Becoming Nietzsche’s Madman

Most people have heard the adage, “The pen is mightier than the sword,” and there’s no getting around it: words have incredible power. But what sets apart timeless literature from the average novel? What is it about great works that touches a vein and lights a path for cultural shifting? Famous philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche provides an excellent example of words that change culture in his short story, “The Parable of the Madman.” Through crafting strong pictures, inviting a contemplation of consequences, and framing his story as a question, Nietzsche created a work that changed the face of modern religion.

Image

From the start, Nietzsche uses image-laden words. A word like madman conjures up a strong image, and Nietzsche defines the specifics of this picture very clearly. The madman he paints is one of absurdity, a person who lights a lantern in the daylight, who is neither deranged nor foaming at the mouth, but merely irrational. The madman is nonthreatening to the reader, which enables the reader to enter into the story without fear.

And then Nietzsche brings up God. The word God is much more nebulous and abstract than madman, implying very different ideas depending on the reader’s religion. “Wither is God?” the madman asks, and then answers, “I will tell you. We have killed him.” And with that, no matter how vague or variegated the images of God may have been, Nietzsche has just shattered them all. Because one of the basic concepts of most religions is that gods ought to be unkillable.

Nietzsche moves straight from killing to murder—another power word—and then begins an onslaught of cataclysmic word pictures: “The sponge to wipe away the entire horizon . . . we unchained the earth from its sun.” And then, perhaps his most vivid picture: “Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead.” With sights, sounds, and smells that play harshly on our senses, Nietzsche lays out a stark illustration.

Consequence

The implementation of consequence into the parable is one of Nietzsche’s strongest choices. Like every great dystopian story, he shows a glimpse of what could be—or what will be. Nietzsche wrote to a culture that was increasingly empirical. Science and scientific fact were on the rise as authority for truth, clashing with religious tradition. The catastrophes Nietzsche describes are the ultimate “if-then” of theological debate: the removal of God. “Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing?” In this void, “must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?”

And yet, beyond the dark terms he uses, he adds on a sense of inevitability. This insurmountable murder was destined to happen, has already happened, is unavoidably happening. The madman says, “This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering . . . the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard.” In his conclusion, Nietzsche perpetuates the idea that all is already done, and that the churches are merely “tombs and sepulchers of God,” though the faithful do not yet see it.

Question

Perhaps the most integral technique Nietzsche employs is his use of questioning. Over half of the story’s lines are questions of some sort, triggering the reader’s brain to attempt to answer them or wonder at the answer: “Whither is God?” “How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?” “Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us?” This querying method draws the reader into Nietzsche’s ultimate question: Is God dead? The rhythm of curious doubting that drives the story also set the tone for the reader to interpret it. Is? What if? What then?

Nietzsche uses the questions to meet his readers in their hesitancy. In his time, declaring God dead is a nerve-wracking leap out of the known sphere of belief. Any proposal of the sort would have immediately sparked a flood of questions in the reader, but by stating the questions himself, Nietzsche usurps the power to address and bypass the problem. In phrasing the questions, he sets the tone and creates a progression of thought. First, he asks, “How did we do this?” admitting the implausibility that would have immediately struck his audience. He moves on to, “Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing?” addressing the consequences without ever answering his first question, but with a transition that makes it seem both logical and plausible. And finally, he concludes, “Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it” Again, this inference seems to follow from the prior statement. By forming a chain of questions, he reaches the conclusion that man must become his own God in what seems like a valid chain of thought without ever having to answer the original question: is God dead? As Nietzsche masterfully sidesteps their doubts, he leaves the reader with the impression that atheism is a rational and well considered reality.

Follow-through

Image, consequence, and questions all cohere as a triumvirate catalyzing change. The images and questions, so clear and iconic that they seep into the readers mind, force the reader to interact, in some small way, with the text. The focus on consequence, again, as a question, sparks the reader’s imagination and predictive brain functions. Holistically, the work leaves the audience in a state of uncertainty. Is it really true? Could it really happen? Are we really there? And therein lies its power, because the questions and choices of today direct the world of tomorrow. Writers who can infuse their thoughts into the minds of the populace hold the power to shape the future.