Preface to Richard Wagner
Original German
Um mir alle die möglichen Bedenklichkeiten, Aufregungen und Missverständnisse ferne zu halten, zu denen die in dieser Schrift vereinigten Gedanken bei dem eigenthümlichen Character unserer aesthetischen Oeffentlichkeit Anlass geben werden, und um auch die Einleitungsworte zu derselben mit der gleichen beschaulichen Wonne schreiben zu können, deren Zeichen sie selbst, als das Petrefact guter und erhebender Stunden, auf jedem Blatte trägt, vergegenwärtige ich mir den Augenblick, in dem Sie, mein hochverehrter Freund, diese Schrift empfangen werden: wie Sie, vielleicht nach einer abendlichen Wanderung im Winterschnee, den entfesselten Prometheus auf dem Titelblatte betrachten, meinen Namen lesen und sofort überzeugt sind, dass, mag in dieser Schrift stehen, was da wolle, der Verfasser etwas Ernstes und Eindringliches zu sagen hat, ebenfalls dass er, bei allem, was er sich erdachte, mit Ihnen wie mit einem Gegenwärtigen verkehrte und nur etwas dieser Gegenwart Entsprechendes niederschreiben durfte. Sie werden dabei sich erinnern, dass ich zu gleicher Zeit, als Ihre herrliche Festschrift über Beethoven entstand, das heisst in den Schrecken und Erhabenheiten des eben ausgebrochnen Krieges mich zu diesen Gedanken sammelte. Doch würden diejenigen irren, welche etwa bei dieser Sammlung an den Gegensatz von patriotischer Erregung und aesthetischer Schwelgerei, von tapferem Ernst und heiterem Spiel denken sollten: denen möchte vielmehr, bei einem wirklichen Lesen dieser Schrift, zu ihrem Erstaunen deutlich werden, mit welchem ernsthaft deutschen Problem wir zu thun haben, das von uns recht eigentlich in die Mitte deutscher Hoffnungen, als Wirbel und Wendepunkt hingestellt wird. Vielleicht aber wird es für eben dieselben überhaupt anstössig sein ein aesthetisches Problem so ernst genommen zu sehn, falls sie nämlich in der Kunst nicht mehr als ein lustiges Nebenbei, als ein auch wohl zu missendes Schellengeklingel zum „Ernst des Daseins“ zu erkennen im Stande sind: als ob Niemand wüsste, was es bei dieser Gegenüberstellung mit einem solchen „Ernste des Daseins“ auf sich habe. Diesen Ernsthaften diene zur Belehrung, dass ich von der Kunst als der höchsten Aufgabe und der eigentlich metaphysischen Thätigkeit dieses Lebens im Sinne des Mannes überzeugt bin, dem ich hier, als meinem erhabenen Vorkämpfer auf dieser Bahn, diese Schrift gewidmet haben will.
Basel, Ende des Jahres 1871.
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation of the 1886 issue, with the Attempt at Self-Criticism and the Preface to Richard Wagner, made directly from the German of the Fritzsch Neue Ausgabe and read against its page images; reviewed against the German before publication.
To keep at a distance all the possible misgivings, agitation, and misunderstandings that the thoughts gathered in this work will provoke, given the peculiar character of our aesthetic public, and to be able to write these introductory words with the same contemplative delight whose imprint the work itself bears on every page, as the fossil of happy and uplifting hours, I picture the moment when you, my deeply revered friend, will receive this work: how, perhaps after an evening walk through the winter snow, you look at the unbound Prometheus on the title page, read my name, and are immediately convinced that, whatever this work may contain, its author has something serious and urgent to say, and likewise that, in everything he conceived, he conversed with you as though you were present and could write down only what befitted that presence. You will recall that I gathered myself into these thoughts at the same time as your splendid commemorative essay on Beethoven was taking shape—that is, amid the terrors and sublimities of the war that had just broken out. Yet anyone who, in connection with this gathering of thoughts, should think of the contrast between patriotic excitement and aesthetic indulgence, between courageous seriousness and cheerful play, would be mistaken: rather, on truly reading this work, such readers might discover to their astonishment what a seriously German problem we are dealing with, one that we place at the very center of German hopes, as their vortex and turning point. But perhaps these same readers will find it altogether offensive to see an aesthetic problem taken so seriously, if they can recognize in art no more than an amusing sideline, a jingling of bells that could easily be dispensed with beside the “seriousness of existence”: as though no one knew what such a “seriousness of existence” amounts to in this contrast. Let these serious people be informed that I am convinced that art is the highest task and the truly metaphysical activity of this life, in the sense of the man to whom I wish to dedicate this work here, as my sublime pioneer on this path.
Basel, at the end of the year 1871.
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the same German text, without reference to the Musean edition or to any English translation.
The thoughts brought together in this book will give rise to every sort of concern, agitation, and misunderstanding, given the peculiar character of our public discussion of art. To keep all that at a distance, and to write these opening words with the same joy of contemplation whose mark they themselves bear on every page, as the petrified trace of good and uplifting hours, I picture the moment when you, my deeply respected friend, receive it. Perhaps after an evening walk through the winter snow, you look at the unbound Prometheus on the title page and read my name. You immediately feel sure that, whatever this book may contain, its author has something serious and urgent to say. You are equally sure that, in everything he thought out, he conversed with you as if you were present, and could write down only something that answered to that presence. You will remember that I gathered my thoughts on these matters at the same time that you were writing your magnificent commemorative essay on Beethoven. That is, amid the terrors and grandeurs of the war that had just broken out. But anyone who thinks this gathering of thoughts set patriotic excitement against aesthetic self-indulgence, or brave seriousness against cheerful play, would be mistaken. If such people actually read this book, they may instead discover to their surprise how seriously German the problem we are dealing with is. We place it right at the center of German hopes, as their vortex and turning point. Yet these same people may find it altogether offensive to see an aesthetic problem taken so seriously. That is, if they can see in art nothing more than an amusing sideline, a jingling of bells that one could easily do without, alongside the “seriousness of existence.” As if no one knew what such a “seriousness of existence” amounts to when this contrast is made! For the instruction of these serious people, let me say that I am convinced that art is the highest task and the truly metaphysical activity of this life, in the sense of the man to whom I here dedicate this book as my lofty forerunner and champion on this path.
Basel, end of the year 1871.
About this section
Preface to Richard Wagner is part of The Birth of Tragedy by Friedrich Nietzsche. This page sets the German original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is section 8 of 33 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
Open the work page for the full contents, every edition, and the download links, or go back to Explore to browse other complete works in the European tradition. The reader keeps your place when you are signed in and lets you compare the original with each translation, one edition at a time.