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it is Nietzsche who insists on the unanimity of the murder, with a heavy hand that reminds me of my own: ‘We have killed Him – you and I! All of us are His murderers!’ The translation is depressingly faithful. I feel as if I were going mad; maybe I am the Madman himself reincarnated, the one in the aphorism, of whom no one ever speaks.
I have myself said that the death of God is in the process of dying, and doubtless I am now in the process of repeating it. Nobody escapes this obituary itch.
The lyricism of the eternal recurrence should not keep us from seeing that the synthesis is faithful to antique sources and compatible with the rationalism of modern ethnology, and even the positivism which says: ‘All religions resemble each other and in consequence all religions are of equal value.’
