THE WEST'S DARKEST HOUR

5

When Zarathustra had spoken these words he looked again at the people and fell silent. “There they stand,” he said to his heart, “they laugh, they do not understand me, I am not the mouth for these ears.[1]

Must one first smash their ears so that they learn to hear with their eyes? Must one rattle like kettle drums and penitence preachers? Or do they believe only a stutterer?

They have something of which they are proud. And what do they call that which makes them proud? Education[2] they call it, it distinguishes them from goatherds.

For that reason they hate to hear the word ‘contempt’ applied to them. So I shall address their pride instead.

Thus I shall speak to them of the most contemptible person: but he is the last human being.”[3]

And thus spoke Zarathustra to the people:

“It is time that mankind set themselves a goal. It is time that mankind plant the seed of their highest hope.

Their soil is still rich enough for this. But one day this soil will be poor and tame, and no tall tree will be able to grow from it anymore.

Beware! The time approaches when human beings no longer launch the arrow of their longing beyond the human, and the string of their bow will have forgotten how to whir!

I say to you: one must still have chaos in oneself in order to give birth to a dancing star. I say to you: you still have chaos in you.

Beware! The time approaches when human beings will no longer give birth to a dancing star. Beware! The time of the most contemptible human is coming, the one who can no longer have contempt for himself.

Behold! I show you the last human being.

‘What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?’ – thus asks the last human being, blinking.

Then the earth has become small, and on it hops the last human being, who makes everything small. His kind is ineradicable, like the flea beetle; the last human being lives longest.

‘We invented happiness’ – say the last human beings, blinking.

They abandoned the regions where it was hard to live: for one needs warmth. One still loves one’s neighbor and rubs up against him: for one needs warmth.

Becoming ill and being mistrustful are considered sinful by them: one proceeds with caution. A fool who still stumbles over stones or humans!

A bit of poison once in a while; that makes for pleasant dreams. And much poison at the end, for a pleasant death.

One still works, for work is a form of entertainment. But one sees to it that the entertainment is not a strain.

One no longer becomes poor and rich: both are too burdensome. Who wants to rule anymore? Who wants to obey anymore? Both are too burdensome.

No shepherd and one herd![4] Each wants the same, each is the same, and whoever feels differently goes voluntarily into the insane asylum.

‘Formerly the whole world was insane’ – the finest ones say, blinking.

One is clever and knows everything that has happened, and so there is no end to their mockery. People still quarrel but they reconcile quickly – otherwise it is bad for the stomach.

One has one’s little pleasure for the day and one’s little pleasure for the night: but one honors health.

‘We invented happiness’ say the last human beings, and they blink.” –
 
And here ended the first speech of Zarathustra, which is also called “The Prologue,”[5] for at this point he was interrupted by the yelling and merriment of the crowd. “Give us this last human being, oh Zarathustra” – thus they cried – “make us into these last human beings! Then we will make you a gift of the Overman!”[6] And all the people jubilated and clicked their tongues. But Zarathustra grew sad and said to his heart:

“They do not understand me. I am not the mouth for these ears.

Too long apparently I lived in the mountains, too much I listened to brooks and trees: now I speak to them as to goatherds.

My soul is calm and bright as the morning mountains. But they believe I am cold, that I jeer, that I deal in terrible jests.

And now they look at me and laugh, and in laughing they hate me too. There is ice in their laughter.”

 

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The above German-English translation by Adrian del Caro is taken from Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Cambridge University Press, 2006). This Cambridge edition lacks the more detailed notes by Andrés Sánchez-Pascual in Así Habló Zaratustra (Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 2014), translated below.

Notes:

[1] Reminiscence of the Gospel of Matthew 13:13: “Therefore speak I to them in parables: because they seeing see not; and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand.”

[2] On this concept see, in the second part, “On the Land of Education.”

[3] The “last” man means above all the “last” in the human scale. In Ecce homo Nietzsche says: “In this sense Zarathustra first calls the good ‘the last men,’ then later ‘the beginning of the end’; above all, he finds them the most harmful kind of man, because they secure their existence at the expense of truth just as they do at the expense of the future.”

[4] A paraphrase, changing its meaning, of the Gospel of John, 10, 16: “There shall be one flock and one shepherd.”

[5] By the pun in German between erste Rede (first address) and Vorrede (prologue or, also, preliminary speech) Nietzsche actually meant that this first talk to men (redden, to speechify) has not been but a preliminary talk, and that his real talk will now begin. So the true first part of this work is titled precisely “The speeches (Reden) of Zarathustra.”

[6] Echo of the Gospel scene (Gospel of Luke, 23, 18) when the crowd rejects Jesus and claims Barabbas “And they cried out all at once, saying, Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas!”

 

2

Zarathustra climbed down alone from the mountains and encountered no one. But when he came to the woods suddenly an old man stood before him, who had left his saintly hut in search of roots in the woods.[1] And thus spoke the old man to Zarathustra:

“This wanderer is no stranger to me: many years ago he passed by here. Zarathustra he was called; but he is transformed.

Back then you carried your ashes to the mountain[2]: would you now carry your fire into the valley? Do you not fear the arsonist’s punishment?

Yes, I recognize Zarathustra. His eyes are pure, and no disgust is visible around his mouth.[3] Does he not stride like a dancer?

Zarathustra is transformed, Zarathustra has become a child, an awakened one[4] is Zarathustra. What do you want now among the sleepers?

You lived in your solitude as if in the sea, and the sea carried you. Alas, you want to climb ashore? Alas, you want to drag your own body again?”

Zarathustra answered: “I love mankind.”

“Why,” asked the saint, “did I go into the woods and the wilderness in the first place? Was it not because I loved mankind all too much?

Now I love God: human beings I do not love. Human beings are too imperfect a thing for me. Love for human beings would kill me.”

Zarathustra replied. “Why did I speak of love? I bring mankind a gift.”

“Give them nothing,” said the saint. “Rather take something off them and help them to carry it – that will do them the most good, if only it does you good!

And if you want to give to them, then give nothing more than alms, and make them beg for that too!”

“No,” answered Zarathustra. “I do not give alms. For that I am not poor enough.”

The saint laughed at Zarathustra and spoke thus: “Then see to it that they accept your treasures! They are mistrustful of hermits and do not believe that we come to give gifts.

To them our footsteps sound too lonely in the lanes. And if at night lying in their beds they hear a man walking outside, long before the sun rises, they probably ask themselves: where is the thief going?[5]

Do not go to mankind and stay in the woods! Go even to the animals instead! Why do you not want to be like me – a bear among bears, a bird among birds?”

“And what does the saint do in the woods?” asked Zarathustra.

The saint answered: “I make songs and sing them, and when I make songs I laugh, weep and growl: thus I praise God.

With singing, weeping, laughing and growling I praise the god who is my god. But tell me, what do you bring us as a gift?”

When Zarathustra had heard these words he took his leave of the saint and spoke: “What would I have to give you! But let me leave quickly before I take something from you!” – And so they parted, the oldster and the man, laughing like two boys laugh.

But when Zarathustra was alone he spoke thus to his heart: “Could it be possible! This old saint in his woods has not yet heard the news that God is dead!” [6] –

 

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The above German-English translation by Adrian del Caro is taken from Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Cambridge University Press, 2006). This Cambridge edition lacks the more detailed notes by Andrés Sánchez-Pascual in Así Habló Zaratustra (Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 2014). I have translated Sánchez-Pascual’s notes to English.

Notes:

[1] By the end of the work the retired pope will come looking for him and find dead this old hermit; see in the fourth part, “Retired.”

[2] See, in this first part, “On the Hinterworldly,” and “On the Way of the Creator,” and in the second part, “The Soothsayer,” where reference to ashes reappears. The ash is symbol of cremation and rejection of false juvenile ideals.

[3] The purity of the eyes and the absence of disgust in the mouth are attributes of Zarathustra referred on numerous occasions; see, for example, in the second part, “On the Sublime Ones,” and the fourth, “The Voluntary Beggar.”

[4] The “awakened one” is a common epithet of Buddha, which applies here to Zarathustra.

[5] A reference to Thessalonians 5: 2, “For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.”

[6] The idea of the death of God, which runs through the whole work, and the ignorance by the hermit saint, will be a topic of conversation between Zarathustra and the retired pope when both speak and the hermit has died. See, in the fourth part, “Retired.”