Number Twenty-Nine

Die Hintergedanken, mit denen du das Böse in dir aufnimmst, sind nicht die deinen, sondern die des Bösen. Das Tier entwindet dem Herrn die Peitsche und peitscht sich selbst, um Herr zu werden, und weiß nicht, daß das nur eine Phantasie ist, erzeugt durch einen neuen Knoten im Peitschenriemen des Herrn.

The ulterior motives with which you absorb and assimilate Evil are not your own but those of Evil. >> The animal wrests the whip from its master and whips itself in order to become master, not knowing that this is only a fantasy produced by a new knot in the master's whiplash. [Kaiser/Wilkins]

The reservations with which you take Evil into yourself are not yours, but those of Evil. >> The animal twists the whip out of its master's grip and whips itself to become its own master -- not knowing that this is only a fantasy, produced by a new knot in the master's whiplash. [Hofmann]

Commentary

The section after the >> arrows is cancelled.

The first section, which I think tends to be overshadowed by the second: If you reject evil there is no need for argument about it. If you argue or struggle, you are already playing the game, bargaining, temporizing, parsing out your entitlements. The impulsive act is innocent, if not harmless, like the leopards entering the sanctuary. To reason about the wickedness of a possible act requires you to begin planning it.

The second section is like a rerendering of the slave rebellion as Nietzsche described it, although here it is the master who prevails. The point is that the slave doesn't overcome the master by force, because, in so doing, the slave becomes the master and the master the slave. Instead, the slave paralyzes the master with guilt and disgust, so the master doesn't act even though he can.

Linking these two sections together seems to require us to think of Evil as the master position, and that scourging ourselves is only another way to serve Evil, because we scourge ourselves in order to become our own Evil.

Number Twenty-Eight

Wenn man einmal das Böse bei sich aufgenommen hat, verlangt es nicht mehr, daß man ihm glaube.

When one has once accepted and absorbed Evil, it no longer demands to be believed. [Kaiser/Wilkins]

Once we have taken Evil into ourselves, it no longer insists that we believe in it. [Hofmann]

Commentary

The first verb is the tricky one, since it means to receive, specifically to receive persons (as opposed to acts). Receiving someone, and here evil is clearly personified, and taking someone or something into oneself are not quite the same. If I take evil into myself, then I become evil, don't I? Whereas what is under discussion here seems to be knowing and accepting evil, rather than doing or being evil.

It is a characteristic of evil that people do it while claiming not to be doing it. When you are unaware of it, it demands to be received. Once it is received, it hides.

This aphorism is also telling us that evil does demand we believe in it, so long as we do not receive it. Evil does not allow itself to be passively ignored, and, if it is actively ignored, that means it has been "received."

If this evil is the same as the imposed negative of the previous aphorism, then receiving it would be the flipside of having it imposed on you. This may mean that one cannot be subject to this imposition without first allowing the negative.

Number Twenty-Seven

Das Negative zu tun, ist uns noch auferlegt; das Positive ist uns schon gegeben.

Doing the negative thing is imposed on us, an addition; the positive thing is given to us from the start. [Kaiser/Wilkins]

We are instructed to do the negative; the positive is already within us. [Hofmann]

Commentary

Hofmann takes greater liberties here than Kaiser/Wilkins, and loses the sense of "noch," which is that the negative is added to us. The implication, then, is that the positive, being opposed to the negative, must be the opposite of what is added, that is, what is innate, and hence already within us, but doesn't this entail an assumption? I don't think we should conflate what is given to us from the start with what we are.

The negative thing is not given to us from the start but imposed later; does this mean there are no imposed positives, and therefore any positive thing is given at the beginning only?

I think the emphasis here is on the idea of the negative as alien deviation from any previously-determined direction. If this is taken as an axiom, it does not necessarily follow that any change in direction is negative. It may negate the direction taken up to now, but if this happens because you are opting for a new direction, then this would be a new positive, and hence, by this definition, a new beginning. The positive, then, would necessarily be the beginning of something. Therefore the negative is a deviation that does not begin anything new.

The negative might be sloppiness, but then that doesn't explain the idea of imposition. Who imposes? Perhaps it doesn't matter who. But no one thinks of sloppiness in terms of an imposition, do they? Imposed sloppiness. What would that be? Confusion, induced by circumstances? This negative is far more general, and should be treated as any interference; perhaps especially as self-interference.

Number Twenty-Six

Verstecke sind unzählige, Rettung nur eine, aber Möglichkeiten der Rettung wieder so viele wie Verstecke. Es gibt ein Ziel, aber keinen Weg; was wir Weg nennen, ist Zögern.

Hiding places there are innumerable, escape is only one, but possibilities of escape, again, are as many as hiding places. There is a goal, but no way; what we call a way is hesitation.
[Kaiser/Wilkins]

There are innumerable hiding places and only one salvation, but the possibilities of salvation are as numerous as the hiding places. There is a destination but no way there; what we refer to as way is hesitation. [Hofmann]

Commentary

This is another cancelled aphorism, very reminiscent of "Before the Law."

Briefly, it says that hiding places and possible avenues of escape or rescue are numberless, but only one of them is true. In parallel, there is somewhere to go, but no way to get there at all. In other words, there are countless wrong pathways and only one right one, from one point of view, whereas from another point of view there is not even one right pathway, because the mistake lies in thinking in terms of pathways. There is an aim that is not achieved yet, and which is simply to be achieved. To come up with a way to achieve it is to postpone that achievement.

If we begin with the supposition that all of us are elements of a single transcendent consciousness mistaking itself for an infinite number of discrete beings, then the student approaching the guru and asking to be liberated is actually one consciousness asking itself for freedom. The guru looks at the student and says in effect, "you're not fooling me, Visnu, I know it's you, but if you want to play this game, act the part of a hapless student, and invent laborious and elaborate procedures for your own liberation instead of simply liberating yourself right now, by all means, why not?"

This aphorism does not seem to be consistent with the idea of the true way, since he says there is no way to the one aim. However, there need not be a contradiction, and clearing up contradictions isn't necessarily tidying up where untidiness is called for. The true way isn't about going somewhere, it's about staying on the rope or brushing the leaves away continually, keeping pointed in the right direction, not about how much distance you've managed to cover. You cover no more ground than you are currently standing on, which is what he said in the twenty-fourth aphorism.

You can't spread out becoming, you can only train or practice or wait until it happens. The moment of becoming something truly new may or may not arise out of the old, but it isn't just the rearrangement of the old. The new may happen because you've arranged enough old stuff out of its birth canal, so there is something to be done with the old stuff, but the new, to be new, must be discontinuous with what went before. The paradox of the "way" is that you're trying to invite the new because there does seem to be some way to induce it to come from among all the old stuff, but what comes will come out of nothing old.

Number Twenty-Five

Wie kann man sich über die Welt freuen, außer wenn man zu ihr flüchtet?

How can one be glad about the world except if one takes one's refuge in it? [Kaiser/Wilkins]

How is it possible to rejoice in the world except by fleeing to it? [Hofmann]

Commentary

This is not a rhetorical question.

Hofmann's "fleeing to" is closer to the German than Kaiser/Wilkins' "taking refuge in." The pronoun "ihr" is in the dative, which is usually locative in sense, but the combination of the verb "flüchten" and the preposition "zu" gives us a sense of motion better translated as "fleeing to."

This is important because it underscores the idea that one rejoices in the world while separate from it and seeking to join with it, rather than simply from within it. Kaiser/Wilkins conjures a Buddhistic image of self-identification with the world, while Hofmann emphasizes instead the notion of someplace to be reached.

What is there to flee or to take refuge from, if not the world? Taking refuge in the world is like renouncing the idea of refuge; it means being as tranquil in the midst of the flames as you would be in your mother's lap.

Escape and rejoicing are linked. To rejoice in something is to escape to it. One has to take the approach one is normally encouraged to take in escaping from the world into the mystical beyond, but use it to escape to the world.

Number Twenty-Four

Das Glück begreifen, daß der Boden, auf dem du stehst, nicht größer sein kann, als die zwei Füße ihn bedecken.

Grasping the good fortune that the ground on which you are standing cannot be larger than the two feet covering it. [Kaiser/Wilkins]

Grasp the good fortune that the ground on which you stand cannot be any bigger than the two feet planted on it. [Hofmann]

Commentary

Is this nonsense? Deleuze pointed out in The Logic of Sense that nonsense is more than the mere absence of sense -- which would be only gibberish -- it's the simulation of sense. I mistrust all the various ideas this aphorism gives me, because they seem uselessly prosaic.

Arguably, the most important word in the aphorism is "bedecken," which means "to cover." Hofmann's translation involves a nuance of stability or resolution that is not entailed in covering. The good fortune is that the ground is covered by the feet; what is to be grasped firmly is the good fortune.

Why fortunate? Because this means that things are scaled to your size and no larger. You are not and cannot be out of your depth.

Number Twenty-Three

Vom wahren Gegner fährt grenzenloser Mut in dich.

From the true antagonist illimitable courage is transmitted to you. [Kaiser/Wilkins]

From the true opponant, a limitless courage flows into you. [Hofmann]

Commentary

Your opponant must also derive comparable courage from you. What matters is that the opposition be true. A false opposition gives no courage because there is nothing to overcome. Where the opposition is true, the courage is limitless, perhaps because true opposition is limitless. It may take limited forms, or run its course in time, but the opposition of directions is strict.

This means that you -- and again Kafka uses the informal dich, possibly addressing himself -- generate your opponant by adopting a contrary position. Josef K. insists that the Court is his adversary, even in the absence of any hostilities.

I am only defeated where there is no fight, even though the struggle is an impasse. The impasse is a kind of success, because victory, which abruptly clears away all signs of struggle, is indiscernible in this respect from defeat or from there never having been any struggle.