Have you ever wondered what it truly means to be ‘Faustian’ ? Recently, I encountered an interpretation that compelled me to respond. I inquired, through a comment on a post in Metamodern Christianity, about the term ‘Faustian,’ which I perceived was quite wrongly used. The response I received was partly a quote from the book The Listening Society by Hanzi Freinacht:
“With the advent and development of agriculture we have what I call a faustian age; symbol-stage C. I call it ‘faustian’ because people can now reach for power, glory, and mastery over others through organized violence and accumulation of military prowess—controlling territories, resources, and populations. Like in the story about Faust, you can ‘sell your soul’ for ascension and power.”
— The Listening Society
Contemplating this, I soon sensed that it was my responsibility, in the name of truth, to be frank and rip apart the above embarrassing and derogatory lie perpetuated by Hanzi Freinacht. This incoherent labeling is some of the most ignorant and infantile demonizing rhetorics I’ve encountered. The story of Faust is NOT about “selling your soul for ascension and power through organized violence and the accumulation of military prowess—controlling territories, resources, and populations.” It’s rather quite the opposite.
The actual story of Faust is simply a poetic dramatization of a systematic modeling of a developmental journey, integrating the shadow that occurs in later stages, very similar to the one described by Susan Cook-Greuter in the Action Logics model.
Invitation to dialogue:
But why this harsh critique, some readers might ask? Well, the deepest reason is that perhaps I might learn something from ‘Hanzi’. And perhaps they could learn something from me. Therefore, I invite them to engage in honest dialogue, mostly regarding why he/they choose to perpetuate these harmful lies.
Faust’s existential crisis:
Faust is a doctor who is fed up with conventional education and/or society, which he experiences he has mastered completely but concluded that he really received nothing from, other than some instrumental admiration from students who are not truly interested in learning but merely pay lip service to him—‘blowing smoke up his ass’—in order to get good grades, as we can read in this passage:
“Medicine, law, and philosophy—you’ve worked your way through every school. Even God help you, theology, and sweated at it like a fool. Why labor at it any more? You’re no wiser now than you were before. You’re a master of arts, and a doctor too. And for ten years all you’ve been able to do is lead your students in a fearful dance through a maze of error and ignorance. All this misery goes to show—there’s nothing we can ever know. Oh yes, you’re brighter than all those relics—professors and doctors, scribblers and clerics. No doubts or scruples trouble you, defying hell and the devil too. But there’s no joy in self-delusion; your search for truth ends in confusion. Don’t imagine your teaching will ever raise the minds of men or change their ways. And as for worldly wealth, you’ve none. What honor or glory have you won?”
He critiques his own self-delusion (conventional programming) and acknowledges that “All this misery goes to show—there’s nothing we can ever know”—flirting with Socrates’ definition of wisdom in The Apology: “I am wiser than he is (speaking about a certain politician) — for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows; I neither know nor think that I know.”
Encounter with Mephisto:
So Faust then consciously defies his own programming and decides to turn post-conventional, or rather, in the developmental terms of Cook-Greuter and Bill Torbert, go ‘Magician/Construct-Aware’.
“A dog could stand this life no more. And so, I turn to magic lore.”
A little later in the story, a poodle follows Faust from the marketplace to his studio, where Faust feels the impulse to start reinterpreting the Bible to establish his own personal understanding of it:
”A reverent impulse now inspires me to take the ancient text and, with sincerity, translate the Holy Gospel of St. John into my own beloved native tongue. I read, “In the beginning was the Word,” but here already I must hesitate. The mere Word, for me, has no such resonance, and is translated in a different sense. Now, if the Spirit guides me right, I ought to say, “In the beginning, there was Thought.” Consider well, the deeper truth escapes the hasty pen, for is it Thought that shapes and drives creation at its very source? Far better, “In the beginning was the Force.” Something tells me, even as I write, that this is not the meaning that I need. The Spirit helps me. Now I see the light. I have it. “In the beginning was the Deed (Act).”
In simpler terms, Faust now perceives how deeds, or ‘acting,’ speak louder than words (he moves into the “It’s-quadrant”)—but during his reinterpretation, the poodle starts transforming into something demonic, which initially scares Faust. However, when he sees the poodle finally take the form of a traveling scholar, he notices a resemblance to himself in his new acquaintance, Mephisto. Faust begins to integrate the shadow by transcending the dichotomy of ‘good and evil.’ He stops demonizing and starts relating, as elaborated on in Nietzsche’s book Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future.
“Faust exclaims: “Das war also des Pudels Kern! —So that was the poodle’s core! A traveling scholar. Well, I like your style.
Mephisto: Congratulations to you! I admit you had me rather worried for a while.
Faust: Who are you, then?
Mephisto: A part of that same power that would forever work for evil, yet forever creates good.
Faust: And does this riddle have some explanation?
Mephisto: I am the spirit of perpetual negation.”
Shadow integration:
This is where Faust starts to see through people (and himself), discerning their true essence. He perceives them as power-hungry and envious dogs who put on a show to ‘get treats’, seeking rewards, so to speak, behind a facade of piety and goodness. Faust is initially hesitant but somewhat intrigued, and pleased that he managed to trap the devil. He soon inquires about what they could learn from each other, while Mephisto asks to be released.
”Mephisto: But now, with your permission, may I go?
Faust: I don’t see why you need my leave. We’ve gotten to know each other. So feel free to visit when you please. There’s the door, and there’s the window. You could surely get out through the chimney, too. Mephisto: Well, yes. There is a snag, I have to say. There’s just one little obstacle in the way. That magic sign drawn on the floor.
Faust: Is it the pentagram that keeps you in?
Mephisto: Yes.
Faust: So tell me then, you son of hell and sin, however did you get in through the door? How could a demon let himself be fooled?
Mephisto: Take a close look. It’s not perfectly ruled. That corner pointing out into the street. As you can see, the two lines don’t quite meet.
Faust: Now, that’s a very fortunate mistake. I’ve caught the devil, and he can’t escape. And quite by accident, it would appear.
Mephisto: The poodle didn’t notice when he came in here. But now, the situation’s changed, and so the devil could get in, but he can’t go.
Faust: You can leave by the window, I’d have thought.
Mephisto: Demons and spirits have their code. We may come in just as we please, but then we’re caught. We have to leave the house the same way.
Faust: So hell has its own laws and regulations, too. That’s very good. So tell me, I dare say it’s possible to make a pact with you.
Mephisto: Indeed. If you negotiate with us, you’ll find the offer tempting. And we never cheat. But these things can’t be rushed. So, we’ll discuss the matter in more detail the next time we meet. For now, I would respectfully require your kind permission to retire.
Faust: Come, stay a little longer. You can tell me something about the bargains you might sell me.
Mephisto: Please, let me go. I’ll soon be back again, and you can ask me all about it then.
Faust: I didn’t trick you into coming here, you know. You got yourself into this snare. It isn’t often that you get the devil where you want him, so you don’t just let him go.
Mephisto: If that is what you wish, I will remain and keep you company a while. On one condition, though, that I can entertain you with my talents in the proper style.
Faust: Why, yes, of course. You must feel free. I hope you have something pleasant, though, to offer me.
Mephisto: My friend, in just one hour tonight, you’ll have more sensual pleasure and delight than in a year of everyday monotony. What these airy spirits sing to you, and the visions that they bring you, are no empty magic dream. Sweetest perfumes will beguile you, all your senses ravish, while you feast on fruits you’ve never seen.”
It turns out that what Faust is actually interested in is for the ‘devil,’ Mephisto, to teach him some ‘spells’ on how to pick up women, which he does successfully. But this also implies that he begins to learn how to interact with the world in a more real, instinctive, and influential way. Thus, he starts a beautiful and somewhat dangerous adventure of self-discovery beyond the confines of conventional education and policy.
Quick overview of the entire work:
Premise:
— Faust, a scholar, deeply learned but quite dissatisfied.
— Unfulfilled in love, wealth, and power; finds knowledge pointless; wishes for death.
— Faust encounters Mephisto and makes a pact for rekindled energy, great looks, and techniques that give him confidence to pick up women.
Temptations:
— Could remain a bookworm but longs for action.
— Explores sensory pleasures but seeks deeper fulfillment in beauty and love.
— Risks becoming a shallow, charismatic political leader but chooses to pursue a nobler path and vision.
Part two:
— Faust organizes the development of a new, enlightened society.
Moral lessons:
— Knowledge: Goes beyond academia and actually applies his philosophy to life.
— Sensuality: Does not fall for mindless pleasure but seeks genuine love.
— Power: Uses it for higher purposes, not megalomania.
Psychology and philosophy:
— Confronts and integrates shadow aspects.
— Strives for holistic development and unification of opposites.
— Embodies the ideal of an enlightened, fully realized human being, an Übermensch, according to Nietzsche’s definition.
So again, the story of Faust is NOT about “selling your soul for ascension and power through organized violence and the accumulation of military prowess—controlling territories, resources, and populations,” as Hanzi and metamodern philosophy would have you believe with their faulty and harmful labeling.
The ‘Faustian’ idea suggests that to truly evolve, we must sometimes stop demonizing and instead flirt with what we perceive as dangerous. These engagements help us more fully integrate our shadow. However, it is crucial to avoid enslavement or succumbing to these temptations, as it is often said that “The devil plays the best tunes.” We must always maintain a clear sense of higher, noble purpose.
Translated into Wilberian terms, Faust, in its poetic language, is about entering ‘Second tier’, not aborting self-actualization, nor collapsing due to existential angst, negating faith, or similar challenges. Instead, it involves integrating the whole spiral by mirroring the microcosm in relation to the macrocosm and creating an integral synthesis (a Magnum Opus), thereby spurring new inspired culture by unifying (not exterminating) opposites.
This is what Nietzsche meant when he formulated the idea of the Übermensch, much based on Goethe. Thus, becoming construct-aware, and stop categorizing and labeling divisively and incorrectly, as this is the real cause of your and others’ illnesses. Hence we start healing the pathologies of the soul, by embracing the holistic self.
Then we move to ‘Third Tier’: Start witnessing the unitive self by engaging action and non-action without attachment to outcome or ulterior motives (Kant’s categorical imperative). Here, we begin understanding realization as a verb, not a destination; and more and more we unite with our apex self, becoming an integrated, freely functioning human being.
These are the ideas that the rest of Faust elaborates on by the means of dramatic poetry, and it took Johann Wolfgang von Goethe approximately 60 years to complete. He began writing Faust: Part One around 1772-1775, and it was published in 1808. Faust: Part Two was completed in 1831, shortly before Goethe’s death in 1832.
In the spirit of discovery, The Alchemist
Appendix:
If you are wondering about the usage of the symbol of the pentagram in Faust’s first interaction with Mephisto, refer to the Academy Award-nominated Disney movie Donald in Mathmagic Land for further education.
