Nietzsche, Cannibalism, The “Loneliness Epidemic” and Dating As A 20-Something
Listen to the voice over or listen to some music to accompany your reading: "I'm in love" - Jennifer Lara, "Romance" - Frantz Casseus, "Prototype" - Outkast
In Jennifer Ratner-Rosenhagen’s 2011 journal article “Worldly Possessions: Nietzsche's Texts, American Readers, and the Intimacy and Itinerancy of Ideas” she highlights the early 20th-century American “fascination” with Nietzsche.
“The fascination with Nietzsche had become so great that observers could, without hyperbole, claim that he had inspired one of the most significant ‘intellectual romances’ of the period and that ‘he who will know the Zeitgeist must know Nietzsche.’” 1
A century and some change later, this fascination with lonely writers has reemerged. And I wonder out loud, to whoever is listening, why? Is it because NPR and the NYT have declared that we’re in a loneliness epidemic? Is it because we’re living in a time where romance is few and faltering, isolation is high, and there is a trend of anti-intellectualism amongst young people who are “chronically online”? (God I hate that phrase, “chronically online”.) ‘Tis I who rejects the anti-intellectualism movement as I scream at people my age to get off TikTok and Twitter2 and read a fucking book. I’ve seen some attempts to “make-intellectualism-cool-again” that encourage reading fiction and promote analytical discourse around popular culture. But some have taken that to the extreme and have intellectualized life and romance to the point of seclusion. So that’s also...an issue... to say the least.
The Twitter account “The Sunny Side of Franz Kafka”, which posts brief sentences from Kafka’s diaries or snippets from his love letters during the 1910s, has gained real traction and even brings light to my day from time to time. But even though people are reading (only about 140 characters or less), I can’t help but think about what Nietzsche said:
“The worst readers, are those who behave like plundering troops: they take away a few things they can use, dirty and confound the remainder, and revile the whole."3
While these philosophers and novelists, with grand modernism narratives, are gaining attention that mirrors that of the 19-tens and 19-teens, their work is being consumed by plundering troops. Slicing up only the parts that are relevant enough and curt enough for Twitter. Those who know the zeitgeist know Nietzsche, yes, I do believe that those who are “in touch” enough to make something popular know the zeitgeist. But(!) they know the Nietzsche that is served to them on a pretty digital platter and cut up in disregard of the whole. A theory I have about the bastard popularization of the secluded writer, who was denied by his cultural climate at the time, is the so-called loneliness epidemic we’re living through. Anddddd also because of the similarities of the 19-teens/twenties and the 20-teens/twenties. Should I spell it out, or is that redundant? The global pandemic, hyperinflation, blah, blah, blah.
I don’t know, I’m not claiming that I’ve read all of Nietzsche’s work or that I know his life story. One philosophy class does not make me an expert. But we must look at the bigger picture of where we’re getting our contemporary cultural influences from. Again, I don’t know... and I don't say that in a way of lacking information, but more in a Didion-esque way. Specifically, her fiction novel Play It As It Lays & Maria’s semi-obsession with “no-thing” and realization that “nothing matters”. I don’t know, I’m just making observations and typing them out. But I feel a bit on the brink of a Nietzsche-like mental collapse. We, society, my generation, are not investigating and not asking enough questions. And if we do ask questions, we wait for a TikTok to answer them.
In the 1880s, 1890s and following his death, Nietzsche received several fan letters from American contemporaries as well as the “average” American.4 Might I go as far as to compare these fan letters to the modern-day “retweet”? Insert praise-hands emoji here. Again, I don’t know. But Ratner-Rosenhagen notes how instructive these letters are to highlight “the dynamics of transnational intellectualism” and refers to the letters as “American Nietzsche ephemera"5 Another parallel. It seems to me everything nowadays is ephemeral. We consume, consume, consume, but it amounts to nothing. Are we as a society bulimic? We eat trends up at an insane rate and then purge to make room for the next thing a week later.
But I wonder, why are we not more concerned with consuming each other? And maybe I do mean cannibalism. Maybe that’s why I loved Luca Guadagnino’s 2022 film Bones and All; as some critics assert the film used cannibalism as an analogy for all-consuming love. Why are we choosing loneliness instead of all-consuming love? Why are we not focused on interpersonal relationships, connection, and intimacy? What I’m asking now, right now, is why Nietzsche? Why Kafka? And why are we in a loneliness epidemic? (The last one is rhetorical, I know why & I know NPR and the NYT have answers for me.)
In visual art, I love and admire the creations of Egon Schiele and Louise Bourgeois. Their representations of connection reallyyy speak to me and the type of consumption I’m hungry for.
When I saw Bourgeois’ The Couple 2007–2009 in the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art, I was completely drawn to it. I circled it endlessly so I could see every curve, every angle, where one hand started and the other stopped, where the two became one. I love it. When I say “closer” or “tighter” this is what I mean.
I wonder if Egon was just as desperate for connection after the 1918-1920 Spanish Flu as we claim we are now after the peak years of the Covid-19 pandemic are over. And I say ‘claim’ because everyone claims they’re looking for a romantic connection. Their dating app profiles state they are looking for a
(lord help me), but no one seems to want to commit. (My friend Audrey and I have a theory that is just a ploy to get girls into bed on the first date under false pretenses of a potential relationship.) Of course, I mean commit to a romantic relationship, but also commit to the time and effort it takes to develop that relationship. Even in platonic friendships, finding the time and putting in the effort to maintain those friendships takes work. I won't go on an enraged tangent about how capitalism steals our personhood and free time. I understand that people don't want to hang out, because why would you when you just worked an 8-hour day just to live paycheck to paycheck? I’ll save that for another time, another essay. But how do you get people to opt into following through? How can you convince someone to commit to follow an unknown path toward connection?
What I've noticed and heard from friends, who do a lot more dating than me and through the interweb channels, is that sex is the new icebreaker. When I got back into the dating world after two back-to-back long-term relationships, I was shocked. We’re having these moments of faux intimacy, that aren’t real because we don’t know the other person, eat it up and call it a day, and then wonder why we’re still lonely. Aye yai yai.
But that’s how I know that people are not seeing the full picture, because of these contradictions. Wanting intimacy but not wanting to put in the work. We praise philosophers for their insight on intellectual romance, but what insight could a man who never leaves his house have?! How can you claim to be starving but when I put a full plate in front of you, you choose only to eat the dessert? You need to eat everything on your plate to nourish your body! Connection, intimacy, and vulnerability is nourishment for the soul, for your personhood. But again, I don’t think people want to put in the work. It’s hard and scary to be vulnerable, it’s easy to cum. Everyone is scared to get hurt, me included, but it’s those of us who continue to try to make connections, even through the fear, who are brave.
I have a problem with allowing people to see me as a human being who has flaws and inevitability needs help. I want to be seen as an ethereal young woman who transcends all imperfections. I want to be the woman Andre 3000 wrote “Prototype” about. When it comes to how I choose to see myself, I’m perfectly fine with throwing up my hands in the air saying “I’m only human” and calling it a day. But having to reveal to someone that I like that I’m less than perfect and just another human girl is hard for me.
Recently I was on a date, a first date no less, and some illness came over me. I was in an excruciating amount of pain. In this situation, I needed to ask for help and I was forced to be vulnerable, two things I’m still learning how to do. Luckily my date was kind and made me feel comfortable enough to ask for help. He had no clue the big step that was for me to take. The fact that I didn’t just pretend I was fine, suck it up, and hobble back home was a big step I’m proud I took. Not all of us are going to be forced into change, pushed to the edge, and made to leap like I was. But the push made me realize I don’t have to be otherworldly perfect. Making space for my flaws to emerge when I meet someone new, like snorting while I laugh or spilling my drink at the bar (like 3 times), allows me to show up to that date 100% myself; therefore allowing for an honest connection.
For a moment, think with me about movies and lens flares. I found out from watching the documentary Visions of Light (1992) that there was a time, in the early days of filmmaking, when a lens flare was considered a flaw. (Do you see where I’m going with this?) I recently re-watched Die Hard (1988). I stumbled upon a video clip of the director’s commentary and the movie just so happened to be playing in theaters that week. (I always stumble upon the best stuff, I’m #blessed that way.) McTiernan mentions how lens flares used to be seen as photographic flaws and now (or at least in the 1980s) DPs sought out anamorphic lenses that specifically flare the light. There was pushback from cinematography fundamentalists but now a lens flare is so ubiquitous you might not even notice it. Another artistic debate that I think about surrounds impression marks in ceramic works. Impression marks are marks made when the clay is still soft, and after firing the clay in the kiln at that point the marks are permanent. My favorite impressions are hand marks or fingerprints. Some may say they’re flaws, but some may say the marks bring character and personify the work. When it comes to my ceramic works, I make sure not to erase my fingerprints from the clay. I want people to know that this was made by a human being and not ready-made in a factory awaiting to be shipped to Urban Outfitters. (Okay if you don’t get what I’m trying to say by now you might as well just log off.) I found, as an artist and as a person with flaws, that in many cases things, people, and art can be even more beautiful when the flaws shine through.
I’m not better than my generation, I tend to rush things, and I’m impatient. I’m looking for that next great connection and I want it in 30 minutes or less or it’s free. But it won't take 30 minutes or less, and it definitely won’t be free. A thoughtful relationship requires labor, maintenance, and patience.
So how do I conclude my first “entry”? (Help! I’m new, what do I call it?)
I see there is no straight line to connection. There is no map to help my generation navigate our newfound adulthood after our youth was stolen by a global pandemic. (Some would say some of the best years depending on where you fall on the 1990-1999 birthday spectrum.)
Cling on to Kafka and Nietzsche all you want, embrace them on an intellectual level, but know they are dead. Know that there are people alive who need, want, and yearn for your physical embrace and you have to get out of the house to find them.
Ratner-Rosenhagen, Jennifer. “Worldly Possessions: Nietzsche’s Texts, American Readers, and the Intimacy and Itinerancy of Ideas.” New German Critique, no. 113 (2011): 29. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41288133.
Now renamed “X” by it’s new owner Elon Musk, but I refuse to call it “X”
Nietzsche, Friedrich, and Richard Schacht. Nietzsche: Human, All Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits. Edited by R. J. Hollingdale. 2nd ed. of Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.
Ratner-Rosenhagen. 29
Ratner-Rosenhagen. 29