LXV. THE MAGICIAN. 1.  

Another two-parter. Who is he  going to run into this time?  

When however Zarathustra had gone round a rock,  then saw he on the same path, not far below him,  

a man who threw his limbs about like a maniac,  and at last tumbled to the ground on his belly.  

"Halt!" said then Zarathustra to his heart,  "he there must surely be the higher man,  

from him came that dreadful cry of distress,  — I will see if I can help him."  

At last, someone who seems to be in real distress.  Is this the higher man we are looking for?  

When, however, he ran to the spot where the man  lay on the ground, he found a trembling old man,  

with fixed eyes; and in spite of all Zarathustra's  efforts to lift him and set him again on his feet,  

it was all in vain. The unfortunate one, also, did  not seem to notice that some one was beside him;  

on the contrary, he continually looked around  with moving gestures, like one forsaken  

and isolated from all the world. Zarathustra tries to help the old man,  

but he seems to be in such a bad  way that nothing can get to him.  

At last, however, after much trembling,  and convulsion, and curling-himself-up,  

he began to lament thus: Who warm'th me, who lov'th me still?  

Give ardent fingers! Give heartening charcoal-warmers!  

Prone, outstretched, trembling, Like him, half dead and cold,  

whose feet one warm'th — And shaken, ah! by unfamiliar fevers,  

Shivering with sharpened, icy-cold frost-arrows, By thee pursued, my fancy!  

Turns out there's actually nothing physically  wrong with the old man. What ails him is of  

spiritual nature. He is lonely, and wants  someone to love him, but the reason he is  

lonely is that he gave up on human relations to  pursue something. There is some sort of fancy  

that has taken over his mind, and it torments  him. We also learn that he has the skill of  

verse, as he launches into a long poem. Ineffable! Recondite! Sore-frightening!  

Thou huntsman 'hind the cloud-banks! Now lightning-struck by thee,  

Thou mocking eye that me in darkness watcheth: — Thus do I lie,  

Bend myself, twist myself, convulsed With all eternal torture,  

And smitten By thee, cruellest huntsman,  

Thou unfamiliar — GOD... The fancy that torments him is God. He  

feels the need to know God, feels that he cannot  be happy unless he does, and he feels that God has  

put this yearning in him. But, on the other hand,  God also hides himself, so he cannot know him.  

This discrepancy is what tortures his soul. Smite deeper!  

Smite yet once more! Pierce through and rend my heart!  

What mean'th this torture With dull, indented arrows?  

Why look'st thou hither, Of human pain not weary,  

With mischief-loving, godly flash-glances? Not murder wilt thou,  

But torture, torture? For why — ME torture,  

Thou mischief-loving, unfamiliar God? — But there is also pleasure in this torture.  

In fact, it became the strongest emotion in his  life, the thing he lives for. He asks of God to  

make the torture even stronger. Ha! Ha!  

Thou stealest nigh In midnight's gloomy hour?...  

What wilt thou? Speak!  

Thou crowdst me, pressest — Ha! now far too closely!  

Thou hearst me breathing, Thou o'erhearst my heart,  

Thou ever jealous one! — Of what, pray, ever jealous?  

He feels God being close, but still he can't get  to him. Again, he seems to enjoy this torture.  

Off! Off! For why the ladder?  

Wouldst thou GET IN? To heart in-clamber?  

To mine own secretest Conceptions in-clamber?  

Shameless one! Thou unknown one! — Thief! What seekst thou by thy stealing?  

What seekst thou by thy hearkening? The ladder probably alludes to the  

biblical story of Jacob, who dreamt that  he saw a ladder going up to the sky,  

and at the top of it appeared God and  spoke to him. The poet says that God  

is trying to establish a connection with him  as well, but he suspects that he just wants  

to get into his mind and read it. What seekst thou by thy torturing?  

Thou torturer! Thou — hangman-God!  

Or shall I, as the mastiffs do, Roll me before thee?  

And cringing, enraptured, frantical, My tail friendly — waggle!  

Now he ponders that maybe God wants him to  completely prostrate himself before him.  

In vain! Goad further!  

Cruellest goader! No dog — thy game just am I,  

Cruellest huntsman! Thy proudest of captives,  

Thou robber 'hind the cloud-banks... But he refuses to reduce himself to that  

level. So this man, even though he is consumed by  faith and wants to have a relationship with God,  

still insists on maintaining his individuality.  He refuses to let God into his mind, and refuses  

to prostrate himself. Speak finally!  

Thou lightning-veiled one!  Thou unknown one! Speak!  

What wilt thou, highway-ambusher, from — ME? What WILT thou, unfamiliar — God?  

What? Ransom-gold?  

How much of ransom-gold? Solicit much — that bid'th my pride!  

And be concise — that bid'th mine other pride! He is demanding of God to make his intentions  

clear, and tell him, at last, what  he really wants from him. He asks,  

jokingly, if it is money he is after, and his  pride demands that the ransom would be high.  

Ha! Ha! ME — wantest thou? me?  

— Entire?... Ha! Ha!  

And torturest me, fool that thou art, Dead-torturest quite my pride?  

No, God doesn't want money, and definitely  doesn't want to humor his pride. God wants  

him. He wants him to give up his pride in complete  devotion. But he says that God is a fool if he  

believes that he is going to get it. Give LOVE to me — who warm’th me still?  

Who lov’th me still? — Give ardent fingers,  

Give heartening charcoal-warmers, Give me, the lonesomest,  

The ice (ah! seven-fold frozen ice, For very enemies,  

For foes, doth make one thirst), Give, yield to me,  

Cruellest foe, — THYSELF! —  

He repeats the opening lines of the poem, whining  again that no one loves him, and says that if  

he can't have love, at least give him a worthy  enemy to fight. He asks God to be that enemy.  

Away! There fled he surely,  

My final, only comrade, My greatest foe,  

Mine unfamiliar — My hangman-God!...  

But, he acknowledges, God is dead.  He can no longer be an enemy.  

— Nay! Come thou back!  

WITH all of thy great tortures! To me the last of lonesome ones,  

Oh, come thou back! All my hot tears in streamlets trickle  

Their course to thee! And all my final hearty fervour—  

Up-glow'th to THEE! Oh, come thou back,  

Mine unfamiliar God! my PAIN! My final bliss!  

He can't handle the death of God. He needs the  uncertainty and the torture that he felt when  

people still believed in God. He asks of God to  return into people's hearts, and into his heart,  

so he can feel these emotions again. This is how the first part of the  

chapter ends. How will Zarathustra  react to this poor, tortured soul?  

2. — Here, however, Zarathustra could  

no longer restrain himself; he took his staff and  struck the wailer with all his might. "Stop this,"  

cried he to him with wrathful laughter, "stop  this, thou stage-player! Thou false coiner! Thou  

liar from the very heart! I know thee well! I will soon make warm legs to thee,  

thou evil magician: I know well how —  to make it hot for such as thou!"  

Zarathustra is not buying it. He sees  this whole performance as a charade,  

and provides his critical opinion by  first lashing the old man with his staff,  

then mocking his plea for someone to love and  warm him, and finally calling him a magician,  

someone whose art is just illusion and trickery. — "Leave off," said the old man, and sprang  

up from the ground, "strike me no more, O  Zarathustra! I did it only for amusement!  

That kind of thing belongeth to mine  art. Thee thyself, I wanted to put to  

the proof when I gave this performance.  And verily, thou hast well detected me!  

But thou thyself — hast given me no small proof  of thyself: thou art HARD, thou wise Zarathustra!  

Hard strikest thou with thy 'truths,' thy  cudgel forceth from me — THIS truth!"  

The magician admits it, says that he was  only putting Zarathustra to the test,  

and commends him for not falling for it. — "Flatter not," answered Zarathustra,  

still excited and frowning, "thou  stage-player from the heart! Thou  

art false: why speakest thou — of truth! Thou peacock of peacocks, thou sea of vanity;  

WHAT didst thou represent before me,  thou evil magician; WHOM was I meant to  

believe in when thou wailedst in such wise?" "THE PENITENT IN SPIRIT," said the old man,  

"it was him — I represented; thou  thyself once devisedst this expression —  

— The poet and magician who at last  turneth his spirit against himself,  

the transformed one who freezeth to death  by his bad science and conscience.  

Zarathustra rejects the compliment, since it comes  from someone whose sincerity can never be trusted.  

He wants to know who the magician was masquerading  as, while he was putting on this performance. The  

magician answers that he was playing the penitent  in spirit, whom Zarathustra spoke of in 'The  

Sublime Ones'. There, Zarathustra typified the  penitent in spirit as people who strive to live  

by metaphysical, eternal ideals. He praises them  for trying to surpass their nature by striving for  

these transcendent ideals, but also says that  their way is doomed. Self-surpassing should be  

done by striving for temporary, earthly ideals,  because once your spirit creates such an ideal  

for yourself, your nature can then elevate to  become it. A metaphysical and eternal ideal,  

on the other hand, is detached from the earth,  detached from nature, and therefore cannot elevate  

your nature, but just leaves your spirit frozen in  outer-space. The magician turned it into a poem,  

portraying a man who was thus frozen by seeking  to know God, to see if Zarathustra will practice  

what he preached about dealing with such people. We note that the two men seem to know a lot about  

each other, even though this is the first  time they meet. We know that Zarathustra  

is famous, but who is this magician? And just acknowledge it: it was long,  

O Zarathustra, before thou discoveredst my trick  and lie! Thou BELIEVEDST in my distress when  

thou heldest my head with both thy hands, — — I heard thee lament 'we have loved him too  

little, loved him too little!' Because I so far  deceived thee, my wickedness rejoiced in me."  

"Thou mayest have deceived subtler ones  than I," said Zarathustra sternly. "I am  

not on my guard against deceivers; I HAVE TO  BE without precaution: so willeth my lot.  

As many have pointed out, the magician is  surely based on Nietzsche's old hero and mentor,  

Richard Wagner. Wagner was a giant figure  in 19th century culture, a genius composer,  

a theoretician who revolutionized the art of  opera, and a thinker who had a big influence  

on the German spirit. Opera, in the middle of the  century, was considered merely a popular medium,  

basically what Hollywood was to the 20th century,  but Wagner saw it as the highest form of art,  

a multimedia that can bring all art forms  together. He wanted to turn it into the center  

of the German spirit, and through it, transform  society and perfect it. He was ridiculed by the  

cultural elite of the time, but some youngsters  were thrilled by his vision, and by his strong  

willpower, that allowed him to actually build  the opera-house he theorized, and turn it into  

an important cultural center. Nietzsche  idolized the great man and sought him out,  

and Wagner realized the brilliancy of this young  fan, and took him in as a protégé. For a while,  

Nietzsche was the philosopher of Wagner's court. But gradually, Nietzsche started to see things in  

Wagner that didn't chime with the image  he was projecting. Worst of all, Wagner,  

the romantic individualist who was all  about imposing his own will on the world,  

adopted the philosophy of Schopenhauer, the  philosophy of stifling your individual will in  

the name of empathy and compassion for others.  Nietzsche saw it as a betrayal, and started  

regarding Wagner as a fraud. The question of what  made Wagner turn against his nature, or was he  

even that great to begin with, symbolized for him  the breakdown and decline of the European spirit,  

and preoccupied his thoughts. Wagner is mentioned  in practically every book that Nietzsche wrote,  

and he finds a way to insert him into this one as  well. The poem that the magician was reciting is  

a parody of Wagner's style, and Zarathustra's  beating him with a stick shows what Nietzsche  

thinks about it. The magician, however, feels like  he scored a victory by having Zarathustra fooled  

for a while, probably meant to signify those  years when Nietzsche was enamored by Wagner,  

and lamented that he doesn't get the respect he  deserves. Zarathustra, however, isn't ashamed of  

it. He already admitted, in 'Manly Prudence',  that he is naïve about humans. It's one of  

the downsides of his credo of seeing the good in  everything, and he can live with this downside.  

Thou, however, — MUST deceive: so far do  I know thee! Thou must ever be equivocal,  

trivocal, quadrivocal, and quinquivocal!  Even what thou hast now confessed, is not  

nearly true enough nor false enough for me! Thou bad false coiner, how couldst thou do  

otherwise! Thy very malady wouldst thou whitewash  if thou showed thyself naked to thy physician.  

Thus didst thou whitewash thy lie before  me when thou saidst: 'I did so ONLY for  

amusement!' There was also SERIOUSNESS therein,  thou ART something of a penitent-in-spirit!  

Zarathustra may be naïve, but his naivete  comes from his honest nature. The magician,  

on the other hand, is always deceitful and  duplicitous. He can't help himself. His artistry  

corrupted his nature. Even when he admitted that  he was only playing a character, he was lying.  

It wasn't all an act. There is something of the  penitent in spirit in him as well. We'll have to  

read further to see what he means by that. I divine thee well: thou hast become the  

enchanter of all the world; but for  thyself thou hast no lie or artifice  

left, — thou art disenchanted to thyself! Thou hast reaped disgust as thy one truth.  

No word in thee is any longer genuine,  but thy mouth is so: that is to say,  

the disgust that cleaveth unto thy mouth." — Zarathustra basically accuses the magician,  

and Wagner by extension, of selling out. He found  a way to enchant the entire world with his art,  

but he lost his integrity in the process.  There is only one thing genuine about him,  

one thing that hasn't been corrupted, and that  is the tone of his voice. The tone betrays the  

disgust he feels with himself, the disgust  of knowing that he's nothing but a poseur.  

— "Who art thou at all!" cried here the old  magician with defiant voice, "who dareth to speak  

thus unto ME, the greatest man now living?" — and  a green flash shot from his eye at Zarathustra.  

But immediately after he changed, and said sadly: "O Zarathustra, I am weary of it,  

I am disgusted with mine arts, I am  not GREAT, why do I dissemble! But  

thou knowest it well — I sought for greatness! Wagner was actually dead by then. He passed away  

about two years before this was written. But his  avid fans were still touting him as the greatest  

man of his generation. He, too, when he was alive,  had a very high opinion of himself. Here, however,  

Nietzsche portrays the magician as someone  who knows in his heart that this isn't true.  

He managed to fool the whole world, but he can  no longer fool himself. He sought greatness,  

but it wasn't in his nature to be so. A great man I wanted to appear,  

and persuaded many; but the lie hath been  beyond my power. On it do I collapse.  

O Zarathustra, everything is a lie in me; but that  I collapse — this my collapsing is GENUINE!" —  

Now he tries to persuade Zarathustra that at  least here, once he admitted that he isn't  

great, and his self-esteem collapsed  because of it, he is finally genuine.  

"It honoureth thee," said Zarathustra gloomily,  looking down with sidelong glance, "it honoureth  

thee that thou soughtest for greatness, but  it betrayeth thee also. Thou art not great.  

Thou bad old magician, THAT is the best  and the honestest thing I honour in thee,  

that thou hast become weary of thyself,  and hast expressed it: 'I am not great.'  

THEREIN do I honour thee as a penitent-in-spirit,  and although only for the twinkling of an eye,  

in that one moment wast thou — genuine. No, says Zarathustra, he still isn't genuine. The  

only genuine thing about him is that his spirit  admits that he isn't great, but this admittance  

did not cause him to change. This is why he is a  penitent in spirit. Just like the sublime ones,  

his spirit created a lofty ideal, the ideal of  being genuine, but his nature cannot live up to  

this ideal. Of course, being genuine is not an  unattainable ideal for humans, but it is for the  

magician, because of how corrupted he has become.  This is why he is only somewhat of a penitent in  

spirit. In 'The Sublime Ones', Zarathustra points  out how ugly the penitent in spirit are to him,  

and we see that the magician is so ugly  to him that he can't even look at him.  

But tell me, what seekest thou here in MY forests  and rocks? And if thou hast put thyself in MY way,  

what proof of me wouldst thou have? — — Wherein didst thou put ME to the test?"  

Thus spake Zarathustra, and his eyes sparkled.  But the old magician kept silence for a while;  

then said he: "Did I put thee  to the test? I — seek only.  

O Zarathustra, I seek a genuine one, a  right one, a simple one, an unequivocal one,  

a man of perfect honesty, a vessel of  wisdom, a saint of knowledge, a great man!  

Knowest thou it not, O Zarathustra?  I SEEK ZARATHUSTRA."  

Zarathustra now wonders why this charade was  necessary, what exactly did the magician try  

to achieve by putting him to the test.  It turns out that the magician is just  

like the people he met before: a higher man who  could no longer live in contemporary society,  

and is seeking for something loftier. Like them,  he knows that Zarathustra represents a loftier  

way of life. What he especially admires in him  is exactly the thing that is the opposite of  

what he hates in himself: the fact that he  is honest, genuine, and straightforward.  

— And here there arose a long silence between  them: Zarathustra, however, became profoundly  

absorbed in thought, so that he shut his eyes.  But afterwards coming back to the situation,  

he grasped the hand of the magician, and  said, full of politeness and policy:  

"Well! Up thither leadeth the way, there is  the cave of Zarathustra. In it mayest thou  

seek him whom thou wouldst fain find. And ask counsel of mine animals,  

mine eagle and my serpent: they shall help  thee to seek. My cave however is large.  

We recall that in the first chapter of the fourth  part, Zarathustra said that he wants to fish  

interesting people, people who will challenge  his wisdom and make him think new thoughts.  

It appears to be working, as the encounter with  the magician makes him sink in deep thought for  

a while. He then snaps out of it, and invites the  magician to join the other guests in his cave.  

This makes Zarathustra the opposite of Plato.  Plato wanted to take people out of the cave,  

Zarathustra pulls them in. Plato, of course, was  one of the original sublime ones, one who aspired  

to transcend earthly life and live by eternal,  metaphysical ideals. He's the one who put this  

idea into Western philosophy, and those who fell  for it came to regard their earthly life as a dark  

cave, that they must get out of in order to reach  a truthful life. For Nietzsche, this is the idea  

that ruined and corrupted Western spirit,  making people miserable. Zarathustra's cave  

is now the only place where you can escape this  Platonic hell, a place where his animals reign,  

and ascribe a reason that sees earthly life as  the truthful life, and Plato's metaphysical realm  

as a sham we must liberate our minds from.  He hopes that in this cave, the magician,  

and his other guests, will find happiness. Of course, the magician didn't say that he  

seeks happiness. What he seeks is a  great man. Zarathustra sends him to  

his cave to look for him there, but says  this about the chances to find him:  

I myself, to be sure — I have as yet  seen no great man. That which is great,  

the acutest eye is at present insensible  to it. It is the kingdom of the populace.  

Many a one have I found who stretched and  inflated himself, and the people cried:  

'Behold; a great man!' But what good do all  bellows do! The wind cometh out at last.  

At last bursteth the frog which hath inflated  itself too long: then cometh out the wind.  

To prick a swollen one in the belly, I  call good pastime. Hear that, ye boys!  

Our to-day is of the populace: who still  KNOWETH what is great and what is small! Who  

could there seek successfully for greatness!  A fool only: it succeedeth with fools.  

In our time, asserts Zarathustra, there are  no great men. The values are determined by the  

populace, by the rabble, and no great man can  grow on such ground. Moreover, we don't even  

know anymore what greatness is, because our minds  are so shaped by the populace that we can't even  

tell greatness when we see it. Therefore,  it is a fool's errand to seek great men.  

Thou seekest for great men, thou strange fool? Who  TAUGHT that to thee? Is to-day the time for it?  

Oh, thou bad seeker, why dost thou — tempt me?" — Thus spake Zarathustra, comforted in his heart,  

and went laughing on his way. Then again, Zarathustra confesses  

that he is tempted by the magician's quest. He,  too, would like to find a great man. But he knows  

it's foolish, so he goes back to his quest,  the quest for the higher man. This reminds us  

that we should not confuse a higher man with a  great man. A higher man, in contemporary times,  

is not someone who is great, but someone  who is somewhat higher than the rabble,  

or perceived as higher than them. The magician  is such a man, and initially Zarathustra thought  

that he was the one in distress. But it turned  out that he was only acting for Zarathustra,  

so it couldn't have been him. He leaves  him behind, and carries on searching.

YouTube Transcript:
Analyzing Nietzsche: The Magician

Video Transcript

Paste YouTube URL

Get Our Chrome Extension

Get Instant Transcripts: Just Edit the Domain in Your Address Bar!

YouTube Transcript:Analyzing Nietzsche: The Magician

Video Transcript

Paste YouTube URL

Transcript Extraction Form

Get Our Chrome Extension

Get Instant Transcripts: Just Edit the Domain in Your Address Bar!

YouTube Transcript:
Analyzing Nietzsche: The Magician