Author's statement: this is an essay I wrote for my Philosophy of Literature class which was looking in depth at Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
The aphorisms of ‘heights’ and ‘depths’ appear constantly throughout Thus Spoke Zarathustra. In Zarathustra’s Prologue, while speaking to the sun after leaving his cave, Zarathustra declares that he “must go under [...] to [men] I want to descend” (pp. 122). He descends both literally, down from his mountain to the people of ‘the Motley Cow,’ and figuratively, to men; he must leave his solitude to converse with the herd. While Zarathustra does so willingly, the spirit of gravity embodies all that which pulls us down from the heights.
This concept of the spirit of gravity is arguably the most fundamental theme in Thus Spoke Zarathustra (TSZ) that acts as a grounding of sorts for Nietzsche’s other main ideas in the text. This essay’s goal is to make sense of the spirit of gravity by analyzing how it relates to the rest of the book; that is, specifically, its influence on the will to power and the eternal return. This paper will also make it clear that such an understanding then makes it possible to affirm life in the first place.
The aphorism On Reading and Writing provides us with potent symbolism to elevation and the spirit of gravity. For example, to start, Zarathustra states that “you look up when you feel the need for elevation. And I look down because I am elevated” (pp. 152). Zarathustra ‘looks down’ on the townspeople; he’s far above them, in the peaks of mountains, reaching his highest potential, while the townspeople, stuck in the depths, will stare up longingly and vicariously (rather than reach the heights, they ‘look up’ to satiate their need). Zarathustra continues: “whoever climbs the highest mountains laughs at all tragic plays and tragic seriousness.” (pp. 153) Reaching the heights involves the ability to laugh at the despair and ‘seriousness’ around us. This brings us, conversely, to the spirit of gravity: “when I saw my devil I found him cold and serious.” The heights, defined by laughter and dance, are contrasted with gravity’s cold and serious demeanor(^1). Zarathustra rejects this and, instead, encourages us to “kill the spirit of gravity” with laughter — overcoming the seriousness of life with his anti-serious-philosophy, the same philosophy embraced by the child.
To further understand the spirit of gravity as a concept, we can look at the chapter On the Spirit of Gravity itself. Nietzsche begins part 1 of the chapter with Zarathustra describing his body and its abilities (those which he will use to overcome gravity). He writes: “my tongue is of the people [...] My Hand is a fool’s hand [...] My foot is a cloven foot [...] My stomach [...] is the stomach of some bird” (pp. 303-304); this description of his body is meant to show what Zarathustra is equipped with, so-to-speak, to go against the spirit of gravity. His “tongue of the people” is vulgar — it speaks “too crudely and heartily for Angora rabbits” (soft and cuddly creatures). Zarathustra has the frankness of a sailor in that he embraces the ‘common-tongue’ rather than a serious & academic penmanship. Zarathustra’s ‘fool’s hand,’ one which skillfully draws and scribbles on walls and tables (pp. 304)(^2), is another weapon in his arsenal against seriousness. The “cloven foot” (which may also be translated as “horse’s-foot” from the original German (Pferdefuss)) is one which runs freely (in On Reading and Writing, Nietzsche uses vocabulary like “running” and “flying” to articulate his freedom against the spirit of gravity).
Lastly, Zarathustra’s stomach is a bird’s stomach, likely that of an eagle, as “it likes lamb best of all.” While it’s tempting to read this as Zarathustra ‘preying’ on ‘the sheep’ or ‘the herd,’ it's important to note that he follows this with “nourished on innocent things[.]” This seems, more likely then, to say that Zarathustra’s eagle-stomach is ‘satiated’ by the innocent things such as “butterflies, soap bubbles […] light, foolish, delicate, mobile little souls [that] flutter” (pp. 153) as he states “seduces [him] to tears'' back in On Reading and Writing. These are “lambs” in that a lamb is specifically less than 12 months old (an innocent and youthful child), rather than a sheep which has become indoctrinated into the herd. This is even more evident later in the chapter when Zarathustra claims that, “from the cradle [we are taught] ‘good’ and ‘evil’ [.]” (pp. 305) The lamb, or child, rather, is only later-on corrupted by the spirit of gravity (through the teachings of the herd) as it also “forbids them [...] to love themselves.”
The bird’s stomach, however, has a much greater symbolic value if we also imagine the eagle as the will to power. Throughout TSZ, we see the eagle as an aphorism for the will to power: Zarathustra claims himself to be “an enemy of the spirit of gravity, that is the bird’s way [...] a primordial enemy.” A bird’s ability to fly is precisely that which defies gravity: this is what Zarathustra admires in the eagle. Interestingly enough, in section 2 of the same chapter, Zarathustra mentions “the ostrich who runs faster than the fastest horse, but even he buries his head gravely in the grave earth; even so, the man who has not yet learned to fly.” Flight, what the ostrich lacks and cannot makeup in speed, is therefore an essential part of overcoming gravity — flight is the will to power over the seriousness of gravity; it is the skill of the ability to reach the heights without much of a struggle — it is unrestricted freedom to will what one wills.
The concept of the spirit of gravity is also pertinent to the eternal return, particularly in its symbolism involving the serpent and the dwarf. On a surface level, the serpent is quite literally always under the ‘curse’ of gravity — it’s stuck to the ground, it crawls on its belly, and is constantly subject to the depths. The eternal return, similarly, is subject to the aforementioned seriousness: one must live through the worst struggles of their life, that seriousness which gravity is constantly stacking on one’s back, for eternity. To live in the face of this seriousness is what the serpent must do every day — subscribing to this idea (that is, the serpent as a metaphor for the eternal return, yet totally engulfed by gravity) has interesting implications, in this case with On the Vision and the Riddle. As we can see at the end of this chapter, the shepherd bites off the head of the snake, killing that which chokes him: in our case, the curse of gravity (pp. 272). This is why Zarathustra ends the chapter with the shepherd laughing: he writes “no longer shepherd, no longer human—one changed, radiant, laughing! Never yet on earth has a human being laughed as he laughed!”(pp. 272) The serpent as the ultimate subject to the spirit of gravity is killed, followed up with the ex-shepherd’s laughter and his transformation into the overman, are all made possible because the spirit of gravity, the serpent, is killed. This is why the overman laughs, in that he has learned to overcome the spirit of gravity.
As for the dwarf, the spirit of gravity first appears physically as the dwarf: he sits on Zarathustra’s chest and pours lead in his ear. He reminds Zarathustra that “every stone that is thrown must fall” (pp. 268). Everything “oppresses” Zarathustra in this moment, until, he remembers, he “has something in [him] that [he] calls courage.”(^3) He says “courage [...] is the best slayer[, it] slays death itself, for it says, ‘was that life? Well then! Once more!’” This courage in the face of gravity involves, specifically and most importantly, life affirmation in the face of the eternal return. The dwarf “murmurs contemptuously” that “all that is straight lies [...] all truth is crooked; time itself is a circle.” In Zarathustra’s response, he notes that this view is “too easy;” the spirit of gravity (and seriousness; the depths and nihilism) is an easy trap to fall into. Here, Nietzsche is responding to those who may read his book and find his concepts of the eternal return or the will to power ‘unimportant’ (as does the dwarf). Zarathustra responds “‘you spirit of gravity,’ I said angrily, ‘do not make this too easy for yourself! [...] it was I that carried you to this height’” (pp. 270). The reason that the dwarf can act so “contemptuously” in the face of the eternal return and the will to lie is the key difference between him and Zarathustra: Zarathustra has lived and internalized(^4) these ideas whereas the dwarf is only looking at the rationale or logic of these ideas. This is why Zarathustra reiterates himself in the following paragraph — “what do you think, dwarf, of this moment?” Surely, the dwarf already knows about the eternal return (he claimed to know that “time is a circle” just moments before), yet Zarathustra is making an argument of Pathos (an argument of emotion; of ‘feeling’).
This ties neatly into On the Spirit of Gravity, where Nietzsche poses that “[one who says] ‘this is my good and evil’ [...] has reduced to silence the mole and dwarf who say ‘good for all, evil for all.’” This is why, following Zarathustra’s reiteration of the significance of the eternal return in On the Vision and the Riddle, the dwarf disappears (causing him to question whether or not he is in a dream) — this is also the last time the dwarf himself appears in the book (he is mentioned various other times, but never comes back after being “silenced”).
To sum up, the influence of the spirit of gravity on the eternal return and the will to power is one that operates as a fundamental building-block in understanding the importance of these two concepts: without gravity, flying loses its magnificence. Without gravity, there’s no difficulty in scaling the tallest mountain. Without gravity, affirming the eternal return is a much simpler question, but this is to its detriment, as, after all, only after regaining the courage against the spirit of gravity can Zarathustra affirm the eternal return (and only with a view comprised too easily does the dwarf misunderstand the eternal return only through reason). In recognizing the importance of one’s life and experience can one affirm their eternal return; Zarathustra praises those who follow their own path (“my good and evil” (pp. 306); “in many ways, I reached my truth;”(pp. 307) “this is my way; where is yours? [...] For the way — that does not exist.”).
With all of this given, life affirmation itself is only possible due to the agonic relationship (the fundamental view of Nietzsche’s as ‘force pushing against force’) that our lives and our striving for the heights have with the spirit of gravity. Becoming the overman involves killing and laughing at the spirit of gravity. In On the Three Metamorphoses, Zarathustra says “the child is innocent and forgetting, a new beginning, a game, a self-propelled wheel” (pp. 139). One might assume that the spirit of gravity does not apply to the child, yet this ignores the aforementioned importance of gravity; a wheel which moves on its own is not exempt from gravity in this case, but, instead, its will is so powerful that it “[does not need] to be pushed before moving along” (pp. 153), as Zarathustra exclaims to feel since learning to fly in On Reading and Writing. With this reading, the eternal return, the will to power, the birth of the overman, and life affirmation, are all made possible simply by understanding the spirit of gravity in some way or another. Whether it sets its importance, such as with the will to power and eternal return, or the concept hinges on its overcoming, such as with the overman and life affirmation, none of these concepts are realistically achievable without truly internalizing the significance of our depths and heights: realizing the struggle against the spirit of gravity and having the courage to face it.
Footnotes
1. “Seriousness, the most unmistakable sign of a labored metabolism, of struggling, laborious life.” (Kaufmann, On The Genealogy of Morals, Third Essay, Section 25) This is a clearer example of Nietzsche’s view on seriousness; the spirit of gravity embodies the laborious ‘to-and-fro’s’ of life that drags one down from reaching the heights. Also, a ‘serious situation’ often has a lot of ‘gravity,’ colloquially.
2. “Beware, all tables and walls and whatever else still has room for foolish frill or scribbling skill.” This also represents, perhaps both exoterically and esoterically, the child: one which draws (to the parents’ dismay) on furniture and walls.
3. “Courage wants to laugh,” (pp. 152) in On Reading and Writing, shows us again how laughter is a helpful tool against gravity; Zarathustra must learn courage against the dwarf and the spirit of gravity.
4. “I am the stronger of us two: you do not know my abysmal thought. That you could not bear!” A thought is personal (and of lived experience) to Zarathustra; his “abysmal thought” is “loneliest loneliness” where the demon of eternal return comes to him — to understand the weight of the eternal return, one must live it.
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