Re­view: Mal­colm Bull,
Anti-Ni­et­z­sche (2011)

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Im­age: Pho­to­graph of
Friedrich Ni­et­z­sche (1882)
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On the Left’s re­cent anti-Ni­et­z­schean turn

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[W]hat makes Ni­et­z­sche’s in­flu­ence so un/canny is that there has nev­er been ad­equate res­ist­ance from a real Left.

— Geoff Waite, Ni­et­z­sche’s Corps/e (1996)

Few thinkers have en­joyed such wide­spread ap­peal over the last forty years as Ni­et­z­sche.

— Peter Thomas, “Over­man and
the Com­mune” (2005)

Op­posed to every­one, Ni­et­z­sche has met with re­mark­ably little op­pos­i­tion.

— Mal­colm Bull, “Where is the
Anti-Ni­et­z­sche?” (2001)

If Ni­et­z­sche’s ar­gu­ments could be said to have gone un­chal­lenged dur­ing the second half of the twen­ti­eth cen­tury, as the above-cited au­thors sug­gest, the same can­not be said today. Be­gin­ning in the early 1990s, but then with in­creas­ing rapid­ity over the course of the last dec­ade, a dis­tinctly anti-Ni­et­z­schean con­sensus has formed — par­tic­u­larly on the Left. Re­cent years have wit­nessed a fresh spate of texts con­demning both Ni­et­z­sche and his thought as ir­re­deem­ably re­ac­tion­ary, and hence in­com­pat­ible with any sort of eman­cip­at­ory polit­ics. Nu­mer­ous au­thors have con­trib­uted to this shift in schol­arly opin­ion. To wit: Wil­li­am Alt­man, Fre­drick Ap­pel, Mal­colm Bull, Daniel Con­way, Bruce De­twiler, Don Dom­bow­sky, Ishay Landa, Domen­ico Los­urdo, Corey Robin, and Geoff Waite. The list goes on.

Even a curs­ory glance at these writ­ings, however, suf­fices to re­veal some of the deep fis­sures that run between them. A great meth­od­o­lo­gic­al het­ero­gen­eity in­forms their re­spect­ive ap­proaches. Bull, for ex­ample, in­sists that to over­come the se­duct­ive qual­ity of Ni­et­z­sche’s ideas it is vi­tal not to read like him (“read­ing for vic­tory”);¹ Alt­man seems to be­lieve, in­versely, that in or­der to un­der­mine his per­vas­ive in­flu­ence, it is ne­ces­sary to write like him.² The con­tent of their cri­ti­cisms is far from uni­vocal, either. One com­mon thread that unites them is Ni­et­z­sche’s no­tori­ous hos­til­ity to mod­ern demo­crat­ic ideals, but even then the points of em­phas­is are ex­tremely di­ver­gent. While some crit­ics of Ni­et­z­sche prefer to re­main with­in the realm of polit­ics prop­er, oth­ers re­gister his op­pos­i­tion to demo­cracy at the level of eth­ics or aes­thet­ics. Dom­bow­sky falls in­to the former of these camps, seek­ing to trace out — through a series of elab­or­ate and im­pres­sion­ist­ic in­fer­ences re­gard­ing the au­thor’s read­ing habits, a kind of bib­li­o­graph­ic­al “con­nect the dots” — the secret of “Ni­et­z­sche’s Ma­chiavel­lian dis­ciple­ship.”³ Us­ing a more eth­ic­al frame­work, writers like Con­way rather look “to il­lu­min­ate the…mor­al con­tent of his polit­ic­al teach­ings.”⁴ Con­versely, in his book Ni­et­z­sche Con­tra Demo­cracy, Ap­pel loc­ates Ni­et­z­sche’s anti-demo­crat­ic im­pulse as emer­ging out of his con­cern with artist­ic prac­tices, in the con­stru­al of “polit­ics as aes­thet­ic activ­ity.”⁵

But whatever dif­fer­ences may ex­ist in their in­ter­pret­a­tion of the man and his thought, one thing is cer­tain: the tide has turned de­cis­ively against Ni­et­z­sche on the Left of late. Not that this is an en­tirely un­wel­come de­vel­op­ment. The vogue of French Ni­et­z­schean­ism, from Ba­taille and Deleuze down through Der­rida and Fou­cault, has been every bit as tire­some as its vul­gar anti-Ni­et­z­schean coun­ter­part. In light of the re­cent re­valu­ation of Ni­et­z­sche’s philo­sophy, however, we find ourselves com­pelled to ask wheth­er the anti-Ni­et­z­schean turn of the last few years truly sig­nals an end to the sway his ideas have held over the Left. Are we to be fi­nally dis­ab­used of his “per­ni­cious” in­flu­ence? Is this per­haps the twi­light of the ido­lo­clast?

Malcolm Christ

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Like most ‘Marx­ists,’ Wolfe’s prob­lem is that he’s really a Ni­et­z­schean. He sees everything in terms of war and win­ning.

— Tim Mor­ton, au­thor of Eco­logy
Without Nature, “On Ross Wolfe”

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Friedrich Wil­helm Ni­et­z­sche once au­thored a vir­u­lent po­lem­ic against the Chris­ti­an re­li­gion titled The An­ti­christ. Two years ago, Mal­colm Bull offered a long over­due re­but­tal in the form of his book Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. If Ni­et­z­sche = An­ti­christ and Bull = Anti-Ni­et­z­sche, though, it stands to reas­on that Bull = Anti-An­ti­christ. Ap­ply­ing the prin­ciple of double neg­a­tion to this last equa­tion, the fol­low­ing con­clu­sion proves ir­res­ist­ible: Bull = Christ. Hence, “Mal­colm Christ.”

Of the the­or­ists and his­tor­i­ans who have con­trib­uted to this grow­ing body of anti-Ni­et­z­schean lit­er­at­ure over the last couple dec­ades, Bull is per­haps the most unique. Sur­vey­ing the cri­ti­cisms of Ni­et­z­sche’s work that have ap­peared to date, the Brit­ish art schol­ar finds them all lack­ing in at least one cru­cial re­spect. He claims that in their at­tempt to ex­pose Ni­et­z­sche’s “rhet­or­ic­al strategy,” his crit­ics un­wit­tingly re­use it.⁶ Their eager­ness to dis­cred­it Ni­et­z­sche’s char­ac­ter (his eth­os) or in­dict his philo­sophy as lead­ing straight­away, by its own in­tern­al lo­gic (its lo­gos), to polit­ic­al re­ac­tion, falls prey to the Ni­et­z­schean con­ceit that “one must be su­per­i­or.”⁷ Bull pro­poses a com­pletely dif­fer­ent meth­od of cri­tique. Rather than at­tack Ni­et­z­sche him­self or over­mas­ter his ar­gu­ments, what must in­stead be changed is the way one reads these ar­gu­ments (their pathos).

Bull con­tends that the truly rad­ic­al move is to take Ni­et­z­sche as a man of his word and ac­cept the valid­ity of his claims. The dif­fer­ence here would con­sist in the act of read­ing his texts from an op­pos­ite angle to the one its au­thor in­ten­ded. Since Ni­et­z­sche urges his read­ers to identi­fy with the strong, the cre­at­ive, the vic­tori­ous, Bull of­fers an al­tern­at­ive: “read­ing like a loser.”⁸ “Read­ing like a loser is in­ter­pret­ing the world to one’s own dis­ad­vant­age,” Bull ex­plains, in one of the book’s pith­i­er for­mu­la­tions, “so that the in­ter­pret­a­tion res­ults in loss to the in­ter­pret­er.”⁹ Here the “loser” he has in mind is not the ar­chetyp­ic­al rep­res­ent­at­ive of late ’90s slack­er cul­ture, however, but the for­got­ten, the mis­be­got­ten — in a word, the down­trod­den — of his­tory. To put it dif­fer­ently, we are to identi­fy with the phil­istine, the sub­hu­man, the herd-an­im­al.¹⁰ “Rather than be­ing an ex­hil­ar­at­ing vis­ion of the lim­it­less pos­sib­il­it­ies of hu­man eman­cip­a­tion,” writes Bull, “Ni­et­z­sche’s texts will con­tinu­ally re­mind us of our own weak­ness and me­diocrity.”¹¹

Against equal­ity

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Bull re­turns to the sub­ject of mu­sic and sirens later on, lay­ing bare the Ni­et­z­schean found­a­tions of the French philo­soph­er Jean-Luc Nancy’s work on “com­munity.” The ac­count Nancy provides of the link between “com­mon­al­ity”/“com­mu­nion” and myth has already “been told be­fore — by Ni­et­z­sche, in The Birth of Tragedy.” Bull pro­ceeds: “In Di­onysi­an song and dance, man ex­presses him­self as ‘a mem­ber of a high­er com­munity.’” From Ni­et­z­sche’s tra­gic in­sight, Bull thus draws the start­ling con­clu­sion that “com­mun­ism is mu­sic.”³⁶ That such re­volu­tion­ary polit­ics would be in­scribed in­to an aes­thet­ic me­di­um for Ni­et­z­sche in The Birth of Tragedy should sur­prise no one, however. This work had, of course, been greatly in­spired by Wag­n­er’s es­says writ­ten in the im­me­di­ate af­ter­math of the failed 1848 re­volu­tions. “Art and Re­volu­tion” (1849) and “The Fu­ture Work of Art” (1851) can be even seen as at­tempts by Wag­n­er to real­ize the polit­ic­al goals of 1848 by aes­thet­ic means, as cer­tain schol­ars have noted.³⁷ “Only the great re­volu­tion of man­kind,” in­dic­ated Wag­n­er, “whose be­gin­nings erstwhile shattered Gre­cian tragedy, can win us [the] art­work [of the fu­ture]. For only this re­volu­tion can bring forth from its hid­den depths, in the new beauty of a no­bler uni­ver­sal­ism, that which it once tore from the con­ser­vat­ive spir­it.”³⁸

The re­volu­tion­ary im­plic­a­tions of Bull’s counter-read­ing of Ni­et­z­sche aren’t fully worked out un­til the fi­nal chapter. Here the is­sue of egal­it­ari­an­ism is ad­dressed head on. “Equal­ity has had no fiercer crit­ic than Ni­et­z­sche,” he as­serts. “His re­jec­tion of equal­ity is un­equi­voc­al.”³⁹ But as Bull is quick to point out, Ni­et­z­sche was hardly the only in­tel­lec­tu­al to cri­ti­cize so­cial­ist slo­gans of equal­ity dur­ing this peri­od. Marx like­wise re­jec­ted the egal­it­ari­an plat­forms ad­vanced by his peers.⁴⁰ Marx’s most well-known pas­sages on the sub­ject of equal­ity ap­pear in his Cri­tique of the Gotha Pro­gram, in po­lem­i­ciz­ing against Ferdin­and Las­salle’s doc­trine of in­di­vidu­als’ “equal right” to the pro­ceeds of so­ci­ety’s labor. While ac­know­ledging the un­deni­able mer­it of this prin­ciple as a uni­ver­sal meas­ure of equi­val­ence or ex­change with­in bour­geois so­ci­ety, Marx nev­er­the­less em­phas­ized that it “is still con­stantly en­cumbered by a bour­geois lim­it­a­tion… [E]qual right is an un­equal right for un­equal labor…It is, there­fore, a right of in­equal­ity, in its con­tent, like every right.”⁴¹ It can­not, there­fore, func­tion as the bed­rock for an eman­cip­ated so­ci­ety.

Strangely, Bull does not con­cern him­self in Anti-Ni­et­z­sche with Marx’s cri­tique of Las­sallean no­tions of equal­ity. In­stead, his nar­rat­ive fo­cuses on the Marx­ist ob­jec­tion to the Babeuvi­an “con­spir­acy of equals,” and what he takes to be a fatal flaw in its un­der­es­tim­a­tion of the Lumpen­pro­let­ari­at‘s rad­ic­al po­ten­tial. Ad­opt­ing Bak­un­in’s stand­ard line against Marx, Bull ad­voc­ates a “widen­ing” of the re­volu­tion’s base to in­clude the “losers” of so­ci­ety — what many left­ists today com­monly refer to as the pre­cari­at.⁴² In or­der to cor­rect Marx’s “over­sight” while re­main­ing firmly with­in a Marxi­an frame of ref­er­ence, Bull thus in­vokes Trot­sky’s con­cep­tion of per­man­ent re­volu­tion as mak­ing up for the de­fi­ciency un­der­scored by Bak­un­in: “The pro­let­ari­at, in or­der to con­sol­id­ate its power, can­not but widen the base of the re­volu­tion.”⁴³ Shift­ing gears to a dis­cus­sion of the Gram­s­cian no­tion of pass­ive (as op­posed to act­ive) re­volu­tions, by way of the late eight­eenth-cen­tury Neapol­it­an writer Vin­cenzo Cuoco’s pop­u­list in­clu­sion of a broad­er base of so­ci­ety’s “losers” — “the ‘lazy laz­zaroni,’ Marx’s Lumpen­pro­let­ari­at”⁴⁴ — in the re­volu­tion­ary swell, Bull closes his book by sum­mar­iz­ing:

The ar­gu­ment pivots from lev­el­ing down to lev­el­ing out… Cuoco picks up the idea of an in­ar­tic­u­late people ab­sorb­ing the elite, and turns it in­to the idea of pass­ive re­volu­tion in which the re­volu­tion­ary elite ab­sorb the people, tak­ing on their opin­ions in pro­cess. In Gram­sci’s hands, ex­tend­ing the class base of re­volu­tion is im­pli­citly iden­ti­fied with per­man­ent re­volu­tion, [which] ends by dis­solv­ing the state and with it the pos­sib­il­ity of re­volu­tion it­self.⁴⁵

This is the way world-his­tory ends — with a whim­per and not a bang. Leav­ing aside the an­ti­cli­mactic fi­nale, however, the one oth­er de­tail that leaps out from Bull’s text is the way it main­tains a rather bland, un­ima­gin­at­ive egal­it­ari­an­ism, which is im­me­di­ately equated with re­volu­tion­ary so­cial­ism. Still, Bull is not at all act­ing in bad faith here. Iron­ic­ally, it is his very in­genu­ous­ness that leads him in­to er­ror. By tak­ing Ni­et­z­sche’s own (quite lim­ited) un­der­stand­ing of so­cial­ism at face value, Bull naïvely treats so­cial­ism as syn­onym­ous with the polit­ic­al struggle for equal­ity, since this was how “Ni­et­z­sche him­self iden­ti­fied…the egal­it­ari­an projects of demo­cracy and so­cial­ism.”⁴⁶

Re­lated re­views

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Ig­or Stramignoni’s “Book Re­view: Anti-Ni­et­z­sche“ (Lon­don School of Eco­nom­ics)
C. De­r­ick Varn’s “Re­view: Anti-Ni­et­z­sche“ (The Loy­al Op­pos­i­tion to Mod­ern­ity)
Cost­ica Bradatan’s “Anti-Ni­et­z­sche“ (Times High­er Edu­ca­tion)
Decca Mul­downey’s “‘Read­ing like a loser’ — Cost­ica Bradatan re­views Anti-Ni­et­z­sche” (Verso Books)
Dav­id Winter’s “Read­ing Like a Loser” (The New In­quiry)
Keith An­sell-Pear­son’s “The Fu­ture is Sub­hu­man” (Rad­ic­al Philo­sophy)

Notes

¹ “Read­ing for vic­tory is the way Ni­et­z­sche him­self thought people ought to read.” Bull, Mal­colm. Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. (Verso Books. New York, NY: 2011).
² As Domen­ico Los­urdo blurbs on the back of his book, “Alt­man…ad­opts Ni­et­z­sche’s own aph­or­ist­ic genre in or­der to use it against him.” Alt­man him­self ex­plains: “[T]he whole point of writ­ing in Ni­et­z­sche’s own style was to demon­strate how much power over his read­ers he gains by plunging him in­to the midst of what may be a path­less ocean, con­fus­ing them as to their des­tin­a­tion.” Alt­man, Wil­li­am. Friedrich Wil­helm Ni­et­z­sche: The Philo­soph­er of the Second Reich. (Lex­ing­ton Books. New York, NY: 2012). Pg. xi. Later Alt­man ad­mits, however, that “[t]his kind of writ­ing pre­sumes, of course, good read­ers.” Ibid., pg. 181.
³ Dom­browsky, Don. Ni­et­z­sche’s Ma­chiavel­lian Polit­ics. (Pal­grave Mac­Mil­lan. New York, NY: 2004). Pg. 134.
⁴ Con­way, Daniel. Ni­et­z­sche and the Polit­ic­al. (Rout­ledge. New York, NY: 1997). Pg. 119.
⁵ Ap­pel, Fre­drick. Ni­et­z­sche Con­tra Demo­cracy. (Cor­nell Uni­versity Press. Ithaca, NY: 1999). Pg. 120.
⁶ “[I]n un­cov­er­ing Ni­et­z­sche’s rhet­or­ic­al strategy [they] re­use it.” Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 32.
⁷ Ibid., pg. 33.
⁸ Ibid., passim, pgs. 35-38, 42, 47-48, 51, 74-76, 98, 100, 135, 139, 143.
…In­deed, Bull’s call to “read like a loser” grants to the es­says in Anti-Ni­et­z­sche their her­men­eut­ic in­teg­rity. This for­mu­la­tion has since gone on to be­come one of the book’s most cel­eb­rated phrases, as well, charm­ing re­view­ers from New In­quiry’s Dav­id Win­ters to Cost­ica Bar­digan of the Times High­er Edu­ca­tion. Win­ters, Dav­id. “Read­ing Like a Loser.” New In­quiry. (Feb­ru­ary 14, 2012). Bar­digan, Cost­ica. “Re­view of Mal­colm Bull’s Anti-Ni­et­z­sche.” Times High­er Edu­ca­tion. (Janu­ary 29, 2012). Even long­time ad­mirers of Ni­et­z­sche like T.J. Clark ad­mit its in­ter­pret­ive power: “[N]o oth­er cri­tique of Ni­et­z­sche, and there have been many, con­jures up the ac­tu­al read­er of Day­break and The Case of Wag­n­er so un­nerv­ingly.” Clark, T.J. “My Un­known Friends: A Re­sponse to Mal­colm Bull.” Ni­et­z­sche’s Neg­at­ive Eco­lo­gies. (Uni­versity of Cali­for­nia Press. Berke­ley, CA: 2009). Pg. 79.
⁹ Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pgs. 135-136.
¹⁰ The phil­istine: ibid., pgs. 1-26, 38-40, 43, 46-48, 53, 151; the sub­hu­man: ibid., pgs. 40-43, 46-48, 91, 101-102, 123-124; the herd: ibid., pg. 41-42, 67, 72, 74-76, 138, 146, 160-162.
¹¹ Ibid., pg. 37.
¹² These to­geth­er com­prise what Bull calls “the his­tory of neg­a­tion.” Ibid., pgs. 7-13.
¹³ Ibid., pgs. 39-40.
¹⁴ Ibid., pg. 39.
¹⁵ Ibid., pgs. 13-16, 18-19.
¹⁶ “Meas­ures like those taken on Odys­seus’s ship in face of the Sirens are a pres­ci­ent al­legory of the dia­lectic of en­light­en­ment.” Ad­orno, Theodor and Horkheimer, Max. Dia­lectic of En­light­en­ment: Philo­soph­ic­al Frag­ments. Trans­lated by Ed­mund Jeph­cott. (Stan­ford Uni­versity Press. Stan­ford, CA: 2002). Pg. 27.
…This runs counter to the pre­vail­ing in­ter­pret­a­tion of this work, as schol­ars tend to place Ni­et­z­sche’s in­flu­ence chiefly in its second ex­cursus, on “Ju­li­ette, or En­light­en­ment and mor­al­ity.” Ibid., pgs. 63-93.
¹⁷ Ibid., pg. 19, and fur­ther, pgs. 20-22.
¹⁸ Ad­orno and Horkheimer, Dia­lectic of En­light­en­ment. Pgs. 25-27.
¹⁹ “If it is weak­ness of will that al­lows the phil­istine to res­ist the beau­ti­ful, might it lead us to re­con­sider our un­der­stand­ing of Odys­seus and the Sirens? In Ad­orno and Horkheimer’s re­work­ing of the myth, Odys­seus hears the mu­sic and would have re­spon­ded to its call to prim­or­di­al unity had he not been con­strained from do­ing so. He is an ex­ample of dis­in­terest tri­umph­ing over the pas­sions, in which the dis­in­ter­ested con­tem­pla­tion of the song is ac­tu­ally a form of self-in­terest. It is be­cause he knows he lacks the strength of will to res­ist the beauty of the Sirens’ song that he has him­self tied to the mast. This is weak­ness as in­con­tin­ence, but it is self-in­terest, not in­con­tin­ence, that turns Odys­seus in­to a phil­istine. The weak­ness of So­crates takes an­oth­er form, closer to that which Ar­is­totle calls soft­ness. Know­ing he ought to ap­pre­ci­ate the mu­sic of the Sirens, he is nev­er­the­less un­able to do so. He does not hear the beauty of the song; he may not even hear the song as a song.” Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 152.
²⁰ Ad­orno and Horkheimer, Dia­lectic of En­light­en­ment. Pgs. 26-27.
²¹ Ibid., pg. 27.
²² Mar­cuse, Her­bert. The Aes­thet­ic Di­men­sion: To­ward a Cri­tique of Marx­ist Aes­thet­ics. Trans­lated and re­vised by Her­bert Mar­cuse and Erica Sher­over. (Beacon Press. Bo­ston, MA: 1978). Pgs. 56-57.
²³ “Ni­et­z­sche nev­er uses the word, but the form of this re­valu­ation of valu­ing is per­haps most ac­cur­ately de­scribed as eco­lo­gic­al, not be­cause Ni­et­z­sche ex­hib­ited any par­tic­u­lar con­cern for the nat­ur­al en­vir­on­ment, but on ac­count of the un­pre­ced­en­ted con­junc­tion of two ideas: the re­cog­ni­tion of the in­ter­de­pend­ence of val­ues, and the eval­u­ation of value in bio­lo­gic­al terms.” Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 44.
²⁴ Ibid., pg. 47.
²⁵ Ibid., pgs. 87-88.
²⁶ Ibid., pg. 102.
²⁷ Ibid., pg. 123.
²⁸ Ibid., pgs. 90-92, 94-100.
²⁹ Ni­et­z­sche here ad­dresses “the prob­lem of…good as thought up by the man of res­sen­ti­ment, de­mands its solu­tion. — There is noth­ing strange about the fact that lambs bear a grudge to­wards large birds of prey: but that is no reas­on to blame the large birds of prey for car­ry­ing off the little lambs. And if the lambs say to each oth­er, ‘These birds of prey are evil; and who­ever is least like a bird of prey and most like its op­pos­ite, a lamb, — is good, isn’t he?’, then there is no reas­on to raise ob­jec­tions to this set­ting-up of an ideal bey­ond the fact that the birds of prey will view it some­what de­ris­ively, and will per­haps say: ‘We don’t bear any grudge at all to­wards these good lambs, in fact we love them, noth­ing is tasti­er than a tender lamb.’ — It is just as ab­surd to ask strength not to ex­press it­self as strength, not to be a de­sire to over­throw, crush, be­come mas­ter, to be a thirst for en­emies, res­ist­ance and tri­umphs, as it is to ask weak­ness to ex­press it­self as strength.” Ni­et­z­sche, Friedrich. On the Gene­a­logy of Mor­al­ity. Trans­lated by Car­ol Di­ethe. (Cam­bridge Uni­versity Press. New York, NY: 2006). Pgs. 25-26.
³⁰ Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 42.
³¹ Marx, Karl. Cap­it­al: A Cri­tique of Polit­ic­al Eco­nomy, Volume 1. Trans­lated by Ben­jamin Fowkes. (Pen­guin Books. New York, NY: 1982). Pg. 143.
³² Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 46.
³³ Ibid., pg. 43.
³⁴ Ibid., pg. 47.
³⁵ Ni­et­z­sche, Friedrich. Bey­ond Good and Evil: Pre­lude to a Philo­sophy of the Fu­ture. Trans­lated by Ju­dith Nor­man. (Cam­bridge Uni­versity Press. New York, NY: 2002). Pg. 91, §203.
³⁶ Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pgs. 117-120.
³⁷ “Wag­n­er wrote the es­say shortly after the fail­ure of the 1848 re­volu­tion; it rep­res­ents an at­tempt to achieve the polit­ic­al aims of the 1848 up­ris­ing through aes­thet­ic means.” Groys, Bor­is. “A Gene­a­logy of Par­ti­cip­at­ory Art.” Trans­lated by Dav­id Fern­bach. In­tro­duc­tion to An­ti­philo­sophy. (Verso Books. New York, NY: 2012). Pg. 201.
³⁸ Wag­n­er, Richard. “Art and Re­volu­tion.” Trans­lated by Wil­li­am Ashton El­lis. Prose Works, Volume 1. (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd. Lon­don, Eng­land: 1895). Pg. 53.
³⁹ Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 153.
⁴⁰ Ibid., pg. 162.
⁴¹ Marx, Karl. Cri­tique of the Gotha Pro­gram. Trans­lated by Peter and Betty Ross. Col­lec­ted Works, Volume 24: Marx and En­gels, 1874-1883. (In­ter­na­tion­al Pub­lish­ers. New York, NY: 1989). Pg. 86.
⁴² “As Bak­un­in noted, Marx con­spicu­ously ex­cluded from the agents of re­volu­tion the Lumpen­pro­let­ari­at…In con­trast, Bak­un­in ad­voc­ated ‘the eman­cip­a­tion and widest pos­sible ex­pan­sion of so­cial life.’” Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 158.
⁴³ Trot­sky, Le­on. The Per­man­ent Re­volu­tion. Trans­lated by John G. Wright and Bri­an Pearce. (Pathfind­er Press. New York, NY: 1978). Pg. 70.
…“Trot­sky’s re­for­mu­la­tion of the idea of per­man­ent re­volu­tion picks up both of Bak­un­in’s ob­jec­tions.” Bull, Anti-Ni­et­z­sche. Pg. 158.
⁴⁴ Ibid., pg. 171.
⁴⁵ Ibid., pg. 175.
⁴⁶ “The skilled Dan­ish crit­ic [Georg Brandes (a Jew and lib­er­al crit­ic, dis­cover­er of the Ger­man philo­soph­er’s ‘ar­is­to­crat­ic rad­ic­al­ism’)] did not take Ni­et­z­sche’s bar­bar­ism ser­i­ously, not at face value, [but] un­der­stood it cum grano salis, in which he was very right.” Mann, Thomas. “Ni­et­z­sche’s Philo­sophy in Light of Re­cent Events.” Ad­dresses De­livered at the Lib­rary of Con­gress, 1942-1949. (Wild­side Press LLC. Wash­ing­ton, DC: 2008). Pg. 99.