The Bite of The Adder


One day had Zarathustra fallen asleep under a fig-tree, owing to the heat, with his arms over his face. And there came an adder and bit him in the neck, so that Zarathustra screamed with pain. When he had taken his arm from his face he looked at the serpent; and then did it recognise the eyes of Zarathustra, wriggled awkwardly, and tried to get away. “Not at all,” said Zarathustra, “as yet hast thou not received my thanks!

Thou hast awakened me in time; my journey is yet long.” “Thy journey is short,” said the adder sadly; “my poison is fatal.” Zarathustra smiled. “When did ever a dragon die of a serpent’s poison?”–said he. “But take thy poison back! Thou art not rich enough to present it to me.” Then fell the adder again on his neck, and licked his wound.

When Zarathustra once told this to his disciples they asked him: “And what, O Zarathustra, is the moral of thy story?” And Zarathustra answered them thus:

The destroyer of morality, the good and just call me: my story is immoral. When, however, ye have an enemy, then return him not good for evil: for that would abash him. But prove that he hath done something good to you. And rather be angry than abash any one! And when ye are cursed, it pleaseth me not that ye should then desire to bless. Rather curse a little also!

And should a great injustice befall you, then do quickly five small ones besides. Hideous to behold is he on whom injustice presseth alone. Did ye ever know this? Shared injustice is half justice. And he who can bear it, shall take the injustice upon himself!

A small revenge is humaner than no revenge at all. And if the punishment be not also a right and an honour to the transgressor, I do not like your punishing. Nobler is it to own oneself in the wrong than to establish one’s right, especially if one be in the right. Only, one must be rich enough to do so.

I do not like your cold justice; out of the eye of your judges there always glanceth the executioner and his cold steel. Tell me: where find we justice, which is love with seeing eyes? Devise me, then, the love which not only beareth all punishment, but also all guilt! Devise me, then, the justice which acquitteth every one except the judge!

And would ye hear this likewise? To him who seeketh to be just from the heart, even the lie becometh philanthropy. But how could I be just from the heart! How can I give everyone his own! Let this be enough for me: I give unto every one mine own. Finally, my brethren, guard against doing wrong to any anchorite. How could an anchorite forget! How could he requite!

Like a deep well is an anchorite. Easy is it to throw in a stone: if it should sink to the bottom, however, tell me, who will bring it out again? Guard against injuring the anchorite! If ye have done so, however, well then, kill him also!–

Thus spake Zarathustra.


“Thy journey is short,” said the adder sadly; “my poison is fatal.”

Note: This is a highly poetic passage. From a lay man’s perspective, I will like to summarize what I think this passage is about: injustice and the need for courage and self-defence. The writer iterated that the world preys on vulnerability, that while Zarathustra was relaxing in the a shade of a tree, a serpent out of nowhere and without cause bit him in the neck. Had Zarathustra not confronted and cursed the serpent, it would not have come back to neutralize its poison. Obviously Zarathustra was courageous. A little confrontation, a little act of bravery, goes a long way to keep the enemy off. Also, after reflecting deeply on the passage, I realized it is indeed true that what we call justice is actually shared injustice.

A Visit To The Past

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A recent visit to a local antiquity shop has changed my perspective about the human existence. I mean it’s one thing to see ancient art and antiquity in magazines, newspapers, on television or even on the web and it’s quite another to stand in the same room with objects purported to have been used by our ancestors over half a millennia. This is simply overwhelming – bronze masks, wooden pestles, bowls and spoons, fertility dolls, tables, chains used to bind slaves, statuettes in the form of animals – these are not only expensive art pieces but also the crudest of their kind. The most compelling stories are often imprinted on domestic objects, such as wooden spoons or ladles or beds which, from looks, were obviously hand fashioned.

Anyone of African descent or anyone with an interest in Africa should have the time to visit Africa and see these things. Sometimes an artifact can tell a thousand tales at once. These objects that I saw have both historical and sentimental value; tears well up when an attendant showed me the chains in which slaves were shackled and sent to the land of doom. The slave trade has such great lessons for the black race. If only we knew what went on in the dungeon in Cape Coast, if only we knew how many slaves were thrown overboard either because they were ill or attempted a rebellion, we would read and read and employ ourselves to learning how the world works. But sadly these things are not even taught in African schools today. It is very unfortunate that I couldn’t take any photographs because notices were clearly affixed to the walls that said photography was not allowed inside.

One of the questions which has repeatedly been raised by art critics in the western world is that indigenous African art is not understandable or rather difficult to understand. I first heard of this as an art student attending a colloquium hosted locally by a delegation from New York University, in I think, 2007. The main point of my discourse is this: One fails to understand art unless one can look at it from the perspective of the artist or unless one shares a common archetype or experience with the artist. Art gives clues to some basic truths about life although it itself doesn’t lead to the truth.

When you look at a wooden fertility doll of any of the tribes of Africa, you will not see anything realistic. The proportions are unreal, the figures themselves look stiff and highly symbolic and most body parts are not fully designated except those which the carver wants to draw attention to. This is because the artist is not interested in simply replicating nature. He is creating the doll for a purpose, not simply for decoration. Consider the following dolls from different parts of the world and you will notice similarities in anatomy- they all emphasize feminine features. These crude figurines tell the observer that different ideas about life developed in different places at the same time.

“Venus or woman of Willendorf” (Named after the site in Austria where it was unearthed)

Steatopygous Idol from ancient Greece

Steatopygous Idol from ancient Greece. Also probably a fertility doll.

Fertility statue of the Akan tribe of Africa

Wooden fertility statue of the Akan tribe of Africa

African fertility dolls are mostly used for performance of  rituals usually for young girls when they reach puberty. The doll usually has feminine qualities such as breasts, hips and buttocks emphasized, like all three images above and of course this creates what the western critic will call distortion or irrationalism to which I completely agree. But art expresses the inner significance of things not the outer (Aristotle, 384-322 BC). Unlike the Corinthian statues of Zeus or Aphrodite which are realistic and life size, African art is highly symbolic and symbolism is the end product of imagination. Look at the Akuaba fertility doll and you get to know how the artist was feeling and thinking the whole time and the purpose to which the doll will be put. Moreover the doll itself was considered a good luck charm for barren women desirous of children, so it solves an emotional problem in the larger cultural context. In conclusion, the art forms of Africa are a tool, an aid to everyday living. The purpose or use is of higher priority than mere beauty and this why they appear symbolic or even bizarre. There is no logic but there is truth – emotional truth.