# Punch/Volume 147/Issue 3833/The Suppressed Superman

THE SUPPRESSED SUPERMAN.
"What are you reading, Arthur?" I said.
"Nietzsche," said Arthur.
I sneezed in response. "Isn't that the chap," I said, "who's really responsible for the war?"
"People like you think so," he said.
"The reading of philosophy," I said, "was never in my line. Give me the exact sciences; Euclid for me every times."
"Hopelessly moth-eaten," said he. "Most of the schools have dropped him in favour of geometry."
"Bah," I said, "a quibble. But tell me, wasn't it Nietzsche who taught the Germans to think they were supermen or whatever you call 'em?"
"Contrary to the opinion of the man in the street," said Arthur, looking at me rather meaningly, "Nietzsche did not write merely for the benefit of German people, not did he approve, I
​should say, of the German idea of culture. You've been reading the evening papers; you're a wallower, that's what you are. "
"I'm afraid," I said, "you also consider yourself a bit of a superman."
"I admit," he said, "that I've gone a long way/"
"Towards Tipperary?"
"Beyond you," he said, tapping the page of Nietzsche he was reading; "we're not on the same plane."
"You can always get out and change," I said.
"Such flippancy," said Arthur, "is unbecoming in a lance corporal. What you want is a course of philosophy."
"What you want," I said, "is a course of musketry." Arthur, who, like me, is rising forty-six, is sound enough for home defence, but isn't in any Force yet. So, being a lance corporal in the "United Arts" myself, I feel I can throw advice of this sort at him freely.
"I'm going to give you a mental prescription," he said, taking out a pencil and scribbling on an envelope. "Have you read this—Ludovici's Who is to be Master of the World?"
"No, I haven't," I said; "but I can tell you who isn't going to be—in once."
"The Japanese," said Arthur, "think a lot of it."
"I've got a pal," I said, "who'd dearly enjoy a few rounds of mental jiu-jitsu with you. He's got rather advanced ideas."
"Advanced!" said Arthur contemptuously. "We Nietzscheans speak only of being 'complete' or 'nearer completion.'"
It was at this point that Alfred joined in. He was sitting in uniform on the other side of the fire, reading Ruff's Guide.
"Who's that talking about poor old Ludovici?" he asked.
For a moment I was afraid Alfred thought that Ludovici was a horse.
"I was recommending him to this shining light of the Burlington House brigade," said Arthur.
Alfred laughed. "Look here, young fellow," he said, "everybody knows that he (pointing to me) is an antediluvian; but you've gone a bit off the boil yourself, haven't you?"
"What do you mean?" said Arthur, looking rather pained.
"Many Continental theories," said Alfred, "when they die, go to Oxford. I'm afraid your friend Ludovici's theory has been sent down even from there. Have you read Barrow's Fallacy of the Nietzschean doctrine?"
"N-no," said Arthur.
"Or Erichsen's Completion of Self? You can get the paper edition for a bob."
"I'm sorry to say I haven't," said Arthur, who looked sadly chap-fallen. "But I will. However, for the moment club, you I've got a meeting on—our literary know."
"I'm coming round to raid you one night," I said, "to see if you're all registered."
For reply Arthur slammed the door behind him.
"Alfred," I said, when Arthur had left the house, "you astound me. Who are these new friends and their philosophies, Barrow and the Danish fellow, what's his name?"
"Mere inventions," said Alfred, "but they served."
"Then the fat's in the fire," I said; "he'll find out that you've been pulling his leg before lunch-time to-morrow."
"That's all right," said Alfred. "Our lot's booked for Pirbright to-morrow morning, and we shan't meet again till the other side of Peace."