With cordial and grateful regards I remain, dear Sir,
Yours,
NIETZSCHE.
9. BRANDES TO NIETZSCHE.
Copenhagen, April 3, 1888.
MY DEAR SIR,
You have called the postman the medium of ill-mannered invasions. That is very true as a rule, and should be sat. sapienti not to trouble you. I am not an intruder by nature, so little in fact that I lead an almost isolated life, am indeed loth to write letters and, like all authors, loth to write at all.
Yesterday, however, when I had received your letter and taken up one of your books, I suddenly felt a sort of vexation at the idea that nobody here in Scandinavia knew anything about you, and I soon determined to make you known at a stroke. The newspaper cutting will tell you that (having just finished a series of lectures on Russia) I am announcing fresh lectures on your writings. For many years I have been obliged to repeat all my lectures, as the University cannot hold the audiences; that is not likely to be the case this time, as your name is so absolutely new, but the people who will come and get an impression of your works will not be of the dullest.
As I should very much like to have an idea of your appearance, I beg you to give me a portrait of yourself. I enclose my last photograph. I would also ask you to tell me quite briefly when and where you were born and in what years you published (or better, wrote) your works, as they are not dated. If you have any newspaper that contains these details, there will be no need to write. I am an unmethodical person and possess neither dictionaries of authors nor other books of reference in which your name might be found.
The youthful works—the Thoughts out of Season—have been very useful to me. How young you were and enthusiastic, how frank and naïve I There is much in the maturer books that I do not yet understand; you appear to me often to hint at or generalise about entirely intimate, personal data, giving the reader a beautiful casket without the key. But most of it I understand. I was enchanted by the youthful work on Schopenhauer; although personally I owe little to Schopenhauer, it seemed to speak to me from the soul.
One or two pedantic corrections: Joyful Wisdom, p. 116. The words quoted are not Chamfort's last, they are to be found in his Caractères et Anecdotes: dialogue between M. D. and M. L. in explanation of the sentence: Peu de personnes et pen de choses m'intéressent, mais rien ne m'intéresse moins que moi. The concluding words are: en vivant et en voyant les hommes, il faut que le cour se brise ou se bronze.
On p. 118 you speak of the elevation "in which Shakespeare places Cæsar." I find Shakespeare's Cæsar pitiable. An act of high treason. And this glorification of the miserable fellow whose only achievement was to plunge a knife into a great man!