In the last seventh book of the Harry
Potter series, the Elder Wand is the symbol of ultimate power, and
its possession has been sought by all wizards--- the best and the worst--- as a
natural expression of the ultimate Nietzschean Wille zur Macht. Applying
this to Schopenhauer, we might even say that the denial of the last bastion of
pure will, this Wille zur Macht, is the denial of the will as such, the
denial of Heldenleben, and--- heroically speaking--- the denial
of life and an embrace of nothingness.
So, here is Harry:
‘And
then there’s this.’ Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Ron and Hermione looked
at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state,
Harry did not like to see.
“I
don’t want it,” said Harry. “What?” said Ron loudly. “Are you mental?”
…“That
wand is more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry, “And honestly… I’ve had
enough trouble for a lifetime.”
…Try to enter “life,”
instead of “wand,” in the last sentence, and you will know exactly what
I mean!
The conclusion of Jenseits-47 asks
the question why the Saint phenomenon is so interesting to men of all
types, including philosophers. Once again I must interject that the line
between the hero and the saint, in this case too, is awfully
thin, and the following passage proves it:
“Let us
ask what precisely about this whole phenomenon of the saint has seemed so
enormously interesting to men of all types and ages, even to philosophers.
Beyond any doubt, it was the air of the miraculous that goes with it, namely,
the immediate succession of the opposites, of the states of the soul,
which are judged morally in opposite ways. It seemed palpable that a bad man
was suddenly transformed into a saint, good man. The psychology that
we have had so far suffered shipwreck at this point: wasn’t this chiefly
because it had placed itself under the dominion of morals, because it, too, believed
in opposite moral values, and saw and read and interpreted these
opposites into the text and the facts? What? The miracle merely a
mistake of interpretation? A lack of philology?”
No, I would hardly call it a
lack of philology, except if the philologist is a heartless dried-up
scientist, who stays unmoved and uninfluenced by the air of the miraculous,
which is always present around both heroes and saints. Both give rise to
mythologies, legends, and cultural traditions, based not so much on facts as on
beliefs, and these beliefs are forever imbued with morality and with the
acceptance of the ‘supernatural’ as these exceptional men’s way of life. (Up to
this day, the presence of supernatural occurrences has been the necessary
qualifying condition for the canonization of saints by the Roman Catholic
Church! I am somehow convinced that in all these cases, where sainthood has
been conferred on post-Biblical historical candidates, we have been looking
each time at mythological, not objectively historical situations
and circumstances.)
As for the “miraculous”
transformation of a bad man into a good man, this usually happens to both
heroes and saints. Take the perfectly “factual” case of Napoleon. At the time
of his death he was the most vilified villain known to the world, but his
legend had already been working miracles for him, and-- lo and behold!-- a
couple of decades later he would become universally accepted as France’s
greatest hero, and one of the greatest heroes who ever lived… Was this miracle
“merely a mistake of interpretation?” I do not think so. “A lack
of philology?” Melior ancora!
The End.
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