120 Days of Moral Deterioration: Pasolini’s Salò in the Misinterpretation of Nietzsche’s on the Genealogy of Morality
120 Days of Moral Deterioration: Pasolini’s SALÒ in the Misinterpretation of Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morality
“Because we’re not their masters, even the most bizarre manias derive from a basic principle of refinement. Yes, old buggers. It’s a question of delicacy.”
-The Bishop, in SALÒ or the 120 Days of Sodom
“No festivity without cruelty; such is the lesson of the earliest, longest period in the history of mankind – and even in punishment there is so much that is festive!”
-On the Genealogy of Morals, 2nd essay, 6th section
A Call for Transvaluation
In the continuous struggle to make something of who we are and what we are doing here, exactly, we find that are at a loss for definition; the murk of our times has saturated what meaning we can come to, rendering us philosophically immobile. Grappling with the demands of reality while keeping up with the pace of post-modernity proves to be a daunting responsibility, but alas, it is a chore we must reconcile ourselves with. As Nietzsche proclaims, “We remain unknown to ourselves, we seekers of knowledge, even to ourselves: and with good reason,”[1] he begins to assemble the foundations for what would be a thorough investigation - - a search, for that sense of comfort we associate with certainty - - as we (re-)discover who we are, and what it means to be us. The troubling implication of not knowing ourselves is, quite obviously, we cannot expect to understand our own operations. In choosing to act in a certain manner, does the question of whether it is good or bad (or right or wrong, or even - - good or evil) still come into the picture? Do we simply know if what we are doing is good, or otherwise? How did we ever learn to make the distinction (and consequently, a wide separation) between the two apparent poles of morality, given the vast expanse of human experience? As we consult our quasi-metaphysical code of conduct time and again, the outward rigidity of what we understand to be our
“Because we’re not their masters, even the most bizarre manias derive from a basic principle of refinement. Yes, old buggers. It’s a question of delicacy.”
-The Bishop, in SALÒ or the 120 Days of Sodom
“No festivity without cruelty; such is the lesson of the earliest, longest period in the history of mankind – and even in punishment there is so much that is festive!”
-On the Genealogy of Morals, 2nd essay, 6th section
A Call for Transvaluation
In the continuous struggle to make something of who we are and what we are doing here, exactly, we find that are at a loss for definition; the murk of our times has saturated what meaning we can come to, rendering us philosophically immobile. Grappling with the demands of reality while keeping up with the pace of post-modernity proves to be a daunting responsibility, but alas, it is a chore we must reconcile ourselves with. As Nietzsche proclaims, “We remain unknown to ourselves, we seekers of knowledge, even to ourselves: and with good reason,”[1] he begins to assemble the foundations for what would be a thorough investigation - - a search, for that sense of comfort we associate with certainty - - as we (re-)discover who we are, and what it means to be us. The troubling implication of not knowing ourselves is, quite obviously, we cannot expect to understand our own operations. In choosing to act in a certain manner, does the question of whether it is good or bad (or right or wrong, or even - - good or evil) still come into the picture? Do we simply know if what we are doing is good, or otherwise? How did we ever learn to make the distinction (and consequently, a wide separation) between the two apparent poles of morality, given the vast expanse of human experience? As we consult our quasi-metaphysical code of conduct time and again, the outward rigidity of what we understand to be our