For the past decade, I have not been able to describe convincingly the genre into which my writings fit. I am not sure that there is a clean category for them. They seemed at first to be religious, then spiritual, then political, then inspirational, now philosophical, or, a combination of all. In the midst of it, there developed a place, a Form, one that I call Le Royaume, that became both the source and the summit of it all, a place flowing out and returning back. But what exactly was it? About this, too, I was unsure.
As I read Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, and note the mountain from which the prophet descends to teach mankind the Übermensch, the Superman, I cannot help but believe that what I have been writing is nothing less than an inversion and recapitulation of Zarathustra. I have written that which I would be pleased to share with Nietzsche over dinner. I have written my response to him.
“But when Zarathustra was alone, he spoke thus to his heart: ‘Could it be possible! This old saint has not yet heard in his forest that God is dead!’”
In fact Friedrich, “God is dead” is dead; this is the point of my writings.
“In truth, man is a polluted river. One must be a sea, to receive a polluted river and not be defiled. Behold, I teach you the Superman: he is this sea, in him your great contempt can go under.”
I am startled, good friend, at the clarity, profundity, and beauty in your words, in your description of your Superman who, according to you, has taken God’s place. Man is indeed polluted, Friedrich. However, this pollution cannot be dissipated by the enlargement of ourselves, in our “will to power,” by becoming Übermensch. No matter how big the sea, the pollution remains. Superman is on a fruitless endeavor.
“What is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal; what can be loved in man is that he is a going-across and a down-going.”
Friedrich, what is great in man is that he is great in God, the very one you said was dead. God is man’s goal. The bridge of which you speak is our death to self – the very antithesis of the will to power – and the end is an up-going to the Kingdom of the Saints, not a down-going to the void of Superman.
” ‘But let me go quickly, that I may take nothing from you!’
And thus they parted from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing as two boys laugh.”