The title of this entry is an
obvious allusion to Hegel’s Phenomenology
of Spirit. As I often do these
days, I am leaving the task of improving it to a
future consideration.
***
Nietzsche’s early work The
Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music (1872) with its “latter-day” Preface (1886) already occupies a
separate entry Health, Tragedy And Laughter, which follows. Yet the
importance of this work apparently requires more than one entry to do it
justice. Not that my effort to date has done the said justice to it, but at
least I am moving in that direction.
In several of my philosophical entries, such as, say, Reason And
Passion, I have been promoting the proposition that the rational and the
irrational do not exclude each other, nor subjugate each other, depending on
the circumstances, but have a mutually complementary relationship, being
impoverished and devalued by each other’s absence. Although Nietzsche never
puts it in such terms, his train of thought here is along the same line, as he
traces the evolution of the Greek Tragedy, not satisfied with staying
confined to antiquity, but continuing this history through contemporary times.
The two principal actors in
Nietzsche’s story are Apollo and Dionysus, that is, Reason and Passion, in my
explanatory lexicon. In the beginning of Greek art was Apollo (Reason), and his
isolation from his antipodal companion of a later day made him naïve and
superficial. In other words, the god of light and art was not very artistic by
himself. Then came Dionysus (Passion), and the Greek Drama of Aeschylus and Sophocles was born. The
next move was the seduction of Euripides by the rationalism of Socrates,
robbing Apollo of his Dionysus and thus undermining the precious marriage for
the next two millennia plus, until a great artist of the future (Richard
Wagner?) restored Dionysus into the neat family picture with Apollo.
So, here is, in my reasonable
understanding, a whole phenomenology of reason, a contemptible bachelor by
himself, yet a happily married genius when married to the irrational. True,
Nietzsche disguises this thought in the elaborate and basically idiosyncratic
setting of the history of the Greek theater, but such is my obstinate
interpretation, and, for the purpose of this discussion, I stand by it.
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