There’s no doubt that Sue Prideaux’s I am Dynamite is a highly entertaining read, and rattles along wonderfully well as a late-night distraction. It has its jaw-dropping moments. Wagner comes across as a ludicrously bombastic figure (who could possibly have guessed that from the music?). And Nietszche cuts a sad figure, plagued with ill-health, fizzing with quarter-baked ideas, writing far too fast when he does, and never slowing, it seems, for the hard graft of actually working things through, and worrying little about contradicting himself. So he leaves us with cloudy and fragmentary mirrors in which all kinds of readers can and do glimpse what they want to find.
I’m quite grateful to Sue Prideaux. Reading some more Nietzsche was on my retirement list of cultural gaps perhaps to fill. She’s certainly inoculated me against that. (Her concluding pages of Nietzschean aphorisms which had particularly struck her obviously struck me very differently!). I might well, however, be reading more Prideaux …
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Published on February 05, 2019 08:41