Carved Cascade

Woodcut of a waterfall by Reynolds Stone (1909-79)


It’s the wrong kind of waterfall to go with this passage from Nietzsche, but that can’t be helped dot dot dot colon

Am Wasserfall. — Beim Anblick eines Wasserfalles meinen wir in den zahllosen Biegungen, Schlängelungen, Brechungen der Wellen Freiheit des Willens und Belieben zu sehen; aber Alles ist nothwendig, jede Bewegung mathematisch auszurechnen. So ist es auch bei den menschlichen Handlungen; man müsste jede einzelne Handlung vorher ausrechnen können, wenn man allwissend wäre, ebenso jeden Fortschritt der Erkenntniss, jeden Irrthum, jede Bosheit. Der Handelnde selbst steckt freilich in der Illusion der Willkür; wenn in einem Augenblick das Rad der Welt still stände und ein allwissender, rechnender Verstand da wäre, um diese Pausen zu benützen, so könnte er bis in die fernsten Zeiten die Zukunft jedes Wesens weitererzählen und jede Spur bezeichnen, auf der jenes Rad noch rollen wird. Die Täuschung des Handelnden über sich, die Annahme des freien Willens, gehört mit hinein in diesen auszurechnenden Mechanismus. — Friedrich Nietzsche, Menschliches, Allzumenschliches: Ein Buch für freie Geister (1878)


AT THE WATERFALL.—In looking at a waterfall we imagine that there is freedom of will and fancy in the countless turnings, twistings, and breakings of the waves ; but everything is compulsory, every movement can be mathematically calculated. So it is also with human actions ; one would have to be able to calculate every single action beforehand if one were all-knowing ; equally so all progress of knowledge, every error, all malice. The one who acts certainly labours under the illusion of voluntariness ; if the world’s wheel were to stand still for a moment and an all-knowing, calculating reason were there to make use of this pause, it could foretell the future of every creature to the remotest times, and mark out every track upon which that wheel would continue to roll. The delusion of the acting agent about himself, the supposition of a free will, belongs to this mechanism which still remains to be calculated. — Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All-Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits (1908)

Stare-Way to Hair, Then

Medusa (c. 1875) by Frederick Sandys


Like William Waterhouse, Frederick Sandys (1829-1904) is called a Pre-Raphaelite. Alas, in Sandys’ case it’s true: like Rossetti, he did belong to that despicable, deplorable and downright disgusting movement. But like Rossetti again, he sometimes managed to break the strict Pre-Raphaelite principles of ugliness, ill-proportion and bad colouring. Indeed, Sandys may have been the most technically skilled of the Pre-Raphaelites. The marvellous chalk-drawing above is a good piece of evidence for that.


Previously pre-posted:

’Dys MissPerdita by Frederick Sandys

’Dith and the Maiden #2

Marguerite Kelsey 1928 by Meredith Frampton 1894-1984

Portrait of Marguerite Kelsey (1928) by Meredith Frampton (1894-1984).

Previously pre-posted (please peruse):

’Dith and the Maiden #1

’Dith and the Maiden

Meredith Frampton's A Game of Patience (1937)

A Game of Patience (1937) by Meredith Frampton (1894-1984), from the Ferens Art Gallery in Kingston-on-Hull, Yorkshire.