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編輯推薦

　　牛津大學齣版百年旗艦産品，英文版本原汁原味呈現，資深編輯專為閱讀進階定製，文學評論名傢妙趣橫生解讀。

內容簡介

　　希臘藝術曆來引起美學傢們的極大興趣。在尼采之前，德國啓濛運動的代錶人物均以人與自然、感情與理性的和諧來說明希臘藝術繁榮的原因。在《悲劇的誕生》中，尼采一反傳統，認為希臘藝術的繁榮不是源於希臘人內心的和諧，而是源於他們內心的痛苦和衝突：因為過於看清人生的悲劇性質，所以産生日神和酒神兩種藝術衝動，要用藝術來拯救人生。尼采的美學觀影響瞭一大批作傢、藝術傢的人生觀及其作品的思想內容。

作者簡介

　　弗裏德裏希·尼采（Friedrich Nietzsche, 1844—1900）　著名德國思想傢，詩人哲學傢。他強力批判西方傳統的基督教文化，否定基督教傳統的道德體係，主張重估一切價值；他提倡創造一種生存的意義，為後來的存在主義奠定瞭基礎，被譽為存在主義的先驅之一；他熱愛生命，提倡昂然的生命力和奮發的意誌力，肯定人世間的價值，給歐洲古典哲學注入新鮮血液並開闢瞭古典語言學的嶄新時代。從這個意義上說，他開創瞭人類思想史的新紀元，哲學史可以以尼采前和尼采後來劃分。在尼采之後，傳統的哲學體係解體瞭，哲學由非存在轉變為存在，從天上迴到地上，由神奇莫測、玄而又玄轉變為引起億萬人心靈的無限共鳴。

精彩書評

　　尼采知道什麼是哲學，而這種知道是稀罕的。唯有偉大的思想傢纔擁有這種知道。
　　——海德格爾
　　
　　尼采是一個啓示。我是滿懷激情地讀他的書，並改變瞭我的生活。
　　——福　柯
　　
　　老子與尼采的相同之處，是他們兩人同是反抗有神論的宗教思想，同是反抗藩籬個性的繼成道德，同是以個人為本位而力求積極的發展。
　　——郭沫若

目錄

Introduction
Note on the Translation
Select Bibliography
A Chronology of Friedrich Nietzsche
THE BIRTH OF TRAGEDY
Explanatory Notes
Index

精彩書摘

　　ATTEMPT AT A SELF-CRITICISM
　　1
　　Whatever may lie at the bottom of this questionable book: it must have been a question of the greatest interest and appeal, as well as a deeply personal question—as witnessed by the time in which it was written, In Spite of which it was written, the exciting time of the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1. While the thunder of the battle of W?rth died away over Europe, the exasperated friend of perplexing puzzles who “as to father this hook sat in some corner or other of the Alps, very perplexed and puzzled, at once very careworn and carefree, and wrote down his thoughts on the Greeks—the core of this wonderful and dif?cult book to which this belated foreword (or afterword) is to he added. Some weeks later: he found himself beneath the walls of Metz, still pursued by the question marks which he had added to the alleged ‘serenity’* of the Greeks and of Greek art; until ?nally in that month of the greatest tension, as peace was being negotiated in Versailles,* he made his peace with himself and, during a slow convalescence from an illness brought home from the ?eld of battle, completed the de?nitive version of the ‘Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music’.—From music? Music and tragedy? The Greeks and the music of tragedy? The Greeks and the pessimistic work of art? The most accomplished, most beautiful, most envied type of men so far, the most persuasive of life’s seductions, the Greeks —what? they were the very people who needed tragedy? Even more—art? To what end—Greek art? …
　　One may surmise where all this places the great question mark of the value of existence Is pessimism necessarily the sign of decline, decay, of the failure of the exhausted and weakened instincts?—Is it was for the Indians,* as it is to all appearances for us ‘modern’ men and Europeans? is there such a thing as a strong pessimism? An intellectual preference for the hard, horri?c, evil, problematic aspects of existence which stems from well-being, from overflowing health, from an abundance of existence? Might it even be possible to suffer from this over-abundance? A tempting courage of the most intense gaze, which yearns for the fearful as for the enemy, the worthy enemy, 0n whom it can test it strength? from whom it wants to learn what ‘fear’* is? What is the meaning, for the Greeks of the best, strongest, bravest period in particular, of the tragic myth? Ant of the tremendous phenomenon of the Dionysian? What, tragedy born of that? —And on the other hand: that which killed tragedy, the Socratism* of morality, the dialectic, the modesty and serenity of the theoretical man—what? might this very Socratism itself not be it sign of decline, of exhaustion, of ailing health, of the anarchic dissolution of the instincts? So the ‘Greek serenity’ of the late Hellenic period would be nothing more than a sunset? The l‘Epicurean* will against pessimism only a precaution on the part of the suffering man? And science itself, our science—yes, what is the meaning of all science anyway, viewed as a symptom of life? To what end, even worse, from what source—does all science proceed? What? Is the scienti?c approach perhaps only a fear and an evasion of pessimism? A re?ned means of self-defence against—the truth? And, in moral term, something like faint-heartedness and falsehood? In amoral terms, a sly move? O Socrates, Socrates, might this have been your secret? O most secret ironist, might this have been your—irony?—
　　2
　　What I began to grapple with at that time was something fearful and dangerous, a problem with horns, not necessarily a bull exactly, but in any case a new problem: today I would call it the problem of science itself—science grasped for the ?rst time as problematic, as questionable. But the book in which my youthful courage and suspicion found expression at that time—what an impossible book had to grow out of a task so uncongenial to youth! Constructed from nothing but precocious and under-ripe personal experiences, all of which bordered on the inexpressible, and erected on the ground of art—since the problem of science cannot he recognized on its own ground—it is a hook perhaps for artists with an inclination to retrospection and analysis (that is, for an exceptional kind of artist, who is not easy to ?nd and whom one would not Care to seek out . . .), full of psychological innovations and artistic furtiveness, with a background of artistic metaphysics, a youthful work full of the exuberance and melancholy of youth, independent, de?antly Self-reliant even where it seems to defer to an authority and personal reverence, in short a ?rst work also in the had sense of the term, a work af?icted, in spite of the ancient nature of its problem, with the pen of youth, above all with its ‘excessive length’, its ‘Storm and Stress’:* on the other hand, with respect to the success it enjoyed (particularly with the great artist to whom it was addressed as in a dialogue, Richard Wagner*), a book witch has proven itself, I mean one which has in any ease measured up to the ‘best of its time'.*As a result, it should he handled with some consideration and discretion; nevertheless, I have no desire to suppress entirely how disagreeable it appears to me now, how unfamiliar it looks to me now after sixteen years to—an older eye, an eye grown a hundred times more discriminating, hut an eye grown no colder, no less familiar with the audacious task ?rst undertaken by this daring book—that of viewing science through the optic of the artist, and art through the optic of life. . .
　　3
　　To say it once again, today I ?nd it an impossible book—l ?nd it badly written, clumsy, embarrassing, furious and frenzied in its imagery, emotional, in places saccharine to an effeminate degree, uneven in pace, lacking in a will to logical hygiene,* a book of such utter conviction as to disdain proof, and even to doubt the propriety of proof as such, a book fur initiates, ‘music’ for such as are baptized in music, for those who are from the very beginning bound together in a strange shared experience of art, a password by means of which blood relations in artibus* can recognize one another—an arrogant and infatuated book which from the outset sought to exclude the profanum vulgus* of the ‘educated’ even more than the ‘people’, but which, as its in?uence proved and continues to prove, must be capable enough of seeking out its fellow infatuated enthusiasts and of luring them in a dance along new secret paths. What found expression here in any case—and this was conceded With as much curiosity as aversion —was an unfamiliar voice, the disciple of a still ‘unknown god’,* who concealed himself under the cap of the scholar the ponderousness and dialectical ill humour of the German. and even under the bad manners of the Wagnerian; what was encountered here was a spirit with unfamiliar needs, as yet unnamed, it memory of bursting with questions, experiences, hidden reaches, to which the name Dionysus* was added as another question mark; what spoke here—as one remarked suspiciously—resembled the soul of a mystic or a Maenad* almost, stammering as it were randomly and with great effort in an unfamiliar tongue, almost uncertain whether to communicate or conceal itself. It should have sung, this ‘new soul’—rather than spoken!* What a pity that I did not dare to say what I had to say then as a poet: I might have managed it! Or at least as a philologist:*—even today; almost everything has yet to be discovered and excavated by the philologist! Above all, the problem that here is a problem here—and that the Greeks, as long as we have to answer to the question ‘what is Dionysian?’ still remain completely unknown and unimaginable. . .
　　4
　　Yes, what is Dionysian? —This book provides an answer —‘a man who knows‘ speaks in it, the initiate and disciple of his gods Nowadays, perhaps, I w 牛津英文經典：悲劇的誕生（英文版） [The Birth of Tragedy] 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書

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