Near Fine. Dust Jacket Condition: Near Fine. Eighth Printing, February Of questionable authenticity. Inked name on ffep. Lightly soiled rear panel dj. Blue cloth. NY: Boar's Head Books. Very Good with no dust jacket; Boards lightly worn.. Brown illustrated boards. Translated and introduced by Dr. Oscar Levy.
Boar's Head Books, No dust jacket. Burgundy cloth. Well bound and clean pages, with moderate tanning and marking to text block edges. Light tanning to pastedowns and endpapers.
- Whom the Gods Would Destroy.
- My Sister and I (Updated, Including Last Letters).
- Jacques and de Beanstalk.
- Friedrich Nietzsche & Oscar Levy, My Sister and I - PhilPapers.
Boards have moderate shelf wear, with rubbing and marking. Moderate bumping to corners and crushing to spine ends. Binding remains firm, with sunning to spine and edges.
Blue cloth.. Price clipped. No ink, names, bookplates etc. Rest of text bright and in Fine condition. Translated and Introduction by Dr. Amok Books, Swezey and King are convinced My Sister and I is authentic, and their presentation of so much relevant material, pro and con, shows an honesty as admirable as it is unusual.
Okay: but is this book by Nietzsche? No, it is not. Stewart does not succeed in his defense of the text against the objections originally voiced by Kaufmann in Here is a sample of two oddities in the text that Kaufmann noticed and that especially struck me. Henry Ford was then just an engineer working for Detroit Edison, horseless carriages were still years away, and Detroit did not yet have a world reputation. Besides being witless, this little joke cannot even be formulated in German. The German manuscript of this book did not disappear, one surmises, because it simply never existed.
Kaufmann also catches Nietzsche making another joke that depends on a mistranslation in the King James Bible; later Jacques Barzun said it was purloined from his Berlioz. I doubt it. Weird, to be sure, but still fairly mild stuff for a self-styled Antichrist. And what I have said so far is therefore relativised. In I construed it in large part as a recantation, when all is said and done Wilkinson, And the same applies to all the other themes. Also, the apparent understandability of the local statements and remarks is misleading; they have a further dimension, which is that of their hidden links with, and their comment upon, the whole corpus and thought world of the Nietzschean vision and philosophy, something not obvious to the beginning reader, and yet one of the major arguments for the authenticity of this work.
Thus, a remark like: No, art does not justify life, it does not even justify itself. This is not a recantation but an advance. It is a more ego-free, less posturing, position. And there are a multitude of such brief comments. I shall return to these later. And why indeed is a dismissed work by a 19th-century philosopher of interest to Psychotherapists? Psychotherapists are mainly too absorbed in the technical presentation of their work to offer vision in its own right, yet here is vision deeply congruent with the alchemical journey implicit in much Psychotherapy Rowan, , yet not offered as mere adjunct to the technical matters.
What would we not give to have a new major play by Shakespeare, an undiscovered substantial posthumous book by Sigmund Freud as we did indeed have with The Project, Freud, , or a major unpublished symphony by Beethoven? But they do not eliminate the question Stewart, ; Wilkinson, So, in explanation of this phenomenon, we might pursue many lines of enquiry here, such as those of: i. Roberts, ; Heath, ; iv.
Again, this work—whether or not authentic—raises many questions of more general scope. For all our lip service to existential authentic- ity, in such a situation we are found wanting. Lukacs, But, hold on, am I not in effect making these challenges and accusations in advance, begging the question? Who, especially among Psychotherapists, has so much as come across this book, to be honourably faced with the question of its recognition?
Well, here there is indeed room for genuine dialogue.
'Criminal' manipulation of Nietzsche by sister to make him look anti-Semitic
It is certainly true that this book has been ignored and wilfully dismissed, by those who know of it. But the acid test is indeed whether someone who has not encountered it before, for whom it becomes a wholly new dilemma, is willing to take it seriously. The challenge So put this to the test! Journey with me through this strange and terrible work! To convey the sense of this work long quotations will often be necessary. I begin with a long and beautiful quotation conveying his sense of his posthumous existence, and his reaching out to life and love, here early in the book associated with Cosima Wagner it becomes more and more emphatically Lou Salome and Jewish-centric as the book goes on.
It also illustrates the magisterial grandeur and poignancy of the style, embodying both a wealth of allusions to previous writings e. Up to now my work has been artistic because of my refusal to cry out against my private doom. But now I bellow like a wounded bull who is tormented beyond animal endurance, and the Lama [his nickname for his sister] dreads such a revelation of me who have become synonymous with Stoic fortitude and indifference. I have been broken on the wheel of Fate; I am dying in agony, but my dear sister already considers me dead and is only eager to save me for the deathless future, for the psychic immortality that Spinoza spoke about.
She quotes my Grave-Song to them: Hail to you, will of mine! Only where there are graves are there resurrections. I am strangling in the airless void of the age, without love, without life, without the song of the Sirens to recall me back to my vital being once crowned with the evergreen garland of bliss. O singing birds of my hopes—where are you now?
- At Fault.
- SURVIVING THE 11+.
- Friedrich Nietzsche My Sister and I!
Your throats are cut and your blood gushes out upon the dry desert sands. And the Sirens are quiet, buried in the Great Silence of the Abyss. I have demanded of life that it shape itself in my broken image: life is whole and entire, only I am shattered and ready for the dust-heap. The divine Nietzsche is not even human or sub-human, he is merely a disembodied howl in the screaming chaos of our times. Now I cannot even seek shelter in my humanhood and brutehood; my body is paralysed, my brain is turning to rock and my pall-bearers discuss my greatness in my presence as if I were already laid out in my burial clothes.
Ths sun is in its zenith. It is high noon in Weimar and Elisabeth is serving tea in the garden to some distinguished foreigners who have come all the way from Brazil—or is it Peru? Like an Egyptian mummy who somehow has forgotten to die entirely, I am the spectator of my own death, feeling my eyes turned into dust. Oh love, love, come back to me, bringing life on your healing wings!
I love thee Ariadne! Only my wife Cosima can carry me back to the love of the world where Dionysos and Jesus meet at the breast of the Eternal Woman, the Eternal Delight. There is also the puzzle of his being supposed in Weimar where he was never in an asylum and could not have smuggled the writing out. There are many such puzzles in relation to the presented rationale for the provenance.
He explodes the dichotomy between madness and sanity.
"My Sister And I" -- Nietzsche Or Not?
This emphasis converges in the last half of the book with that of increasing focus on his love for Lou Salome; there is also a link with the theme of the historical—cultural role of the Jew Lou was a Jewess , to which I shall return. By demonstrating to intelligent men that the cultural currency of the West was counterfeit, I lifted myself out of the grave of mediocrity and was resurrected in the mind.
In this noble endeavour Diogenes can help me. What did he say when the people of Sinope condemned him to exile?
And I condemned them to remain in Sinope. This madhouse is a refuge for the truly sane: I condemn my enemies to live in the lunatic asylum—the world of the Philistines! What did Diogenes say when, captured by pirates, he was bought by a fatheaded Moneybags at an auction? Come buy a master!
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