Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals: Critical Essays
Edited by Christa Davis Acampora
Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2006
Reviewed by Daniel Blue
Christa Davis Acampora’s new book, Nietzsche’s On The Genealogy of Morals: Critical Essays, might appear to limit itself to what the title predicts: a set of papers devoted to a single text by Nietzsche. The anthology doesn’t disappoint on that score. As executive editor of The Journal of Nietzsche Studies and co-compiler of an earlier anthology, A Nietzschean Bestiary, Acampora has assembled pieces by some of the brighter lights in current Nietzsche scholarship. (A full list of authors and articles follows this review.) Nonetheless, her new book is greater than the sum of its parts. As the reader moves from one essay to the next, some of the most frequently claimed attributes of On the Genealogy of Morals begin to seem questionable, and the contest among its contributors tells us more than expected about tensions in contemporary Nietzsche studies.
It bears saying that the essays assembled here are varied, both in perspective and style, and this presents a problem: how to organize them and elicit at least an appearance of coherence. Acampora chooses a four-part structure: 1) “On Genealogy,” which focuses on that much-discussed method; 2) “Reading Nietzsche’s Genealogy — Focused Analyses of Parts and Passages,” which centers on the actual text; 3) “Critiquing Genealogy,” which discusses certain post-World War II readings, notably by Habermas, Derrida, and the later Deleuze; and 4) “On Politics and Community,” a section of essays, each of which explores a different social aspect raised by Nietzsche’s book.
Her second structural move is to place essays consecutively so that the thematics or approaches proposed in one are resumed by those which follow. Thus a piece by Acampora herself is trailed by a paper by Paul S. Loeb which extends her findings in a wholly new direction. A selection by Jürgen Habermas is succeeded by a riposte from Gary Shapiro. A paper by Alexander Nehamas comparing the Genealogy with Nietzsche’s essay, “On the Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life,” follows on the heels of David Owen’s comparison of the Genealogy with Daybreak. Babette Babich’s contribution, which, among other matters, discusses the way the Nietzschean aphorism “implicates the reader in the reading,” is followed by Ken Gemes’s suggestion that the entire book is a snare designed to lure the reader into confronting unexamined ideals. Similarly, while not immediately consecutive, essays by David Owen and Aaron Ridley echo one another as each examines the argumentative strategies of the Genealogy and whether these will convince those who do not share Nietzsche’s vision of the world.
While the book contains many striking articles, one of the more challenging is by Acampora herself. Entitled, “On Sovereignty and Overhumanity: Why It Matters How We Read Nietzsche’s Genealogy II:2,” it takes the much cited notion of “the sovereign individual” and claims that this figure neither represents Nietzsche’s ideal nor the peak of humanity in his view. At stake here is the sort of sovereignty Nietzsche might approve, and whether the new humanity which he invokes at the end of Genealogy II is the individual apostrophized earlier or someone quite new. Also, given the sovereign individual’s position in Genealogy II, Acampora’s reinterpretation inevitably carries implications for understanding other Nietzschean topics such as the value of memory and conscience. Just as important, for Nietzsche studies at least, is the immense amount of recantation which will be necessary if Acampora is correct, for virtually everyone who has written on Nietzsche and ethics has assumed that the sovereign individual presented in Genealogy II:2 is a touchstone of probity and achievement. If Acampora’s interpretation prevails, then many a book and essay, including several in this volume, will have to be rewritten.
While there is not space here to discuss all the articles collected in this anthology, mention might be made of Robert B. Pippin’s “Lightning and Flash, Agent and Deed (GM I: 6-17),” in which he addresses an apparent inconsistency which has perplexed other readers of the Genealogy. On the one hand Nietzsche attacks the notion of a subject behind the deed. In his view this idea is not only false, but pernicious, leading to the ascription of free will and thereby responsibility to those who do not observe the slave code of values. In Nietzsche’s well-known example, the lambs blame the eagles for not behaving like lambs, as though it lay in their power not to act like the eagles that they are. As against this theory, Pippin observes that all of us (Nietzsche included) distinguish between a mere movement and a deed. Clearly, some notion of intentionality and subject seems to be called for here. Beyond this, Nietzsche’s account of the slave revolt necessarily devolves upon an unspoken overlay of intentions. The slaves see themselves as operating by one set of motives (humanitarian values) while in fact enacting another (displacing the nobles). How can such divided purpose be possible without introducing some entity in addition to the deed itself? Pippin finds an answer in a theory of expressivity already available in Hegel whereby the doer is “in” but not “behind” the deed.
Although the book contains numerous other essays as interesting and important as the two just mentioned, it presents something of an embarrassment of riches. Anthologies are inevitably double-edged because, by definition, their contents are heterogeneous. Positively, they provide a sort of one-stop shop where one can find assembled articles which would otherwise have to be searched out in multiple journals. The negative is obvious to anyone who tries to read one from cover to cover. While a work written by a single author allows readers to pick up the ground rules — range of vocabulary, modes of argumentation — right from the introduction, an anthology starts fresh with every entry. The effect can be something like encountering a smorgasbord where one is expected to sample every dish. Each looks tasty, but the overall prospect can overwhelm.
The problem is acute in this collection because the articles are so varied, not just in conclusion but in approach. David Owen, Aaron Ridley, Babette Babich and Ken Gemes all discuss the strategies Nietzsche uses to overcome readerly resistance, but they make quite different assumptions as to his procedures. The former pair construe his attempt in terms of logic and argument, whereas the latter view the book as an exercise in seduction, where personal involvement of the reader is as important as validity of proof. To choose another example, Babich, in a discussion of how aphorisms are ingested, cites the ways a Christian anti-Semite who reads Genealogy I might be “hooked,” then undone. Yirmiyahu Yovel, discussing the same passages, takes Nietzsche at his word and devises a tripartite categorization to accommodate the apparently anti-Jewish strictures in that section. Ken Gemes proves helpful here by making a distinction between manifest and latent content. Babich has arguably chosen to emphasize the latent, Yovel the manifest content of Nietzsche’s work. (Of course, Babich might claim that her focus is on process, not content, but it is content which baits the hook for the anti-Semite.)
A similar contrast can be found between Gemes’s own article and a paper by Daniel Conway. Gemes who, like Babich, favors latent content, interprets the Genealogy as a kind of psychological labyrinth whereby Nietzsche cites anthropological narratives less for their intrinsic truth than to lure the reader into a maze leading to self-awareness. Conway, by contrast, views the book’s characters and types, particularly the “beasts of prey,” as actors in a narrative meant to be factual or, at least, coherent on its own terms. He therefore interprets Genealogy, not from the point of view of a reader engaging with the text, but “objectively,” as proposing a history of humankind, a version of how we became a moralized species.

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Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals: Critical Essays
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