Genius As A Hero.
Is genius a hero? The last time we talked about genius, we have concluded that there is a certain connection here, although, perhaps, not all that obvious. There are certain types and instances of genius, which instantly qualify as bona fide heroes in the traditional sense, but, on the other hand, there are those who cannot be so identified without some special qualification. Bach was a genius, but his life seems far from being heroic. In another example, Leibniz was a bona fide genius, yet in life an unpleasant, perhaps, even a petty man, as far from being a hero as one can imagine. So, what is the verdict?
Realizing the acute exceptionality of genius, it is, probably, necessary to expand the common understanding of the heroic, in order to put the sign of equivalency between the two. After all, the superhuman drive which characterizes genius (remember the previously quoted spectacular definition of genius, in the Last Words of Lord Edward George Bulwer-Lytton: "Genius does what it must, and talent does what it can!!!") is in itself an indication that genius and the heroic are inextricably related. Archimedes was a genius of science, but not a recognizable hero until the moment of his death, when he showed his fearlessness of physical extinction, but defended his compulsion to finish the work that he had been doing at the time.
Thus I am certain that any genius under the appropriate circumstances will perforce reveal his heroic nature, and it is only the question of whether such circumstances present themselves or not. To make this even more clear, every genius carries within him the seed of the heroic, and just like with any genuine hero his heroism is revealed when, and only when, if at all, the circumstances dictate it.
The Making Of A Hero.
Having talked a lot about heroes in this section, it is time for us to let the Advocatus Diaboli take the floor.
They say that one man’s terrorist is another man’s hero. But is martyrdom of a hero a sign of his strength or his weakness? This is not just a crass question, intended to shock, rather than inviting to think. Here is one of Nietzsche’s perhaps profoundest insights into human nature (Menschliches, 73):
“The martyr against his will.--- In one party, there was a man who was too anxious and cowardly ever to contradict his comrades. They used him for every service; they demanded everything of him, because he was more afraid of the bad opinions of his companions than of death itself… His was a miserable, weak soul. They recognized this, and on the basis of those qualities they made him first into a hero, and finally into a martyr. Although the cowardly man always said “no” inwardly, he always said “yes” with his lips, even on the scaffold, when he died for the views of his party. Next to him stood one of his old comrades, who tyrannized him so by word and glance that he really did suffer death in the most seemly way, and has since been celebrated as a martyr and a man of great character.”
Heroism, especially in our day of suicide bombers becoming the rule, rather than an exception, raises the question of whether indeed it comes from inner strength, or from the exact kind of weakness described by Nietzsche here. I would venture to suggest that among these men and women we could find a few who are doing this out of sheer heroism (wherever such is their way of fighting against the injustices done to their respective nations, in which case their martyrdom becomes an expression of patriotism, that is, upholding the perceived interests of their nations above the value of their own lives), but an overwhelming majority of these martyrs are committing such acts apparently for the reasons noted by Nietzsche, especially among those martyrs, whose nation is not directly affected by an occupation, or a similar abuse on the part of their enemies.
Is genius a hero? The last time we talked about genius, we have concluded that there is a certain connection here, although, perhaps, not all that obvious. There are certain types and instances of genius, which instantly qualify as bona fide heroes in the traditional sense, but, on the other hand, there are those who cannot be so identified without some special qualification. Bach was a genius, but his life seems far from being heroic. In another example, Leibniz was a bona fide genius, yet in life an unpleasant, perhaps, even a petty man, as far from being a hero as one can imagine. So, what is the verdict?
Realizing the acute exceptionality of genius, it is, probably, necessary to expand the common understanding of the heroic, in order to put the sign of equivalency between the two. After all, the superhuman drive which characterizes genius (remember the previously quoted spectacular definition of genius, in the Last Words of Lord Edward George Bulwer-Lytton: "Genius does what it must, and talent does what it can!!!") is in itself an indication that genius and the heroic are inextricably related. Archimedes was a genius of science, but not a recognizable hero until the moment of his death, when he showed his fearlessness of physical extinction, but defended his compulsion to finish the work that he had been doing at the time.
Thus I am certain that any genius under the appropriate circumstances will perforce reveal his heroic nature, and it is only the question of whether such circumstances present themselves or not. To make this even more clear, every genius carries within him the seed of the heroic, and just like with any genuine hero his heroism is revealed when, and only when, if at all, the circumstances dictate it.
The Making Of A Hero.
Having talked a lot about heroes in this section, it is time for us to let the Advocatus Diaboli take the floor.
They say that one man’s terrorist is another man’s hero. But is martyrdom of a hero a sign of his strength or his weakness? This is not just a crass question, intended to shock, rather than inviting to think. Here is one of Nietzsche’s perhaps profoundest insights into human nature (Menschliches, 73):
“The martyr against his will.--- In one party, there was a man who was too anxious and cowardly ever to contradict his comrades. They used him for every service; they demanded everything of him, because he was more afraid of the bad opinions of his companions than of death itself… His was a miserable, weak soul. They recognized this, and on the basis of those qualities they made him first into a hero, and finally into a martyr. Although the cowardly man always said “no” inwardly, he always said “yes” with his lips, even on the scaffold, when he died for the views of his party. Next to him stood one of his old comrades, who tyrannized him so by word and glance that he really did suffer death in the most seemly way, and has since been celebrated as a martyr and a man of great character.”
Heroism, especially in our day of suicide bombers becoming the rule, rather than an exception, raises the question of whether indeed it comes from inner strength, or from the exact kind of weakness described by Nietzsche here. I would venture to suggest that among these men and women we could find a few who are doing this out of sheer heroism (wherever such is their way of fighting against the injustices done to their respective nations, in which case their martyrdom becomes an expression of patriotism, that is, upholding the perceived interests of their nations above the value of their own lives), but an overwhelming majority of these martyrs are committing such acts apparently for the reasons noted by Nietzsche, especially among those martyrs, whose nation is not directly affected by an occupation, or a similar abuse on the part of their enemies.
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