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Die Geburt der Tragödie
Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
(1872)

Downloading books is available only for authorized users

Downloading books is available only for authorized users

La nascita della tragedia The Birth of Tragedy

1. 1.
Quale si sia il primo germe di questo libro disputabile, dev’essere stato senza dubbio un problema di grande importanza e di grande attrattiva, e, inoltre, un problema profondamente personale: ne son testimonio i tempi in cui sorse e nonostante i quali sorse, gli agitati tempi della guerra del 1870-71. Mentre il tuono della battaglia di Wörth rimbombava lontano in Europa, il sottile cavillator di enimmi, cui si deve in parte la paternità di questo libro, fantasticava in un angolo delle Alpi, assai intrigato tra cavilli ed enimmi, e perciò molto travagliato e, insieme, racquieto. Stese allora alla meglio i suoi pensieri sui greci. che fanno il nucleo di questo volume bizzarro e poco accessibile, a cui va ora dedicata la presente tardiva prefazione (o conclusione). Corsero alcune settimane, e si trovò anch’esso sotto Metz, senza essersi ancora distrigato dallo spinoso questionario in cui si era impigliato a proposito della pretesa «serenità» dei greci e dell’arte greca; quando alla fine, in quello stesso mese di profonda sospensione in cui fu trattata la pace a Versailles, venne anch’egli in pace con sé medesimo, e, guarendo a mano a mano a casa di un’infermità presa al campo, fini col persuadersi affatto, che «la tragedia è nata dallo spirito della musica». Dallo spirito della musica? Musica e tragedia? I greci e la tragedia musicale? I greci e il capolavoro del pessimismo? La più sensata, la più bella, la più giustamente invidiata, la meglio iniziata alla vita tra le umane genti finora, la gente greca, come? proprio essa aveva bisogno della tragedia? peggio, dell’arte? E perché? Arte greca?...

Per questa via s’indovina il punto a cui mena il grande quesito sul valore dell’esistenza. È proprio vero che il pessimismo sia necessariamente il segno della decadenza, della dissoluzione, del fallimento della vita, della stanchezza e del rilassamento degl’istinti? Tal quale fu presso gl’indiani e quale, stando a tutte le apparenze, si manifesta presso di noi, «moderni» ed europei? Esiste forse un pessimismo della forza? Una propensione intellettuale alla durezza, all’orrore, alla cattiveria, al problematico dell’essere, per eccesso di benessere, per rigoglio di sanità, per pienezza di esistenza? Esiste forse una sofferenza nella stessa esuberanza? Esiste forse una demoniaca bravura dallo sguardo inarrestabile, la quale anela al terribile come al nemico, al nemico degno con cui cimentare la propria gagliardia? da cui vuol imparare che cosa sia l’«aver paura»? Che cosa significa il mito tragico proprio presso i greci della migliore, della più vigorosa, della più valorosa età? E il mostruoso fenomeno del senso dionisiaco? Che significa la tragedia, che di quello è figlia? D’altra parte, ciò che uccise la tragedia, ossia il socratismo della morale, la dialettica, il tenersi contento e la serenità dell’uomo teorico; ebbene, per l’appunto cotesto socratismo non potrebbe essere proprio desso il sintomo del tramonto, della lassitudine, del morbo, della dissoluzione anarchica degl’istinti? E la «serenità greca» dell’ellenismo posteriore non potrebbe essere proprio essa non più che la porpora dell’occaso? Né la volontà epicurea contro il pessimismo essere altro che il rimedio preventivo del paziente? E la scienza stessa, la nostra scienza, ma sì, che cosa vuol dire in sostanza, considerandola come sintomo della vita, tutta la scienza? A che, peggio, donde tutta la scienza? Come? Il senso scientifico non è forse altro che un puro senso di paura, un sotterfugio davanti al pessimismo? Un sottile espediente di tutela personale contro, sì, contro la verità? Vale a dire, parlando secondo la morale, qualcosa come la codardia e la falsità? Parlando immoralmente, una furberia? O Socrate, Socrate, fu questo, forse, il tuo segreto? O tu, ironico misterioso, fu questa, forse, la tua ironia?

Whatever might have been be the basis for this dubious book, it must have been a question of the utmost importance and charm, as well as a deeply personal one. Testimony to that effect is the time in which it arose
(in spite of which it arose), that disturbing era of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-71. While the thunderclap of the Battle of Worth was reverberating across Europe, the meditative lover of enigmas whose lot it was to father this book sat somewhere in a corner of the Alps, extremely reflective and perplexed (thus simultaneously very distressed and carefree) and wrote down his thoughts concerning the Greeks, the kernel of that odd and difficult book to which this later preface (or postscript) should be dedicated. A few weeks after that, he found himself under the walls of Metz, still not yet free of the question mark which he had set down beside the alleged "serenity" of the Greeks and of Greek culture, until, in that month of the deepest tension, as peace was being negotiated in Versailles, he finally came to peace with himself and, while slowly recovering from an illness he'd brought back home with him from the field, finished composing the Birth of
Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music. From music? Music and tragedy? The Greeks and the Music of Tragedy? The Greeks and the art work of pessimism? The most successful, most beautiful, most envied people, those with the most encouraging style of life — the Greeks? How can this be? Did they really need tragedy? Even more to the point, did they really need art? And Greek art, what is that, and how did it come about?

One can guess from all this just where the great question mark about the worth of existence was placed. Is pessimism necessarily the sign of collapse, destruction, and disaster, of the exhausted and enfeebled instinct, as it was among the Indians, as it is now, to all appearances, among us "modern" peoples and Europeans? Is there a pessimism of the strong? An intellectual inclination for what in existence is hard, dreadful, angry, and problematic, emerging from what is healthy, from overflowing well being, from living existence to the full? Is there perhaps a way of suffering from the very fullness of life, a tempting courage of the keenest sight which demands what is terrible, like an enemy — a worthy enemy — against which it can test its power, from which it will learn what "to fear" means? What does the tragic myth mean precisely for the Greeks of the best, strongest, and bravest age? What about that tremendous phenomenon of the Dionysian? And what about what was born out of the Dionysian — the tragedy? By contrast, what are we to make of what killed tragedy — Socratic morality, dialectic, the satisfaction and serenity of the theoretical man? Could not this very Socratic way be a sign of collapse, exhaustion, sickness, and the dissolution of the anarchic instinct? And could the "Greek serenity" of later
Greek periods be only a red sunset? Could the Epicurean will hostile to pessimism be merely the prudence of a suffering man? And even scientific enquiry itself, our science — indeed, what does all scientific enquiry in general mean considered as a symptom of life? What is the point of all that science and, even more serious, where did it come from? What about that? Is scientific scholarship perhaps only a fear and an excuse in the face of pessimism, a delicate self-defence against — the Truth? And speaking morally, something like cowardice and falsehood? Speaking unmorally, a clever trick? Oh, Socrates, Socrates, was that perhaps your secret? Oh you secretive ironist, was that perhaps your — irony?

angry: When someone is angry, they may want to speak loudly or fight.
clever: When someone is clever, they can solve a hard puzzle or problem.
finally: If something happens finally, it happens after a longtime or at the end.
lot: A lot means a large number or amount of people, animals, things, etc.
trick: A trick is something you do to fool another person.
well: You use well to say that something was done in a good way.
kill: To kill someone or something is to make them die.
secret: A secret is something that you do not tell other people.
terrible: If something is terrible, it is very bad.
among: If you are among certain things, they are all around you.
ever: Ever means at any time.
concern: Concern is a feeling of worry.
field: A field is a big area of land.
face: If you face a problem, you deal with it.
beside: When someone or something is beside you, they are next to you.
harm: Harm is hurt or problems caused to someone or something.
peace: Peace is a time without war.
contrast: A contrast is the sharp difference between two things.
success: Success is doing something well that you choose to do.
against: To be against something is to be touching it or opposed to it.
perhaps: Perhaps is used when you say that something could happen.
still: Still is used when you say that a situation keeps going on.
effect: An effect is a change made by something else.
sail: To sail is to move a boat on the water.
serious: When something is serious, it is bad or unsafe.
thin: If someone or something is thin, they are not fat.
demand: To demand something is to say strongly that you want it.
owe: To owe is to have to pay or give back something received from another.
sight: A sight is something interesting to see.
suffer: To suffer is to feel pain.
across: To go across something is to go to the other side of it.
extreme: If something is extreme, it is in a large amount or degree.
fear: Fear is the feeling of being afraid.
yet: Yet is used to say something has not happened up to now.
exist: To exist is to be real.
flow: To flow is to move easily and continuously in one direction.
solution: A solution is a way to solve a problem.
consider: To consider something means to think about it.
real: If something is real, it actually exists.
reflect: To reflect is when a surface sends back light, heat, sound or an image.
war: A war is a big fight between two groups of people.
worth: If something is worth an amount of money, it costs that amount.
appear: To appear is to seem.
later: Later means after the present, expected, or usual time.
though: Though is used when the second idea makes the first seem surprising.
earn: To earn means to get money for the work you do.
set: To set something is to put it somewhere.
period: A period is an amount of time when something happens.
sign: A sign is a notice giving information, directions, a warning, etc.
final: If something is final, it is the last part.
false: If something is false, it is not correct.
own: To own something means to have it. That thing belongs to you.
gain: If you gain something, you get more of it.
importance: Importance means the quality or condition of being needed or valued.
mean: Mean describes someone who is unkind or cruel.

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Die Geburt der Tragödie Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1872)

Downloading books is available only for authorized users
Downloading books is available only for authorized users
La nascita della tragedia		The Birth of Tragedy
1.		1.
Quale si sia il primo germe di questo libro disputabile, dev’essere stato senza dubbio un problema di grande importanza e di grande attrattiva, e, inoltre, un problema profondamente personale: ne son testimonio i tempi in cui sorse e nonostante i quali sorse, gli agitati tempi della guerra del 1870-71. Mentre il tuono della battaglia di Wörth rimbombava lontano in Europa, il sottile cavillator di enimmi, cui si deve in parte la paternità di questo libro, fantasticava in un angolo delle Alpi, assai intrigato tra cavilli ed enimmi, e perciò molto travagliato e, insieme, racquieto. Stese allora alla meglio i suoi pensieri sui greci. che fanno il nucleo di questo volume bizzarro e poco accessibile, a cui va ora dedicata la presente tardiva prefazione (o conclusione). Corsero alcune settimane, e si trovò anch’esso sotto Metz, senza essersi ancora distrigato dallo spinoso questionario in cui si era impigliato a proposito della pretesa «serenità» dei greci e dell’arte greca; quando alla fine, in quello stesso mese di profonda sospensione in cui fu trattata la pace a Versailles, venne anch’egli in pace con sé medesimo, e, guarendo a mano a mano a casa di un’infermità presa al campo, fini col persuadersi affatto, che «la tragedia è nata dallo spirito della musica». Dallo spirito della musica? Musica e tragedia? I greci e la tragedia musicale? I greci e il capolavoro del pessimismo? La più sensata, la più bella, la più giustamente invidiata, la meglio iniziata alla vita tra le umane genti finora, la gente greca, come? proprio essa aveva bisogno della tragedia? peggio, dell’arte? E perché? Arte greca?... Per questa via s’indovina il punto a cui mena il grande quesito sul valore dell’esistenza. È proprio vero che il pessimismo sia necessariamente il segno della decadenza, della dissoluzione, del fallimento della vita, della stanchezza e del rilassamento degl’istinti? Tal quale fu presso gl’indiani e quale, stando a tutte le apparenze, si manifesta presso di noi, «moderni» ed europei? Esiste forse un pessimismo della forza? Una propensione intellettuale alla durezza, all’orrore, alla cattiveria, al problematico dell’essere, per eccesso di benessere, per rigoglio di sanità, per pienezza di esistenza? Esiste forse una sofferenza nella stessa esuberanza? Esiste forse una demoniaca bravura dallo sguardo inarrestabile, la quale anela al terribile come al nemico, al nemico degno con cui cimentare la propria gagliardia? da cui vuol imparare che cosa sia l’«aver paura»? Che cosa significa il mito tragico proprio presso i greci della migliore, della più vigorosa, della più valorosa età? E il mostruoso fenomeno del senso dionisiaco? Che significa la tragedia, che di quello è figlia? D’altra parte, ciò che uccise la tragedia, ossia il socratismo della morale, la dialettica, il tenersi contento e la serenità dell’uomo teorico; ebbene, per l’appunto cotesto socratismo non potrebbe essere proprio desso il sintomo del tramonto, della lassitudine, del morbo, della dissoluzione anarchica degl’istinti? E la «serenità greca» dell’ellenismo posteriore non potrebbe essere proprio essa non più che la porpora dell’occaso? Né la volontà epicurea contro il pessimismo essere altro che il rimedio preventivo del paziente? E la scienza stessa, la nostra scienza, ma sì, che cosa vuol dire in sostanza, considerandola come sintomo della vita, tutta la scienza? A che, peggio, donde tutta la scienza? Come? Il senso scientifico non è forse altro che un puro senso di paura, un sotterfugio davanti al pessimismo? Un sottile espediente di tutela personale contro, sì, contro la verità? Vale a dire, parlando secondo la morale, qualcosa come la codardia e la falsità? Parlando immoralmente, una furberia? O Socrate, Socrate, fu questo, forse, il tuo segreto? O tu, ironico misterioso, fu questa, forse, la tua ironia?		Whatever might have been be the basis for this dubious book, it must have been a question of the utmost importance and charm, as well as a deeply personal one. Testimony to that effect is the time in which it arose (in spite of which it arose), that disturbing era of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-71. While the thunderclap of the Battle of Worth was reverberating across Europe, the meditative lover of enigmas whose lot it was to father this book sat somewhere in a corner of the Alps, extremely reflective and perplexed (thus simultaneously very distressed and carefree) and wrote down his thoughts concerning the Greeks, the kernel of that odd and difficult book to which this later preface (or postscript) should be dedicated. A few weeks after that, he found himself under the walls of Metz, still not yet free of the question mark which he had set down beside the alleged "serenity" of the Greeks and of Greek culture, until, in that month of the deepest tension, as peace was being negotiated in Versailles, he finally came to peace with himself and, while slowly recovering from an illness he'd brought back home with him from the field, finished composing the Birth of Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music. From music? Music and tragedy? The Greeks and the Music of Tragedy? The Greeks and the art work of pessimism? The most successful, most beautiful, most envied people, those with the most encouraging style of life — the Greeks? How can this be? Did they really need tragedy? Even more to the point, did they really need art? And Greek art, what is that, and how did it come about? One can guess from all this just where the great question mark about the worth of existence was placed. Is pessimism necessarily the sign of collapse, destruction, and disaster, of the exhausted and enfeebled instinct, as it was among the Indians, as it is now, to all appearances, among us "modern" peoples and Europeans? Is there a pessimism of the strong? An intellectual inclination for what in existence is hard, dreadful, angry, and problematic, emerging from what is healthy, from overflowing well being, from living existence to the full? Is there perhaps a way of suffering from the very fullness of life, a tempting courage of the keenest sight which demands what is terrible, like an enemy — a worthy enemy — against which it can test its power, from which it will learn what "to fear" means? What does the tragic myth mean precisely for the Greeks of the best, strongest, and bravest age? What about that tremendous phenomenon of the Dionysian? And what about what was born out of the Dionysian — the tragedy? By contrast, what are we to make of what killed tragedy — Socratic morality, dialectic, the satisfaction and serenity of the theoretical man? Could not this very Socratic way be a sign of collapse, exhaustion, sickness, and the dissolution of the anarchic instinct? And could the "Greek serenity" of later Greek periods be only a red sunset? Could the Epicurean will hostile to pessimism be merely the prudence of a suffering man? And even scientific enquiry itself, our science — indeed, what does all scientific enquiry in general mean considered as a symptom of life? What is the point of all that science and, even more serious, where did it come from? What about that? Is scientific scholarship perhaps only a fear and an excuse in the face of pessimism, a delicate self-defence against — the Truth? And speaking morally, something like cowardice and falsehood? Speaking unmorally, a clever trick? Oh, Socrates, Socrates, was that perhaps your secret? Oh you secretive ironist, was that perhaps your — irony?
		angry: When someone is angry, they may want to speak loudly or fight. clever: When someone is clever, they can solve a hard puzzle or problem. finally: If something happens finally, it happens after a longtime or at the end. lot: A lot means a large number or amount of people, animals, things, etc. trick: A trick is something you do to fool another person. well: You use well to say that something was done in a good way. kill: To kill someone or something is to make them die. secret: A secret is something that you do not tell other people. terrible: If something is terrible, it is very bad. among: If you are among certain things, they are all around you. ever: Ever means at any time. concern: Concern is a feeling of worry. field: A field is a big area of land. face: If you face a problem, you deal with it. beside: When someone or something is beside you, they are next to you. harm: Harm is hurt or problems caused to someone or something. peace: Peace is a time without war. contrast: A contrast is the sharp difference between two things. success: Success is doing something well that you choose to do. against: To be against something is to be touching it or opposed to it. perhaps: Perhaps is used when you say that something could happen. still: Still is used when you say that a situation keeps going on. effect: An effect is a change made by something else. sail: To sail is to move a boat on the water. serious: When something is serious, it is bad or unsafe. thin: If someone or something is thin, they are not fat. demand: To demand something is to say strongly that you want it. owe: To owe is to have to pay or give back something received from another. sight: A sight is something interesting to see. suffer: To suffer is to feel pain. across: To go across something is to go to the other side of it. extreme: If something is extreme, it is in a large amount or degree. fear: Fear is the feeling of being afraid. yet: Yet is used to say something has not happened up to now. exist: To exist is to be real. flow: To flow is to move easily and continuously in one direction. solution: A solution is a way to solve a problem. consider: To consider something means to think about it. real: If something is real, it actually exists. reflect: To reflect is when a surface sends back light, heat, sound or an image. war: A war is a big fight between two groups of people. worth: If something is worth an amount of money, it costs that amount. appear: To appear is to seem. later: Later means after the present, expected, or usual time. though: Though is used when the second idea makes the first seem surprising. earn: To earn means to get money for the work you do. set: To set something is to put it somewhere. period: A period is an amount of time when something happens. sign: A sign is a notice giving information, directions, a warning, etc. final: If something is final, it is the last part. false: If something is false, it is not correct. own: To own something means to have it. That thing belongs to you. gain: If you gain something, you get more of it. importance: Importance means the quality or condition of being needed or valued. mean: Mean describes someone who is unkind or cruel.

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