






































 ó 


Nietzsche's Rejection of Wagner: 
Aesthetics, Ethics, and Politics 

William F. Byrne 
The Catholic University of America 

Nietzsche's late anti-Vvagner tracts receive little attention from political sci­
Cilfists, yet they offer important insights into Nietzsche's philosophical thought 
ami into the relationship of art to political behavior. For Nietzsche, both the 
lilli/antic and the 'Christian' elements vf Wuxner'tj vpnutj embudy 1lie 'slave 
morality' that is characteristic of modernity. 'Decadent' art like Wagner's tends 
10 deaden the listener to the moral demands of real life, and instead promotes a 
longing for a transfigured exterior world. This can be manifested politically in 
the form of ideological movements that aim to destroy the old order and erect a 
11t'W utopian order in its place. In these writings Nietzsche positions himself 
auainst expansive romanticism and nihilism, and emerges as a surprisingly strong 
dassieist, albeit an unconventional one. 

Relationships between great minds are always of interest to scholars, 
and that between Friedrich Nietzsche and Richard Wagner is of more 
interest than most because it wat; t;O intent;e, 1:iU well documenLed, and 
marked by such a dramatic reversal. While as a young man Nietzsche 
practically worshipped Wagner, he later came to despise the man and 
his romantic operas. Nietzsche not only included derogatory remarks 
about Wagner in several of his later works, but also took the extraordi­
nary step of writing two polemical pieces directed specifically against 
Wagner, his operas, and his influence: The Case of Wagner and Nietzsche 
(ontra Wagner. While a considerable body of literature exists on the 
Nietzsche-Wagner relationship, relatively little serious philosophical at­
tention has been devoted to these two late works. However, an analysis 
of them reveals that despite their polemical style, their lack of structure, 
,md their narrow fUl:u1:i OIl Wagller, lhese shorl books are rich in philo­
sophical content. Indeed, because they are directed at the specific 1/ con­
crete" problem of Wagner in considerable detail, they provide a unique 
window into Nietzsche's thought that complements his broader philO­
sophical writings. 

-Political theorists in particular (and, in fact, political scientists gener­
ally) can benefit from the study of these two neglected works because in 
them Ni~tzsche offers important insights into the relationship of aesthet­
ics to ethics and politics. Nietzsche believed that Wagner's work pm­
bodied a particular form of morality characteristic of modernity, and that 
the. moral framework fostered in part by his influence tended to shape 
society and politics in particular wayt;. Specifically, Nielzsche seems to 

1 



have seen in Wagner's work, and in modern romantic and sentimental 
art generally, the seeds of the kinds of ideological mass movements that 
would arise in the early twentieth century. This is not because he be­
lieved that these works expressed specific political or ideological views, 
but because they somehow embodied a "decadent" morality that would 
en,courage individuals to embrace particular types of politics. Nietzsche's 
umlen;ldlLuillg uf how ad can serve as a kind of driver for morality and, 
consequently, for political behavior, has enduring value and demands 
the attention of political theorists today. 

To develop a better understanding of Nietzsche's views on art, mo­
rality, and politics, this article will explore some of the philosophical con­
tent of The Case of Wagner and Nietzsche contra Wagner. (Although the 
latter was billed as a compilation of remarks from various earlier works, 
it actually incorporates a considerable amount of new or modified mate­
rial.) Preceding this examination will be a brief treatment of Nietzsche's 
early pro-Wagner views as expressed in The Birth of Tragedy and Richard 
Wagner in Bayreuth. The purpose of reviewing these works is not to offer 
anything like a full treatment uf Nidz,::H . .:he'b early aesthetic views bullo . 
provide a context for the rejection of Wagner that was to follow. 
Nietzsche's treatments of Wagner are as unsystematic as his more ex­
pressly philosophical works, but it will become evident that despite some 
noteworthy tensions Nietzsche remains reasonably consistent philosophi­
cally throughout his praise and condemnation of Wagner, although some 
maturation, refinement, and clarification of his thought are apparent. 

The bulk of Nietzsche's anti-Wagner remarks may be grouped into two 
broad areas: a narrower group of criticisms that directly reflect Nietzsche's 
rejection of Christianity and that focus on I Christian' elements in Wagner's 
operas, and a broader grouping of criticisms that focus on the romantic 
uimen:;iurlli uf Wagner's work Il will be demonstrated that Nietzsdle 
not only saw a very close relationship between romantic art and the llslave 
morality" he associated with Christianity, but that he was keenly aware 
of the political dangers which could arise trom this type of I romantic' 
morality. The Nietzsche that emerges here is a I classicist' of a sortl' and 
the peculiar brand of classicism that is so strongly evident in these anti­
Wagner works can be seen to permeate Nietzsche's philosophical thought . 

. Nietzsche's Embrace and Rejection of Wagner 

Most good biographical and general historical/ philosophical works 
on Nietzsche provide some treatment of his relationship with Richard 
Wagner. As a young man Nietzsche became captivated with Wagner's 
music, and upon meeting Wagner he became captivated with the man as 
well and grew very close to him. While the literature suggests that per-

2 



~;onalities were probably the most important factor in the intensity of their 
n:'lationship, it is also clear that a philosophical dimension was present 
from the beginning. For one thing, when they met both men were very 
interested in Schopenhauer, although Nietzsche would soon begin to 
move away from him More importantly, Wagner's music and Hbrettos 
~parked Nietzsche's interest in the morat philosophical, and psychologi­
cal dimensions of art, and Nietzsche found Wagner's writings on aes­
thetics useful (Hollingdale 1965, 60). As for Nietzsche's later rejection of 
Wagner, much of the scholarly speculation has focused on Nietzsche's 
later psychological state and on various aspects of his personal relation­
!,hips with Wagner and his wife. In addition, some scholars such as Walter 
Kaufmann point to alarm on Nietzsche's part at Wagner's increasingly 
public role in promoting anti-Semitism and German imperialism, al­
though Nietzsche mentions these concerns only in passing (Kaufmann 
]974,38). In Nietzsche's own view, however, the basis for his rejection of 
Wagner was largely philosophical. The biographer RJ. Hollinen81f' ;:)r­
gues that Wagner's influence had essentially led Nietzsche astray and 
contributed to some confusion in his early philosophy, and that in reject­
ing Wagner Nietzsche was coming into his own (Hollingdale 1965, 78). 
Thus, an exploration of some of the philosophical bases for Nietzsche's 
reversal highlights important aspects of his mature thought. 

In Richard Wagner in Bayreuth Nietzsche heaps praise upon Wagner 
and closely associates his operas with the best of classical Greek tragedy. 
Nietzsche had already dedicated to Wagner his early work The Birth of 
Tragedy, in which he attempts to explain the nature and value of Greek 
tragedy. In that book Nietzsche identifies and describes the two elements 
that he believes characterize great tragic works, thf' "Apol1onian" and 
"Dionysian," and he associates these elements with 1/ dream and intoxi­
cation" respectively (Nietzsche 1872, 19). The Apollonian is associated 
with visual imagery, symbols, an elevating sense of order: " ... Apollo 
himself may be regarded as the marvelous divine image of the principium 
individuationis, whose looks and gestures radiate the full delight, wis­
dom, and beauty of 'illusion'" (Nietzsche 1872, 22). In contrast, the 
Dionysian element shatters the principium individuationis in an ecstatic 
awareness of life: "50 'stirred, the individual forgets himself completely" 
(Nietzsche 1872, 22). The Dionysian dimension reflects the fact that one 
has st:;en, and in a sense one has embraced and been swept up in, all of 
life, including violence and the inevitability of one's own death. Accord­
ing to Tracy Strong, '''Dionysian' appears to be identified not with the 
chaos, but rather with knowledge ... of the chaos and of the artifice of 
human life and importance," and it "sees through the illusion that pro­
vides form and definition of the culture" (Strong 1975, 140-141). The 
Dionysian offers vitality to the Apollonian element; it represents reality 

3 



in rl way that the concepts evoked by Apollonian II dream" and "illusion" 
cannot. The Apollonian makes possible individuation, order, and the 
creation of beauty, and provides a kind of counter-balance to the 
Dionysian. For Nictzschc, all art, to be great, must possess properly de­
veloped Apollonian and Dionysian elements, in proper balance. Although 
the two elements are equally important, what is most often missing in 
what passes for I art' today is the Dionysian element. While Nietzsche 
does not quite explicitly use the Apollonian-Dionysian formula in his 
pro-Wagner Bayreuth essay, it is plainly evident that he finds both ele­
ments to be properly present in Wagnerian opera. The libretto and stag­
ing are primarily associated with the ApollOnian dimension, while the 
most crucial elempnt, Wrlgnpr's music, represents the Dionysian. 

Nietzsche recognizes man's existence as inevitably tragic. One com-
mentator explains that 

the know-ledge that W"e need to knoW" the essence the perma­
nent thing-m-itself "behind" the appearances-to make life in­
telligible and meaningful to us and the concomitant knowl­
edge that we cannot possibly know such an essence make our 
existence contradictory and therefore tragic. Resignation and 
Dionysian pessimism are the only two possible responses to 
this existential tension of the human condition, once it is rec­
ognized. The latter is an artistic affirmation in tragic music and 
nrama of the transient and ultimately unknowable character 
of life, but also of its beauty and power. (Heilke 1998,56) 

The young Nietzsche finds that, like Greek tragedy, Wagner's operas 
feature great heroes involved in deeds ilnd events that strike at the core 
of one's life, and that in Wagnerian opera one is able to recognize oneself 
as a tragic character and thereby become ennobled. In the Bayreuth essay 
Nietzsche describes the effect of the "tragic" element that makes Wagner's 
work so valuable: 

With him we ascend to the topmost rung of sensibility and 
only there do we fancy we have returned to free nature and 
the realm of freedom; from this height we behold, as though 
in immense air-drawn reflections, our struggles, victories and 
defeats as something 'sublime and significant; we have delight 
in the rhythm of passion and in its victim, with every mighty 
step the hero takes we hear the dull echo of death and in its 
proximity we sense the supreme stimulus to life:-thus trans­
formed into tragic men we return to life in a strangely con­
soled mood, with a new feeling of security ... and in any event 
even nobler than we were before .... (Nietzsche 1876, 225) 

Tragedy elevates humanity by sharpening the struggles of life, giving 
them new meaning and allowing them to be seen from a fresh perspec-

4 



tiv!.'. The manner in that tragedy helps one to move through and beyond 
tllP struggles of existence, without rejecting them, suggests something of 
Nietzsche's later" overman" who continually /I overcomes himself" and 
"cr~ates beyond himself." By transforming us into "tragic men" vVagne­
I idn opera and classica1 Greek tragedy provide a kind of energizing ef­
!\'Cl, since through our experience of the Dionysian and our vicarious 
t'ncounter with death we "sense the supreme stimulus to life." The stimu­
itl<'; WP rpC'Pivp, moreover, is of the sort that connects us to life and helps 
llS to act in the world. As Nietzsche explains it, "the soul of music ... 
,;(·eks its path through all of you to visibility in movement, deed, struc­
ture and morality" (Nietzsche 1876, 217)! 

For Nietzsche, different kinds of art promote different types of char­
.ider. The right kind of art encourages us and enables us to take on the 
world. Nietzsche sharply contrasts this effect with that of typical J/mod­
\'rn art," that aims at "stupefaction or delirium! To put to sleep or to 
IIltoxicatel To silence the conscience, by one means or the other" 
(Nietzsche 1876, 220)! Instead of helping us become morally acute and 
ready for action, most nineteenth century art ,leads us away from au­
t'hpnhcity imd r:lway from action. It helps us to shut out the hard realities 
(){ life and to hide from ourselves and from any serious sense of respon­
J,jbilily; it represents an escape. This contrast between two kinds of aes­
thetics is an important part of Nietzsche's thought and it dominates all 
three of his essays on Wagner. Indeed, it becomes the pivot point for his 
ft'VersaJ on the question of the merit of Wagner's operas. Over time 
Nietzsche's conception of these two types of art changes only subtly in 
the abstract, but what happens in the process is that he reclassifies Wagner 
fnH11 the 'good art' to the 'bad art' category. 

In Nietzsche contra Wagner Nietzsche explains that he had previously 
mistaken Wagner's music" as the expression of a Dionysian powerfulness 
of soul1/ when in fact it was something very different. Using language 
sirnilar to that that he had used in Richard Wagner in Bayreuth, he de­
~ilTibes once again the two kinds of aesthetics, this time grouping Wagner 
with the 'wrong' kind of art: 

Every art, every philosophy may be regarded as a medi­
cine and a helping expedient of advancing or decaying life: 
they always presuppose suffering and sufferers. But there are 
two kinds of sufferers: on the one hand those suffering from 
the superabundance of life, who want a Dionysian art and simi-

. lady a tragic insight and prospect with regard to life,-and on 
the other hand those suffering from the impoverishment of life, 
who desire repose, stillness, smooth sea, or else ecstasy. con­
vulsion, intoxication furnished by art and philosophy. 
(Nietzsche 1895, 72) 

5 



Nietzsche has decided that Wagner 1 s art is "intoxicating," not 
lionysian. But on what basis has Nietzsche made this decision? And 
,hat, in fact, is the difference between the two concepts? We have seen 
1at in The Birth of Tragedy Nietzsche explicitly associated the Dionysian 
lement with "intoxication." Now intoxication appears to be exactly what 
.e is arguing against; is he reversing himself? Nietzsche is perhaps not 
ctually reversing himself, but a subtle shift has indeed occurred. He is 
mploying greater caution; he has become more keenly aware that all 
h.at is "intoxicating" is not Dionysian. In fact, Nietzsche has discovered 
h.at more often than not, that which is "intoxicating" produces an effect 
'ery different from the kind that he desires. One can, and indeed one 
oust, become intoxicated with life, but in most cases intoxication actu­
LIly represents a flight from life. Nietzsche therefore no longer under­
tands Wagner as an example of the best that art can offer, energizing 
md equipping us for life. Instead, Wagner's opera becomes the supreme 
~xample of "decadent" art, ~educing u~ in the manner of an "opiate," 
ieadening us to life. The remainder of this article will be devoted to 
~xploring philosophical dimensions of the distinctions Nietzsche makes 
Jetween these two kinds of art, as well as their moral and political impli­
:ations, while addressing the question of precisely why Nietzsche feels 
:ompelled to reject Wagner so vehemently. 

Rejecting Wagnerian Christianity 

For Nietzsche, the flight from life that is characteristic of modern cul­
ture manifests itself in Wagner's operas in various ways. One of the 
more obvious ways is in a fascination with the supernatural, and, more 
generally, in Wagner's expression of "Christianity." The extent to which 
Wagner's work is actually "Christian," as opposed to representing a mis­
use or perversion of Christianity, is open to question but is not a matter 
for discussion here; neither is the accuracy of Nietzsche's understanding 
of Christianity itself, as opposed to his treatment of what is offered by 
Wagner. What is important here is that the "Christian" dimension of 
Wagner's work is something that Nietzsche seizes upon repeatedly, and 
it is Wagner's last and most blatantly Christian work ParsifaL that pro·· 
vokes the strongest reaction from him: "I despise everyone who does 
not regard Parsifal as an outrage on morals" (Nietzsche 1895, 80). In­
deed, Nietzsche's final philosophical break with Wagner may have been 
precipitated by the appearance of this last opera. Pars~fal stands out since, 
while almost all of Wagner's operas incorporate some sort of a super­
natural element, it is focused on in Parsifal in a new way! as a conscious 
external force directing and controlling the action. 

The legendary title character may seem like an admirable hero; he 

6 



i\'lt3inly performs worthy deeds. His name, however, means "pure fooL" 
I hj~; fool performs feats that other men have been unable to accomplish, 
bringing salvation and relief to others. It had been foretold that only one 
\'vith exceptional innocence would be able to accomplish the task, and 
I '.Ilsifal fits the bill. When Parsifal first appears he actually comes across 
,I' .•. limost an idiot, displaying little comprehension of what is going on 
d rOlmd him. Over the course of the opera, however, he becomes "wise 
through compassion" as foretold, resists temptation, and, with some su­
pernatural assistance, performs noble deeds (Wagner 1938,429-430). Al­
though Parsifal demonstrates a certain amount of bravery and steadfast­
m'"s, one can see why he would be a particularly dIstasteful hero from 
Nietzsche's standpoint. For Parsifal begins his adventure as a foot and 
,1lhieves what he does in large part because he is a pawn of supernatural 
fllrces. A voice from the Holy Grail foretelling the arrival of Parsifal re­
h'rs to him as "my chosen tool" (Wagner 1938, 441). Instead of enno­
hling man, the story of Parsifa1 degr;:\c1es m;:\n hy highlighting his small­
lit"':;:' and impotence in the face of the supernatural and by belittling his 
,I( hit'vements. The greatest man cannot do deeds as great as those of a 
ttt\J\ chosen by God. Dy thus erasing the differences between men, Parsifal 
drags man down and appeals to the ressentiment that is characteristic of 
niOdem inverted morality. Indeed, it is the supernatural, and not Parsifal 
himseit, that dominates the opera. The Holy Grail IS featured promi­
twntly, blinding1y illuminated; a "halo of glory pours down over all" 
(Wagner 1938, 470); the Sacred Spear hovers magically; a castle collapses; 
,j white dove descends. At times the performers seem almost insignifi­
\ ,mt in comparison with the supernatural imagery. 

A flight to the supernahtral1~ .;:\!;~odMpd hy N1Ptzsche with an abdi­
calion of one's responsibility to live one's own life heroically in a world 
in which God is dead, and one can see in the elevation of the idiot Parsifal 
~ Jcmonstration of the inverted "Christian morality" or "slave moral 
ity" that Nietzsche opposes. Parsifal gains wisdom only through com­
pa~sion, and an emphasis on compassion in place of other virtues is of 
course associated by Nietzsche with slave morality. It is particularly sig­
njficant that Parsifal's primary assets are his natural innocence, chastity, 
~md purity; this amounts for Nietzsche to a rejection of life. He main­
ti1ins that "Parsifal is a work of cunning, of revengefulness, of secret poi­
son-brewing, hostile to the pre-requisites of life; a bad work. -The preach­
ing of chastity is ;m incitement to anti-naturalness./t (Nietzsche 1895, 80). 
If Parsifal's good qualities are supposed to be natural, why does the op­
t'ra represent an "incitement to anti-naturalness"? Because in Nietzsche's 
view such "Christian" virtues are not "natural." As will be discussed 
later, despite his own occasional praise of the "natural" Nietzsche was 
opposed to the romantic idealization of nature and to what it implies. 

7 



The language Nietzsche uses to denounce Pa"s~fal sets up obvious ten­
sions with elements of Nietzsche's earlier praise of Wagner. For exampie, 
the young Nietzsche had remarked: 

In the Ring des Nibelungen I discover the most moral music 
I know, for example when Brunnhilde is awoken by Siegfried; 
here he attains to an elevation and sanctity of mood that makes 
us think of the glowing ice-and snow-covered peaks of the Alps, 
so pure, solitary, inaccessible, chaste and bathed in the light of 
love does nature appear here; clouds and storms, even the sub­
lime itself, are beneath it. (Nietzsche 1876, 202) 

Here Nietzsche embraced the Ilpure" and" chaste"; why does he now 
deride it? He has become more sensitive to the fact that purity and chas­
tity come in different forms. A kind of 'purity' and I chastity' can exist in 
the overman who has embraced life to the fullest,; they become a part of 
his nature. More often, however, purity and chastity represent a kind of 
denial of life, and are something externally imposed against one's na­
ture. II is significant that it is Wagner's Freachi1lg of chastity to which 

, Nietzsche takes exception; to him this reflects a form of hypocrisy or bad 
faith. Moreover, the innocence of Parsifal may be contrasted with the 
'innocence' of Nietzsche's overman. '10 achieve the overman's kind of 
innocence one must first confront a world without absolutes and take on 
complete responsibility for one's life. That is, one must in a sense over­
come both one's own impulses and the world's conventions and move 
through it all to a new kind of innocence. As Zarathustra says, one must 
become a camel and a lion and then a child (Nietzsche 1883-1892, 55). In 
contrast, Parsifal was never anything but a child, and his innocence, like 
that of a child, is the innocence of one who has never assumed real re­
sponsibilily and is incapable of doing so. In celebrating the innocence of 
Parsifal, Wagner is celebrating an unthinking, unreflective kind of exist­
ence. This is not the life of the overman but that of Nietzsche's "last 
man." 

A tension in Nietzsche's thought is also highlighted by his explicit 
rejection of Wagner's focus on the "transcendent" or on anything exter­
nal to oneself. The earlier Nietzsche of Richard Wagner in Bayreuth main­
tained that if tragedy is to serve its function of helping one to achieve a 
new perspective and overcome oneself, it must help one look beyond 
oneself: 

The individual must be consecrated to something higher 
lhan himself-that is the meaning of tragedy; he must be free 
of the terrible anxiety which death and time evoke in the indi­
vidual: for at any moment, in the briefest atom of his life's 
course, he may encounter something hOly that endlessly out­
weighs all his struggle and all his distress-this is what it means 

8 



to have a sense for the tragic; all the ennoblement of mankind is 
enclosed in this supreme task .... (Nietzsche 1876, 213) 

Clearly Nietzsche here sees a dedication to something beyond one-
that is, a kind of reverence, as a path to ennoblement. In this work 

It\' h(:~izes upon the theme of "selfless loyalty" as fulfilling this function. 
Lh·votion to something, in this case loyalty, so complete that one may be 
willing to sacrifice one's life or hopes, serves to help one to overcome 
uDeself in a way that is vaguely like that of the later overman; it is enno­
hling. Something almost religious appears to be going on here. Indeed, 
Nietzsche states approvingly that loyalty "it; the most personal primal 
('vent that Wagner experiences and reveres like a religious mystery" 
(Nh,,~tzsche 1876, 203). Even at this stage Nietzsche rejects a supernatural 
I'i'illity and he is leery of "transcendence" or of reified abstract concepts 
(If any kind; consequently, he seizes on loyalty as an uplifting theme in 
Wagner. This is somewhat defensible since ,although 'loyalty' itself may 

an abstract concept, loyalty to a particular person is not; it is some­
thing that is expressed in concrete meaningful action. Nevertheless, the 
ilimost religious dimension of the devotion to loyalty, expressed with 
Nud1 words as "holy" and "consecrated/' seems like something that 
t>lmuld make Nietzsche uncomfortable. How the later Nietzsche thought 
"buut this particular issue it; undear, for he does not dit;t..:w;s it in hi::; anti­
WaKner tracts. Instead he focuses there on criticizing more explicit refer­
('!lees to some kind of "Absolute." However, it is clear that despite 
Nit'tzsche's rejection of the supernatural he never seems to relinquish 
tht' belief in the necessity forca sense of "something holy.'" After all, al­
though Zarathustra believes that God is dead, he is "the most pious of all 
those· who do not believe in God" (Nietzsche 1883-1892, 272). Zarathustra 
h (I friend to the unemployed pope, for he loves all pious men. Nietzsche 
,tOl'S not intend his pjety howpvprr to hp oirp('fpo tOWrlro ,~ rpifipo f'xtpr­
H,d Absolute; one might say that it reflects an awesome reverence for 
nhm's responsibility and for the power of life. In Beyond Good and Evil 
Nietzsche maintains, "the noble soul has reverence for itself" (Nietzsche 
lMtl6, 256). In contrast, the piety of Wagner comes to be perceived by 
Nietzsche as directing one toward something external and away from 
11 f(i. Zarathustra's piety is the sort that highlights one's own responSibil­
ity, while Wagner's represents a flight away from responsibility. 

Another "Christian" element that is particularly prominent in Parsifal 
b the theme of salvation. Indeed, Wagner takes pains to highlight connec­
tions between the title character and Christ. Nietzsche, however, discov­
""j:; salvation to be a dominant theme not just in Parsifal but also in every 
one of Wagner's operas. Often, "salvation" takes on its religious, super­
lI.ltural form, but that is not always the case. In many operas various 
characters must be 'saved' in much more mundane ways, but for Nietzsd le 

9 



this is no better than a focus on Christian salvation. For him anv belief 
that one must be saved is a reflection of the life-denying slave mo~ality: 

The need of salvation . .. is the sincerest form of expression 
of decadence, the most convinced and most painful affirmation 
of it in sublime symbols and practices. The Christian wishes 
to get loose from himself .... Noble morality, master morality, 
has, reversely, its roots in a triumphing self-affirmation, -it is 
the self-affirming, the self-glorifying of life; it equally needs 
sublime symbols and practices, but only "because its heart is 
too full." (Nietzsche 1888, 56) 

If one desires to be saved, one desires to escape one's present life 
through the action of another. This is true whether the salvation involves 
one's immortal soul or whether it involves more mundane aspects of 
one's life. Such a desire signals an unwillingness to embrace life as it 
actually exists or to take full responsibility for leading one's own life; it is 
a kind of giving up, a surrender to an escapist mentality. A better under­
standing of Nietzsche's view of this mentality, and why he believes it to 
be present in some forms of art and not in others, will be pursued in the 
next section. The political significance of this mentality will be discussed 
in the section thereafter. 

Rejecting Wagnerian Romanticism 

In The Case of Wagner Nietzsche returns to the discussion of the two 
types of art, explaining that 

every age has in its quantum of energy, a quantum determin­
ing what virtues are permitted to it, what virtues are proscribed. 
It has either the virtues of ascending life, ... or it is itself an 
epoch of descending life, and then it requires the virtues of 
decline, then it hates all that justifies itself solely by plenitude, 
by superabundance of strength. Aesthetics is indissolubly 
bound up with these biological presuppositions: there is a deca­
dence deslhet1I.:::', i::tlul there .it:; clu::;::;icul destlu~tks . . .. In the 
narrower sphere of so-called moral values there is no greater 
cOFltrast than that of master morality and morality according to 
Christian valuation. . .. The former communicates to things 
out of its fulness-it glorifies, it embellishes, it rationalises the 
world, the latter impoverishes, blanches, and mars the value 
of things, it denies the world. (Nietzsche 1888, 54-55) 

This passage, similar to a passage that appears in the "What is Ro­
manticism?" aphorism of The Gay Science, is particularly important be­
cause it clearly links Nietzsche's views on aesthetics with his critique of 
Christian morality. The contrast between Christian morality and 

10 



Nidzsche's own morality is seen by Nietzsche as essentially a special 
I..be of the contrast between the modern aesthetics of Wagnerian roman­
ticism (here called "decadence aesthetics") and classical aesthetics. In 
Niftz,sche contra Wagner the Christian is in fact identified as a "species of 
~picurean" that Nietzsche sees as the antithesis of a "Dionysian Greek" 
(Nit·tzsche 1895, 73). For Nietzsche, ethics and aesthetics are of course 
Intimately related and could even be considered indistinguishable. There­
fure it should not be surprising that Nietzsche's condemnation of the 
"slave morality" present in Wagner's work is manifest in large part in 
.I! tacks on Wagner's brand of romantic aesthetics. In the process of mak­
ing these attacks Nietzsche appears to embrace classical aesthetics to a 
"h'gf'ee that may seem surprising, given what one may consider to be its 
l'\'slrictive and limiting nature. One might think that it would be classi­
(\\1 aesthetics that Nietzsche would associate with Christian morality and 
with the denial of life, and that he would associate expansive Wagnerian 
Jnrnnnticism with aI/superabundance of strength" and with that which 
ilglorifies" and "embellishes" the world. But in his anti-Wagner essays 
Ni{-'t2Schc paints pictures of Wagner's art that at times read like the most 
hMd-core classicist's disparagement of romanticism: 

French Romanticism and Richard Wagner are very c10sely 
connected .... altogether fanatics of expression, great discov­
erer in the domain of the sublime, also of the loathsome and 
the shocking, still greater discoverer in effect, in display, ... 
with dismal access to everything that seduces, allures, forces, 
or upsets, born enemies of logic and the straight line, covetous 
of the foreign, the exotic, the monstrous, and all opiates of the 
senses and understanding. On the whole, a rashly-venhlIing, 
magnificently violent, high-flying, and high up-pulling kind 
of artists .... (Nietzsche 1895, 76-77) 

Like a good classicist, Nietzsche complains that Wagner's music pos­
~1'NSt'S "chaos in place of rhythm" and "just seeks to break up all symme­
try of measure and intensity" (Nietzsche 1895, 68). Wagner promotes 
<i an ever greater indifference to all severe, noble conscientious training 
in the service of art; the belief in genius substituted for it ... " (Nietzsche 
lMMH,44-45). Wagner's style, like most of modern culture, is "decadent"; 
Lhis decadence is characterized in part by a lack of harmonious order; 
"the whole has ceased to live together" (Nietzsche 1888, 25). 'Wagner has 
llt'rnonstrated that he is not a true musician by "abandoning all lawful­
ness and-to speak more definitively-all style in music ... " (Nietzsche 
HU~8F 29) 

Is there a sound philosophical basis for Nietzsche's embrace of classi­
cal aesthetics and rejection of romanticism, or does he turn to the classic­
versus-romantic argument just because Wagner is a romantic and this 

11 



line of argument is therefore an easy way to denigrate him? While 
Nietzsche's personal feelings toward Wagner may be partly responsible 
for the intensity of his rush to classicism, Nietzsche's classicism is also 
integral to his philosophical thought. For, as other commentators on ro­
manticism have observed, classical aesthetics can have the effect of an­
choring one in reality and equipping one for action in the world, while 
romanticism often tends to take one out of the world and to hinder moral 
action (Babbitt 1919). If there is one thing to which Nietzsche is opposed 
it is to Sl1ch Fl disconnection. Contrasting Wagner with Bizet Nietzsche 
says "Bizet makes me productive. All that is good makes me productive. 
I have no other ... proof of what is good" (Nietzsche 1888, 7). 

An appreciation of Nietzsche's embrace of classicism becomes par­
ticularly important when one considers his conception of the overman. 
The "self-overcoming" of the overman is in Nietzsche's view something 
very different from romantic expansiveness or unleashed passion. It is 
true that the overman does not embrace conventions and that in a sense 
he makes his own morality. However, the overman is also something of 
a well-ordered soul in the classical tradition, and he is keenly aware of 
his responsibility for 'moral' action of a sort. Since the overman is the 
opposite of a slave, he certainly cannot be a slave to his passions any 
more than he can be a slave to other men. He does not reject his instincts, 
urges, and passions, but he accepts them in such a manner in which they 
constitute him without controlling him. Only a well-ordered soul has a 
hope of doing this, and becoming a well-ordered soul is accomplished in 
part through a dose of classical :restraint. This means that, even though 
one does not become a slave to convention, one make~ the ~pirit uf lhe 

classical tradition one's own. Citing two passages contained in The Will 
to Power, Kaufmann observes that 

Nietzsche is not exhorting the mass of men to renounce tradi­
tional restraints. He denounces what he considers Wagner's 
typically romantic libertinism ... and he writes: " ... there is 
nothing romantic about greatness of soul." "Greatness of soul" is 
a translation of Aristotle's megalopsychia. And ... Aristotle's 
conception apparently made a tremendous impression on 
Nietzsche, whose opposition to Christianity can scarcely be 
seen in proper perspective apart from Aristotle's ethics. 
(Kaufmann 1974,382) 

As the literary scholar Irving Babbitt describes it, the classicist em­
braces decorum since" decorum is for the classicist the grand master-piece 
to observe because it is only thus he can show that he has a genuine cen­
tre set above his own ego" (Babbitt 19191 265). This may help explain 
classicism's attraction for Nietzsche. Even though he emphatically re­
jects any focus on the supernatural or other externals, Nietzsche seems to 

12 



that one still needs some kind of a II genuine centre set above his 
{"(Vn ego." This can be seen in his early interest in a devotion to "selfless 
~v;dtY/" in the "pious" nature of Zarathustra, and in the contrast between 

overman and the "last man," who may be seen as characterized in 
! by a profound lack of piety or reverence toward anything. Nietzsche 

of course, a classical philologist by training and profession, and he 
have seen in the classical embrace of decorum a path toward order, 

,lt~discipline, and a kind of' elevation' of life in the face of the abyss. He 
must reject the romantic Wagnerian approach since it rejects decorum and 

one without any sound basis for ordering one's life. 
While Nietzsche's expressed anti-romanticism is undeniable, the ex­

If lit tu which he can be considered a classicist may be subject to debate. 
~tzsche himself declined to label himself a classicist, but his reasons do 

nBt appear to reflect major differences in approach. In The Gay Science, 
11'1' identifying and denouncing "romantic pessimism," he adds this 

pMt'l1thetical note: "That there still could be an' altogether different kind 
pC~lsimism, a classical type; ... only the word "classical" offends my 

.'ciHH, it is far too trite and has become round and indistinct. I call this 
p.';"-imism of the future ... Dionysian pessimism" (Nietzsche 1882, par. 

The term "classicism" had become "trite" and '"indistinct" because 
the prevalence of various forms of neoclassicism that represented ei­

a rigid, formal adherence to the external forms of Greek classicism,. 
tot' n kind of romanticism that looked back to classical Greece in a manner 
)\Jmi!nr to that in which romanticism looks back to the Middle Ages. In 

case the truly classical spirit in the best sense was missing. Nietzsche 
not reject this spirit but embraced it; he rejected the term J classical' 
because he could not abide its misuse. Of course, Nietzsche's 'clas­

",\.>""" is by no means identical with traditional classicism as it is usually 
un\'lt~rstood, for Nietzsche rejects any ontological or metaphysical frame-

that presumes the existence of an ordered cosmos. One could per­
say that to a significant degree Nietzsche'S overall project repre­

',.'nh an attempt to capture the best of the classical spirit and to derive its 
"Hlul"ordering benefits without reference to an ordered universe. 

flow exactly for Nietzsche, does the conflict between Wagnerian ro-
Hi.mti(,: aesthetics and classical aesthetics tie to that between "Christian" 

morality and master morality? Nietzsche tells us that 1Nagner 
tlatters every nihilistic (Buddhistic) instinct and disguises it in 
music .... [E]verything that has grown up on the soil of impov­
erished life, the entire false coinage of transcendence and an 
other world, has in Wagner's art its sublimest advocate-not 
in formulae (Wagner is too prudent to use formulae) but in its 
persuaSIOn of sensuality, which, in its turn, again makes the 
mind tender and fatigued. (Nietzsche 1888, 46) 

13 



Nietzsche understands that art mav in fact be more effective than ex-
~ 

plidt doctrines or philosophical arguments in promoting a particular type 
of morality. The' escapist' quality of religion, expressed by Wagner in 
the "false coinage of transcendence and another worl.d," is mirrored by 
the escapist quality of "decadent" modern romanticism in general. The 
very "sensuality" of Wagner's work represents such escapism. Accord­
ing to Nietzsche, "Wagner never calculates as a musician from any kind 
of musical conscience; he wants effect, he wants nothing but effect" 
(Nietzsche 1888, 29). As a result, "Wagner's music is never true" 
(Nietzsche 1888, 30). Why is Wagner's music not "true"? Because in 
striving for" effect" Wagner is pursuing appearance rather than substance; 
he ends up mixing noble imagery with "slave morality." His sensuality 
is not the sort that connects one with life or helps one to experience real­
ity, but that serves as a diversion, a tonic. In contrast, Nietzsche argues 
that when he listens to Bizet's Carmerz "I become a better man" because 
Bizet's work is straightforward and "without counterfeit coinage;" it 
avoids cheap sentimentality and "takes the auditor for an intelligent be­
ing" (Nietzsche 1888, 6). With Wagner, one does not need to confront the 
facts of life. One need only experience pleasant, thrilling, or uplifting 
sensations and thereby escape from the realities of life. Therefore, the 
"decadent" ::;emmali::;t ullilIlald y denIes the world just as much as does 
one who looks to the transcendent. 

Since Nietzsche criticizes Wagner's work for the manner in which his 
opera takes one out ot the real world, It IS not surprising that he speaks 
derisively of its 'uplifting' quality: "Let us walk above the clouds, let us 
harangue the infinite, let us surround ourselves with grand symbols" 
(Nietzsche 1888, 22)! Of course, it has already been shown that in his 
earlier pro-Wagner essay Nietzsche had used similar language to sing 
Wagner's praises. At that time Nietzsche praised Wagner because the 
elevating and sanctifying of man (or at least of some men) was what 
Nietzsche was fighting for. The later Nietzsche is still, in a sense, fight­
ing for thi::>. H~ has, l~owever, realized that what Wagner offered was not 
really a path to humanity's ennoblement. What changed was Nietzsche's 
realization that the "elevation and sanctity of mood" offered by Wagner 
was, ·in fact, nothing but that: a "mood." While the characters and deeds 
of the Scandinavian legends may be noble in themselves, Wagner does 
not present them in a manner that is particularly conducive to their use 
as models for noble action in the real world. The emphasis is placed so 
strongly on feeling rather than on action that the opera is more likely to 
become an "opiate" that actually impairs one's ability to act in the world. 
In the Bayreuth essay Nietzsche recognized that Wagner's operas took 
one away from the mundane difficulties and trivialities of one's daily 
life, but he believed then that one felufneJ enelgized for action, trans-

14 



IlltTnl'd into a man" a perspective on one's own 
ruggles. When Nietzsche rejects Wagner he deddes that most men (and 
lInen, even more so!) return with a longing to recapture the way they 

Jvll during the performance but not with a will to truly heroic behavior 
I H 'l1lselves. Thus Nietzsche says of Wagner, "to look enviously towards 

l11'\~'ll'r morality, noble morality ... and at the same time to have in his 
1I11HIlJI lite conlrary doclline, lhe "Gospel of lhe Lowly/' Lhe need of sdl­

,Ilion! ... " (Nietzsche 1888, 55-56). Those who return from Wagner's 
\!1'1'rtls do not want to plunge into their lives but to be saved from them, 
! It ',lliened to them. In its effect, "Wagner's influence is like a continuous 

of alcohol" (Nietzsche 1888, 47). 
N idzsche originally took Wagner's operas to be something like Greek 

1!';i~Wdy in part because the heroic, the beautiful, and the ugly can be 
in both. Why does Nietzsche later come to believe that the effects of 

;/'t'I.,k tragedy and Wagnerian romanticism are so different? In T'wilight 

1111' Idols Nietzsche remarks, "What does the tragic artist communicate of 
Does he not display precisely the condition of fearlessness in the 

1"11' lIf llie fearsome dnd questionable?" (Nielzsche 1889, 92). Wagner's 
till tails to promote "fearlessness" because it is unwilling to confront 
hll11l'Stly lithe fearsome and questionable" in life; one does not gaze into 
th,' ,lbyss. Instead there is tlight either to an "Absolute,," which may be 
('Itill'!' explicit or vague, or to a kind of mindless sensation, or to some 
H 1\ III d Y combination of the two. In any case the result is a kind of I good 
IlTllIlg' that is unreflective, unearned, and empty. Of course, we have 
n'l\ that the flight to an Absolute and to unreflective sensation or feel-

M(' for Niflr7.~('hfl fl~~flnti<'ll1y thfl ~;::tmfl thine;. Hfl ()h;;flrVfl~ th<'lt 

it is not with music that Wagner has won the youth over to 
himself, it is with the "Idea": it is the mysteriousness of his 
dfl, its game of hide-and-seek among a hundred symbols, its 
polychromy of the ideal, which has led and allured these youths 
to Wagner! His Wagner's genius for forming clouds .... They 
hear with trembling how in his art the sublime symbols become 
dudible with gentle thunder out of the cloudy distance .... 
(Nietzsche 1888, 37-38) 

Nietzsche refers to Wagner as Hegel's heir. He tells us that Wagner 
·k.mH'd like Hegel that Germans love 'lithe Idea', that is to say, some­
dung nbscure, uncertain, mysterious; that among Gernnans clearness is 
,in objPction, and logic a disproof' (Nietzsche 1888, 36-37). God may be 

but Wagner is offering his followers the I Absolute' on the cheap. 
Jlhing need be dearly defined or ulLderslandable, bUl only a sense need 

l.w evoked of transcendence, of something beyond one's everyday con­
I'll' world. The flight to such a sense is for Nietzsch.~ as morally dis­

hl)llt'St as the flight to God, and it is perhaps even more dishonest intel-

15 



lectually since it depends upon obscurity to function. \!Vagner "is pos­
sessed of every ambiguity, every equivocation, everything, in fact, which 
persuades the undecided, without making them conscious what- they are 
persuaded to" (Nietzsche 1888, 45). This deliberate ambiguity contrasts 
with the master morality that 11 rationalises the world." 

The unreflective and anti-intellectual quality of Wagner's work is an 
element repeatedly seized upon by Nietzsche. He remarks of Wagner: 
"How he humours every cowardice of modern soul with Siren tonesl­
There was never such a mortal hatred of knowledge" (Nietzsche 1888, 47)! 
The kind of "knowledge" that Wagner shirks is that required for moral 
honesty; if one keeps things fuzzy, one need not be pimled down. In 
criticizing Wagner's lack of clarity Nietzsche places himself on danger­
ous ground, for his early discussions of aesthetics emphasized the im­
portance of the inarticulate, non-rational dimensions of art. Nietzsche 
had in fact praised Wagner with these words: 

Now, if the gods and heroes of such mythological dramas 
as Wagner writes are to communicate also in words, there is 
no greater danger than that this spoken language will awaken 
the theoretical man in us and thereby heave us over into the 
other, non-mythical sphere: so that in the end we should not 
through the employment of words have understood more 
clearly what is taking place before us but, on the contrary~ have 
failed to understand it at all. That is why Wagner has forced 
language back to a primordial state in which it hardly yet thinks 
in concepts and in which it is itself still poetry, image and feel­
ing. (Nietzsche 1876, 237) 

Likewise, in The Birth of Tragedy Nietzsche denounces "Socratism," 
that is, the theoretical, metaphysical, logicat abstract focus that emerged 
in Greek philosophy. He is particularly critical uf the Greek philu::;u­
phers' emphasis on reason and of their equation of virtue with knowl­
edge (Nietzsche 1872, 92-95). Of course, when Nietzsche later criticizes 
Wagner's ambiguity he is not actually advocating a movement to a highly 
conceptual "Socratism" but is simply urging a return to something more 
like Greek tragedy, which did not disingenuously mix noble imagery 
with slave morality, which did not use ambiguity to hide an Absolute, 
and which did not emphasize "feeling" and "effect" to the point that 
they came to obliterate any connection to concrete reality. Nevertheless, 
a certain tension is evident between Nietzsche's later criticisms of Wagner 
and his earlier views. Nietzsche had always embraced the spirit of Greek 
tragedy, but in rejecting Wagner he also seems, in some ways, to have 
edged a little closer to the Greek philosophers whom he had once criti­
cized. One may speculate that when Nietzsche realized that the perfect 
blending of the Apollonian and Dionysian which he thought he had found 

16 



III Wagner was in fact something very different, and when he became 
,1 tl u ned to the dangerous effects of "decadent" romanticism, he became 
lllore circumspect about extolling the virtues of the non-rational and in­
,11'1 indate over the rational and conceptual. 

Political Implications 

What is the effect of Wagner's art on one who i.s raIsed on It? "The 
\'outh becomes a moon-calf-an 'idealist'" (Nietzsche 1888, 47). Roman­
\11. idealism and an inability to take constructive action tend to go hand­
Ill-hand, and both are symptoms of Wagnerian romanticism's tendency 
itl disconnect one from real life. Interestingly, while romantic idealism 
Ill"), impair one's ability to act effectively on a personal level, it may at 
tlw same time be a spur to another kind of action. Nietzsche sums up the 
\\i,lgn('rian spirit at one point as "Let us be idealists! ... Let us ... make 
lll.lllkind better!-one thereby becomes good ... " (Nietzsche 1888, 22-
'\), In abandoning classical morality the emphasis of Wagnerian roman­
t It Ism becomes an "idealism" that is externally rather than internally 
PIH'nted. That is, instead of focusing on the ordering of one's own soul, 
"Iii' focuses on making mankind as a whole better. And, since romanti­
,L',m involves a rejection of standards, and romantic idealism encour­
.11'.I'S the view that something is radically wrong with the existing world, 

lllsiinctive politics results. Nietzsche describes such modern politics in 
('/lSI' of Wagner: . 

"Whence comes all the evil in the world?'" Wagner asks him­
self. From "old conventions" he answered, like every revolu­
tionary ideologist. That means from customs, laws, morals, 
,md institutions, from all that the old world, old society rest 
nn. "How does one do away with old society?" Only by de­
claring war against "conventions" (traditional usage and mo­
rCllity). That is what Siegfried does. (Nietzsche 1888, 14) 

llere Nietzsche actually places himself in the position of defending 
Illd '\'ustoms, laws, morals, and institutions" against Wagner's desire to 
dl .. .;troy them. While this may seem out of character, one can see how 

ll'l/,s('hf' might find valuE' in old customs, morals, etc., at least for those 
tlf \p.; who cannot live the life of a full-blown overman. In his early works 
I It" (lbserved that "in order to act we require the veil of illusion" (Nietzsche 
! 51 ), and that" a living thing can be healthy, strong and fruitful only 

It'll bounded by a horizon" (Nietzsche 1874, 63). The necessary "illu­
',]tln" contributing to one's horizon is of course represented by the 
J\ jlollonian "dream" element that comes to be incorporated into 

il'!zsche's concept of the "Dionysian." Some classicists and tradition­
d lists share with Nietzsche recognition of the importance of this /I dream" 

17 



element. For example, Babbitt observed that "to say that the classicist .. 
. gets at his reality with the aid of the imagination is but another way of 
saying that he perceives his reality only through a veil of illusion" (Bab­
bitt 1919, 102). Nietzsche found that Greek tragedy and culture once 
helped to provide the right kind of llillusion" or "'horizon." Today we 
have much less to draw upon, but old customs, morals, traditions, and 
institutions can still playa role in promoting order and in equipping one 
for actIOn, Just as for Edmund Burke they made up the "wardrobe of a 
moral imagination" (Burke 1790,67). 

Nietzsche sees that in rejecting old ways Wagner is effectively reject­
ing standards. Nietzsche can criticize Wagner for this because he be­
lieves that Wagner does not reject standards in the manner of a true over­
man who has gazed into the abyss. Instead, Wagner's blanket rejection 
of standards amounts to a denial of the need to work on the ordering of 
one's own soul. Without the demands imposed on the self by classical 
standards, virtue loses the meaning it had held in the Greek world and 
becomes redefined as sympathy for the plight of mankind. Thus, 
Nietzsche rejects Wagner's "idealistic falsity and softening of conscience" 
(Nietzsche 1895, 81). Wagner, Nietzsche believes, is not calling for a critical 
examination of established ways but for their wholesale rejection as the 
cause of ITlankind's houbles. With .such a I-ejection Wagner is essentially 
trying to negate the world and to avoid the hard task of actually living in 
it. Wagner's idealistic dreaming of a new, wholly different world is sim­
ply another manifestation of romantic escapism. Nietzsche's recognition 
of this dynamic is in fact also a key element behind his condemnation of 
Rousseau. The imagination by Rousseau and certain other romantics of 
an idealized "nature," which they oppose to our corrupting culture, rep­
resents to Nietzsche a flight from reality essentially the same as that which 
he finds in Christianity, and is another manifestation of slave morality. 
Nietzsche clearly recognized that this phenomenon assumes a political 
form. According to Adrian Del Caro, 

the quarrel is with social and political visionaries, types 
Nietzsche considered to be modern and therefore decadent. 
They share the belief, which smacks of Rousseau's "snpersn­
tion," that if only the existing order can be brought down, then 
the nobleness and pride of humanity would rise up. The su­
perstition is this: the original, wondrous nature of man-his 
innate goodness-iS buried under the corruption in institu­
tions .... (Del Caro 1989, 105-106) 

While Nietzsche himself sometimes praises the "natural" and de­
nounces much of modern culture, Strong agrees with Del Caro that, un­
like Rousseau, Nietzsche does not believe that a "natural and happy man" 
would emerge if civilized morality were thrown off (Strong] 975, 49). 

18 



Once more a contrast is presented between a spirit that embraces life 
and one that denies it. Instead of undertaking the hard work of improv­
ing oneself and one's actions, one simply rejects this ,vorld and seeks to 
bring another world into being. In the case of Rousseau, Del Caro finds 
that "his own shortcomings \,vere his inspiration, insofar as his personal 
experience was the basis for his blaming society for the decline of cul­
ture. Rousseau, according to Nietzsche, would cure hImself by curing 
society" (Del Caro 1989, 101). Of course, such a project cannot be suc­
cessful. What is the ultimate result as portrayed by Wagner himself in 
the Ring series? In the final verSIOn, it ends on a dark note. As Nietzsche 
puts it, "Everything goes wrong, everything goes to ruin, the new world 
is as bad as the old .... Brunnhilde, who according to the earlier design 
had to take leave with a song in honour of free love, solacing the world 
in anticipation of a Socialistic Utopia in which I all will be well,' now has 
something else to do. She first has to study Schopenhauer .. . " (Niet7.RChp 
1888, 15-16). 

This unhappy ending is a manifestation of what has been called the 
"manic-depressive" nature of certain types of romanticism (Ryn 1997). 
The romantic is unwilling to embrace the world as it is and focus on 
ordering himself; he dreams instead of a new exterior world. Since this 
dream is hopeless the romantic may become morose and embittered. This 
is why so much romanticism has a dark side. In the case of Wagner, 
"Everything he touches he makes morbid-he has made music morbid" 
(Nietzsche 1888, 16). His romantic dreams ultimately lead not to happi­
ness but to a despairing .kind of pessimism or nihilism. This phenom­
enon, labeled by Nietzsche "romantic pessimism," most clearly shows 
the linkage between romanticism and ressentimenl. According to 
Nietzsche, 

the desire for destruction, change, and becoming can be an ex­
pression of an overflowing energy that is pregnant with fu­
ture (my term for this is, as is known, "Dionysian,"); but it can 
a150 be LIte lu:tLreu uf the ilh:uIU:;tituted, dbinherited, and un­
derprivileged, who destroy, must destroy, because what exists, 
indeed all existence, all being, outrages and provokes them. 
To understand this feeling, consider our anarchists closely. 
(Nietzsche 1882, par. 370) 

Conclusion 

For Nietzsche, Wagnerian opera came to exemplify some of the worst 
characteristics of /I decadent" modern culhtre. The kind of sentimental 
"Christianity" and /I decadent" romanticism that it embraced represented 
a particular moral outlook and frame of mind. This outlook incorpo­
rated the ressentiment that is characteristic of inverted "slave morality," 

19 



and, even more importantly, it encouraged dreams of a nevv, idealistic 

world. Both the sensuality and quasi-religious feeling present in \Vagner' s 
work acted as lIopiates" to take the listener away from the concerns of 
the real world, and fostered an unwillingness to assume full responsibil­
ity for one's own life or to engage in the ordering of oneself. As a result, 
devotees of Wagner (and, to degree, all who are influenced by the II deca­
dent" aspects of modern Western culture) are for Nietzsche operating 
under a kind of moral impairment. They are not equipped to act in the 
world in a truly correct manner. Instead, their desire to be "saved" from 
the real world and to be "uplifted" without personal moral effort sets up 
a particular political dynamic that may perhaps be best characterized as 
a kind of I salvific' politics. Such politics, seen by Nietzsche as character­
istic of modernity, tend to foster a shift of responsibility away from the 
individual and toward the kind of bourgeois state that Nietzsche held in 
contenl.pt. In its fully developed form this dynamic manifests itself as 
the revolutionary ideological politics that blossomed in the early twenti­
eth century. Such politics embody an unfulfillable desire to completely 
abolish the existing order and traditional standards and to erect in their 
place a new, idealized, uplifting political and social order, the "Socialis­
tic Utopia" of which Nietzsche speaks. 

In taking a stand against Wagnerian romanticism Nietzsche emerges 
as a strong' classicist' of a sort. Objections may be raised that the highly 
I classicist' Nietzsche presented here does not represent the whole of 
Nietzsche; this is undeniably true. Nevertheless, the Nietzsche that ap­
pears in these anti-Wagner works· should not be ignored when consider­
ing Nietzsche's philosophy as a whole. For example, it becomes clear 
that what Nietzsche is aiming for with his overman (whether he achieves 
it or not) is something quite different from romantic expansiveness, simple 
ego-worship, or surrender to base impulses. The overman incorporates, 
among other things, a form of discipline, and bears a vague resemblance 
to the well-ordered soul of the Greek philosophers. The Nietzsche of 
these particular works is in a special sense highly 'moral' in that he em­
phasizes personal responsibility and rejects approaches that direct man's 
energies toward control of the exterior world as a method of betterment. 

Although Significant tensions exist, Nietzsche remains for the most 
part philosophically consistent throughout his pro- and anti-Wagner 
writings. While personal issues no doubt played a role, Nietzsche's re­
versal of opinion on Wagner may be attributed in significant part to the 
maturation of his thought and to his improved perception over time of 
the effect uf Wagner':::; work un the public. Ultimately it i:::i Nietz:::;che':::; 
rejection of Wagner, not his early enamorment with him, which appears 
to be most in keeping with his philosophical views. One may in fact 
suggest that some clarification of Nietzsche's thought occurred once he 

20 



no longer felt compelleu to accOIIIlnuudte Wagner's !Ilu:-,ic favorably 
within it. Nonetheless, Nietzsche's ability to classify W"agnerian opera 
first as the best manifestation of master morality and then as the worst 
manifestation of slave morality highlights a problem with the vague and 
'slippery' nature of his philosophy. If Nietzsche himself cannot be cer­
tain of what he means by such terms as "Dionysian," how can we? Nev­
ertheless, by wrestling with the practical problem of Wagner Nietzsche 
helps us to get a better idea of what he means, or at least of what he does 
not mean, by some of the terms and concepts he uses. 

Today it is a11 the rage in political science to talk about the importance 
of culture. It is also a commonplace that the maintenance of a particular 
kind of political order (such as liberal democracy) requires a citizenry 
with a particular kind of character. However, the precise nature of the 
linkage between cultural elements, individual character, and political 
behavior is not always well understood. While it is not uncommon for 
political scientists to look for relationships between artistic works and 
politics, most look only for explicit political or ideological content in a 
work. Nietzsche displays a more subtle understanding of how art incor­
porates in itself an ethical dimension that can shape individuals' per­
sonal, social, and political behavior. Nietzsche's analysis of Wagnerian 
opera is particularly valuable to us today because of the insight it offers 
into how the politics of the modern world may have been influenced -
and may continue to be influenced - by cultura.l clements such as the­
ater, music, art, or literature. 

References 

Babbitt, Irving. [1919] 1991. Rousseau and Romanticism. New Brunswick, NJ: 
Transaction Publishers. 

Burke, Edmund. [1790] 1987. Reflections 011 the Revolution in France, ed. J. G. A. 
Pocock. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company. 

Del Caro, Adnan. 1989. Nietzsche Contra Nietzsche: Creativity ana the Anti-Ro­
mantic. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. 

Heilke, Thomas. 1998. Nietzsche's Tragic Regime. DeKalb, IL: Northern Illinois 
University Press. 

Hollingdale, R. J. [1965] 1999. Nietzsche: The Man and His Philosophy. New York: 
Cambridge University Press. 

Kaufmann, Walter. 1974. Nietzsche: Philosopher, Psychologist: A11tichrist. Princeton: 
Princeton University Press. 

Nietzsche, Friedrich. (1872)1956. The Birth of Tragedy, in The Birth of Tragedy and 
the Gc:nealogy of lv10rals, tldllB. Frdl1ci5 Golffing. New York Anchor Books! 
Doubleday. 

__ . [1874] 1997. On the Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life, in Untimely 
Meditations, ed. Daniel Breazeale, trans. R. J. Hollingdale. New York: Cam­
bridge University Press. 

21 



__ . [1876] 1997. Richard Wagner in Bayreuth, in Untimely Meditations, ed. Daniel 
Breazeale, trans. R. J. Hollingdale. New York: Cambridge University Press. 

__ . [1882] 1974. The Gay Science, trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Ran­
domHouse. 

__ . [1883-1892J 1969. Thus Spoke Zarathllstra, trans. R. ]. HolHngdale. New 
York: Penguin Books. 

__ . [1886J 1989. Beyond Good and Evil, trans. Helen Zimmern. Buffalo, NY: 
Prometheus Books. 

__ . [1888] 1896. The Case o.fWagner, in The Works of Friedrich Nietzsche, Vol. XI, 
ed. Alexander Tille, trans. Thomas Common. New York: Macmillan and Co. 

__ . [1889] 1990. Twilight Of the Idols, in Twilight of the Idols/The Anti-Christ, 
trans. R. J. Hollingdale. New York: Penguin Books. 

__ . [1895] 1896. Nietzsche contra Wagner, in The Works of Friedrich Nietzsche, 
Vol. XI, ed. Alexander Tille, trans. Thomas Common. New York: Macmillan 
and Co. 

Ryn, Claes G. 1997. "Imaginative Origins of Modernity: Life as Daydream and 
Nlohlmale." Humanila:5, Vol. X, No.2. 41-60. 

Strong, Tracy B. 1975. Friedrich Nietzsche and the Politics of Transfiguration. Berke­
ley, CA: University of California Press. 

Wagner, Richard. 1938. The J1uthel1tic Libretto3 of the' Wagnct Opems (editor and 
translators not given). New York: Crown Publishers. 

22 


