claude & and the wanderer
type: posts
I’m a huge proponent of using AI for writing. Ethically, of course: while some folks seems to be replacing every text based application with generated AI slop - from cold e-mails to personal love letters - I’ve personally had great success in the ways of organization. Something I have learned while writing these blog posts is that for me, writing is a way to force myself to solidify my jumbled ideas, usually by organizing them in a narrative way that just makes sense to me (and maybe to others). As a result, I often come to conclusions not while just thinking, but also while writing, too.
Using AI has been a huge boon in this - many times I would end up writing slop myself and having the AI companion tell me that, hey, we’re just circling the point here - but what’s the true feeling? Great, now add that in - and we’ve got something groovy cooking. And other times, it’s been helpful to just brain dump all of my ideas and connections about a particular topic with the visage of “I really, really want to write something about this topic - I have a bunch of ideas and notes here, can you help me clarify / tell me questions to ask myself to pick out my thesis?”
My most recent adaption of this was for this post using the latter method described above. As you can tell from these posts, I’ve spent the past year and change reading and occasionally pining about philosophy. I’ve written specifically about Nietzsche a few times, and today will be once more. After reading a few passages in The Gay Science1 and pondering a bit to try and decode what Nietzsche is attempting to prevail to us, I thought for sure there was a connection to similar thoughts Beauvoir writes about in Ethics of Ambiguity2. Yes, the connection was clearly there - but what’s there to write about? Just two smart people agreeing / one building on top of one another? That’s not too interesting of an essay, right?
Enter: AI. Claude seemed to agree. After lamenting to Claude, it spit back the same thought: yeah, let’s try to dig in a bit more since that’s not really that interesting. After some back and forth of deep probing questions of how “my (to be written) essay lives in between the crack of what we’re discussing” (or some platitude), and some clarification questions about the Nietzsche/Beauvoir intersection and my understanding - I got a little frustrated. I just wanted to write about something I found interesting! I even retorted: “I don’t know man, can’t I just write about connecting these ideas?” As expected, I got back some slightly sycophantic AI slop permitting me to do that, but not without reprimanding me about taking the easy “exit” in this scenario - great, thanks for the lecture, Anthropic.
But you know what: fuck it, I’ll write the simple version, and I’ll really try to give it my best.
Enter, the Wanderer.
Nietzsche did not write traditional fiction; rather, his collection of actors consisted primarily of make-believe archetypal players that became referenced throughout his works. One of these characters is named, the “Wanderer.” This character is first introduced in the book of poems preceding The Gay Science. Rhyme 27, self-titled “The Wanderer” which writes:
No path, abysses, death is not so still! –
You wished it, left the path by your own will.
Now remain cool and clear, O Stranger:
For you are lost if you believe in danger.
With just this context, the poem reads as a cheerful 1880s motivational poster: leaving the “planned” path is only scary if you give into fear: “for you are (only) lost if you believe in danger”. Honestly, it’s kind of giving, “Not all those who wander are lost” written on a cute animal poster hanging in your grade school teacher’s classroom. However, in conjunction with his other writings, this figure becomes a little bit more impactful.
The Wanderer is introduced again in aphorism 287 in the same book, titled “Delight in Blindness.” This figure enshrines the idea that his thoughts should remain in the present: they should show him where he currently stands but not betray him on where he is going. He does, “…not wish to perish of impatience of tasting things ahead of time”. Here, the Wanderer embraces the idea that the destination does not permit and validate the journey - rather, the journey itself does; it is imperative to trust yourself in your current state. Do not let your future thoughts dictate your present state and live presently instead.
The context of Nietzsche’s previous passages continue to give the character more weight. Aphorisms 276, 278, 283; titled “For the new year”, “The thought of death”, and “Preparatory human beings” respectively, continue to vindicate this character. In 276, Nietzsche introduces the concept of ‘Amor Fati’; truly embracing whatever happens in life. This continues with his thoughts on death in 278 - “It makes me happy that men do not want at all to think the thought of death! I should like very much to do something that would make the thought of life even a hundred times more appealing to them.” Then he has a full send off in 283 which basically likens to: LIVE DANGEROUSLY!!! (well, he does actually say that, but with a lot more weight behind it: I recommend reading the full passage).
Taking it all in: we can see the Wanderer take shape through Nietzsche’s eyes. With these, the prior poem evolves from a motivational epithet to one of comfort. Not depending on some stringent “future state” to guide you is not a bug, it’s a feature; as such the reminder to “remain cool and clear” is only needed if you are really lost here. The followup of living dangerously and accepting fate only propels this forward.
With the Wanderer showcased, now Beauvoir enters the stage. Simone de Beauvoir is most known for her novel The Second Sex, a foundational work in feminist philosophy. The French intellectual was also a closet existentialist philosopher, exposing herself in her other work, Ethics of Ambiguity (I joke here: from my observations, the former book seems to overshadow the second in terms of popularity). At its core, the book is a manual on how to deal with existential dread in an ethical manner. As with most other existentialist work, the book builds upon a lot of Nietzsche’s ideas, but there is one particular connection worth exploring in context of the Wanderer.
One slice discussed in the book is the ethics behind letting the future certify you. She writes: “Man ought not entrust the care of his salvation to this uncertain and foreign future: it is up to him to assure it within his own existence” (129). Here, she asserts thats no future will completely certify you; so no future arrives where you reach a sudden point in which you must now “live.” There is NO ideal cosmic state; you must live NOW, and human existence is a MOVEMENT. For example, setting finite goals as absolutes is a failure as things are meaningful when they propel you forward and the present is real only if you do something with it. Beauvoir continues: live presently and make decisions without all of the information. Man must act without guarantees, as ACTION is ultimately what gives it meaning. The END should not promise anything so, do not put too much reliance on the future and the goal! Real creativity comes from being entangled in the world - not looking at it from the outside (84). Thus, one of her ultimate conclusions is that inaction is unethical (133).
So it becomes clear that Beauvoir’s thoughts on living ethically are very similar to Nietzsche’s and what he embodies with the character of the Wanderer. From Beauvoir: yes, embrace the process, don’t let the impending future certify your means. Give it your best EFFORT despite there being no defined “END GOAL.” As no future will certify you, so live fully and commit yourself to your cause; this is one of the ways to embody living ethically. However: “This does not mean that one should consent to failure, but rather one must consent to struggle with failure against respite.” (170) With this, the distinction between the two is subtle: where Nietzsche’s character delights in the blindness, Beauvoir seems to warrant the struggle.
Living fully does not always breed positivity; life is full of negative aspects. Though with Beauvoir, you must remain fully aware and consent to these: you must struggle with failure against all respite. It is simply not enough to live life in delight. This is not to say that Nietzsche would not agree with the fact that life has its struggles - but the acceptance and thoughts behind them is the difference. “Amor Fati” via Nietzsche gives more of “So what; this is what happens - that’s life, baby” whereas Beauvoir here invites a constant rebellion that screams Camus: struggle against respite, and take pleasure in it. Nietzsche makes this whole payoff-less journey we call life seem more akin to a party with some slight bumps while Beauvoir makes it more of an active rebellion.
So circling back, what’s the point of this blog? And what’s the point of me writing? Yeah, I can totally just write an essay connecting these ideas but the important matter is to give everything my best effort. I don’t know if anyone will read it - there is no ultimate payoff from writing these things, but the fact that I am passionate about these subjects and am lit up by the connection - and that it inspires me to write about it - and give random advice such as this - THAT is the true thing. Writing random garbage, scraping drafts, racking my brain around these thoughts, arguing with linear algebra visualizations. There is art to the struggle, and sometimes that’s the point. I’ll write whatever I want, embrace the struggle - even if that includes arguing with word predictors.
Fuck you, Claude.