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Beyond Good and Evil

Book:  Nietzsche, Friendrich (1886). Beyond Good and Evil. Translated by R. J. Hollingdale, 3rd edition, 2003.  London, England:  Penguin Books.

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"The greater danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it." Michaelangelo

I hit the "Send" button on Tuesday morning before work, pleased that I had gotten it in before nine.  I had put hours into the story in an attempt to convey the beauty of the evening without losing the facts that Talbott would have captured.  It was too long, and I warned Mitch that it would be, but knew he could edit to the proper length. 

Mitch called me later that evening to say the story had been well done and he had been able to cut it to the required length.  He liked like both the detail and how I had captured the human element that made this event so important to the community.  He commended me for making the reader care about the hospital and its mission, and then reminded me to get copies of the paper on Wednesday.  I had gone to the store on Wednesday morning, and called Mom to tell her about the story.  She drove to town as well, and bought several more copies to pass to friends and neighbors.  Nina made sure to clip the article and post it on our break room bulletin board with a note in red saying, "By our very own Mandy Peterson."  My coworkers all ooh'ed and ah'ed, which made me feel pretty darned good.  Of course, all the excitement had kept me from reading the Nietzsche book as I would have liked.  It had been extremely hard reading, and being distracted with work and my fifteen seconds of sort-of fame.

"Amanda, we haven't heard from you in a while," Dr. Soren's said, interrupting my reverie.  "What do you think about Nietzsche's famous statement that God is dead?"  Damn it, why couldn't he let me have my peace?

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Ms. Peterson, are you with us today?"  Heat spread up my neck and into my face.  I couldn't see what shade of red was painting my face, but knew it had to be bright by the warmth it left behind. 

"Sir," I said with emphasis, using the salutation he'd asked us not to use on day one.  "I am here.  I just drifted for a moment.  Could you please repeat the question?"

"Of course, Ms. Peterson, I would be happy to repeat myself.  While you were drifting, we were discussing Nietzsche's works, including one The Gay Science, written in 1882.  It was in that famous work that he proclaimed God is dead.  I was asking who knew what he might have meant by that statement.  Perhaps you'd like to build off what Adam, Derrick, or Polina said?"

I hadn't been paying attention to the discussion, and had barely read the complicated book assigned for today.  Even though we'd only been required to read four chapters for today's class, I found it to be some of the most difficult reading of my life.  Who could say what Nietzsche had meant by God is dead?  I looked around the room.  In the silence, all eyes were on me.  Sharon shot me a soft smile.  I figured the best bet was to give it a try, pretend I had some semblance of a clue.

"Honestly, I found today's reading complicated.  I didn't pick up enough from it to know what he meant by God is Dead."

"All the more reason to pay attention," Dr. Soren asserted.

"Of course.  You're right.  I'm sorry, I had a rough week and my mind drifted.  OK, let me take a shot at the statement, God is dead.  Maybe he's saying that our ideal of a Supreme Being is dead and has been replaced by science.  As we advance scientifically and find solutions to life's questions in physics, math and geometry, our dependence on God becomes less important.  Thus, the pronouncement, God is dead.  Maybe that's what he meant?"