Much of the recent discussion of nihilism in Friedrich Nietzsche, particularly in the work of Bernard Reginster, has focused on the idea of a crisis of value or meaning, a collapse of the moral and cultural frameworks that make human life intelligible or worthwhile. I approach the problem from a different angle. Reading Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy (1872), I develop what I call temporal nihilism. The suffering that comes with life's transience, the irreparable losses that time brings, is not…
Read moreMuch of the recent discussion of nihilism in Friedrich Nietzsche, particularly in the work of Bernard Reginster, has focused on the idea of a crisis of value or meaning, a collapse of the moral and cultural frameworks that make human life intelligible or worthwhile. I approach the problem from a different angle. Reading Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy (1872), I develop what I call temporal nihilism. The suffering that comes with life's transience, the irreparable losses that time brings, is not an accidental misfortune, but something built into the structure of any finite existence that cares about itself and its world. Since this suffering cannot be avoided and its losses cannot be undone, existence itself can appear undesirable. In my reading, the Birth stages a historical encounter with this problem. Its point of departure is Silenus, the figure who, when asked what is best for human beings, answers that it would have been better not to have been born at all. Silenus is the first temporal nihilist. I argue that his verdict on existence follows directly from the inescapability of suffering from transience. Early Greek culture, both in its Homeric and tragic forms, overcame this verdict not by refuting it but by transfiguring it. Through mytho-poetic art, a perspective is made available from which irreparable loss is not merely something to be endured, but something that belongs to a life that can be worthwhile. The decline of tragedy marks a shift toward the attempt to exclude suffering from transience from a worthwhile life. Socratic rationalism, the plays of Euripides, Hellenistic Greek New Comedy, and the modern faith in progress all share in this corrective logic, and each grapples with the recurrent threat of temporal nihilism, structural to any life lived in time. We cannot outrun suffering from transience, and if that is so, we may need an art capable of transfiguring irreparable loss again, not by diminishing it, but by making possible a form of life in which suffering from transience does not become a verdict on having loved it. This, I take to be the key message of Nietzsche’s Birth.
