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THUS SPOKE ZARATHUSTRA 

Friedrich Nietzsche
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(Friedrich Nietzsche) 

Zarathustra’s Prologue: The Descent and the Proclamation of the Overman 

When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and for ten years he did not weary of it. But at last, a change came over his heart, and one morning he rose with the dawn, stepped before the sun, and spoke to it thus: “Bless me, thou proud star! What would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest?” Zarathustra had become weary of his wisdom, like a bee that has gathered too much honey; he needed hands outstretched to receive it. He wanted to descend to the depths, to go down to men and distribute his light. Thus began Zarathustra’s down-going. 

As Zarathustra descended the mountain, he met an old hermit in the forest. The saint spoke of his love for God and cautioned Zarathustra against returning to men, for they were unreliable and imperfect. When Zarathustra replied, “I love man,” the old man warned him that man was too imperfect a thing to love. Zarathustra left the old man and, when he was alone, he said to his heart: 

“Could it be possible! This old saint in the forest hath not yet heard of it, that God is dead!” 

When Zarathustra arrived at the town, he found the people gathered in the market-place to watch a tight-rope dancer. He addressed the crowd and began to teach the Overman (Übermensch). Man is something that shall be surpassed. Man is a rope, fastened between animal and Overman—a rope over an abyss. A dangerous going-across, a dangerous wayfaring, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting. Zarathustra emphasized that man should not return to the animal, but instead become the meaning of the earth. 

“Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Overman—a rope over an abyss.” 

The people did not understand him; they mocked him and called for the tight-rope dancer to begin. Zarathustra then told them of the “Last Man”—the most despicable being, who is no longer able to despise himself, who makes everything small, who claims to have discovered happiness, and asks, “What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?” and blinks. The crowd shouted, “Give us this Last Man, O Zarathustra! Make us into these Last Men!” Zarathustra grew sad, realizing he was not the mouth for these ears. 

Then the tight-rope dancer began his performance, but a buffoon interfered, causing the dancer to lose his balance and fall to his death. Zarathustra went to the dying man. The dancer feared for his soul and the terrors of hell. Zarathustra comforted him: 

“Thy soul will be dead even sooner than thy body: fear, therefore, nothing any more!” 

Zarathustra carried the corpse away from the city. He spent the night in a hollow tree and, upon waking, realized a new truth. He did not need corpses or a herd of believers; he needed creative companions who would follow their own paths and write new values upon new tables. 

Part One: The Three Metamorphoses 

There are three metamorphoses of the spirit: how the spirit becomes a Camel, the camel a Lion, and the lion at last a Child. The Camel is the spirit of burden, which kneels down and wants to be well laden, asking “What is heaviest?” It hastens into its wilderness. In the loneliest wilderness, the second metamorphosis occurs: the spirit becomes a Lion; it wants to capture freedom and be lord in its own wilderness. The Lion’s enemy is the “Great Dragon,” upon whose every scale glitters “Thou Shalt.” The Lion says “I Will” and utters a holy “No” to reject old values. But the lion cannot yet create new values. For that, the spirit must become a Child. The Child is innocence and forgetting, a new beginning, a game, a self-rolling wheel, a first movement, a holy “Yes.” 

“For the game of creating, my brethren, a holy Yes unto life is needed: its own will, now willeth the spirit; his own world winneth the world’s outcast.” 

The Academic Chairs of Virtue and the Backworldsmen 

Zarathustra criticizes those who preach virtue for the sake of a good sleep. Those who say one must overcome oneself ten times a day to sleep well are merely turning life into a slumber. For Zarathustra, the goal is to remain awake and live life with intensity. He also speaks of the “Backworldsmen”—those who seek a world beyond because they find this world full of suffering and filth. They believe the world is worthless. However, Zarathustra urges loyalty to the body and the earth. It was the suffering and weary body that created God and the “beyond.” 

“It is the body that despaired of the body—it touched the ultimate walls with the fingers of the infatuated spirit.” 

Those who despise the body are weary of life. They are enemies of the body because they cannot be creators. Zarathustra argues that the body is the “Great Reason,” and the mind is merely a small instrument and toy of that reason. To say “No” to the body is to say “No” to existence itself. 

Joys and Passions 

A man should have only one virtue, for multiple virtues war within a person and tear them apart. One’s passions should become one’s virtues and goals. Zarathustra does not want passions to be killed; he wants them to be sublimated. What were once called “demons” and “vices” can, through a strong will, be transformed into “virtues” and “joys.” 

The Pale Criminal 

Zarathustra discusses the nature of crime and punishment. The “Pale Criminal” has committed a murder, but he could not endure the image of his deed. He was crushed not by the deed itself, but by the thought of it and the judgment of society. Justice should be free from revenge, and punishment should not be an insult but a form of healing. When one acknowledges the “wild animal” within, one moves beyond the concept of simple guilt. 

Reading and Writing 

Zarathustra loves only what is written with blood. “Write with blood, and thou wilt find that blood is spirit,” he says. Writing should be the expression of one’s entire being. Reading and 

writing are not just about acquiring information; they are part of a process of becoming. For those who live on the highest peaks, everything is a game. Zarathustra hates gravity and seriousness; life should be a dance. 

“Not by wrath, but by laughter, do we slay. Come, let us slay the spirit of gravity!” 

Zarathustra claims he would only believe in a God who knew how to dance. He wages war against the spirit of gravity—the heaviness, the seriousness, and the “Thou Shalt” of the dragon. To him, life is lightness and flight. 

The Tree on the Hill 

Zarathustra sees a youth crying by a tree. The youth feels that the more he tries to rise toward the light, the more he is pulled down into the darkness and evil. Zarathustra tells him that the tree, in order to grow high toward the light, must send its roots deep into the dark, into the earth, and into evil. Man is the same; greatness is only possible through the acceptance of one’s depths and darker sides. 

The Preachers of Death and War 

He criticizes the “Preachers of Death”—those who say life is only suffering and that one should renounce living. To them, life is an ordeal and death is a release. Zarathustra argues that life is meaningful only for warriors and creators. He states that peace should only be loved as a preparation for new wars. The greatest enemy is the enemy within. The warrior is one who fights for his own truth and presents his victory as a peace. 

“Your peace shall be a victory!” 

The New Idol: The State 

Zarathustra speaks of the “State.” The State is the coldest of all cold monsters. It lies; it says “I, the State, am the people.” The State is the place where the good and the bad all drink poison together. Zarathustra asserts that where the State ends, the real man begins. 

“Where the State ceaseth—there only commenceth the man who is not superfluous: there commenceth the song of the necessary ones, the single and irreplaceable melody.” 

The Flies of the Market-place 

Common crowds and the market-place harass the creator. The people love actors and mimes, not great men of original thought. Zarathustra advises the creator to flee into his solitude because in the market-place, no one understands the “Overman.” There, one finds only small calculations, gossip, and petty envies. The crowds are like poisonous flies; they sting with a thousand tiny needles. 

Chastity and the Friend 

Chastity is a matter of individual nature; for some, it is a virtue, but for others, it is merely suppressed instinct. One must be honest with one’s own nature. Regarding friendship, Zarathustra says the friend is a “stepping-stone.” A friend is a whip to help one surpass oneself. He opposes “neighbor-love” because people often seek their neighbors to escape from themselves. 

“I teach you not the neighbor, but the friend. Let the friend be the festival of the earth to you, and a foretaste of the Overman.” 

A Thousand and One Goals and the Way of the Creating One 

Zarathustra observes that every people has its own table of “good and evil,” which is an expression of its will to power. However, humanity does not yet have a common goal. He addresses the creator who retires into solitude: the one who creates his own values must be prepared to be his own judge, executioner, and victim. The creative path is a lonely one, but it is the only path to the Overman. 

Old and Young Women 

Regarding the relationship between men and women, Zarathustra suggests that a woman’s greatest task is to give birth to the Overman. The man should love danger and play. Zarathustra gives the famous warning: 

“Thou goest to women? Do not forget thy whip!” 

This “whip” represents alertness and caution against the dangerous nature of desire and life, rather than mere oppression. 

The Bite of the Adder and the Child 

While Zarathustra is sleeping, an adder bites him on the neck. Zarathustra wakes up and thanks the snake, for the snake’s poison is ineffective against Zarathustra’s wisdom. Concerning marriage, he says that two people should unite to surpass themselves. Marriage should not just be about reproduction, but a sacred covenant to create a higher being, an Overman. 

Voluntary Death and the Gift-giving Virtue 

Zarathustra teaches the art of “dying at the right time.” One should complete one’s life as a victory and know how to die when the highest goal is reached. There is no sanctity in an unconsumed life or an endless old age. At the end of the first part, as he says goodbye to his disciples, he describes the “Gift-giving Virtue.” This virtue is the highest because it seeks nothing for itself; it simply overflows and gives. Zarathustra commands his disciples to leave him and find their own paths: 

“Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only when ye have all denied me, will I return unto you.” 

Part Two: The Child with the Mirror and the Blissful Islands 

Zarathustra returns to his mountains. Years pass, and his soul grows like a child. But one night, he dreams of a mirror, and his reflection is that of a monster, a devil’s grimace. This is a sign that his teaching has been distorted and his enemies have twisted his words. Zarathustra decides to descend among men once again. He speaks to his friends on the “Blissful Islands.” He rejects the idea of God; for if there were perfect Gods, what would be left for man to create? 

“God is a conjecture: but I should like your conjecturing not to reach beyond your creating will.” 

The Pitiful and the Priests 

Zarathustra criticizes “Pity” (Compassion) for those who suffer. Pity pulls the sufferer down further and shames them. Real love is raising the other and reminding them of their own strength. In criticizing priests, he says they present their own internal darkness as holiness and are enemies of life. Their “Redeemers” have actually enslaved man and turned the earth into a prison. 

The Virtuous and the Rabble 

Zarathustra criticizes those who expect a reward for their virtue. True virtue is its own reward. The “Rabble” in the market-place contaminate the fountain of life; they make everything common and pull it down. He also fiercely criticizes the “Tarantulas”—those who preach equality. To them, equality is justice, but to Zarathustra, this is the desire of the weak to take revenge on the strong. 

“To redeem the past, and to transform every ‘It was’ into ‘Thus would I have it’—that only shall I call redemption!” 

Famous Wise Men and the Night Song 

Zarathustra states that the “Famous Wise Men” have actually been servants of the people and old beliefs. A true wise man is one who seeks truth and risks everything for it. Zarathustra expresses his loneliness in “The Night Song”; he is a light, but the loneliness of light is great. He suffers from the necessity of always giving. In “The Dance Song,” he dances with life itself. Life appears to him as a woman—wild and attractive. 

The Tomb Song and Self-Surpassing 

Zarathustra looks at the graves of his past ideals and youth dreams. However, he has emerged stronger from all these ruins; his will is powerful enough to conquer anything. He then explains the doctrine of the Will to Power (Wille zur Macht) in its deepest form. In everything that lives, there is an obeyer and a commander. Commanding is more difficult than obeying. 

“Wherever I found a living thing, there found I Will to Power; and even in the will of the servant found I the will to be master.” 

Life is something that must constantly surpass itself. If life were merely the instinct for survival, there would be no will to power. Life risks itself and sacrifices itself to become more. 

The Sublime Ones and the Land of Culture 

Zarathustra mocks those who think they are “sublime” but are merely stiff with pride. They do not know beauty, grace, or lightness. Those living in the “Land of Culture” have taken pieces from every era and every people to patch themselves together; none have their own original color or spirit. They are shadows devoid of reality. 

Immaculate Perception and Scholars 

Those who seek “Immaculate Perception” want only to observe the world; they are afraid to touch and create. They are on the edge of life, not in it. Zarathustra says that scholars work like clocks—ticking away—but they have no soul. They only collect information; they do not 

create. Poets, on the other hand, lie too much; they drown in the imaginary worlds they create. 

Great Events and The Soothsayer 

Zarathustra says that great changes do not come with noise, but on “dove’s feet.” Real great events are silent changes in thought. One day a soothsayer comes to Zarathustra and says, “Everything is the same, nothing is new, everything is empty,” heralding nihilism. This thought plunges Zarathustra into deep grief and sleep. 

Redemption 

Zarathustra crosses a bridge filled with the deformed and beggars. To him, the real deformity is not in the body, but in “inverse” souls. Turning the “It was” of the past into “Thus I willed it” is the only true redemption. Man must stop being a prisoner of time and become its creator. 

Human Prudence and The Stillest Hour 

Zarathustra says that living among men requires prudence because men are small. But finally, his inner voice, “The Stillest Hour,” whispers to him that the time has come to take up the heaviest burden. Although Zarathustra says he is not yet ready, his inner voice commands him to go and speak. Zarathustra returns to his mountains in tears. 

Part Three: The Wanderer and The Vision 

Zarathustra walks alone in the mountains, speaking to himself: “I am a wanderer and a mountain-climber; I do not love the plains and the stillness.” He then describes a terrifying vision: At the edge of an abyss, a dwarf is sitting on Zarathustra’s shoulders, pulling him down. This dwarf is the “Spirit of Gravity.” Zarathustra tells the dwarf to stop and poses the riddle of the Eternal Recurrence (Das Ewige Wiederkunft): 

“Must not whatever can happen have happened already? And must we not return and run in that other lane out there, before us, in this long, eerie lane—must we not eternally return?” 

Zarathustra explains that every moment, every thought, and every pain repeats and will repeat eternally. Then he sees a shepherd with a heavy black snake in his mouth, choking him. Zarathustra cries out to the shepherd, “Bite! Bite off the head!” The shepherd bites off the snake’s head and spits it out; in that moment, the shepherd is no longer a man but a transformed, radiant, laughing being. This is the transformation of the man who accepts and overcomes the thought of eternal recurrence. 

Involuntary Bliss and Before Sunrise 

Zarathustra says that happiness cannot be chased; it comes involuntarily only when one lets go of everything. He speaks to the sky; the infinite depth, clarity, and limitlessness of the sky are a symbol of the Overman ideal. The sky that says “God is dead” is now the place where man must ignite his own light. 

The Belittling Virtue 

Zarathustra descends among men again and sees they have grown even smaller. Men have shrunk because they have sacrificed their virtues for small comforts and the search for 

security. “Belittling Virtue” has taught them to be content, modest, and to find the “middle way.” To Zarathustra, this is not virtue, but stagnation. 

“He who does not create his own sun, cools himself in another’s shadow.” 

On the Olive Mount and Passing-By 

Zarathustra maintains his inner warmth even on cold winter days. He sees the stench of cities and how people consume each other. While passing through the “Great City,” a fool tells him to curse the city. Zarathustra replies, “Where one can no longer love, there should one pass by,” refusing to waste even his anger. 

The Apostates and The Home-Coming 

Zarathustra sees that most of his former disciples have become apostates. They have given up in the face of difficulties and returned to old beliefs, old gods, and safe havens. Zarathustra finally returns “Home,” to his solitude and his cave. Solitude is his only true homeland; there he is alone with his own voice. 

The Three Evil Things and The Spirit of Gravity 

In a dream, Zarathustra weighs three things: Voluptuousness, Passion for Power, and Selfishness. These are usually condemned by religions, but for Zarathustra, they are the natural sources of the will to power and the desire for life. He then curses the Spirit of Gravity—the cumbersome morality and seriousness that make the world heavy. He praises lightness, dance, and laughter. 

Old and New Tables 

Zarathustra says that the old tables of morality imposed by society must be broken. The concepts of “Good and Evil” are not static and hinder the flow of life. The creator must write his own tables. 

“Break, break the old tables! The writers say: ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’ But I say unto you: Love the furthest!” 

The things the ancients held sacred should be destroyed if they block life. Neighbor-love is an escape; it is seeking refuge in another because one is afraid of oneself. Real love is the longing for the future Overman. 

The Convalescent and The Great Longing 

Zarathustra falls ill under the weight of the thought of Eternal Recurrence. He lies unconscious for seven days. This thought was initially terrifying to him because the idea of the “smallest man” returning was choking him. But when he wakes up, his animals (the Eagle and the Serpent) sing to him. Zarathustra has now tamed this thought and turned it into the greatest affirmation of life. 

Addressing his soul, he speaks of the “Great Longing.” The soul must embrace everything, digest every pain, and surpass everything. Zarathustra meets life itself again and sings “The Other Dance Song,” establishing an eternal bond with existence. 

The Seven Seals (Or: The Song of Yes and Amen) 

Zarathustra proclaims his love for eternity. At the end of each section, the refrain “For I love thee, O Eternity!” is repeated. This is the highest and most sacred “Yes” given to the infinite cycle of life and the return of all things. 

Part One: The Honey Sacrifice and The Cry of Distress 

Zarathustra is now old. He offers a “Honey Sacrifice” on his mountain, waiting for his future friends and children. One day, sitting in his cave, he hears a terrible, heart-wrenching “cry of distress.” He follows this cry and, on his way, meets various “Higher Men.” These are the best of the old world but are still incomplete. 

Kings, The Leech, and The Magician 

Zarathustra first meets two kings who have fled from the vulgarity of the people in search of nobility. Then he meets the “Conscientious Scholar” (the Leech-gatherer), who is studying the brain of a leech because he wants complete knowledge in one small thing rather than vague knowledge in everything. Then he meets a magician who is faking a suffering soul, but Zarathustra exposes his hypocrisy and calls him a mere actor. 

The Retired Pope and The Ugliest Man 

On his way, Zarathustra meets an old pope who says God is dead and he no longer has a master to serve. Then he sees the “Ugliest Man,” who is the murderer of God. He killed God because he could not endure God’s all-seeing eye and his constant pity. Man killed God because of God’s compassion. 

The Voluntary Beggar and The Shadow 

Zarathustra meets a beggar who has given up his wealth to live among the poor but found no peace there. Then he sees his own “Shadow,” which has traveled everywhere but found no home. Each of these characters represents a different face of nihilism and emptiness. Zarathustra invites them all to his cave. 

Noon and The Feast 

At noon, Zarathustra sleeps under a tree and feels the perfection of the world. “The world hath become perfect,” he says. When he returns to his cave, he finds all these higher men there. He teaches them the “Overman” doctrine one last time, in a harsher tone. They are beings in a stage of “transition.” 

“Ye higher men, learn this from me: In the market-place no one believeth in higher men. But if ye will speak there, the crowd shouteth: ‘We are all equal before God!’ But God is dead!” 

The Song of Melancholy and The Ass Festival 

In the cave, the magician sings a melancholic song. After a while, the higher men take advantage of Zarathustra’s absence to hold an “Ass Festival,” worshiping a donkey. This shows how ancient and resilient the “worship” instinct is in man. Even when God dies, man immediately tends to replace him with a new idol. Zarathustra enters and mocks them. 

The Drunken Song and The Depth of Night 

In the silence of the night, Zarathustra sings his deepest song, “The Drunken Song.” This song tells that the world is much deeper than the day thinks, that pain is fleeting, but joy longs for eternity. 

“The world is deep, and deeper than the day could read. Deep is its woe—joy—deeper still than heart’s agony: woe saith: Hence! Go! But all joy willeth eternity—willeth deep, profound eternity!” 

The Sign and Zarathustra’s Final Decision 

The next morning, Zarathustra steps out of his cave. A lion is roaring at the entrance, and doves are flying around it. This is the “sign” Zarathustra was waiting for. The lion represents strength and sovereignty; the doves represent childlike innocence and peace. Zarathustra breaks his final bond of “pity” for the suffering of higher men. Compassion is the last obstacle he must overcome. 

“My pity! What mattereth my pity! Is it happiness I seek for? I seek for my work!” 

Zarathustra leaves his cave, glowing, strong, and determined like a morning sun rising behind dark mountains. He is no longer just a teacher; he is the meaning and the future of the earth itself. 

Analysis of Core Concepts 

1. The Death of God: This phrase symbolizes the collapse of a metaphysical power center and absolute moral authority. With the death of God, man must not become aimless, but rather gain the freedom to create his own values. 

2. The Overman (Übermensch): The ideal that man is a “bridge” that must be surpassed. The Overman is the one who has escaped herd morality, affirms life in all its aspects, and sets his own law. 

3. Will to Power: The driving force at the foundation of the universe and life. It is the desire not just to survive, but to become more, to master, and to create. 

4. Eternal Recurrence: The thought that every moment of life will repeat infinitely. The person who accepts this thought not as a burden but as a reward is the one who truly loves life. 

“Remain true to the earth, and believe not those who speak unto you of superearthly hopes! Poisoners are they, whether they know it or not.” 

Zarathustra’s teaching is a destruction followed by a massive construction. It destroys the old world and slave morality; in its place, it puts a new form of existence where man stands on his own strength and hallows the earth. This journey is for those who dare to walk on the rope over the abyss. 

The Three Metamorphoses

Zarathustra’s first teaching is the self’s preparation: “I name you three metamorphoses of the spirit: how the spirit becomes a camel, and the camel a lion, and the lion at last a child.” The camel loves to bear the heaviest burdens; the lion makes itself free by saying “No” to the dragon “Thou shalt”; the child is the wheel that rolls out of itself, a new beginning and a sacred “Yes.” The child is the creator who writes new values on new tablets.

Part I: The Prologue and the Speeches

Zarathustra descends from his solitude with one desire: “I love mankind.” The old saint who loves God remains in the forest, and Zarathustra murmurs: “Could it be possible? This old saint has not yet heard that God is dead!” In the marketplace he offers the people the Superman, but they answer with the last man: “What is love? What is creation? What is longing? The last man blinks.” The tightrope walker dies midway, and Zarathustra carries his body; he understands that he must not be a shepherd over a dead herd but a creator who calls companions. He tells his listeners: “I teach you the Superman. Man is something that shall be overcome.” The speeches of Part I overturn inherited virtue: the body is not a prison for the soul, the state is not an idol, pity is not the highest law, and one must become a bridge from beast to Superman.

Part II: Redemption and the Will to Power

In Part II, Zarathustra’s doctrine grows darker. Life itself, he says, is will to power: “Where I found the living, there I found will to power; and even in the will of the servant I found the will to be master.” But this will is not a desire for domination; it is self-overcoming.

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