, wakes with a start and wonders ‘What hour struck?’, sometimes we too, afterwards rub our ears and ask, astonished, taken aback, ‘What did we actually experience then?’ or even, ‘Who are we, in fact?’ […] We remain strange to ourselves out of necessity, we do not understand ourselves, we must confusedly mistake who we are, the motto ‘everyone is furthest from himself’ applies to us forever,—we are not ‘knowers’ when it comes to ourselves…

*(On the Genealogy of Morality, trans. Carol Diethe, ed. Keith Ansell-Pearson [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003] ‘Preface,’ §I, 3-4: emphases Nietzsche’s own here. … )

Nietzsche argues that by virtue of the nature of our conception of ‘knowing’; that is, the nature of the intellect and its repression of the flux of natural drives, we must remain unknown to, and alienated from, ourselves.

In this passage Nietzsche implicitly reiterates the notion of the necessity of this alienation.

… —True self-knowledge and self-identity must remain impossible if the individual (the subject), and thus morality, are to be maintained.

It’s possible, at least to a certain degree, to read Nietzsche’s claim that no genealogist prior to himself has yet enquired as to the true origins and evolution of morality, as a claim that each has had an ineluctable stake in the maintenance of the illusion of subjectivity. … ).

 

*—in a note from one of his later notebooks (—of April – June, 1885), Nietzsche provides an apposite summary of his overarching critique of the concept of notion of the unified subject…

If I have anything of a unity within me, it certainly doesn’t lie in the conscious “I” and in feeling, willing, thinking, but somewhere else: in the sustaining, appropriating, expelling, watchful prudence of my whole organism, of which my conscious self is only a tool.

*(—Nietzsche, Writings  from the Late Notebooks, trans. Kate Sturge, ed. Rudiger Bittner [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press: 2003,—34[46], 2-3 [2].

… —on the ‘self’—*the ‘I’—as a fiction, especially in relation to Nietzsche’s doctrine of ‘the will to power’, see the following entries: 34[54]-34[55], 4; 34[131], 9-10; 35[35], 20-21; 37[4], 29-30; 38[8], 36-37; 40[42], 46; 1[58], 59-60; 1[87], 61; 2[91], 77; 2[152], 91; 2[158], 92; 2[193], 96-97; 5[3], 106; 7[1], 127-129; 7[63], 140; 9[91], 154-157; 10[19], 178-179; 11[73], 212-213; 11[113], 221-222; 11[120], 223-224; 14[79], 245-247. ).

 

*—the ‘I’ of the (conscious) ‘self’ here appears, then, as a ‘tool’ for the processes of the sustenance of the ‘organism’: … —of the incorporation of necessary experiences and energies and the purgation of superfluous experience and energies.

 

*(… —I want to come back to this notion—of the ‘I’ as (merely) a kind of epiphenomenal ‘tool’ for the manifold drives, forces, and processes in-of the organism… *—the ‘I’, then, as more or less useful-practical fiction. … —in my reading of Lacan. … ).

 

 

Nietzsche argues that language represents the means employed by the intellect toward this end.

 

*—His critique of the intellect represents a theory of the formation of language… —concerned with the origins and evolution of words and concepts.

 

 

*In The Beginnings of Nietzsche’s Theory of Language, Claudia Crawford argues that Nietzsche’s account of the formation of words and concepts represents their division into two separate languages. …

 

—The first constitutes an ‘unconscious formal language arising as the product of the instincts,’ whilst the latter constitutes ‘the translation of this unconscious language into the conscious language of fixity according to convention’.

*(see—Claudia Crawford, The Beginnings of Nietzsche’s Theory of Language [Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1988],—202).

 

*—The formation of this first, unconscious and instinctual language is a two-stage metaphorical process. First, ‘a nerve stimulus is transferred into an image [Bild].’—In an unconscious and instinctual reaction to a sensible stimulus the mind forms an image—a mental picture—of that stimulus. This is the ‘first metaphor’…

 

In the second, ‘the image, in turn, is imitated in a sound.’ (116)—The process evolves from the translation and transposition of a sensible stimulus into a mental image, to the further translation of this image (and not of the original stimulus itself) into a sound.

 

*—This is Nietzsche’s—naturalistic (so to speak)—account of the emergence of language.

 

 

—The word is formed as ‘a purely natural reaction to a stimulus, whether a cry, a scream, or any other sound, it is primarily an action which reduces the tension created by the perception of the stimulus.’ (Crawford, 203)—The formation of words is an attempt to articulate and discharge the natural reaction to a sensible stimulus.

 

For Nietzsche, a word becomes a concept at the point at which it transcends its function as referring solely to the unique, original experience ‘to which it owes its origin’:

‘a word becomes a concept insofar as it simultaneously has to fit countless more or less similar cases,’—‘cases which are never equal and thus altogether unequal.’—The word emerges as a response to a particular stimulus (as a vocalisation of the image). It becomes a concept at the point at which a vast field of such experiences are reduced to a small number of similarities and yoked under the aegis of a single word. (117)

 

For Nietzsche, the concept represents the elision of the differences between diverse experiences (stimuli) and the attempt to equate unequal phenomena. (ibid.

—Nietzsche gives the example of the concept of the ‘leaf’. …

In a parody, and a rejection, of the Platonic Idea, or Form, he argues that the concept of the leaf is formed by arbitrarily discarding—by forgetting—the differences between individual leaves:

This awakens the idea that, in addition to the leaves, there exists in nature the “leaf”: the original model according to which all the leaves were perhaps woven, sketched, measured, colored, curled, and painted – but by incompetent hands, so that no specimen has turned out to be a correct, trustworthy, and faithful likeness of the original model.

—For Nietzsche, the claim to know that such a self-identical Idea or ‘original model’ (the concept) inheres in things is a projection and false hypostatisation. … ).

 

 

—Utility gives birth to both the word and the concept in response to (—deeply felt) needs. …

 

—The individual word emerges from the need to discharge and articulate a particular sensible experience and stands at two removes from this original stimulus.

 

The concept emerges from a need for this original articulation to be transmitted to and to be understood by others, and thus stands at three removes from the original stimulus.

 

Nietzsche defines this process as *the invention of designation: the ‘legislation of language’.

 

It’s in this establishment of communal (linguistic) convention, Nietzsche argues, that ‘the contrast between truth and lies arises for the first time.’… —In other words, the concept arises from need to reduce the plurality of experience to a finite set of linguistic conventions in order to be able to establish a social-cultural-political consensus. (cf. 115)

 

 

Nietzsche argues that by virtue of their artificiality and elision of difference, all— ‘truths’, or concepts of the intellect, are, in reality, lies. …

 

—After the advent of the legislation of language, the concept of the ‘liar’ comes to designate the person who misuses the terms sanctioned by consensus for selfish or harmful ends by making ‘something which is unreal appear to be real’. What linguistically enabled human beings avoid, Nietzsche argues, is not deception itself—for this is of the quintessence of language—but being harmed by deception…

 

*—‘Truth,’ for Nietzsche, represents ‘the duty which society imposes in order to exist: to be truthful means to employ the usual metaphors’. (117) …

 

*Importantly for this comparison with Lacan and my reading of ‘The Mirror Stage… For Nietzsche (in ‘On Truth’)—language is first engendered in order to suppress the chaotic flux and multiplicity of natural drives in order to render the individual possible as a *fictitious unity. …

 

—The intellect, its concepts, and the notions of truth and lies are engendered as a necessary consequence of this individuation, in order to render communal linguistic consensus and thus society itself, possible.

 

Like the individual, ‘truth,’ for Nietzsche, is an artifice.—‘Truth’ is *art (—an artwork)…

What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensified, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a people to be fixed, canonical, and binding. Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions; they are metaphors that have become worn out and have been drained of sensuous force, coins which have lost their embossing and are now considered as metal and no longer as coins. (117)

 

—For Nietzsche, ‘truth’ appears as a projection of epiphenomenal, and purely human, utilitarian physiological, psychological and social fabrications. What is crucial for Nietzsche is that this act of artistic projection, and the subsequent artificial legislation of language to which it gives rise, are not recognised by their human progenitors as the works of art which they in fact are.—The original linguistic act of creation is inevitably followed, then, by an act of forgetting: ‘Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions’. The forgetting of the artistic origin and nature of language allows for the hypostatisation (the poetic or rhetorical intensification) of concepts and the false belief that they correspond absolutely to things as they are in themselves.

 

—Through an ironic inversion, Nietzsche argues that truths are revealed as lies.

 

*a seeming paradox, then. … *—the condition of the possibility of ‘truth’, is seen to rest on a foundation of falsehood, upon which it is utterly dependent.

 

 

*[…]

 

*—Nietzsche opposes his thesis of the three stages of: …

(i)—the artistic projection,

(ii)—the repression of the memory of act of projection

and (iii)—the subsequent hypostatisation of the concepts of the intellect, …

to what he argues is the false consciousness that they correspond absolutely to a metaphysical reality:

Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions; they are metaphors that have become worn out and have been drained of sensuous force, coins which have lost their embossing and are now considered as metal and no longer as coins. (Nietzsche, ‘On Truth’, 117)

 

—Through the gradual process of their hypostatisation, the concepts of the intellect become stale and dead metaphors, which, Nietzsche argues, no longer retain any connection to, or use value for, experience.

 

—They’re no longer able to capture ‘vivid first impressions’. (118)

 

—They become little more than the mode of expression of a (Platonic) philosophical and of a moral prejudice.

 

 

*For Nietzsche, existing concepts, as ‘abstractions’ and petrified prejudices, serve to distort human life. …

 

*—In order to overcome the stultification of the exhausted metaphors of the concepts, and in order to revivify the fundamentally artistic drive of the intellect and grasp ‘vivid first impressions,’ Nietzsche opposes ‘intuition’ *(—Anschauung) to the conceptual:

[The intellect] will now be guided by intuitions rather than by concepts. There is no regular path which leads from these intuitions into the land of ghostly schemata, the land of abstractions. There exists no word for these intuitions: when man sees them he grows dumb, or else he speaks only in forbidden metaphors and in unheard-of combinations of concepts. He does this so that by shattering and mocking the old conceptual barriers he may at least correspond creatively to the impression of the powerful and present intuition. (118)

 

For Nietzsche, the intensely undergone aesthetic experience—the ‘impression’—of the ‘powerful’ and ‘present’ ‘intuition’, lies outwith the field of possible experience outlined, sanctioned and policed by the concepts of extant linguistic convention.

 

The intellect, he argues, is driven by the need to articulate—to ‘correspond creatively’ to—this experience. In order for this to be possible, it is necessary to lacerate the petrified or stultified surface of the ‘ghostly’ Platonic abstractions of the concepts,—bereft of life, and lacking in both substance and any direct, visceral connection to the reality (so to) of lived experience.

 

 

*—… In the articulation of the intuition, the intellect becomes enmeshed in a process of the bathetic (—‘mocking’) reanimation of the concepts, smashing the ‘framework’ of the concepts ‘to pieces’, throwing it into a state of confusion, and ‘pairing the most alien things and separating the closest.’ (122)

 

In stark contrast to the ‘distortion’ of life, which he argues is implicitly at stake in the forgetting of the act of creation, and false—‘Platonic’—reification, of the concepts of conventional linguistic experience, ‘intuition’, as a projected philosophical method of the future, is defined, for Nietzsche, by its capacity for self-conscious ‘dissimulation’, enacted with a good (—a clear) conscience.

 

*—Intuition sets the intellect free, and the liberated intellect in turn ‘copies human life’ in its new bathetic, monstrous, hybridised metaphors. …

 

In contrast to the hardened veneer of the extant concepts, inaugurated and preserved as a crutch for the ‘needy man’ (—the ‘servant’, who requires the legislation of an uncritically accepted linguistic order in order to be able to function and to—persevere… )—‘the means by which weaker, less robust individuals preserve themselves’… —the intellect, freed through intuition, is enabled to become the ‘master’ of life and of ‘deception’. (122) Freed from its former ‘slavery’, the intellect ‘copies human life, but it considers this life to be something good’ and no longer needing to be redeemed or justified through falsely hypostatised, artistically projected (Platonic) concepts.

 

*on the ‘classical’ vs. the ‘romantic’ in Joyce, Nietzsche, and T.E. Hulme

*(—follows on from ‘Art and Life’ (from the ‘epiphany’ to the ‘esthetic image’), ‘a paean’, ‘the image.—vs. Platonic ressentiment’, and ‘—toward a disruptive, anti-transcendental “classicism”’. …)

 

 

*on the ‘image’.—vs. Platonic ressentiment.
—part (ii)…

*—the ‘classical’.—vs. the ‘romantic
(—in Joyce, Nietzsche, & T.E. Hulme.) …

 

 It would lead you to believe that he had in mind symbolism or idealism, the supreme quality of beauty being a light from some other world, the idea of which the matter is but a shadow, the reality of which it is but the symbol. (Joyce, Portrait, *—230).

 

(Hmm.).

 

 

*—In the ‘Art and Life’ ‘paper’ which Stephen delivers to the Literary and Historical Society of his college in Stephen Hero, he defines literature in terms of two contrasting and competing artistic ‘tempers’: *—the ‘romantic’ and the ‘classical’.

*(SH, 83. *—See also, Joyce’s own ‘James Clarence Mangan’ article (—of 1902),—CW, 53-60, where he refers to ‘the classical and romantic schools’ [53.—emphasis added here.]).

 

 

—In terms, of which I’d maintain (at least) the later rejection of: ‘a light from some other world, the idea of which the matter is but a shadow, the reality of which it is but the symbol’ in-of Portrait forms (-represents) an… echo, or a reiteration, Stephen (in his earlier textual incarnation in Stephen Hero) defines the ‘romantic’ as an—*‘unsatisfied, impatient temper which sees no fit abode here for its ideals and chooses therefore to behold them under insensible figures’. …

(—SH, 83. And I’d argue that this represents a clarification of sorts of an almost identical and yet perhaps more intemperate passage in ‘James Clarence Mangan’… —

The romantic school is often and grievously misinterpreted not more by others than its own, for that impatient temper which, as it could see no fit abode here for its ideals, chose to behold them under insensible figures, comes to disregard certain limitations, and, because these figures are blown high and low by the mind that conceived them, comes at times to regard them as feeble shadows moving aimlessly about the light, obscuring it. [53]

… ).

 

 

*Stephen, then, castigates what he calls the—*‘romantic temper’ in art, for its idealism:

… a seeking after an ideal-ideals,—a disappointment with life’s inability to furnish that ideal (—those ideals), frustration and dissatisfaction with, and a (subsequent-resultant) renunciation of, lived experience *(—of life): ‘no fit abode here’…, and a presentation of its ‘ideals’ through ‘insensible figures’: —I’d argue intentionally reminiscent of Yeats’s definition of the symbol as the ‘expression of some invisible essence, a transparent lamp about a spiritual flame’, and what Chadwick lucidly and concisely dubs the ‘built in obscurity’ of (transcendental) Symbolism *(—on this, see: *‘on the image vs. the “symbol”’).

 

 

And so,… (why ever not?) …

 

*—Following (on from) my reading of Joyce’s ironic appropriation of the terms of Aquinas’s account of ‘Beauty’ in the evolution of the concept of the ‘epiphany’ (—in-of Stephen Hero) to the (‘esthetic’) *‘image’ (of Portrait) *(see: ‘on “Art & Life”.’ [—link].), I’m now in a position, I feel, to argue that it’s the terms of this castigation of the ‘romantic’ which are (implicitly) at stake in Stephen’s rejection of the ‘Platonic’ metaphysics in-of ‘symbolism and idealism’ in his definition of the ‘image’ in his later textual incarnation in Portrait.

 

—I’ve already argued that Stephen’s interpretation of Aquinas’ claritas and definition of the ‘image’, represents the refinement of the earlier concept of the ‘epiphany’. …

 

*—I want to go further here, and argue that, although the terms may not appear explicitly in Portrait,… his rejection of a ‘Yeatsian’ (or, at perhaps at the very least,—‘Yeats-esque’ (?—sic)) ‘Platonic’ aesthetical metaphysics, represents the synthesis (so to) of the ‘epiphany’—or, perhaps rather,—its *incorporation … —with the terms of Stephen’s rejection of the ‘romantic’, and subsequent definition—and championing—of the ‘classical’, in-of Stephen Hero (—these terms being drawn from Joyce’s own early critical writing).

 

 

*—To conceive of the ‘image’ in-of Portrait as the refinement of the ‘epiphany’, and its implicit incorporation with the earlier material on the ‘classical’ (—vs. the ‘romantic) in this way, I’ll argue, places the text—intellectually and philosophically—in a close relationship to the terms of Nietzsche’s writing on art, T.E. Hulme’s writing on Modern art and Bergson’s philosophy, and to (/as well as) the terms and manifestoes of self-styled neo-classical Modernism more broadly.

 

 

* … —To read the terms of Nietzsche’s writing on art, Hulme’s conception of Modern art and reading of Bergsonian philosophy, and the Modernist manifestoes and works, can reveal a parallel, or (perhaps rather) parallels, that can help define what’s at stake, philosophically, in the ‘romantic’ and the ‘classical’,… *(that is)—the philosophical underpinnings (foundations) and consequences for art *(—form, style, and its proper subject matter) of the ‘image’. …

 

 

 

*—In Stephen Hero (and this is also true of Joyce’s own early critical writing),—it’s specifically over—and against—the… otherworldly life-renunciation, at stake within what he defines as the ‘romantic’, that Stephen offers his definition of the ‘classical’. …

 

*—‘The classical temper on the other hand, ever mindful of limitations, chooses rather to bend upon these present things and so to work upon them and fashion them that the quick intelligence may go beyond them to their meaning which is still unuttered.’ (283) …

*(Cf. ‘James Clarence Mangan’, 53.—Also Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper. …

 

—Stanislaus cites Joyce’s rejection of ‘poets for whom only what is imaginary possesses poetic value’, against which he posits Joyce’s conception of poetry that seeks ‘to capture moods and impressions, often tenuous moods and elusive impressions, by means of verbal witchery that magnetizes the mind like a spell, and imports a wonder and grace’. [—166]. …).

 

 

*—For Stephen,… —the ‘classical’ artist, in contrast to the ‘romantic’, retains an ineradicable consciousness, then, of their finitude,—their… rootedness (sic—so to) in-within the everyday. …

 

—They don’t seek, then, as does the ‘romantic’ artist, to exceed or to escape these bounds. …

 

 

—Instead,… the ‘classical’ artist focuses (—‘bends’…) upon the ‘here’ (and the now) of contemporaneous experience, and upon ‘present things’, in order to present experience and the objects of experience in such a way as to communicate their ‘meaning’…

 

*—the ‘proper conditions’ of the (‘esthetic’) image. …

 

*… —‘Art is not an escape from life. It’s just the very opposite. Art, on the contrary, is the very central expression of life. An artist is not a fellow who dangles a mechanical heaven before the public. The priest does that. The artist affirms out of the fullness of his own life, he creates…’. *(SH,—90-91)

 

 

*And the terms of this—rejection of the ‘romantic’ (—of the ‘romantic temper’)—of its… ‘idealism’ and (thus concomitant) incapacity to find what it’s looking for in(-within) life, and its (subsequent) desire, then, to *escape from life (—into the supposéd: ‘infinite’…)—and championing (by direct contrast) of the ‘classical’, it seems clear to me (at least) anyway, provide the foundation for a direct and a mutually illuminating comparison between the terms of Stephen’s aesthetic theory and those in-of Nietzsche’s later writing on art. …

*(though, as I said in *‘a paean’,… —I’m aware that the terms themselves, and the debate between the differing and often opposed artistic schools or movements they inspired (—who may have rallied, so to, at one time or another, beneath their respective banners), goes back much further than Nietzsche. …

*—Hegel, for example, had used the terms in his ‘Aesthetics’ (which I want to write about elsewhere. eventually…), and they go back at least as far as Pope’s Augustan neo-classicism in the C18th (which Wordsworth later vociferously criticised and rejected in ‘The Preface to the Lyrical Ballads’), and to Goethe and Schiller…

—There is, in essence, far more to be said then about the (terms) ‘classical’ and ‘romantic’,… but I’m going to focus here on their use by-within, and thus the mutually illuminating parallel between, Nietzsche and neo-classical Modernism, and try to demonstrate the place of Stephen’s aesthetic theory and Joyce’s writing in relation to both… ).

 

 

*—The terms of Stephen’s rejection of the ‘romantic’ and championing of the ‘classical’ correspond *(—exactly) to those of Nietzsche’s much earlier opposition of ‘classical’ to ‘romantic’ art and aesthetics,—first formulated in Human, All Too Human… —

 

Classic and romantic. – Both those spirits of a classical and those of a romantic bent – these two species exist at all times – entertain a vision of the future: but the former do so out of a strength of their age, the latter out of its weakness.

*(—‘The Wanderer and His Shadow’ (hereafter HH IIb) in Human, All Too Human, §217, 366)

 

*For Nietzsche,… —the ‘classical’ and the ‘romantic’ aren’t intended, then, to denote the art of any given (—any specific) historical era, but, instead, represent (artistic-aesthetic) *tendencies,… —present, and coexisting, in(within) the artistic works of all ages,… —aimed toward the future, and marked: —by either all that which is affirmative and strong in a given age (as is the case in Nietzsche’s delineation of the ‘classical’), or by all that is reactive and weak (—the ‘romantic’. …).

 

 

*—In The Gay Science, Nietzsche develops this conception of the reactivity and weakness of ‘romantic’ art, and defines the romantic type as they—‘who suffer from the impoverishment of life and seek rest, stillness, calm seas, redemption from themselves through art and knowledge, or intoxication, convulsions, anaesthesia, and madness.’

*(—in The Gay Science, trans. Walter Kaufmann [New York: Vintage Books, 1974] (—hereafter GS),… —V, §370, 327-331 [328]. … —Nietzsche here names both Schopenhauer and Wagner as quintessential ‘romantic’ types…).

 

… —For Nietzsche, ‘romantic’ art is distinguished by a psychological-physiological need to escape from, and to renounce life. …

 

*… —It names a need for a remedy from life—(—a need (felt)) to be anaesthetised,—seemingly paradoxically accomplished through the attainment of states of intoxication (or rapture), convulsion, and madness,… —all framed here as alleviations from life-existence. …

 

 

*… —And I want to argue here that the terms of Nietzsche’s critique of ‘romanticism’, as these are laid out in The Gay Science, corresponds to, and can be usefully read and understood through, those of his later critique, in On the Genealogy of Morality (—expanded upon, to some extent-degree, in Beyond Good and Evil), of what he calls… *—ressentiment (—OGM, 1, §10, 21-25, [esp. 23]), in a way which will help make clear what I feel to be at stake in Joyce’s writing and in neo-classical Modernist definitions of art and Manifestos (more generally). …

 

 

—As an important aspect of his broader critique of the origins, birth, and historical legacy of Christian morality, ol’ Fritz defines ressentiment (retaining the original French term) as belonging to ‘those beings who, being denied the proper response of action, compensate for it only with imaginary revenge.’ (21) …

 

*… —Ressentiment stems (-emerges), then, from an *incapacity to act in response to external stimuli, resulting in a further incapacity to fully discharge the emotional-psychological responses stimulated by them.

 

 

—Instead, such responses become… suppressed, and frustrated, and continue to be harboured, long after any opportunity to fully (meaningfully) purge them has passed. …

 

Nietzsche locates ressentiment at the root of what, in the Genealogy, he calls: ‘slave morality’. … —

 

[S]lave morality says “no” on principle to everything that is “outside”, “other”, “non-self”: and this “no” is its creative deed. This reversal of the evaluating glance – this inevitable orientation to the outside instead of back onto itself – is a feature of ressentiment: in order to come about, slave morality first has to have an opposing, external world. (Ibid.)

 

The ‘reversal’ pointed to here, is that of what Nietzsche calls ‘Master morality’, which, in opposition to modern liberal and humanist politics, he argues, derives its notion of the ‘good’ not from altruism—that is, (for Nietzsche) from those to whom good is done—but, instead, from its own superabundance of life and energy *(that is,… —from within its own capacity to do ‘good’, so to speak…), in contrast to that which it deems lowly and plebeian *(—that which/those who are unable to act…). (—Cf. 1, §2, 12-13).

 

 

—In Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche defines the ‘noble’ type who creates values out of a ‘feeling of fullness, of power that seeks to overflow, the happiness of high tension, the consciousness of wealth that would give and bestow’ (BGE, IX, §260, 205), and in the ‘Attempt at Self-Criticism’ preface to Birth *(importantly, at least for my current, broader  purposes here,—written during the same year as BGE),—the ‘joy, strength, overflowing health, [and] overgreat fullness’ which underpin the birth of tragedy. *(—See BT, ‘ASC,’ §4, 21) …

 

 

—In (within) ‘slave morality’, the direction of this ‘evaluating gaze’, then (for ol’ Fritz), is *—inverted. …

 

 

—The ‘slave’ must rely on an opposing ‘external world,’ which it can judge as ‘evil,’ in order to establish itself, then,—*negatively—as ‘good’…

 

*—‘its action is basically a reaction’. (—OGM, 1, §10, 22. Cf. 21-24)

 

 

—Unable to act, ‘slave morality’ transforms impotence to retaliate (—to act) into ‘goodness’, … —‘timid baseness’ into ‘humility’, and its forced submission to those it despises into ‘obedience’… —especially obedience to God. (—§14, 29-31 [30])

 

—‘Slave morality’, and (by extension) *‘the man of ressentiment’, Nietzsche argues, yearn for revenge and seek ‘consolation for all the sufferings of the world’ in the *—‘phantasmagoria of anticipated future bliss’. (31) …

 

*—Nietzsche identifies this—‘phantasmagoria’ with the Christian conception of ‘“the last judgment”, the coming of their kingdom, the “kingdom of God”’,… and argues that ressentiment lies at the root of the need for, and creation of, all ‘other worlds’.  … (Ibid.—emphasis added here. … —and see Deleuze, Nietzsche and Philosophy, 104-138)

 

 

*—Stephen’s rejection of ‘romanticism’ (in Stephen Hero), refined and incorporated (even as it’s rendered far more compact, far less explicit, and far more allusive, perhaps) in the ‘esthetic image’ of Portrait, can thus be understood in terms of a rejection of the ressentiment implicitly at stake in (the example here) of a Yeatsian/Yeats-esque—‘Platonic’—transcendental Symbolism. …

 

 

*The ‘classical,’ by contrast, for Nietzsche, is marked by ‘[r]igorous reflection, terseness, coldness, simplicity, deliberately pursued even to their limit, self containment of the feelings and silence in general.’ (HH I, §195, 93-94.—Cf. HH I, §171, 90)

 

 

*—Nietzsche privileges (—champions) ‘classical’ over ‘romantic’ art. …

 

—In contrast to the ‘romantic’ poet’s frustrated, life-renouncing, other-worldly intoxication, Nietzsche argues that— (…)

 

[T]he good poet of the future will depict only reality and completely ignore all those fantastic, superstitious, half-mendacious, faded subjects upon which earlier poets demonstrated their powers. Only reality, but by no means every reality! – he will depict a select reality! (HH IIa, §114, 239-240)

 

The ‘classical’, for Nietzsche, then, is founded on a metaphysical scepticism (or,—mistrust), and on a form of stoical pragmatism,… *—a refusal of the ‘spiritual’,—rejecting the ressentiment, other-worldly consolation, and anaesthetisation characteristic of the ‘romantic’. …

 

*—It focuses on the ‘reality’ surrounding the poet. …

 

*This ‘reality’ is then subject to a disciplined process of reflection, selection, and refinement.

(—Nietzsche lays emphasis, particularly, on the accuracy, and the simplicity in-of the depiction of the selected reality). …

 

 

 

 

*—completing my reading of The Birth of Tragedy, then.
(a sort of an—aside…). …

 

 

 

*—The terms of Nietzsche’s rejection of the metaphysics, the ressentiment of (at stake within) ‘romanticism’, and definition of the ‘classical’ in the ‘free-spirit trilogy’ of his ‘middle period’ are, I’d argue, already at stake in the—ostensibly—Schopenhauerian and late-Romantic The Birth of Tragedy. …

 

—To take the liberty, then, of recapitulating (at some length.—bear with me, if you would). …

 

 

—In my reading of Birth,… under the rubric of what I (somewhat hesitantly) dubbed Nietzsche’s nascent ‘naturalism’,… —I argued that in Birth the Apollinian—as a mode of the sublime—forms the artistic correlate to, or manifestation of, the (necessary, physiological-existential) drive for-to the *incorporation of lived experience. …

 

By contrast, I argued that the Dionysian forms the correlate-manifestation of the equal but opposite drive to-for the *purgation of lived experience (—a lethargic forgetting). …

 

—The Apollinian finds expression in (—gives rise-birth to) the plastic arts: … —discrete forms…

 

*—(‘heroic’) individuation.

 

 

—The Dionysian, in-by contrast, represents the—intensely undergone—experience of the laceration of individuation (…—of the *discretion of form. …): …

 

*—a form of access (so to) to the undivided continuity of flux (what Nietzsche calls—the ‘primal unity’) beneath the ‘individual’,… —directly captured in the immediate, physical and emotional expression of music and dance.

 

 

—In tragedy, these two drives,—these two modes, then,—of the sublime,… —are conjoined.

 

 

*(…)—In tragedy, the divestiture of (the quotidian) ‘self’, identity with the ‘primal unity’, and the Dionysian-musical ecstasy which embodies this experience, necessarily, spontaneously and organically (—that is, without, or, rather, independent of the volition of the poet) generate mythic or imagistic representations.

*—from within themselves. …

 

*—The individuated,…-discrete (—empirical) ‘self’ is divested in the Dionysian (—the Dionysian is the experience precipitated by its divestiture), only to return—as an image,—(re-)born in-of music, to embody that experience.  …

 

 

*—For Nietzsche, the ‘union’ (so to) of the Dionysian and the Apollinian is not a moment in which the two drives are… —‘synthesised’ to form a third, separate, single phenomenon. …

 

*Instead, it takes the form of a *process in which the two drives are conjoined, and yet remain distinct. …

 

 

*—A temporal hierarchy (priority) subsists, in which the purgative Dionysian mode of the sublime—as first moment,—necessarily engenders the Apollinian sublime mode of incorporation. …

 

*However,… —this is neither a qualitative, nor is it an ontological hierarchy, but the resulting conjunction represents the highest manifestation-incarnations (for ol’ Fritz) of both modes of the sublime…

*—‘the Dionysian in the experience of identity with primordial pain and contradiction, and the primordial pleasure in appearance in the recreation of its effect in music,—the Apollinian in its symbolisation of the Dionysian itself.’ (Birth,—§5, 49)

 

 

*—The process at stake is that of a double transposition… —from the ecstatic divestiture of self and identity with the ‘primal unity’ in the Dionysian into its ‘reflection’ and re-creation in music, and the generation from this in turn of images in the Apollinian whose purpose is the incorporation of the experience of the Dionysian.

 

*—Laceration and self-destruction (—the laceration of individuated subjectivity) in the experience of the Dionysian sublime, constitute the ‘objectivity’ of the artist.

 

—They are the condition of the possibility of-for the revelation of the ‘primal unity’ and the condition of the possibility for the creation of art. …

 

*For Nietzsche, only through undergoing laceration in the experience of the Dionysian can the artist-poet attain to the purgation and the redemption of the drives, and the (subsequent) incorporation of this experience of redemption in the mythic-symbolism of the ‘passions’ and ‘feelings’…

 

*—This is the ironic self-(re-)creation of the ‘I’ of the artist. …

 

—The process of the Dionysian-Apollinian sublime transposition can be understood, then, as a whole, as the process—the *shape—of a *fold… —

*

 

the fold (ii)

 

 

 

 

*… —from the (apparent) empirical (—the quotidian) ‘self’… —this ‘self’ divested in(-by) the intensely undergone Dionysian-musical experience of purgation…

 

released into the flux of the undivided continuity of states in-of the ‘primal unity’ (—the Ur-Eine) behind-beneath the ‘self’ (as felt-as lived). …

 

—prompted (spurred.—sic-so to), then, by the Apollinian drive to individuation,—to the incorporation of experience,…

 

*… —a drive (driven), then, to ‘return’ (so to), to the empirical self—as a register from which to draw words and images that can embody and articulate the experience of purgation. *(—the image… —the ‘I’ of the artist. … ).

 

 

In my reading of Birth, I argued that what underpinned this fold in the ironic self-(re-)creation of the artist was a nascent philosophical naturalism: that ol’ Fritz is concerned to identify a play of natural drives at the heart of artistic inspiration and creation, carefully eschewing recourse to the metaphysical by way of explanation. …

 

—In the preceding fragment—‘toward a disruptive, anti-transcendental “classicism”’ —I cited Lacoue-Labarthe and Nancy’s argument in The Literary Absolute that Romanticism (—the ‘Romantic’) present an account of artistic inspiration and creation (—an ‘aesthetic activity of production and formation’) ‘in which the absolute might be experienced and realized in an unmediated, immediate fashion […] a presentation of what in Kant remained unpresentable’, linking this to the attempted (or—staged)… over-leaping (so to) of Kant, and of the (Kantian) limits of the transcendental, in Schopenhauer’s conceptions of the ‘Will’ (—as thing in-itself/=X), and—more particularly—the (Platonic) Idea. (ix) …

 

*In *‘the fold in the self-creation of the artist’, I cited Nietzsche’s later account of ‘inspiration in Ecce Homo, in the context of Birth:

Has anyone at the end of the nineteenth century a clear idea of what poets of strong ages have called inspiration? […T]he idea that one is merely incarnation, merely mouthpiece, merely a medium of overpowering forces. The concept of revelation—in the sense that suddenly, with indescribable certainty and subtlety, something becomes visible, audible, something that shakes one to the last depths and throws one down—that merely describes the facts. One hears, one does not seek; one accepts, one does not ask who gives; like lightning, a thought flashes up, with necessity, without hesitation regarding its form—I never had any choice.

(Nietzsche, Ecce Homo, §3.,—300)

 

 

—Nietzsche describes ‘inspiration’ as the effect of forces that (seemingly) enter the subject from without—as an overpowering ravishment. …

 

Conscious volition, then, (for Nietzsche), can never engender a state of inspiration. …

 

*… —Inspiration is precipitated precisely by the overwhelming, and temporary suspension, of subjective willing.

 

 

*The terms of Nietzsche’s definition of inspiration here echo those of Romanticism—the Romantics. …

 

*I cited Shelley’s account of artistic inspiration in A Defence of Poetry as my example: …

 

A man cannot say, “I will compose poetry”. The greatest poet even cannot say it: for the mind in creation is a fading coal which some invisible influence, like an inconstant wind, awakens to transitory brightness: this power arises from within, like the colour of a flower which fades and changes as it is developed, and the conscious portions of our nature are unprophetic either of its approach or its departure.

(Shelley, A Defence of Poetry, 696-697)

 

 

*—Whilst Nietzsche’s conception of inspiration shares (or,—retains —?) the notions of spontaneity and involuntariness crucial to Shelley’s account, in line with his ironic appropriation of the terms of Schopenhauer’s aesthetics in Birth, Nietzsche rejects the Platonism at stake within it, and, particularly, the claim, later in Shelley’s account, that inspiration affords the poet access to Platonic Forms or Ideas… —*‘to be a poet is to apprehend the true and the beautiful, in a word the good’. (Shelley, 677.— See Clark, The Theory of Inspiration,—143-169)

 

 

*And so, …

 

—I want to conclude my reading of artistic inspiration and creation in Birth here by arguing that Nietzsche’s (nascent) philosophical naturalism, and the fold itself, reject the claims to the transcendental (—the ‘absolute’) within the Romantic, whilst appropriating its conception of the overwhelming of subjectivity in artistic inspiration to an anti-transcendental aesthetic.

 

*—In this sense, Birth can be seen to anticipate (if obliquely) the contrast and the opposition of the ‘classical’ of-to the ‘romantic’, staged explicitly in his later writing on art (and examined above).

 

*—That is,… —Birth represents the first, perhaps faltering articulation of a disruptive anti-transcendental classicism. …

 

*—In *‘on the “artists’ metaphysics”’,—using Henry Staten’s definition of ‘the classical reference-points of what is called Romanticism’ *(that is—‘Rousseauistic primitivism, recourse to a transcendental subject, doctrines of genius and inspiration, idealization of the Greeks, [and] antipathy to the rationalisation of nature’.—Nietzsche’s Voices, 187),… I opposed my reading to:

(i). Jürgen Habermas’s argument that Birth represents a dangerous ‘metaphysically transfigured irrationality’, to which, he suggests, Romanticism offers some sort of preferable alternative (Habermas, The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity, 92-96 [94]);

(ii). —to Aaron Ridley’s argument that the text represents ‘an arresting example of German Romanticism at its headiest’ (Ridley, Nietzsche on Art, 9),

(iii). and to Adrian Del Caro and Judith Norman, both of whom argue that Nietzsche’s position represents a form of (straightforward) anti-Romanticism (—Del Caro, Nietzsche contra Nietzsche, Norman, ‘Nietzsche and Early Romanticism’).

 

 

—In contrast to those readings which would characterise Birth as either simply and straightforwardly Romantic, or anti-Romantic,… it seems clear to me that Nietzsche’s relationship to Romantic metaphysics, aesthetics and conception of artistic inspiration in Birth, represents the creation of an ironic *Romantic–anti-Romanticism,—one which reflects his ironic appropriation of Schopenhauerian metaphysical and aesthetic vocabulary (and, indeed, his attempt to redeem Schopenhauer’s aesthetics from his metaphysics…).

 

*… Thus (—so,). …

 

—Whilst, apparently, an ostensibly late-Romantic text (—under the obvious influence of both Schopenhauer and Wagner),… —the ‘naturalism’, anti-metaphysics, and ironic Romantic—anti-Romanticism in-of Birth serve to align the text far more closely to the explicit outlining-definition of ‘classical’ art *(—of the ‘classical’)—in a deliberately staged, and incredibly stark, contrast to the ‘romantic’—in both the early incarnations of Stephen’s aesthetic theory, and in Nietzsche’s own later writing on art. …

 

—Indeed, the text, I feel (—I’d argue), stages, in-through the shape of the fold (—in-through an awkward and (perhaps) an unready voice, to paraphrase Nietzsche’s own later assessment of Birth in the ‘Attempt at Self-Criticism’), precisely this contrast or opposition (—of a ‘classical’ aesthetic to the ‘romantic’/Romantic), though (as yet) without the resources, and(/or) the vocabulary, to clarify it. …

 

 

*Hulme. … —the finite-finitude in (-of) the ‘classical’.
*—against the false, thwarted ‘infinities’ of the ‘romantic’. …

 

 

*The terms of the opposition of the ‘classical’ to the ‘romantic’, so crucial, then, to both iterations of Stephen’s aesthetic theory,—to Joyce’s own writing on art, and to that of Nietzsche… lie at the heart of, and are clarified and developed within, the theory and criticism of the self-styled neo-classicist ‘Modern’ writers. …

 

—In particular they lie at the heart of, and are (I would argue) expanded and clarified within, what T.E. Hulme was attempting in his writings on Modern Art and on Bergson’s Philosophy. …

 

—I’ve made (fleeting) contextual mention of Hulme’s centrality and importance to ‘Imagism’, to Ezra Pound’s theory and criticism, and to the neo-classical Modenrist nexus of the ‘image’ already here, and his name, and reading of Bergson, came up in connection with my reading of Nietzsche’s ‘On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense’, its links to Birth, the parallel between its key terms and those of Bergson’s philosophy, and its ties (so to) to Nietzsche’s later formulation of the will to power *(… —on all this, see: *[links]. …).

 

To read Hulme’s art criticism can help, then, I want to argue, in understanding what is at stake in the opposition of the ‘classical’ to the ‘romantic’ in both Joyce and Nietzsche, and to draw this parallel with (what I’ve dubbed here) Nietzsche’s *Romantic—anti-Romanticism, can help better understand the philosophical and art-historical stakes of neo-classical Modernist art-theory and criticism.

 

 

*In his writings on Bergson, and on Modern art, in particular, Hulme clearly lays out the ‘classical’ and the ‘romantic’, in terms which, frankly, look as though they could have been straightforwardly cut and paste from Nietzsche…

 

 

—In his essay of 1911, ‘Romanticism and Classicism,’ T.E. Hulme draws on Nietzsche’s earlier critique of the ‘romantic’ and privileging of the ‘classical’. (—Hulme, ‘Romanticism and Classicism’ in Speculations, 111-140)

 

—Hulme effectively qualifies Nietzsche’s conception of the ‘romantic’ by identifying it with what he argues constitutes the conception of the ‘human’ propagated during the French revolution.—This, in turn, he argues, derives from the work of Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

*(Cf. ‘A Tory Philosophy’.—Hulme, Selected Writings, 61…)

 

—He summarises the ‘romantic’ conception of the ‘human’ as one which claims that ‘man was by nature good, that it was only bad laws and customs that had suppressed him. Remove all these and the infinite possibilities of man would have a chance.’ (‘Romanticism and Classicism’,—116)

 

Hulme argues that the ‘romantic’ conceives of culture as inherently corrupt and corrupting.

 

*… —In a ‘natural’ state, ‘man’ is innately ‘good’ and it is only the false finitude of legal and cultural constrictions which serve to corrupt ‘man’.

 

Remove these constrictions and ‘man’ would be capable of realising ‘his’ innate goodness and infinite possibilities.

(Hulme’s rejection of the ‘romantic’ then, if it doesn’t indeed borrow directly from it, at the very least shares a great deal in common with (to borrow Staten’s formulation) Nietzsche’s rejection of ‘Rousseauistic primitivism’: represents a forthright rejection of culture and a ‘return’ to a state of nature, such as is promoted in Rousseau’s Émile.

In *‘the fold in the self-creation of the artist’, I referenced Keith Ansell Pearson’s argument, (for example), that in his early writings, ‘Nietzsche criticizes Rousseau’s paean to nature, and his belief in man’s natural goodness, which have their basis in romanticism.’ Nietzsche is critical of the ‘modern’ conception of the artist in terms of Émile and its corresponding idealisation of nature…

Rousseau’s portrait of Émile’s realization of his fundamental human nature and the achievement of oneness with nature, achieved by withdrawing the child and adolescent from the degenerative effects of corrupt social institutions and allowing his natural goodness to flourish, fails to recognise the dark and terrible forces of nature which must be overcome.

[Ansell Pearson Nietzsche contra Rousseau, 25]

In a series instalments first published in The New Age, December 1915—February 1916, and reprinted, in an abridged version, by Read as: ‘Humanism and the Religious Attitude’ (— Speculations, 1-71.—See Patricia Rae, The Practical Muse: Pragmatist Poetics in Hulme, Pound, and Stevens [London: Associated University Presses, Inc., 1997], 49, Hulme expands on his conception of the illusory infinitude of Romanticism, and ties it particularly to the politics of Humanism and to the artistic portrayal of sexual relations:

*—‘Romanticism […] confuses both human and divine things, by not clearly separating them. The main thing with which it can be reproached is that it blurs the clear outlines of human relations – whether in political thought or in the literary treatment of sex, by introducing in them, the Perfection that properly belongs to the non-human.’

[—‘A Notebook’, Selected Writings, 180-222 (189)].

*—Hulme’s rejection of ‘romanticism’s’ confusion of the human and the divine, treating of the human as if it were itself the divine, for me, establishes a clear parallel with Stephen’s rejection of  the Platonic projection of a false, and—‘otherworldly’ ideal in Yeats’s formulation of transcendental Symbolism.

*[—on Hulme’s own rejection of Plato, Yeats and the ‘“mystical” account of the creative process, see ‘Notes on Language and Style’ (c. 1907), Selected Writings, 57, and Rae, Practical Muse, 33 … ]. ).

 

 

In essence, Hulme defines the contrast between the ‘romantic’ and ‘classical’ as stemming from the contrast between opposing conceptions of the ‘infinite’ (—?), and of the finite (—finitude). …

 

 

—Echoing Nietzsche (in a sense),—he identifies a fundamental resentment against life in romanticism, emerging from the perspective of the false politics of the infinite capabilities of ‘man’… —

 

The romantic, because he thinks man infinite, must always be talking about the infinite; and as there is always the bitter contrast between what you think you ought to be able to do and what man actually can, it always tends, in its later stages at any rate, to be gloomy. (‘Romanticism and Classicism’, Speculations, 119)

 

 

*—For Hulme, because the romantic attitude emerges from this perspective of the false politics of the infinite capabilities of ‘man’ (—‘what you think you ought to be able to do’), it must (—inevitably-ineluctably) run up against the limitations of ‘man’s’ undeniable and inescapable finitude. …

 

—As such, it becomes motivated by the resentment that its inevitable frustration engenders…

 

*—In terms which again echo those of Nietzsche and those of Stephen, Hulme contrasts the attitude of the classical artist-poet to the gloom of this thwarted idealism of the ‘romantic’… —

 

[E]ven in the most imaginative flights there is always a holding back, a reservation. The classical poet never forgets this finiteness, this limit of man. He remembers always that he is mixed up with the earth. He may jump, but he always returns back; he never flies away into the circumambient gas. (119-120. Cf. 126-127)

 

 

—In contrast to the imaginative ‘flights’ of romanticism,… —away from life and into the rarefied atmosphere-aether of—‘circumambient gas’. … —Hulme defines the ‘flights’ of the classical artist as *leaps, which ineluctably return the artist to their finiteness-finitude,—their ‘limit’,… and to the earth, with which they are (inextricably)… ‘mixed up’ (—read: bound to…), and which forms their proper subject matter.

 

 

*—In contrast to what he characterises as the quasi-mystical, life-abnegating flights of romanticism, then, Hulme posits the—‘dry hardness’ of classicism (and the ‘classical),— ‘strictly confined to the earthly and the definite […] always the light of ordinary day’. (126-127). …

 

*—In opposition to what he sarcastically dubs the ‘abysses’ and ‘eternal gases’ of the ‘romantic’,… ‘classical’ art is concerned with the transposition of quotidian experience.

 

 

*—To the ‘romantic’s’ false politics of ‘man’s’—‘infinitude’,… Hulme opposes what he defines as ‘classicism’s’ conception of *‘original sin’…

Man is by his very nature essentially limited and incapable of attaining any kind of perfection, because either by nature, as the result of original sin, or the result of evolution, he encloses within him certain antinomies. There is a war of instincts inside him.

(—‘A Tory Philosophy’, Selected Writings, 160).

 

—In the later ‘Humanism and the Religious Attitude’, Hulme defines this position as the ‘religious attitude’, in contrast to the politics of ‘humanism’, from which, he argues, the ‘romantic’ itself originally emerged. (Speculations, 1-71 [esp. 47].—Cf. ‘A Notebook’, Selected Writings, 180-222 [208-209]) …

 

He argues that the ‘classical’ attitude begins from a conception of the political and artistic expediency of the concept of ‘original sin’. …

 

*(That is,…) —‘Man’ is essentially a chaotic flux of warring instincts, and the only way in which to extract anything of value(-worth) from ‘man’ is through the imposition of an artificial order… —‘The best results can only be got out of man as the result of a certain discipline which introduces order into this internal anarchy’. (‘A Tory Philosophy’, Selected Writings, 160)

*(… —Elsewhere in ‘A Tory Philosophy’, Hulme alludes to the terms of Nietzsche’s conception of the ‘classical’ (which clearly exercised an influence on his own), but rejects Nietzsche as a closet ‘romantic’, and seeks to distance himself from him… —

Most people have been in the habit of associating these kinds of views with Nietzsche. It is true that they do occur in him, but he made them so frightfully vulgar that no classic would acknowledge them. In him you have the spectacle of a romantic seizing on the classic point of view because it attracted him purely as a theory, and who, being a romantic, in taking up this theory, passed his slimy fingers over every detail of it. (—Hulme, Selected Writings, 61)

Although his own definition so closely echoes Nietzsche’s rejection of the ressentiment at stake in ‘romanticism’, Hulme goes on in particular to reject the terms of On the Genealogy of Morality. (Ibid.)

—Hulme’s ostensible rejection of Nietzsche (perhaps wilfully here) elides the importance and centrality of the ‘classical’ in Nietzsche’s definition of his own philosophical and aesthetic project.

—Hulme’s refutation, I’d suggest, should be taken then, perhaps, as a desire to lay claim to intellectual independence, rather than as a legitimate or thoroughgoing critique of Nietzsche. *(—?)… ). …

 

*—For both Nietzsche and for Hulme, then, just as in Stephen’s rejection of ‘symbolism’ and ‘idealism’ on the grounds of the artificiality of the ‘Platonic’ (hmm) ‘light from some other world, the idea of which the matter is but a shadow, the reality of which it is but the symbol’,… *—the ‘romantic’ attitude is distinguished by its incapacity to reconcile itself with its own finitude and limitations. …

 

 

*Insofar as his interpretation of claritas is conditioned by its implicit satirical caricature and critique of the Platonic aesthetical metaphysics at stake (for example) in Yeats’s ‘transcendental’ Symbolism, Stephen’s definition of ‘artistic apprehension’ and the ‘esthetic image’ in Portrait are therefore firmly located in the philosophical and aesthetic rejection of the ‘romantic’ and championing of the ‘classical’,—stretching from Nietzsche’s writings of the late eighteen seventies to Hulme’s writing on aesthetics. …

 

*And, as such,… *—a strong parallel thus also exists, I’d argue, between the terms of Stephen’s exposition of claritas, the ‘esthetic image’, and of the ‘classical’, and the principles of the later Imagist movement, of which Hulme is regarded to be both one of the original founders/inspiration, and the ‘philosopher’ *(—See Patricia M. Rae, ‘T.E. Hulme’s French Sources: A Reconsideration’, Comparative Literature, 41 (1989), 69-99 *[69]),… and so it’s worth pausing to (briefly) outline the key terms and artistic principles/conditions of Pound and the Imagists on the way to clarifying Dedalus’s conception of the image. …

 

*the ‘image’.—vs. Platonic ressentiment *(—on the Becoming Actual of the Being of Beauty.—part II).

*(—follows on from *‘from the “epiphany” to the “esthetic image”… *—the evolution of the aesthetic theory in Joyce’s early fiction’ and, more particularly, *‘on the Becoming Actual of the Being of Beauty (—the “classical” vs. the “romantic”).—part I: a paean’ …).

 

*on the ‘image’.—vs. Platonic ressentiment. …
(—the image vs. the ‘symbol’. …).

*In Portrait, Stephen employs his focus on artistic inspiration and creation to articulate the resolution of his struggle to interpret claritas… —

 

It would lead you to believe that he had in mind symbolism or idealism, the supreme quality of beauty being a light from some other world, the idea of which the matter is but a shadow, the reality of which it is but the symbol.( Portrait, 230)

 

Stephen opposes his own interpretation of claritas to that of its (potential) otherworldly interpretation, according to the rubric of *‘symbolism’ or ‘idealism’, which would consign reality to an inferior and subsidiary position to the ‘idea’. …

 

*This, for Stephen, represents mere—‘literary talk’,… —a form of artificial (that is,… —artistically crafted) prosthesis, then,… —grafted onto reality, and which would have the undesirable effect of making the ‘esthetic image’ ‘outshine its proper conditions’. …

(231.—Cf. ‘Drama and Life’ [1900],—*CW, 23-29, where Joyce opposes himself to what he calls the ‘doctrine of idealism in art’. [—27]…)

 

 

*So,…

 

—I want to argue here that Stephen’s stark (almost belligerent) rejection of the terms of this… *—otherworldly idealism, in effect, constitutes a kind of implicit parody of the terms of W.B. Yeats’s definition of Symbolism.

 

… Or, rather (—more accurately and less controversially, perhaps),… *—Yeats’s ‘Symbolism’ embodies (that is,—provides the clearest philosophical and aesthetic example of) precisely what it is that Stephen seeks to reject. …

 

*—In particular, I want to argue here,… Stephen is opposed to what Charles Chadwick defines as the ‘transcendental’ ‘mode’ of Symbolist poetry.

*(… —And I’ll follow Chadwick’s distinction between the ‘personal aspect’ of Symbolism, in which it attempts to express ideas and emotions, and its ‘transcendental’ aspect, in which it attempts to express the ‘ideal world’.—Symbolism [London: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1971],—2-3. …

*—Joyce became familiar with the central tenets of Symbolism through his association with Yeats and through Arthur Symons’, The Symbolist Movement in Literature [London: William Heineman, 1899].

In his biography of Joyce, Richard Ellmann states that Joyce had first read Symons’ work in 1900, and goes on to suggest that this formed part of Joyce’s early search for his own distinctive style as a writer *(—See Ellmann, James Joyce, 76).

Joyce met Symons through Yeats in 1902, when he stopped in London on his way to Paris. Symons befriended Joyce and made a promise, which he later delivered on, to publish some of Joyce’s early poetry. [111-112] Symons was a close associate of Yeats and dedicated The Symbolist Movement to Yeats as a friend and ‘the chief representative’ of the ‘movement’.—See also Yeats, ‘The Symbolism of Poetry’ [1900] in SCP, 43-52 [—43]. …). …

 

*—In his essay on William Blake’s illustrations to Dante’s Divine Comedy (—1896), Yeats offers a definition of Blake’s concept of ‘vision’ in terms of the ‘symbol’, and in contradistinction to ‘allegory’…

 

A symbol is indeed the only possible expression of some invisible essence, a transparent lamp about a spiritual flame; while allegory is one of many possible representations of an embodied thing, or familiar principle, and belongs to fancy and not to imagination. (Yeats, SCP, 22-32 [—22])

 

Yeats’s Symbolism, then, constitutes the attempt to articulate an ‘invisible essence’ (a—‘spiritual flame’… —?), in contrast to ‘allegory’, which, for Yeats (at least), is merely a representation of the material, ‘embodied’ object: *—of something both concrete and ‘familiar’. …

 

 

*… —In ‘transcendental Symbolism’, as Chadwick argues,—

*—‘concrete images are used as symbols, not of particular thoughts and feelings within the poet, but of a vast and general ideal world of which the real world is merely an imperfect representation.’ (3)

 

… —At the heart of the transcendental Symbolist aesthetic is an implicit metaphysics which opposes an ‘ideal world’ to that of the ‘real’, ‘concrete’ world of experience.

 

 

—Yeats’s ‘transcendental’ Symbolism, in essence,—uses the quotidian world merely as register from which to draw ‘symbols’ as a means to express the ‘ideal world’ which is portrayed as the true subject of art.

*(—See Matthew Campbell, ‘The English Romantic Symbolists’, in David Holdeman and Ben Levitas, eds., W.B. Yeats in Context [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010],—310-319:

*—‘Blake taught Yeats that a symbol stands prior to and posterior to poet and poem, and poetry must return to it, seeking its “invisible essence”.’ [—312.—Emphasis added here…]). …

 

 

*Again, in terms evoking the ethereal, ‘spiritual’, and intangible,… —in ‘The Symbolism of Poetry’ (1900), Yeats elaborates on his earlier definition of the symbol…

 

All sounds, all colours, all forms, either because of their preordained energies or because of long association, evoke indefinable and yet precise emotions, or, as I prefer to think, call down among us certain disembodied powers, whose footsteps over our hearts we call emotions. (Yeats, SCP, 43-52 [—46])

 

*Yeats distinguishes between two ‘types’ of symbol. …

 

—The first, (in line with the passage quoted above), he calls ‘emotional symbols’.

 

To these he contrasts the second type of ‘intellectual symbols’, which, he argues, ‘evoke ideas alone, or ideas mingled with emotions’. (49)

 

In his definition of the limitation of ‘intellectual symbols’, Yeats is even more explicitly ‘Platonic’, and invokes the terms of his earlier reading of Blake:

*—‘symbols, associated with ideas that are more than fragments of the shadows thrown upon the intellect by the emotions they evoke, are the playthings of the allegorist or the pedant, and soon pass away.’ (50)

 

*—These two types of symbol correspond, then, to what Chadwick defines as the ‘personal’, and ‘transcendental’ aspects, respectively, of Symbolist poetry. (2-3) …

 

 

—In ‘The Symbolism of Poetry’, Yeats privileges the emotional or personal symbols, relegating transcendental, intellectual symbols to a secondary role as mere shadows generated by their emotional counterparts. (SCP, 46)

 

 

*—For Yeats, then,… —either through the familiarity of some form of atavistic association, or by its possession of ‘preordained energies’ (—?), poetry (… —‘sounds’, ‘colours’ and ‘forms’) is capable of invoking (—of ‘calling down’) ‘powers’, which are seen to lie outside, prior to, and beyond empirical experience. …

 

—These ‘powers’, in turn, are experienced as (apparently) precise emotional responses by the reader, which however, apparently paradoxically, for Yeats, remain ‘indefinable’. …

 

—For Yeats, poetry is concerned not with the world of quotidian experience, but with a quasi-mystical invocation of ‘invisible essence[s]’ and ‘disembodied powers’. …

 

This accounts for what Chadwick defines as the necessary allusiveness and evasion of Symbolism (that is,—what he succinctly and punctually dubs its ‘built in obscurity’. …) —

 

[Symbolism is the] art of expressing ideas and emotions not by describing them directly, nor by defining them through overt comparisons with concrete images, but by suggesting what these ideas and emotions are, by recreating them in the mind of the reader through the use of unexplained symbols. (2-3)

 

Poetry, for a ‘transcendental’ Symbolist, must aim, then, to express an (—the) ‘ideal world’, and to recreate the poet’s (quasi-mystical?) experience of it (—the ‘ideas’ and emotions’ this experience gives rise to) in the mind of the reader and, as such, supersedes religion as the means of attaining the ‘ideal world’. (Ibid.)

*(—Cf. Margaret Mils Harper,—‘Yeats and the Occult’, in Marjorie Howes and John Kelly, eds., The Cambridge Companion to W.B. Yeats [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006], 144-166 [—144]. …). …

 

 

*—I want to argue here that, through his *rejection of ‘symbolism’ and ‘of idealism’, Stephen is alluding to the (implicit) Platonic metaphysics at stake in Yeats’s conception of transcendental Symbolism. …

 

 

In particular, it forms an allusion to Plato’s conception of the two ‘Orders of Reality’, as outlined in The Republic. *(—I’ll refer here to H.D.P. Lee’s translation [—Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1955]. … ). …

 

… —Its extreme brevity indicates that Stephen’s allusion to Platonic metaphysics is a rhetorical move, designed (I’d argue) to render Yeats’s ‘Platonism’ and transcendental Symbolism a foil for the exposition of his own aesthetic theory, and it’s true that it thus remains at the level of a caricature. …

 

Nevertheless,—it’s worth pausing briefly in order to summarise Plato’s conception of the relationship of the Forms (—Ideas) to quotidian experience, in order to demonstrate its pertinence to an understanding of (what I’m going to call here) Yeats’s *aesthetic metaphysics,… and to clarify what is at stake in Stephen’s (implicit) rejection of Yeats and of transcendental Symbolism (—and thus his relationship to Platonism) in his definition of the ‘esthetic image’. …

 

 

*So. …

 

… —Plato’s Socrates distinguishes between the world of the everyday experience of visible and sensible things—of becoming and change—and the unchangeable, eternal world of the ‘Forms’ or ‘Ideas’. …

*(—Though contemporary criticism of Plato prefers-privileges the term ‘Form’ over that of ‘Idea’ (—which suggests ‘things in our minds’…), I’ll retain the latter term here as that available to both Yeats and Joyce and in… deference to Stephen’s explicit rejection of ‘idealism’…). …

 

 

*—The quotidian world, then, is the shadow, or the—image of the world of Ideas, which contains the patterns—the ‘absolutes’ or ‘essential realities’—which the physical world imperfectly imitates. (Plato,—234) …

 

 

*—In his definition of the philosopher, Socrates defines the Ideas through a series of polar opposites:  beauty and ugliness, justice and injustice and good and evil…

 

*—The terms of each pair, he argues, constitute ‘a single thing in itself’.

 

However, each appears (—in-within-through the world of becoming and of change) only as a ‘multiplicity’,… —‘because it is seen in combination with actions and material objects and other characteristics.’ (238) …

 

He refers to the Ideas as ‘formal characteristics’. …

 

—They are the forms, then, (for Socrates) in which actions and objects only ever imperfectly participate

*(—On this,… see, in particular,—Allan Silverman, The Dialectic of Essence: A Study of Plato’s Metaphysics [Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2002],—16, and Penner, 242. …).

 

Nonetheless they have a real existence—independent of the mind. (—see Plato,—238)…

 

 

Absolute beauty, then, wouldn’t (could never) be identical with anything that is beautiful, but everything which is beautiful (nonetheless) *partakes of (—participates in) the ‘essential nature’ of beauty. (Ibid.) …

 

 

*—Socrates distinguishes between the ‘Intelligible’ world and the physical,—‘visible’ world, by defining a hierarchy *(—the ‘Divided Line’) between them. …

 

*—The ‘Intelligible’ world of the ‘Ideas’ is the world of knowledge. …

 

—He divides this into, on the one hand, the knowledge (—or ‘power’) of pure thought, which begins and ends with the Ideas as ‘first principles’, and, on the other, the knowledge of the ‘mathematical sciences’, which are subordinate to pure thought insofar as they ‘proceed from assumptions and not to first principles [Ideas]’ and must therefore be ‘reasoned out’,—in contrast to the Ideas which are directly perceived.

*(—See ‘§6. The Divided Line’,—274-278 *[—277]). …

 

 

For Plato’s Socrates,… —the physical, ‘visible’ world is the world of opinion,—as opposed to that of knowledge…

 

—It’s comprised of physical things which are the objects of belief and the ‘images’ of objects which are (themselves) the objects of illusion. …

*(—In defining the ‘images’, Socrates refers both to shadows and to the images of objects in reflective surfaces such as water and glass. …).

 

—The quotidian world remains one of only opinion or belief. It can never be known because the object of knowledge is the world of the Ideas. (276)

 

 

*In order to represent our experience of objects Socrates uses the (now famous-infamous) simile of prisoners chained to the floor of a cave… *—

 

Imagine an underground chamber, like a cave with an entrance open to the daylight and running a long way underground. In this chamber are men who have been prisoners there since they were children, their legs and necks being so fastened that they can only look straight ahead of them and cannot turn their heads. Behind them and above them is a fire burning, and between the fire and the prisoners runs a road, in front of which a curtain-wall has been built, like the screen at puppet shows between the operators and their audience, above which they show their puppets. (‘§7.The Simile of the Cave,’ 278-286 [—278-279])

 

*—For Socrates, we are the ‘prisoners’, then, of the constitution of our senses. …

 

That is,… —We don’t (—we can’t) know objects as they exist in themselves, but only their projected ‘shadows’ or ‘images’. …

 

 

Because our senses are ‘fastened’ and our experience is, therefore, limited to the ‘shadows’, we’re subject (—damned, in effect) to a form of *naïve realism, in which we take the objects of our experience to be things-in-themselves. …

 

This, for Socrates, is the nature of the world of ‘belief’ and ‘illusion’ *(—the illusion that we truly do know things as they are in themselves…). *(279.—Cf. 274) …

 

 

*He represents the role of the philosopher in the figure of a man who is first somehow liberated from his captivity and allowed to see the objects whose shadows are projected onto the wall by the artificial light of the fire at the rear of the cave, and who, next, manages (somehow) to step outside even the bounds of the cave itself,—out into daylight and the natural light of the Sun *(—and thus ascends through the Platonic-Socratic hierarchy from the ‘visible’ to the ‘Intelligible’ world), and is thus enabled finally to see things as they are in themselves. (281-282) …

 

*For Socrates, then,… —*‘the mind as a whole must be turned away from the world of change until it can bear to look straight at reality’. *(—283.—Emphases added here. … —See also 284).

 

 

*—Implicit in Socrates’ distinction is a seeming imperative—to privilege the eternal, intelligible world of the Ideas and (equally) to *renounce (to have renounced) the ‘visible’ (—quotidian) world. …

 

 

*Yeats’s definition of the ‘symbol’, then,… —as ‘the only possible expression of some invisible essence, a transparent lamp about a spiritual flame’, in stark opposition to the ‘allegorical’ poet’s focus on the ‘embodied thing’, in effect, represents an adoption or appropriation both of Platonic metaphysics’ distinction between the degrees of truth in the conception of the object, and (more importantly for my current purposes) its imperative toward the renunciation of the quotidian world (—of objects and their ‘shadows’), in favour of the eternal forms of the ‘Ideas’. …

*(… *—Bornstein argues that Yeats ‘found support’ for his ‘drive from the actual to the ideal world’ and ‘habit of seeing mutable things as types of immutable beauty’ in the ‘psychological theories accompanying Plato’s doctrine of the forms’. (—Yeats and Shelley,—69). …

 

 

*—And I’d argue that what Stephen overtly rejects in his dismissal of ‘symbolism’ and of ‘idealism’ is precisely the… life-renouncing mysticism at stake within this poetical Platonic metaphysics. …

*(… —In his discussion of the fin de siècle Irish literary scene in ‘A Symbolic Artist and the Coming of Symbolic Art’ (1898), Yeats himself renders this connection between his Symbolist aesthetic and mysticism explicit… —

‘When I have written of literature in Ireland, I have had to write again and again about a company of Irish mystics, who have taught for some years a religious philosophy which has changed many ordinary people into ecstatics and visionaries’. (—SCP, 33-42, [33].—emphasis added),… —identifying the poet A.E. (—George Russell), along with Althea Gyles, as being at the centre of this movement… —‘a beginning of what may become a new manner in the arts of the modern world’ (34),—‘creating a new religion and poetry’. (37) …

 

hmm. …

 

… —In his early criticism, Yeats builds his definition of transcendental Symbolism and the revival and cultural-political role of (Irish) literary art on the foundation of this new ecstatic, visionary, mystic religion and poetry. *(—see Harper, ‘Yeats and the Occult’, The Cambridge Companion to W.B. Yeats,—144-166.)… ).

 

 

*—Stephen dismisses Yeats’s ‘Platonic’ assumption (—‘symbolism or idealism’) of an other-worldly ideal, of which sensible experience (—‘matter’) is (merely—solely) a ‘shadow’ or ‘symbol,’ as a fantastical artificial prosthesis to experience … —a purely ‘literary’ construct, to which he opposes that which is ‘logically and esthetically’ necessary *(—the ‘proper conditions’ of the ‘esthetic image’. …). …

 

 

*And what accounts, I’d argue, for the far greater length and detail of Stephen’s (implicit) opposition of the ‘esthetic image’ to Yeatsian—late-Romantic—transcendental Symbolism in this passage of Portrait (—when held in direct comparison with the counterpart passage-extract, pinpointing the moment of the object’s ‘epiphany’ in-of Stephen Hero. *—see [‘evolution’.—link…]), is that this passage in fact incorporates and refines the terms of the opposition between the ‘classical’ and ‘romantic’ artistic ‘tempers’ and the privileging of the ‘classical’ in the ‘Art and Life’ paper and associated material in Stephen Hero into the concept of the ‘epiphany’ itself. …

 

 

*—To draw out what seems to me is at stake in this incorporation will allow me to align Stephen’s aesthetic with the opposition of ‘classicism’ to ‘romanticism’ in the works of  both Nietzsche and T.E. Hulme (and by extension with the neo-classical Modernist aesthetic manifesto of the Imagist poets, in particular with the doctrine of the ‘image’). This will serve to locate Stephen’s ‘classicism’ within a wider context of late nineteenth and early twentieth century philosophical and artistic reactions against late-Romanticism.

*(

*—towards a brief history of Imagism, then
*(on the ‘image’ as a kind of ‘Modernist’ nexus. …) …

 

—Imagism is, essentially, associated with the work of Ezra Pound, Hilda Doolittle (H.D.), John Gould Fletcher, Amy Lowell, Richard Aldington, F.S. Flint, and D.H. Lawrence, between 1912 and 1917. …

 

Its origins extend back to two poetry clubs founded by T.E. Hulme: the first,—‘the Poet’s club’, formed in 1908; the latter, unnamed, formed with F.S. Flint in March 1909.

*(—See Peter Jones, ed., Imagist Poetry [London: Penguin, 1972], 13-43 [13-16] and Stanley K. Coffman, Jr. Imagism: A Chapter for the History of Modern Poetry [Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1951],—3-7).

 

Pound first dubbed Aldington and H.D. Imagistes in spring-summer, 1912 (—see Jones, ed. Imagist Poetry, 17), and claimed that ‘The first use of the word “Imagiste” was in my note to T.E. Hulme’s five poems, printed at the end of my “Ripostes” in the autumn of 1912’. (‘A Retrospect’, in Pavannes and Divisions [New York: Alfred A. Knopff, 1918], 93-111 [96]. … *—See Canzoni; & Ripostes of Ezra Pound [London: Elkin Matthews, 1913],—*59, where Pound refers to ‘the “School of Images”’, and to ‘Les Imagistes’…).

 

In Poetry (March 1913), Pound and Flint published ‘Imagisme’, a brief article, supplemented by Pound’s ‘A Few Don’ts by an Imagiste’. Both pieces were intended to define the principles of the movement (Jones, ed., Imagist Poetry, 129-134. Coffman, Jr., Imagism, 9-10).

 

In February 1914, under Pound’s direction, the movement published its first anthology, Des Imagistes, including poems by Joyce, Skipworth Cannell, Ford Madox Hueffer (Ford Madox Ford), Allen Upward, and John Cournos.

 

At this time, spurred by both his involvement in Wyndham Lewis’s Vorticism and by growing friction between himself and Lowell, Pound distanced himself from the Imagists (—Coffman, Jr., Imagism, 21-25).

 

Lowell assumed responsibility for the movement and the publication of a further three anthologies, in 1915, 1916 and 1917, under the title of Some Imagist Poets, including poems by John Gould Fletcher and D.H. Lawrence.

 

The anthology of 1917 was the last for the movement whilst all its participants were still alive. Lowell wrote…

—‘The collection has done its work. These three little books are the germs, the nucleus, of the school; its spreading out, its amplifications, must be sought in the unpublished work of the individual members of the group’.

*(—Lowell, Tendencies in Modern American Poetry [New York: Macmillan, 1917], 255. —See Jones, ed., Imagist Poetry, 24).

 

However, a further anthology, Imagist Anthology 1930, organised by Aldington, appeared, including poems by Joyce, Aldington, H.D., John Gould Fletcher, Ford Madox Ford, William Carlos Williams, and D.H. Lawrence. Lowell had passed away in May 1925 and Skipworth Cannell couldn’t be located *(See—Richard Aldington, Life for Life’s Sake [London: Cassell & Co., 1968], 130-131. Jones, ed., Imagist Poetry, 27).

 

 

I won’t be making the claim (in case you were genuinely concerned,… —ne’er fear, dear reader o’mine…) that Joyce himself was an: ‘Imagiste’. …

 

In ‘“Dubliners” and Mr James Joyce’, in terms which (by no mean coincidence) will become crucial in my later discussion of Joyce and Hulme, Pound praised Joyce for qualities which he had (ostensibly) attached to ‘Imagisme’ (Imagism), and to the ‘image’: …  *—‘Mr Joyce writes a clear hard prose. He deals with subjective things, but he presents them with such clarity of outline’ (—Pavannes and Divisions, 156-160 [156].—my emph.s), linking ol’ Jimmy J. to what he refers to as the ‘school’ (sic) of ‘impressionist writers’, including Stendhal and Flaubert,—*‘intent on exact presentation […—] intensity, selection, and concentration’… (157. Again, my emph. And the interested reader is also politely advised to consult ‘James Joyce, At Last the Novel Appears’ and ‘Paris Letter, May 1922, Ulysses’ (Pound, Early Writings: Poems and Prose, Edited with an Introduction and Notes by Ira B. Nadel [London: Penguin, 2005),—330-333 and 334-341, respectively. …).

 

 

However,…

 

*… —Joyce’s inclusion in Des Imagistes seems, to me (at least), to have stemmed in the main from the patronage he received from Pound, and from a desire to be published and have his work reach the largest audience possible. …

 

—‘I hear an Army’ was originally published in Chamber Music (XXXVI) in 1907. Its inclusion in an anthology seven years later, then, marks an attempt, perhaps, simply to extend its reception. (—Jones, ed., Imagist Poetry, 83).

 

—Instead, then…

 

I want to focus on Imagism, and, far more specifically, the concept of the ‘image’ as a kind of *nexus for the aesthetic and philosophical concerns (and early artistic projects) of a number of significant artists who defined themselves as, or (at the very least) tactically aligned themselves with, (self-styled) neo-classical ‘Moderns’ or Modernists. …

 

 

—I’m concerned to draw a parallel between Stephen’s interpretation of Aquinas and rejection of Symbolism and ‘romanticism’ with Imagism.

 

—This has already been pursued, to some extent, by A. Walton Litz…

 

—Litz refers Joyce’s having published with the Imagists in Des Imagistes, but goes on to provide a definition of the ‘image’ (—with a brief reference to Portrait) which allows him to define the entire texts of both Ulysses and Finnegans Wake as themselves constituting ‘images’. *(—The Art of James Joyce: Method and Design in Ulysses and Finnegans Wake [London: Oxford University Press, 1961], 53-62)

 

—By-in contrast,… —avoiding Litz’s somewhat questionable adoption-appropriation of the concept of the ‘image’ (—?),… —I’ll focus solely on the parallel between Stephen’s explication of the ‘esthetic image’ and the principles of Imagism). …

 

*—on the Dionysian sublime & (/as) the ‘purgation’ of lived experience…

*(… —follows on from *the artist’s metaphysics & —on “incorporation”, & the Apollinian sublime. …).

*—on ‘purgation’, & the Dionysian sublime. …


For the rapture of the Dionysian state with its annihilation of the ordinary bounds and limits of existence contains, while it lasts, a lethargic element, in which all personal experiences of the past become immersed. (BT, §7, 59)

 

*. —The key, then, to truly understanding the Dionysian—as a mode of the sublime—here, lies in the two crucial elements of the ‘rapture’, and the ‘lethargic’ (—‘lethargy’. …). …

 

*These elements, much like the Apollinian and Dionysian themselves, I suppose, are interdependent.

*That is,… —the purging of ‘personal experiences’ is reliant upon, and grounded in, the ‘annihilation of the ordinary bounds and limits of experience’ that the ‘rapture’ in-of the Dionysian represents.

And—in turn—the ‘rapture’ in-of the Dionysian has this *lethargic purgation as its goal,… —as its boon. …

 

*Nietzsche’s conception of ‘lethargy’ here, then, derives from a notion of forgetting, which is associated with, or to, the river Lethe,… *—the ‘waters of oblivion’. …

 

*—In his discussion of the legacy of Heidegger’s critique of Nietzsche, and of Nietzsche’s own relation of his philosophy to that of Plato in Crossings: Nietzsche and the Space of Tragedy, John Sallis argues for the identification of Dionysus with Hades (—the Greek underworld), and attributes the ‘lethargic element’ here to Plato’s reproduction of the ‘story of Er’s descent into Hades’, which locates the river Lethe itself in Hades.[1]

 

*—By contrast (—contra Sallis, then, in effect…),—I’d argue that Nietzsche’s allusion here is to Dantean cosmology, which locates the river Lethe on Mount Purgatory *(—Purgatory (Il Purgatorio), the second ‘Cantica’ of The [Divine] Comedy), rather than to the Platonic. … —

 Into the stream she’d drawn me in my faint,

Throat-high, and now, towing me after her,

Light as a shuttle o’er the water went.

Asperges me” *[—‘thou shalt purge me’] I heard, as I drew near

The blissful brink, so sweetly as to drown

Power to recall, far more to write it here.

She stretched both hands, she seized me by the crown,

Did that fair lady, and she plunged me in,

So that I needs must drink the water down;

Then drew me forth and led me, washed and clean [—…][2]

 

*—This latter, Dantean, source is a far better fit, it seems to me, with the (obvious) positive pathos of Nietzsche’s use of the term ‘lethargic’, and of forgetting, in the context of the Dionysian.

*(and I want to return to the relationship between the Lethe, as purgative, and the Eunoe as restorative, of memory (respectively) in my discussion of the relationship between the Apollinian and the Dionysian, (—in due course *(—a place for everything…)…).

 

*—The ‘blissful’ drowning of the ‘[p]ower to recall’ that leaves Dante *(—the pilgrim) ‘washed and clean’, is preceded, and rendered necessary, by what Dorothy L. Sayers, in her notes, refers to as a ‘violent psychological disturbance’, and which Dante the poet describes as a blending of ‘[t]error and shame’ at the memories of his infidelities to Beatrice. (319) …

 

*And it’s this guilt which is purged in his immersion in the waters of the Lethe. (l.13, 315)

 

*—Purgation, then,—‘lethargy’—is precipitated by, and is inextricably bound to, a destructive moment of psychic suffering. …

 

*Following his citation of Schopenhauer’s metaphor of the sailor in the frail bark to define the Apollinian, Nietzsche appropriates and qualifies the conjunction of suffering and bliss in Schopenhauer’s conception of the sublime in The World as Will and Representation, in order to define the Dionysian…

*—‘Schopenhauer has defined for us the tremendous terror which seizes man when he is suddenly dumbfounded by the cognitive form of phenomena because the principle of sufficient reason, in some one of its manifestations, seems to suffer an exception.’ (BT, §1, 36.)

 

—In order to understand what’s at stake in Nietzsche’s account of the Dionysian sublime, I think it’s necessary here to… pause,—in order to offer a definition of Schopenhauer’s conception of the principle of sufficient reason and its undoing in the experience of the sublime in his aesthetics…

 

*Schopenhauer defines the principle of sufficient reason in its broadest and simplest terms through the formula: ‘Nothing is without a reason why it is.’[3]

 

As I argued in the first chapter-string-thread of fragments here *(—on ‘Intuition, Flux and Anti-metaphysics’…), Schopenhauer follows Kant’s argument in the ‘Transcendental Aesthetic’ that space and time are pure forms of intuition, constituting the condition of the possibility of experience.—They constitute the forms of perceived objects: —our representations. …

 

*—In On the Fourfold Root, Schopenhauer argues that all our representations can be seen to ‘stand to one another in a natural and regular connexion that in form is determinable A PRIORI. By virtue of this connexion nothing existing by itself and independent, and also nothing single and detached, can become an object for us.’ (§16, 42) …

 

—For Schopenhauer, just as space and time are the a priori condition of the possibility of experience, understood as the necessary division of the world into the discrete quanta of individuated objects, so there must exist a principle which explains the connection that necessarily exists between these objects.

 

—No object of experience can stand alone but must have a necessary connection to all other objects of experience and ‘[i]t is this connexion which is expressed by the principle of sufficient reason in its universality.’ (Ibid.)

 

The ‘root’ of the principle is fourfold: …

—‘The principle divides explanations of occurrence in the world as representation into four types of lawlike generalizations, including all logical, mathematical, causal and moral motivational phenomena.’[4]

 

—Logical laws ‘satisfy the sufficient reason of knowing.’ (Schopenhauer, FFR, §49, 226.—See Jacquette, 44)…

That is,—they explain the truth of any proposition through empirical truth: that is—of direct experience, the transcendental truth of the necessary presupposition of the a priori (—time and space), the logical truth: that the proposition must follow from the truth of another proposition or from the material truth of true empirical statement, and the metalogical truth of the law of logic: —the laws of identity, contradiction, the law of the excluded middle and correspondence theory. *(—See Magee, 31).

 

‘Physical’ (or causal) laws state that the coming into being and passing away of objects of experience and their interrelations is determined by sequences of causally interconnected events, which, in their entirety, constitute the history of the natural world. (§49, 227.—See Magee, 30)

—Dale Jacquette argues that, for Schopenhauer, these laws can therefore be said to ‘satisfy the sufficient reason of becoming’: they explain the causal reasons for the object’s coming into being and passing away. (Jacquette, 44)

 

Mathematical laws cover the framework of the sufficient reason of being of space and time (the pure forms of intuition) and form the basis of geometry and arithmetic.[5]

 

Moral laws satisfy the sufficient reason of acting and concern ‘the empirical or will to life and its motivations’. (Jacquette, 44)—They represent causes ‘experienced from within’. (Magee, 30) …

 

*For Nietzsche, following Schopenhauer, when a phenomenon appears to occupy a space too vast to comprehend, such as a vast stretch of desert or ocean; or evokes a feeling of eternity, such as is the case with ancient ruins,—the phenomenon then appears to exceed the bounds of space, time, and causality, and the principle of sufficient reason thus suffers an exception. …

 

*—This exception takes place, then,—in the exaltation of the sublime. …

 

*Schopenhauer’s conception of the sublime develops from an engagement with the tradition, emerging in, and from the eighteenth century, of aesthetic theories of the contrast between the sublime and the beautiful, and, in particular, that of Kant, in the Critique of the Power of Judgment.

 

—Schopenhauer’s aesthetic is grounded in his appropriation of philosophical concepts from the philosophies of both Kant and Plato. …

 

*—The third book of The World as Will and Representation is dedicated to his analysis of the Platonic Idea as the object of art. …

 

—In particular, he appropriates, and attempts to… marry, the Kantian ‘thing-in-itself’ and the Platonic ‘Idea’. …

—‘we find […] those two great and obscure paradoxes of the two greatest philosophers of the West—to be, not exactly identical, but yet very closely related, and distinguished by only a single modification.’ (WWR, I, §31, 170) …

 

*As I argued in the first string-thread, as far as Schopenhauer is concerned, the ‘will’ (the—Will) is the thing-in-itself. …

 

—Following Kant, he argues that time, space and causality *(—the principle of sufficient reason), are the forms of our knowledge, which is knowledge only of the phenomenal realm, constituted by ‘plurality and all arising and passing away,’ to which the thing-in-itself (—the Will) is not subject. (171) …

 

Schopenhauer uses his refutation of Kant’s claim to the objectivity of the thing-in-itself to draw a distinction (—his ‘modification’…) between the thing-in-itself and the Idea. …

 

—He argues that, for Plato, the phenomenal realm represents the realm of becoming.

 

*… —The objects of the phenomenal realm are only the imperfect shadow copies of ‘the real archetypes’ of the Ideas, which ‘always are but never become and never pass away’ and are thus not subject to time, space and causality. (Ibid.)

 

Schopenhauer argues that, for Plato, The Idea is nevertheless ‘necessarily object’,—‘something known, a representation’, and not the thing-in-itself. (Ibid.) …

 

*—The Platonic Idea, then,—as Schopenhauer appropriates and deploys the term-concept—represents the level, or grade, of the will’s most immediate objectivity.

 

—It’s not subject to the principle of sufficient reason, and is, therefore, independent of the ‘subordinate forms of the phenomenon’. (175) …

 

However,—‘it has retained the first and most universal form, namely that of representation in general’,—‘that of being object for a subject.’ (Ibid.) …

 

*—The phenomenon, for Schopenhauer, can only ever constitute the indirect objectification of the will. …

 

*… —(in-)between the phenomenon and the will, then, stands the Idea,… —‘as the only direct objectivity of the will.’ (Ibid.) …

 

*The Idea—under the aegis of Schopenhauer’s self-styled Kantian-Platonic conjunction—represents ‘the most adequate objectivity possible of the will or of the thing-in-itself; indeed it is even the whole thing-in-itself, only under the form of the representation’, of which the spatiotemporal representations (according to the principle of sufficient reason) are only so many plural copies,—‘multiplying the Idea in particular and fleeting individuals’. (175)[6]

 

*Schopenhauer argues that it’s possible to be raised from knowledge of particular things to knowledge of the Ideas through a change in the subject’s apprehension of the object: —from its imperfect extension in(to) space and time, to its timeless Idea. …

 

In order to attain to knowledge of the Ideas, the elevation of the object,—from (mere) representation to the Idea, must be accompanied (—must be matched) by a corresponding elevation of the subject,—above (mere)—individuality. (§33, 176) …

 

—And this,—elevation, consists, for Schopenhauer, in the tearing free of knowledge from service to the striving, suffering and interestedness of the will…

—‘we no longer consider the where, the when, the why and whither in things, but simply and solely the what.’ (§34, 178)

 

*And this elevation occurs (according to Schopenhauer) in—*aesthetic contemplation. …

 

*—In aesthetic contemplation, then,… —just as the object is no longer the particular, individuated spatio-temporal object, but (instead)—the ‘eternal form’ of the Idea,—the subject is no longer an individual, and ‘[w]e lose ourselves entirely in this object’. …

 

*—The subject becomes *the ‘pure will-less, painless, timeless subject of knowledge.’ (-179) …

 

For Schopenhauer, the type of knowledge (so to) which continues to exist outside and independent of phenomenal objectivity and individual subjectivity is *‘art

*(—‘the work of genius’. …) (—§36, 184) …

 

—Art ‘repeats’ the Idea, apprehended through pure contemplation.[7]

 

—And this ‘repetition’, for Schopenhauer, is accomplished through—*the beautiful and the sublime. …

 

*Schopenhauer argues that ‘pleasure’ in the beautiful arises from the coincidence of the Idea and its ‘correlative’, the pure will-less subject of knowing. (§38, 195-196.—Cf. §39, 200-201)

 

—The beautiful, for Schopenhauer (at least), constitutes, then, a ‘delight’ in the ‘pure perception’ of objects…

 

For Schopenhauer, the sublime differs from the beautiful not in kind, but by degree

 

—Through it too we are raised elevated to the level of the pure, will-less subject of knowing. (§38, 199)

 

However,… —our subjective relations (that is,—the objective manifestation of the human subject: —the body) to the ‘significant forms’ of sublime objects are radically different…

 

Sublime objects—in contrast to the beautiful, in which we are disinterested—stand in a stark opposition to the subject, and, indeed, ‘may threaten it by their might that eliminates all resistance, or their immeasurable greatness may reduce it to nought’. (201)

 

—For Schopenhauer this ‘might’,… ‘greatness’,… this… —excess,… engenders the temporary cessation of subjectivity—of the subject—who, although perceiving the obvious threat to his own bodily form (and the gender bias is Schopenhauer’s own here) posed by the objects of the sublime, is nonetheless able to ‘tear himself from his will and its relations’. …

 

—The subject is (seemingly paradoxically) elevated above subjectivity, and is ‘filled with the feeling of the sublime’,…

 

*… —‘he is in the state of exaltation’ (Ibid.—emphases added…)

 

* … For Schopenhauer, the beautiful is universal: —experienced by every subject (as an elevation beyond subjectivity) in the same way.

 

—A beautiful object is universally beautiful.—It elevates us to the state of aesthetic contemplation and the ‘will-free subject of knowing’.

 

Sublime ‘exaltation’—by contrast—is attained via the struggle of an act of will against willing…

[W]ith the sublime, that state of pure knowing is obtained first of all by a conscious and violent tearing away from the relations of the same object [as that of the beautiful] to the will which are recognised as unfavourable, by a free exaltation accompanied by consciousness, beyond the will and the knowledge related to it.[8]

—The ‘willing’ here is no longer simply that of the subject, but of ‘humanity’ (in general)…

 

It’s this which affects the ‘conscious and violent’ tearing of the will from its moorings in its mediated relations to the object, and elevates it to a direct knowledge of the Idea. …

 

—The sublime, for Schopenhauer, then, represents, in effect, an *emancipation from subjectivity and from willing.

 

*Schopenhauer identifies four degrees of the sublime, which he binds to the transition from the beautiful to the sublime, according to its relative force. (—Cf. 203-205) …

 

—The first represents the ‘faintest trace of the sublime in the beautiful’. (203) …

 

—It constitutes the ‘profound peace’ induced by the absence of stimuli which are ‘favourable or unfavourable’ to the will.

 

—Schopenhauer equates it with the geographical phenomenon of a ‘lonely region of boundless horizons, under a perfectly cloudless sky’. (Ibid.) …

 

—The subject’s response to the profound solitude and silence of such scenes drives them to a ‘contemplation’ which elevates them above the concerns of the will.

 

When any trace of organic life or conditions for the subject’s maintained sustenance are removed from this hypothetical vista, the feeling of the sublime is correspondingly heightened to, what Schopenhauer calls, a ‘tragic’ degree.

 

—The emancipation from the will is imbued with ‘a fearful character.’ (204.—emphasis added) …

 

As the excess of force, the scale of the objects, and the associated threat to the will increase, so too the feeling of the sublime itself is heightened. …

 

—The ‘struggle with hostile nature’ becomes visible to the subject,—through the image of their own broken will, in the contemplation of ‘turbulent and tempestuous motion; semi-darkness through threatening black thunder-clouds; immense bare, overhanging cliffs shutting out the view by their interlacing; rushing, foaming masses of water; complete desert [and] the wail of wind sweeping through the ravines’.  (Ibid.) …

 

As long as this ‘personal affliction’ doesn’t overwhelm them, they remain the pure subject of will-less knowledge.

 

The sublime consists here, then, in the stark contrast of the violent motion of the object to the passivity of the subject.

 

—And this contrast brings the sublime to its highest pitch. …

 

All the more radical then is the passivity of the ‘unmoved beholder’ of such spectacles, which in turn serves to… illuminate  *thetwofold nature of consciousness’. …

[H]e feels himself as individual, as the feeble phenomenon of will, which the slightest touch of these forces can annihilate, helpless against powerful nature, dependent, abandoned to chance, a vanishing nothing in the face of stupendous forces; and he also feels himself as the eternal, serene subject of knowing [….] This is the full impression of the sublime. (204-205)

 

Schopenhauer dubs the ‘ability’ of forces and objects to negate subjectivity and emancipate the subject from willing,—‘the dynamically sublime’, adopting the term from Kant. (205)[9]

 

By contrast,—he posits the ability to imagine magnitudes in space and time whose vastness also reduces the subject to nothing, which, again adopting Kantian terminology, he dubs the ‘mathematically sublime’.[10]

 

*In Birth, Nietzsche effectively adopts all of the key terms of Schopenhauer’s account of the sublime… —the inciting of terror and the cessation of subjectivity in the exception to the principle of sufficient reason,—as his starting point in his own account of the Dionysian. …

 

However, he offers a substantial qualification. … —

if we add to this terror the blissful ecstasy that wells from the innermost depths of man, indeed of nature, at this collapse of the principium individuationis, we steal a glimpse into the nature of the Dionysian, which is brought home to us most intimately by the analogy of intoxication. (§1, 36)

 

—Space, time and causality, as the forms of cognition forming the condition of the possibility of experience, give rise to, and are the ground of, the principle of individuation. …

 

—When these forms suffer exception, the *(—Apollinian) principium individuationis collapses. …

 

*… —The individual is lost to the pre-individuated ‘primal unity’. …

 

—And this collapse (of individuation) is a source of terror. …

 

However,… conjoined to this terror is a feeling of, what Nietzsche terms,—‘blissful ecstasy’. …

 

—This arises from the release of the drives and emotions repressed within-by the Apollinian drive to individuation. …

 

*That is,—there’s an element of ineluctable and irreducible violence and ‘terror’ within the Dionysian sublime, which stands as the very condition of the possibility of the feeling of ‘blissful ecstasy’…

 

—This apparent contradiction can be most clearly comprehended, Nietzsche argues, through the analogous physiological phenomenon of ‘intoxication’. …

 

—The over-stimulation of the senses, the loss of self-consciousness, and the frenzy associated with the phenomenon of intoxication, Nietzsche argues, find their analogous artistic counterpart in the Dionysian sublime. …

 

—The Dionysian sublime offers (—represents a mode of) access to the pre-individuated,—pre-Apollinian ‘primal unity’ through the laceration of the individual.

 

The ‘primal unity’ here is understood as the chaotic flux of natural drives preceding, and as the ground of, all individuation, comparable to Bergson’s later definition of the undivided continuity of ‘states’ in the flux of duration.

 

*—Understood in this way, the Dionysian sublime anticipates Nietzsche’s definition of ‘intuition’ in ‘On Truth’ (—echoed in Bergson’s philosophy). …

 

… —In the same way that, for both Nietzsche and Bergson, intuition serves to rend the stale, stultified surface (skin-film) of the concepts of the intellect, in order then to descend into the underlying flux and to return with new metaphors, so the Dionysian sublime, in Birth, represents the laceration of the forms of Apollinian individuation and a descent into the apparently paradoxical ‘bliss’ of the undivided continuity of the flux of natural drives of the ‘primal unity’.

(—and I’d argue that it’s this laceration of the concepts of the intellect and descent into the flux of experience in order to create new ‘unheard-of’ hybrid metaphors in ‘On Truth’ that is ultimately at stake in Kemp Winfree’s argument, (with which I wholeheartedly agree, by-the-by),—that ‘On Truth’ ‘repeats the question of the Dionysian’…).[11]

 

*Whilst Nietzsche here ostensibly appropriates the key terms of Schopenhauer’s definition of the sublime, this appropriation, then, is, nonetheless, ironic. …

 

*As I argued in the first chapter-string-thread *(—see:the will to power),—the ‘primal unity’ remains closer to Nietzsche’s own later formulation of ‘the will to power’,—understood as naming the differential element within the hierarchy of sub-wills from which the individuated ‘thing’ is sculpted, than it does to the metaphysical unity  at stake in the Schopenhauerian ‘will’. …

 

*—Both the Dionysian sublime and the ‘primal unity’, then, I want to argue here, represent *—the beginning of Nietzsche’s attempt to redeem Schopenhauer’s aesthetics from his metaphysics. …

 

As Claudia Crawford has demonstrated, the ‘primal unity’ in Nietzsche’s early writing remains firmly on the side of representation, and can’t be identified with the thing-in-itself. (—Crawford, Beginnings, 161-162[n])

 

Nor can it be identified with the timeless, ‘real archetype’ of the Platonic Idea, specifically in its appropriation by Schopenhauer as the most immediate objective manifestation of the ‘will’. …

 

*—Nietzsche’s concept is fundamentally anti-metaphysical. …

 

—Whereas, for Schopenhauer, the sublime engenders a sudden leap of the subject beyond individual subjectivity, and its transformation into the pure will-less subject of knowing, with a corresponding consciousness of its object shorn of its individual, phenomenal predicates, revealing the Idea,… *for Nietzsche, the Dionysian sublime reveals the undivided continuity of the flux of natural drives repressed and veiled beneath the artistic veneer of (Apollinian) individuation.  …

 

*… —‘Essence’ (so to) remains here, but in the form clarified by Deleuze’s analysis of the will to power, as that ‘one among all the senses of a thing, which gives it the force with which it has most affinity.’ *(—Deleuze, Nietzsche and Philosophy, 4) …

 

*—The ‘primal unity’ and the Dionysian sublime, then, represent Nietzsche’s first provisional formulation of an ironic Platonic—anti-Platonist aesthetic.[12]

 

*—. The Dionysian represents the harnessing of natural drive to the purgation of lived experience into the pre-existing artistic forms of music and dance. …

 

—Just as the Apollinian, the Dionysian represents the transformation of nature through culture.

 

The conjunction of ‘terror’ and ‘blissful ecstasy’, constitute the Dionysian as a mode of the sublime: —the revelling in the excess over which the Apollinian sublime had been seen to triumph (—in the guise of the ‘Homeric hero’), and which now again collapses the Apollinian and the principle of individuation. …

 

The Apollinian was engendered by a necessity—the ‘longing’ on the part of the ‘primal unity’ for redemption through illusion. …

 

Its dissolution is experienced with ‘joy’ by the same ‘innermost depths of man, indeed of nature’ which, indeed, engendered it. (—Cf. 36)…

 

For Nietzsche, in order to be able to elicit this ‘joy’, the release from the delimitation and restraints of the Apollinian must, therefore, represent an equal and opposite natural, psycho-physiological necessity.

*—The ‘Dionysian emotions awake, and as they grow in intensity everything subjective vanishes into self-forgetfulness.’ (Ibid.) …

 

—The ‘growth’ of the Dionysian emotions is comparable to the process of the evolution of Apollinian ‘order’ from the ‘titanic’. *(—see *on ‘incorporation’, & the Apollinian sublime’. …)

—These emotions are awakened by the need of the ‘primal unity’.

The Apollinian can only veil or repress them,… —it can never, fully, extinguish them…

 

*—Their repression causes frustration and a tension, which grow in intensity until the Apollinian is no longer able to restrain them, and they ‘burst forth’ and are purged in the ‘self-forgetfulness’ of the Dionysian state. (§2, 39) …

 

Nietzsche argues that in the Dionysian ‘the union between man and man’, which was severed in the Apollinian process of individuation, is ‘reaffirmed’.

 

Nature,— rendered ‘alienated’ and ‘hostile’ through the interposition of the restraint and delimitation of the Apollinian,—‘celebrates once more her reconciliation with her lost son, man.’ (Ibid.) …

—The ‘rigid, hostile barriers that necessity, caprice, or “impudent convention” have fixed between man and man are broken’ and give way to ‘universal harmony,’ a state in which all individuals feel ‘as one’.[13]

 

Nietzsche argues that this unity within a ‘higher community’ (that is,—one no longer simply composed of individuals) was expressed by the Hellene through song and dance.

 

And he contrasts these with-to the plastic art forms of the Apollinian.

 

—Whereas the Apollinian Hellene only saw the gods,—‘walking in his dreams’, the Dionysian Hellene, by contrast,—‘feels himself a god’. …

* … —‘He is no longer an artist’. …

*—‘he has [himself—] become a work of art’. (§1, 37. *—all emphases added here…) …

 

The Dionysian Hellene experienced existence and the ‘primal unity’ directly and intuitively,—without the need for the mediation of abstract concepts.

 

Nietzsche refers to the physicality of the Dionysian—spontaneous movement, sound, dancing,…—as the ‘paroxysms of intoxication’: —the unconscious and uninhibited physiological response to the ecstatic, in and through which ‘the artistic power of all nature reveals itself to the highest gratification of the primordial unity.’

 

This ‘gratification’ is higher than that afforded by Apollinian art because of its immediacy, power and direct expression through the spontaneous and unrestrained discharge of physical-emotional energies. (—Cf. 37)

 

Nietzsche contrasts the ‘Dionysian Greek’, with their necessary shattering of the fetters of individuation, to the ‘pre-Apollinian’ ‘Dionysian barbarian’. …

 

*—The barbaric Dionysian festivals, he argues, were marked by ‘extravagant sexual licentiousness’, and through-during them,—‘the most savage natural instincts were unleashed’. (§2, 39) …

 

In stark contrast to the Hellenic Dionysian, Nietzsche refers to the effect of these festivals as a ‘horrible mixture of sensuality and cruelty,’ as that ‘which has always seemed to me to be the real “witches’ brew.”’ (Ibid.)

 

—It was in response to the ‘terror and horror’ of this barbaric Dionysian state that the Apollinian was originally inaugurated as the remedy. …

 

Nietzsche alludes to the myth of Perseus and the Gorgon Medusa as the symbolic analogue of this triumph: …

*—‘the figure of Apollo, rising full of pride, held out the Gorgon’s head to this grotesquely uncouth Dionysian power’. (Ibid.) …

 

*—The Apollinian doesn’t destroy the Dionysian… —It merely petrifies it,… —freezing it and holding it in place… —like a statue. …

 

*However,… when Apollo’s interdependence with the ‘titanic’ forces, and with it the necessity of the Dionysian, was realised,—the ‘opposition between Apollo and Dionysus became more hazardous and even impossible’. …

 

*When the Dionysian ‘impulses finally burst forth from the deepest roots of the Hellenic nature’ Apollinian culture could no longer simply draw a veil over these drives and forces, with their equal and undeniable claim to necessary expression.

 

In response, Hellenic culture effected a compromise and a ‘reconciliation’, in which the ‘barbaric’ forces were divested of their ‘destructive weapons’. (§2, 39)…

 

Nietzsche argues that this ‘reconciliation’ of the Apollinian and the Dionysian represents *‘the most important moment in the history of the Greek cult’. …

 

*—a moment, in fact, of cultural revolution. …

—‘The two antagonists were reconciled; the boundary lines to be observed henceforth by each were sharply defined’. (Ibid.) …

 

This reconciliation and (apparent) mutual respect, however, were incapable of putting an end to the antagonism, but served to inaugurate a new era in culture, and a re-birth, in a new and more powerful form, of the Dionysian art impulse.

 

—In the bursting forth of the Dionysian the ‘destruction of the principium individuationis for the first time becomes an artistic phenomenon.’ (Ibid.)

*(—an ‘artisticphenomenon’. …).

 

For Nietzsche,—the Hellenic Dionysian represents the sublimation of the drive to the purgation of natural drives and forces (repressed within the Apollinian) into the pre-existing artistic forms of music and dance.

 

—If the Apollinian sublime appeared as the redemption of existence from the ‘titanic’, then the Dionysian, by contrast, appears as the equal and opposite redemption of those forces. …

 

—The Apollinian redeems existence from the ‘titanic’, but is nonetheless compelled (despite itself, and against its own interests, perhaps) to admit its interdependence with it. …

 

And it’s this admission which precipitates the Hellenic re-birth of the Dionysian.

 

Nietzsche identifies a contradiction at the heart of this purgative and redemptive re-birth of the Dionysian in ‘the curious blending and duality in the emotions of the Dionysian revellers.’

 

—For Nietzsche, this duality takes the form of ‘the phenomenon that pain begets joy.’ (Ibid.)

 

… —I’ve already traced this ‘phenomenon’ through reference to the parallel between Dante’s poetic conception of purgation in the waters of the Lethe, and the paradoxical sense in which ‘ecstasy’ has a moment or state of ‘agony’ (self-mortification) as the condition of its possibility and at the root of its necessity.

 

Nietzsche’s description of this paradoxical ‘phenomenon’ emphasises its strong sexual element as the harnessing and discharge of physiological energies. …

 

—As with Dante’s sublimation of erotic love for Beatrice into a spiritual and artistic quest, Nietzsche argues that sexual physical energies are sublimated into an incarnate and immanent ‘spirituality’ (sic) in art. …

 

*Nietzsche focuses on ‘Dionysian music’ as sublime: —exciting ‘awe and terror’. (Ibid.)

 

—The elements which form the essence of this sublimity are—‘the emotional power of the tone, the uniform flow of the melody, and the utterly incomparable world of harmony.’ (Ibid.)

 

This essence (—the ‘spirit’, then) of music, Nietzsche sees as embodied—typified (that is,—made type)—in the Dionysian dithyramb. …

*—In Dionysian music, ‘man is incited to the greatest exaltation of all his symbolic faculties’. …

*—‘something never before experienced struggles for utterance’. …

 

The Dionysian Hellene was impelled to engage all of the ‘symbolic faculties’ of movement, sound, and rhythm (—etc.),… in order to express the ecstatic rapture in which the ‘essence of nature’—the drives and extreme emotions veiled and transfigured by the Apollinian—find ‘symbolic’ (sic) expression,—are embodied and discharged directly without interposition:

—‘we need a new world of symbols; and the entire symbolism of the body is called into play’. Nietzsche calls this the ‘spirit’ of music: the ‘collective release of all the symbolic powers’. (—Cf. 40-41)

 

—In music, the experience of the Dionysian is expressed and discharged immediately through the simultaneous and mutually augmenting ‘faculties’ and ‘powers’ of bodily movement and gesticulation, rhythm, and sound.

 

For Nietzsche, the release of the ‘symbolic powers’ results from the laceration and ‘ecstasy’ of the Dionysian state:

*—‘man must have already attained that height of self-abnegation which seeks to express itself symbolically through all these powers’ in order to create music. (41)

 

He continues his thinly veiled evocation of the sexual element in the constitution and purgative affect of the Dionysian…

—Into the Apollinian ‘world, built on mere appearance and moderation and artificially dammed up, there penetrated, in tones ever more bewitching and alluring, the ecstatic sound of the Dionysian festival’. (§4, 46)

 

—The Apollinian Hellene was forced to acknowledge their (thinly veiled-repressed) desire *(—need) to unleash these ‘titanic’ drives through the enjoyment of an unrestrained ecstatic celebration. …

 

*—‘The muses of the arts of “illusion” paled before an art that, in its intoxication, spoke the truth’,—the truth, indeed, which the Apollinian had itself been engendered precisely in order to veil: …

*… —‘excess in pleasure, grief, and knowledge’. (Ibid.)

 

—The individual surrendered to ‘the self-oblivion of the Dionysian states, forgetting the precepts of Apollo.

*—‘Excess revealed itself as truth.

Contradiction—‘the bliss born of pain’,—‘spoke out of the very heart of nature.’ (—46-47)…

The need to veil the truth,—the longing for redemption through illusion, was shattered and was overcome. …

No longer did the Hellene need to hide from the truth beneath a veil.

Now,—their ‘bliss’ in the excess of pleasure, grief and knowledge was born from the ‘pain’ of ‘laceration’ and revelation.

 

This irresistible ‘penetration’ of the Dionysian precipitated the final and most powerful reincarnation of the Apollinian in its militaristic apotheosis in Sparta: —‘the Doric state’. (47)

 

—Against the ‘new power’ of the Dionysian, the Apollinian in turn, in the fourth great period of Hellenic art (late VI and V, B.C.), then, was incited to rise to the ‘austere majesty’ of ‘the Doric state’—Sparta—‘Doric art and the Doric view of the world’.

And Nietzsche dubs this culminating period in the history of Hellenic culture the ‘permanent military encampment of the Apollinian.’ (BT, §4, 47.—See Silk & Stern, Nietzsche on Tragedy,—66.)

 

*Having thus completed his reading of what he effectively therefore defines as a four-fold shape of ancient Greek cultural and artistic history,… —Nietzsche proceeds to use his intuition of the central role played by the Dionysian and Apollinian modes of the sublime in this history as the basis for reaching what he dubs the ‘real goal’ of his—‘investigation’…

*(That is)—‘knowledge of the Dionysian-Apollinian genius and its art product’. (§5, 48.—emphases added)…

*… —the conjunction (then), *(—the marriage?), of Apollinian discipline, selection, delimitation, and restraint *(—incorporation), and the freedom and excess *(—purgation) of the Dionysian *(—of Dionysian music). …

 

*—the birth of tragedy. …

 

 

 


[1] John Sallis, Crossings: Nietzsche and the Space of Tragedy (London: The University of Chicago Press, 1991), 1-2, 5.—See Plato, The Republic, trans. H.D.P. Lee (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1955), 621 C

[2] Dante, Purgatory, trans. Dorothy L. Sayers (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1955),—‘CANTO XXXI’, 315-321, ll.94-103 (317-318).—see 320n—l.97 b.

[3] Schopenhauer, On the Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason (hereafter FFR), trans. E.J.F Payne (USA: Open Court Publishing Co., 2003), §5, 6… —Schopenhauer adapts the formula from one adopted from Wolff: ‘Nothing is without a ground or reason why it is rather than is not’. (—Ibid.)

[4] Jacquette, The Philosophy of Schopenhauer, 2 (—Cf. 41-47). Schopenhauer, FFR, §49, 225-227.

[5] Schopenhauer, FFR, §49, 227 Magee, 30. Jacquette, The Philosophy of Schopenhauer, 44

[6] —To reiterate Nietzsche’s example (in ‘On Truth’), that I gave in the first string-thread of fragments,… —phenomenal leaves represent only the plural, imperfect copies of the Idea of the leaf, itself the most immediate objectification of the leaf-as-it-is-in-itself (the leaf = X). *(‘OTL’, 117)

[7] On Schopenhauer’s relationship to Platonic Forms or Ideas and their place in his aesthetics, see Julian Young, Schopenhauer, 77-78, 129-134 and Jacquette, ‘Introduction’ (8-9) and Paul Guyer, ‘Pleasure and Knowledge in Schopenhauer’s Aesthetics’, in Jacquette, ed., Schopenhauer, Philosophy, and the Arts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 109-132 (109).

[8] 202. On the relationship of the sublime to the beautiful in Schopenhauer’s aesthetics see Jacquette, ‘Introduction’, in Jacquette, ed., Schopenhauer, Philosophy, and the Arts. (20-22)

[9] —See Kant, Critique of the Power of Judgment, trans. Paul Guyer and Eric Matthews (Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press, 2000),—143-149

[10] WWR, I, §39, 205.—For Kant’s definition of the Mathematical sublime see Critique of the Power of Judgment, 131-143. See also Jacquette, ‘Introduction’, (21-22) and Guyer, ‘Pleasure and Knowledge in Schopenhauer’s Aesthetics’, (114-115) in Jacquette, ed., Schopenhauer, Philosophy, and the Arts 

[11] Kemp Winfree, ‘Before the Subject: Rereading Birth of Tragedy’, 68 …

[12] Cf. GS, §99, 153, where Nietzsche returns to his earlier definition of tragedy in Birth. …

*—Though he here explicitly rejects the terms of Schopenhauer’s sublime (in the exception to the principle of sufficient reason and the principle of individuation, especially as what Nietzsche now identifies as the source of all morality) appropriated in Birth, he also explicitly rejects Schopenhauer’s ‘One Will’ and the philosophical prejudice of the Platonic Idea (that—‘all lions are at bottom only one lion’…).—See also §355, 300-302…

[13] ‘[I]mpudent convention’ is a quotation from Schiller’s hymn ‘An die Freude (to joy)’ which Beethoven used in the final movement of the Ninth Symphony (the ‘“Hymn to Joy”’).

—See Kaufmann’s editor’s note, —37.