Nietzsche modifies the quintessentially German notion of the forest as an idyll, which our author described in the first part of this two-part series (link). This follow-up aims to precisely understand this modification and its significance for our time.

Nietzsche’s preferred landscape for thought is the high mountains. In this context, the forest becomes important as the tree line—a zone where life is just barely possible before it freezes. For Nietzsche, the timberline becomes the muse of a thinker who lives dangerously and always on the edge. Modernity can thus be described as a cultural high forest that is constantly on the verge of withering; the fading of the idyll of forest solitude is obvious to the Germans. Nietzsche’s stance is long past being an elitist attitude; in post-war modernity, for instance within various subcultures, it has become a mass mentality. In the current movement of social radicalization, however, we are observing a new kind of mass resentment—to escape it, we must relearn the art of shaping our own lives as a heroic idyll on the edge of the abyss.

Is there a connection between place and thought? How might Nietzsche’s philosophy and the forest be linked?

In German culture, the forest often appears as the epitome of the idyllic. In the penultimate part of our series “The Forest as a Living Foundation”, our author Michael Meyer-Albert argues that Nietzsche gave this idyll a completely new form by dynamizing it.

He begins by discussing two forms of the traditional idyll. While the classical idyll in Southern European traditions (such as in Virgil) tended to celebrate the sunny, Arcadian pastoral landscape or the orderly garden, the philosophical idyll is found within the walls of the academy. A refuge from doxa, a tribute to the logos.

Meyer-Albert then analyzes the German forest as a specifically German form of the idyll using the term “Waldeinsamkeit” (forest solitude), coined by the Romantic writer Ludwig Tieck (1773–1853). Here, the forest is understood as a near-religiously charged sanctuary from the demands of modernity. If defended aggressively, this romanticism can quickly turn into reactionary mythology—even in a modern, left-wing guise.

Nietzsche’s modification of the anti-modern German forest idyll into a heroic idyll that affirms modernity serves as a counter-proposal to all these traditional forms of the idyllic—this will be the focus of the second part of this article (link).

Forests are trending. And this is by no means contradictory to another, even larger trend of our time: digitalization. In this article, Mandus Craiss demonstrates that the forest is a network. Digitalization also occurs in a network-like manner; both phenomena are therefore characteristic of postmodernism.  

In the first part of the article, the forest is characterized as a non-centralized and thus typically postmodern natural phenomenon. The second part defines "postmodernity" and discusses the extent to which this epochal concept is still, or once again, relevant – a discourse whose very early roots can be traced back to Nietzsche. Finally, the third part explains how the network aspect of postmodernity manifests itself and how the human-forest relationship has evolved recently.

This article is part of our special series this year "the forest as a livelihood".

Throughout his life, Nietzsche was a great critic of nationalism. The burgeoning German national sentiment, in particular, was anathema to him, and he wrote scathing remarks about his home country, such as "definition of the Germanic: obedience and long legs..."¹. At the same time, nationalists and patriots of all stripes count among his fans. How can one be a Nietzschean and a (German) nationalist? What exactly is "nationalism," and is it possible to give this term a positive meaning?

Paul Stephan discussed these delicate topics, which are gaining increasing relevance given the successes of nationalist parties worldwide, in written form with YouTuber, Nietzsche expert, and nationalism researcher Michael Drescher, also known as PhrasenDrescher.

Additionally, they continued this dialogue verbally on YouTube – feel free to check out the result here (or as an audio-only version on SoundCloud).

Time and again, our blog is dedicated to overlooked figures from the Nietzscheverse. The Leipzig Anglist Elmar Schenkel went deep into the archives for us in order to introduce you to an almost unknown figure of French-language Nietzsche reception: the “taxi philosopher” Jean-Baptiste Botul, who lived from 1896 to 1947 and not only came into contact with numerous prominent figures of his time on his trips through Paris, but developed also, in conversations with them, his very own Nietzsche interpretation, which, due to its subversive explosive power, has been stored in the poison cabinet by the mainstream of Nietzsche research to the present day. If Nietzsche was, in his own words, “dynamite,” then Botul is a rocket of the Force de frappe, still awaiting detonation — a stroke of luck?