Understanding the Dark Images of Fredrich Wilheim Nietzche : A Verbal Synopsis of the Classical Treatise for the Novice

© 2000, Rick Call  

Without any doubt, many of us would agree that Fredrich Wilheim Nietzche was one of the greatest thinkers and philosophers of the last Millennium.  In the next few minutes, I will offer an in-depth analysis of the early writings of Nietzche that manifested the common threads of his existentialist viewpoints that became the weavings for his final days of triumph, darkness and, eventual madness.

Nietzche, though overtly brilliant, lived an often tragic and chaotic existence.  Early on in his life, he forged relationships that soon turned stormy, with the likes of Richard Wagner and the historians Franz Overbeck and Jacob Burkhardt. During these years, he suffered from diphtheria and dysentery and continued to have a variety of traumatic and painful health problems throughout the remainder of his life.  These primal underpinnings of his existence are often thought to have influenced his views that Western culture had adopted the Apollonian approaches of logical order and sobriety and rejected the earlier Greek Dionysian energy that was founded in creativity and non-rational forces.  Much of these views, were expressed in the 1872 publication of The Birth of Tragedy, Out of the Spirit of Music.

However, despite his disdain for the rigid views of Western man and Victorian society, Nietzsche always had a keen eye for fashion.  In 1875, after noticing a stableman tying a Thanksgiving Day Parade bow around a horse’s neck, Nietzche experimented with the development of the modern day bow tie for men.  Though little recognized today, Nietzche’s product of fashion invention was introduced on an 1877 cover of Vogue Magazine as the “Nietzche Noose.”

Well, since I mentioned bow ties, perhaps I need to discuss my own moments of darkness, tragedy, and triumph, which I call, “The Final Moments of Fashion Stress of 1999.”

Being the denizen of fashion that I am and with the rapidly approaching dawn of the new Millennium, I felt that it was incumbent that I should purchase a new tuxedo to ring in the New Year.  Initially, I was going to welcome the New Year like I normally do with a case of Tecate beer, a bag full of Taco Bell ® Gordita Supremes™, Velveeta™-Salsa dip, and watching prior year reruns of Dick Clark in Times Square .  This, followed by my traditional hit-and-run eggings of cars going down Knox Street , normally make my New Year’s celebrations complete.

However, I finally succumbed to the conventional wisdom that this year was somehow special and yielded to the notion that I should dress, as they say, “to the nines.”  So, beginning in late August, I began searching for that special Tuxedo that would place me on the cover of the New Years Edition of GQ. 

After being forced to reject the  $1,800 Gucci because the silk caused a mild rash in my groin area and the $3,100 Dolce and Gabbana due to my distaste for the four-button front, I settled for $93 YSW (Yves St. Wal-Mart) Tux.

Once the tux was selected, I needed to proceed to the acquisition of new formal wear accessories that are vital to completing that look of elegance that is so prominently displayed by the wait staff at the finer restaurants in Dallas .

While I wanted to utilize one of my previously acquired tux shirts, my date planted her foot firmly down on mine and said that my typical, head-to-toe , urban-industrial “black look” was going to be “out of fashion” for me this New Years.  So, with great dismay and chagrin, I reluctantly made a purchase of, dare I say, an uncharacteristic, Plain-Jane, white Tuxedo shirt. 

Throughout my life, when forced to wear a tux, I have always worn a bow tie that is factory tied.  All you need to do is struggle with the clasp on the back of your neck and “Presto!” you are ready to go.  However, the crafty salesman at Nordstrom somehow persuaded me that machine-tied was definitely a fashion no-no and I walked out with a “tie-it-yourself” tie and cummerbund set that cost three-times the amount of my tux.  The final words of the salesman will forever ring in my ears as he responded to my question regarding the ease of tying your own bow tie, “It’s so easy my pet Pug could do it.”  I now have a contract out on his head.  It is rumored that he is now in Paraguay .

All of us in life make mistakes that we look back upon with great regret and tears.  I made mine on New Years Eve.  Somehow, armed with the sure knowledge that the bow tie knot would be as quick as $6 dollar haircut, I didn’t practice tying it until two hours before our appointed event.

As I stood before the mirror, I carefully studied the bow tie knot diagrams that had been supplied by my soon-to-be dead salesman.  The diagrams illustrated, in nineteen carefully drawn frames, the steps required to tie the perfect bow tie.  I soon found that I became hopelessly lost after frame three.

After fumbling, tying, retying, and expressing four letter words that are seldom used in modern and civilized society, I realized that I needed to rush to our event sans tied bow tie.  Since our New Years Celebration was at a hotel, I thought, “Every Hotel has a Concierge.  Every Good Concierge can tie a bow tie.”  So with that thought it mind, I rushed to the concierge and asked about his knowledge of the finer art of Bow Tie Knots.  Upon hearing my question, he doubled over with laughter, shaking his head, and saying between snorts and giggles, “You mean you didn’t try practicing this two weeks ago?  Fool!”

Realizing I was in big trouble, I knew I had to rely on my own ingenuity and resources.  I returned to the mirror at the hotel with my date in tow.  After watching me struggle for twenty minutes in vein, her patience ran out and she slapped me across the face saying, “Idiot!  Weren’t you ever a Boy Scout?”  Thinking back, I remembered why I didn’t get my Eagle Scout rating.  Through the passage of time, I had suppressed those feelings of childhood anxiety, embarrassment, and failure.  Knots!  I was a failure at knots!   

Quickly, as I sheepishly stood there, she studied the diagram and within seconds the tie was completed.  I knew that her image of me had fallen 86% due to this basic test of manhood.  If it were not for the magic of Champagne , the evening would have been a total pit of despair, misery, and remorseful memories of failed Eagle Scout promises.

As I downed my sixth glass of Moet-Chandon, and danced to the greetings of the New Millennium, it dawned on me why mankind had forgotten Nietzche’s small contribution to fashion.