Some time ago I mentioned that despite his antiChrist views, Nietzsche would be my choice for a dinner guest over any other modern era philosopher. He speaks in almost exasperated tones of The Will to Power; however, I see a man who in all reality has more of a “Will to Seek” than a Will to Power. If only he would open his heart, he would find that for which he seeks. That is why he is irresistible. You wish you could convince him to follow you. You know where it is, that for which he seeks. In his search, he seems completely off; yet, he only is fractionally off. He seems like a spaceship returning home only to miss by a million miles. In reality, Nietzsche merely glances off the atmosphere into the “blackness of infinity.”
I remain fascinated with Friedrich Nietzsche because his inner drive is so right, his need for intellectual wholeness so admirable, yet his end point and resolution so abysmally wrong. I understand now the spirit behind the fictional play St. Thérèse – Nietzsche is my Brother.
Nietzsche is eloquent in his madness. One wants to exclaim, “Yes! Yes!” as he describes his dilemma, then “Oh noooo” when he flies off to seek it. Nietzsche wants the Kingdom of Heaven but soars instead under the sun and into the void. Nietzsche wants to rise with the saints, but chooses instead his Übermensch, his Superman, developed through the eternal recurrence of endless redundancy. One feels sadness for what could have been.
This is why the poignant, touching last movement of the play revolves around St. Thérèse, now in Heaven, begging Nietzsche to come with her and him begging her to stay. “THERESE: Come on, do not pretend. NIETZSCHE: Why should I come with you? THERESE: Because I love you. NIETZSCHE: No woman has ever loved me. THERESE: I love you.
We are so close to our brother, yet so far away. The play ends with this final, concise dialogue:
THERESE: Come, – come
NIETZSCHE: Stay, – stay