“And thus I wander alone like a rhinoceros.” Nietzsche writes in one of his letters that he had discovered this “strong closing sentence” in an English translation of the sacred books of the Buddhists and had made it a “household word.” It is at once a grotesque and an apt image of his isolation in a world of men and women. His solitude made him perilous: it ultimately exalted his egoism into madness. There are few more amazing passages in the annals of literature than those containing the last letters between the mad Nietzsche and the mad Strindberg. Nietzsche, signing himself “Nietzsche Cæsar,” wrote on New Year’s Eve, 1888:
I have appointed a meeting day of monarchs in Europe. I shall order ... to be shot.
Au revoir! For we shall surely see each other again.
On one condition only. Let us divorce.
Strindberg, writing on the same date and signing himself “The best, the highest God,” began his letter to Nietzsche: “I will, I will be raving mad,” and concluded it:
Meanwhile, let us rejoice in our madness. Fare you well and be true to your
Strindberg
(The best, the highest God).
Nietzsche’s reply was:
Mr. Strindberg:
Alas! ... no more! Let us divorce!