Dexter, Democracy, and Nietzsche: Puzzling Through

the Deep End of America's TV Obsession

By Maxwell G. Mensinger

Abstract
Within the milieu of American television, the vigilante serial killer,
Dexter, stands alone with one of the largest audiences. Why should a
violent antihero, who stalks and kills other serial killers, be so appealing
to Americans with a democratic, law-abiding background? Does this
suggest a growing lack of confidence in the American justice system? Or
does it provide cathartic satisfactions of dark, deep-seated urges muffled
by democratic laws? Specifically, what characterizes this disciplined
vigilante, and what motivates him to kill? More importantly, do antihero
extraordinaires like Dexter deliver a sort of satisfaction or forbidden
urge that Americans desire, but cannot attain in a civil order?
Introduction
His gloved hands grip the blade, both fists, strong above his victim. The
victim looks horrified, but that doesn't stop the knife that, after hovering
momentarily in pregnant anticipation, descends quickly and mercilessly.
The body is sliced up, packed into a few neat Heftys, and dropped into the
bay. It's a cool Miami evening for Dexter Morgan: officer, family man,
serial killer, protagonist. Not only is Dexter a protagonist, but his
show, Dexter, has shattered the Showtime network's viewing records. The
season four finale had three million viewers, and thousands more online.
As a show, its fan base is growing rapidly, without showing any signs of
receding. How, one may wonder, can such a decadent main character
attract such broad popularity in a country with a firm lawful framework?
Why would such immoral actions fascinate a population that enjoys
arguably extensive freedom and wholesome communities? Why does
Michael C. Hall, who plays Dexter, receive numerous awards for his
performance as such a seemingly evil person? One thing is clear: people
like Dexter. This essay investigates these questions, primarily using
evidence from Nietzschean philosophy, in hopes of providing adequate
answers to the above inquiries. First, Dexter is analyzed as a character;
secondly, the current governmental and economic context of the United
States is classified; and finally, the paper articulates exactly what it is
about America that drives its desire for Dexter.

The Overman
Nietzsche has several characters within his texts. His most famous and
most elusive character is the overman. Nietzsche's overman only exists as
a character in Thus Spoke Zarathustra; his other books never, or very
rarely, mention the overman explicitly. Zarathustra proudly declares 'I
teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome'
(Nietzsche TSZ 12). Zarathustra describes man as 'a rope, tied between
beast and overmana rope over an abyss...What is great in man is that he
is a bridge and not an end: what can be loved in man is that he is
an overture and a going under' (Nietzsche TSZ 13). Just as humans
consider themselves above apes, man...for the overman is a
laughingstock or a painful embarrassment (Nietzsche TSZ 13). Humans
at their greatest simply perish to make way for the overman. Zarathustra
loves him 'who works and invents to build a house for the overman and to
prepare earth, animal, and plant for him: for thus he wants to go under'
(Nietzsche TSZ 15). Even Zarathustra himself is only one of the heavy
drops, falling one by one out of the dark cloud that hangs over men that
herald the advent of lightning, whereas the lightning [itself] is called
the overman' (Nietzsche TSZ 16).
The overman lives beyond conscience, and beyond good and evil. One way
of seeing the overman is literal. With such a reading, modern day people
cannot possibly imagine such a man, what he would act like, or even what
he would look like. The overman is a separate species in itself, superior in
every way to man. The overman is a thing of the future; exceptional
human beings can create, become, and overcome great obstacles, but their
lives only serve as progress towards the grander transition of the human
being into the overman. In other words, the overman exists outside of any
human contexts.
Another way of seeing the overman, however, is as a state of mind. Above
all else, people are limited by their temporal existence, and the will
suffers from its inability to change the past (Havas 11). The cripple
describes such frustration to Zarathustra:
Willing liberates; but what is it that puts even the liberator himself in
fetters? 'It was' that is the name of the will's gnashing of teeth and most
secret melancholy. Powerless against what has been done, he is an angry
spectator of all that is past...that he cannot break time and time's
covetousness, that is the will's loneliest melancholy (Nietzsche TSZ 139).
Feelings of doubt, helplessness, regret, and transience are the real plagues
to liberation. The cripple pines over the hump in his hunchback, or his
blindness, etc., but all of this ties one inextricably to their past limitations.
Regret for 'what could have been' represents a large, perhaps the largest,
impediment to improvement, to saying 'yes' to life. One who is
bermenschlich, that is, one with the overman mindset, works to exercise
his will free regardless of such constraint, to recognize what he does as
having value despite its imperfections and transience, and to exist in the
moment independent of guilt or constraint. To put this thought simply, an
bermenschlich individual recognizes the conditions of his existence,
but does not care. Nietzsche describes such a person:
[One] could conceive of such a pleasure and power of self-determination,
such a freedom of the will that the spirit would take leave of all faith and
every wish for certainty, being practiced in maintaining himself on
insubstantial ropes and possibilities and dancing even near abysses. Such
a spirit would be the free spirit par excellence (Nietzsche GS 290).
Men must have issues and problems to overcome, for the overman itself is
just a conviction, and [men] of convictions are prisoners (Nietzsche AC
153). No human being can escape the inalienable conditions of his
existence, namely being perspectival and living temporally. Because of
such permanent limitations, one can never truly transcend his human
nature to become an overman. However, Nietzsche holds that far from
being a hindrance to agency, the situated, perspectival character of action
is in fact a necessary condition of it (Havas 21). As Zarathustra makes
clear, every overman needs an overdragon that is worthy of him;
greatness requires [your] wildcats to first turn into tigers, and your
poisonous toads into crocodiles; for the good hunter shall have good
hunting (Nietzsche TSZ 144). This notion of overcoming and becoming
suggests that one cannot be great unless he has conquered, and is
conquering, growing issues. There is no 'overman' per se, unless we think
of the overman as a state of mind, as being bermenschlich. Just as
lightning strikes instantaneously and randomly, as do one's deeds in this
temporal existence, it does so without regard to any target and without
any deference to the past, present, or future. Lightning exists as pure
energy, and emerges furiously from the ground reaching towards the sky.
The overman as an agent appears idealistic and unattainable, whereas
bermenschlich qualities and endeavors are entirely attainable, if not
transient and only momentarily evident. One who possesses such
attributes will henceforth be called a 'free spirit,' for such a man is
attainable, yet still human.

Free Spirit?
One might wonder why I choose the seemingly arbitrary free spirit as the
manifestation of the overman. The name free spirit indeed requires more
justification than just one quote from The Gay Science, but there are
reasons why this title is sufficient for our purposes. Firstly, Zarathustra
discriminates between the overman and the higher man:
The higher its type, the more rarely a thing succeeds. You higher men
here, have you not all failed? Be of good cheer, what does it matter! How
much is still possible!...Is it any wonder that you failed and only half
succeeded, being half broken? Is not something thronging and pushing in
youmans futureYou higher men, how much is still possible! And
verily, how much has already succeeded! (Nietzsche TSZ 293).
This distinction, present not only in this passage but throughout the
fourth book of Thus Spoke Zarathustra, suggests that aside from the ideal
of the overman, men can indeed be higher. These higher men are fallible,
experimental, often erring, and far from over humanity. However, they are
not herd animals, and they are certainly higher than last men. What
makes them higher is that they are particularly bermenschlich.
A significant amount of scholarly research investigates exactly what
Nietzsche means by higher men, for the term is vague. Throughout his
writings, Nietzsche discusses admirable traits and qualities, as well as
various characters, both good and bad. Weaver Santaniello identifies
eight supposedly higher men in a particular study of Zarathustra,
namely: the soothsayer, the two kings, the conscientious of spirit, the
magician, the last pope, the ugliest man, the voluntary beggar, and the
shadow (Young 1). Broadly, Zarathustra teaches each what he lacks, and
this knowledge helps to elevate them above mediocrity. These characters
are, however, rooted in Nietzsches historical time period. This essay does
not tackle an inquiry into all such specific characters because their
existence simply proves that higher men can, and do, exist within
Nietzsches texts as conceivable types of people.
A free spirit embodies the qualities of a particular type of higher man. In
relation to the previously defined bermenschlich qualities, one could
conceive ofpleasure and [the] power of self-determinationa freedom of
the will present within a free spirit (Nietzsche GS 270). The term free
spirit allows us to conceptualize the higher man outside of Thus Spoke
Zarathustra. It is a concrete, workable manifestation of the broadly
defined higher man. Mark Jonas claims that the true self, or the higher
self, is the hope and the promise that one can become strong, whether
one is a genius or the common individual (Jonas 14). Again, this notion of
bermenschlich struggle comes to define the individual as higher, rather
than some sort of physical or mental perfection. Such defining struggle
presents itself in the character of the free spirit. From this logic, I argue
that the higher man, or the free spirit as he will be known henceforth, is
an bermenschlic, realistic manifestation of the overman.
The Overman Clarified
We thus have two conceptions of the overman: the first is as an ideal
which arguably no human can achieve. There are, then, no conditions
upon which to identify a material overman, he is either a myth, or
inconceivable, for the purposes of this essay at least. I will no longer
address this literal conception of the overman. The other conception
though, that of the free spirit, has several conditions we can identify. First,
the free spirit strives to overcome his limitations, both temporal (like guilt
or regret), and perspectival. Second, the free spirit's will expresses
superabundant raw power, a vehement 'yes' to life. He perpetually works
to overcome, discover, and express this power, and though he may falter,
his ambition and will to power remains strong. Third, as quoted above,
this free spirit abandons all faith and every wish for certainty for he is
practiced in maintaining himself on insubstantial ropes and possibilities,
and is comfortable dancing even near abysses (Nietzsche GS 290). Such
a person may still seek truth with the knowledge that he can never acquire
it, and will still struggle against internal and external obstacles with the
knowledge that he can never overcome all obstacles. Finally, though a free
spirit recognizes his limitations, he still takes full responsibility for his
actions, therefore imposing his will over the limitations by sapping their
influence over him. The will, and the value of that will, are manifest in the
struggle itself.
To clarify, a free spirit need not be devoid of morality. Indeed, the free
spirit's morality is simply no longer the bitterness and passion of the
person who has torn himself away and still feels compelled to turn his
unbelief into a new belief, a purpose, a martyrdom (Nietzsche GS 286).
In other words, the free spirit's morality must be grounded in the
knowledge that the way of this world is anything but divine, or else
one's morality will say 'no' to life as does the Christian's (ibid). Even
more explicitly, he identifies everyhealthy morality [as] governed by an
instinct of life (Nietzsche TI 174). Excellent people do not necessarily
need to be beyond good and evil, they simply need to be excellent, which
is to constantly struggle towards and aspire to greatness as described by
the four characteristics above.

The Last Man
Another of Nietzsche's characters, the last man, appears only in Thus
Spoke Zarathustra. This model is completely separate, disgusting, and
somewhat similar to the overman all at once. Zarathustra warns an
audience that 'the time of the most despicable man is coming, he that is
no longer able to despise himself...the last man' (Nietzsche TSZ 17). The
last men claim 'We have invented happiness,...They have left the
regions where it was hard to live, for one needs warmth. One still loves
one's neighbor and rubs against him, for one needs warmth' (Nietzsche
TSZ 17). This last man lives solely within, and for the herd. As Zarathustra
explains 'No shepherd and one herd! Everybody wants the same,
everybody is the same: whoever feels different goes voluntarily into a
madhouse' (Nietzsche TSZ 18). Therefore, the last man is the herd
animal par excellence. His extremely weak will to life makes him
completely interdependent within his community. There is no
individuality within the last man, just a sedated person content in his
weakness and ineptitude. His inability to despise himself represents the
complete loss of self, the capitulation of one's will in its entirety. Nothing
is more pathetic than the last man. There is more to this last man,
however, than Zarathustra's facial description. Later in his journey,
Zarathustra encounters the ugliest man. The ugliness of this man will help
us understand what makes the last men so reprehensible.
The ugliest man murdered God, and despises himself just as much as he
loves himself. He hated God for seeing his essence, seeing his ugliness,
and killed him in revenge.
'How poor man is after all,' he thought in his heart; 'how ugly, how
wheezing, how full of hidden shame! I have been told that man loves
himself: ah, how great must this self-love be! How much contempt stands
against it!...None have I found yet who despised himself more deeply: that
too is a kind of height. Alas, was he perhaps the higher man whose cry I
heard? I love the great despisers. Man, however, is something that must be
overcome' (Nietzsche TSZ 267).
This ugly man, the man who despises himself the most, resembles the last
man in several important ways. Though the ugliest man lives in solitude,
consumed by grief and self-loathing, does not the last man embody
weakness and self-loathing as well on a fundamental level? Indeed, such
self-loathing forced his hand in killing God, so that he could no longer
recognize himself as ugly. This ugliest man killed God, then, because God's
pity was a mirror which reflected his ugliness and his faults. To the ugly
man, God 'had to die: he saw with eyes that saw...man's depths and
ultimate grounds, all his concealed disgrace and ugliness' (Nietzsche TSZ
266). In other words, the ugly man and the last man have both
internalized the pervasive self-hatred that is so poisonous to life.
Therefore, the last man is just like the ugliest man, but more ignorant.
The last man is even less aware of his ugliness, and has completely
surrendered to his weakness. Whereas the ugliest man exiles himself to
live alone in the spirit of masochistic self-hatred, the last man does not
even recognize his weakness, and needs to live among others just like him
to achieve happiness. Both the last men and the ugliest man, unlike the
free spirits, have stopped striving for anything. None of the last men can
ever be free spirits, for their existence is entirely passive; they have
stopped struggling. Their sense of agency, will to life, has evaporated, and
no responsibility can be taken for any action, for only the herd exists
anymore. The last man, then, is everything the free spirit is not.
More specifically, there are several conditions upon which we may base
our definition of a last man. First, and most importantly, the last man is
the same as everyone else in the herd. Nothing distinguishes one member
from another, for 'everybody wants the same, everybody is the same'
(Nietzsche TSZ 18). Second, the last man must exist for the herd. A last
man cannot stand out in any way from any other person, or else he would
go 'voluntarily into a madhouse' (Nietzsche TSZ 18). With this standard,
one could conceivably imagine a last man as an individual whose
independent actions are done in the name of the herd, in which case he
still has agency; this conception is undermined, however by the first
standard, which eliminates any differences between last men. Third, a last
man does not seek truth or seek to overcome anything. He is content in his
ignorance and 'still loves [his] neighbor and rubs against him, for [he]
needs warmth' (Nietzsche TSZ 17). In other words, this last standard
suggests that the last man's existence must be passive, and the suggestion
that a last man does not take responsibility for his actions reasonably
follows, and is indeed inherent within this lack of agency. Lastly, because
the last man is the most excellent herd animal, I will characterize him as
an sick moralizer. As Nietzsche makes clear, the fact that a person needs
a faith in order to flourish...that [cannot] be shaken because [he] clings to
it, that is a measure of...one's weakness (Nietzsche GS 287).
Ecce Dexter Morgan
The antiheroic Dexter Morgan represents many things that Americans are
not, and cannot, be. Independent of any image, or meaning Americans
may project onto Dexter, he exists fundamentally within the show Dexter,
and I will attempt an objective analysis of his character before theorizing
on Americans fancy for him. A brief summary of Dexter reveals a man
with an uncontrollable bloodlust. His mother was killed before him when
he was a child, and he was adopted by the police officer who found him;
when this officer, Harry Morgan, discovers Dexters bloodlust as a small
child killing animals, he resigns himself to the fact that he cannot change
this fundamental element of Dexters nature. Instead, he teaches Dexter to
harness his urges to do good, (that is, to kill other serial killers). He
teaches Dexter how to prove the persons guilt, and then how to avoid
capture. Dexter calls this method The Code of Harry, which includes not
killing innocents, and most importantly, not getting caught. We find
Dexter in his mid-thirties working as a blood-spatter expert in a crime lab,
courting a girlfriend and her kids, spending time with his friends and
police officer foster-sister, and murdering baddies willy-nilly. When he
narrates his thoughts to the audience, they feel as if they are delving into
forbidden, exciting, illicit territory. Such is the necessary context of Dexter
thus far.
Does the general character of Dexter reflect a last man's character? In
order to solve this question, we must first parse through Dexter's
background and compare it with that of a last man. When we find him at
the beginning of the show, Dexter uses his father's code, a preordained
rule of external laws, and feels bloodlust from a traumatic childhood
experience; one could argue that neither Dexter's bloodlust, nor his
unique code belong to him. From this conclusion, one may proceed to say
that Dexter expresses the same contentedness and ignorance about his
existence that a last man would. Dexter, then, seems to satisfy the third
qualification of the last man; more on this soon. With regards to morality,
Dexter appears to correct an imbalance in the world, and to administer
justice to protect the people of Miami (Dexter About Last Night). He
even proclaims that he will do what it takes to keep the innocent people
of Miami safe (Dexter Go Your Own Way).There are two last man-ish
tendencies present in such a purpose. The most evident is his arguably
sick morality. If Dexter goes through all his illicit effort, stalks criminals,
proves their guilt, and executes them, then he seems to personify the last
man, herd-like morality. Even more specifically, when preparing a kill
room, Dexter hangs portraits of his victim's victims, so that before they
die, his victims know that he is executing them to fulfill justice. The other
last man-ish tendency here is thus: although he does not identify with the
herd, and has trouble understanding people, one might believe that
he longs to understand them. Therefore he longs for our first quality of a
last man. His actions, too, are done in the name of the 'innocent people of
Miami,' or in other words, for the herd, which satisfies the second quality
of a last man. According to this interpretation of Dexter, he fully satisfies
three of our last man conditions, and longs to satisfy the first one.
Before I label Dexter as a last man, however, I believe there is more
relevant evidence to consider. At the end of season 2, Dexter delivers a
soliloquy that captures his character quite well:
The code is mine now, and mine alone. So too are the relationships I
cultivate. They're not disguises anymore...My father might not approve,
but I'm no longer his disciple. I'm a master now, an idea transcended into
life. And so this is my new path, which is a lot like the old one, but mine.
To stay on that path, I need to work harder, explore new rituals, evolve.
Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the
answers (Dexter The British Invasion).
This quote shows us a different side to Dexter. Unlike the quotes above,
which were always said in conversation with another character, this quote
is a soliloquy, recited only for the audience. In fact, the entire quote is an
epiphany that occurs after escaping a seemingly inescapable situation.
This is not any regular quote, but rather a climactic moment in the show
and for Dexter as a character. Within it Dexter addresses: first, his
adherence to his father's code; second, and somewhat related to the first,
his independence as a person; third, his ambition; and fourth, his
morality.
First, Dexter's view of his father's code of conduct has changed visibly
from our earlier conclusion. In this passage, Dexter renounces his father's
authority over his code, claiming My father might not approve, but I'm no
longer his disciple (ibid). Dexter's exertion of his will over his
preordained limitations (as determined by his father) show that he has
wrested the authority his father had previously held over him, and
assumed it as his own. Obviously, he still needs a code, or else he cannot
exist as he does; this code is as necessary and unavoidable as developing a
particular perspective, or even existing temporally. Without the code,
Dexter would be caught, and cease to exist. These limitations, however,
are now his, for as he declares, [the] code is mine now, and mine alone
(ibid). By affirming his limitations, he exercises his will over them,
effectively reclaiming control of them by way of imposition.
One might, however, argue that his use of a code whatsoever flatly
disqualifies his free spiritedness. A code of conduct, like Dexters code,
indefinitely limits ones ability to pursue his desires with the animalistic
ferocity characteristic of a free spirit. Is Dexter a slave to his code?
Regardless of whether the code is his, can he really be free if he operates
in such a technical or mechanical way? This opposition is merited, but
not necessarily true. Though Dexter operates by a code, the code was
developed reasonably to avoid capture. Each step is provocative and
important, not arbitrary. Dexter uses his code to channel his energy, not
to demolish his desires. The code is but a vessel for Dexters ambition.
Jonas articulates that the goal of higher men is not merely to discharge
their will to power in haphazard and impulse driven ways, but to
moderate, control, and direct them thoughtfully, even rationally (Jonas
9). If Dexter unleashed his energy without constraint, or without his
methodical code, he would be captured and put to death. Such an end is
not conducive to further living and further growing, which is why one
should use ones reason to determine which expressions of power will
lead to greater power, and which will lead to a diminution of power
(Jonas 12). Without his code and his routines, Dexter risks coming
undone, as he calls it, and falling prey to his own powerful drives and
desires (Dexter First Blood). Because a code is important, even
preferable to a free spirit like Dexter, our main concern lies in whether
the code belongs to him, or his father.
This newfound power, and his refutation of his father, also separates him
on a fundamental level from his father, explicitly with the word 'disciple.'
Clearly, Dexter has become an independent human being much more in
the vein of a free spirit than of a last man. Indeed, he even reclaims the
relationships [he] cultivate[s] (ibid). Dexter acknowledges his need for
relationships with others, while simultaneously identifying himself as the
one in control of those relationships, and further, as fundamentally
separate from others. In no way does he actually long to be a part of the
herd, for the herd has no individuality. His actions are also obviously
not for the herd either, in that when he identifies his future course of
action, he says this is my new path (ibid). Dexter, therefore, no longer
satisfies the last man qualities of existing as the herd, existing for the herd,
or living in a contented, ignorant state.
Rather, so far he more resembles a free spirit. Evidently, he satisfies the
condition of knowing his limitations, and striving to overcome them. This
is evident when he says I'm a master now, an idea transcended into life,
for by declaring himself a master, he recognizes his value and the value of
his work, regardless of its transience in history. He also feels no remorse
or guilt for his actions; there is no sense here that he wishes he were
different, only that he longs to change, or to evolve (ibid). Even the
source of his bloodlust, the traumatic experience which caused it, does not
change Dexter's attitude towards himself or others. He does not regret
having bloodlust, or the alienation he sometimes feels because of it. The
drive within his will is not fueled by a sense of frustration for 'what could
have been,' or retribution for his mother's death; on the contrary, his
singular motivation is to work harder, explore new rituals, [and] evolve
(ibid). From this conclusion, we can see that Dexter's will, like that of the
free spirit, expresses a superabundant raw power. This is not an inherently
destructive drive, though in Dexter it manifests itself in destruction.
Rather, Dexter's drive is to become, create himself, experiment, and
essentially to say 'yes' to life through the pursuit of his craft. This is not to
suggest that Dexter never falters in this, for he encounters many obstacles,
both personal and external. This statement, then, is a general
characterization over time. Dexter develops, and grows stronger over the
course of the show. His existence as a free spirit does not truly begin until
his soliloquy above at the end of Season 2, but even so, the trajectory of his
character throughout the 5 seasons so far shows Dexter constantly
overcoming, growing, and learning. The last man does not grow or change,
he has no need or desire to. The passionate yes to life has left the last
man, whereas one can see it fighting for expression within Dexter. Where
the last man gives into temptation, morality, and laziness, Dexter avoids
such temptations and wills himself towards a higher, freer spirit.
Just as a free spirit abandons all faith and every wish for certainty, so,
too, does Dexter express a desire to rejoice even in uncertainty (Nietzsche
GS 290). When Dexter says Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those
questions. I don't have the answers, he renounces society's imposed
morality in favor of discovering his own more important truths
(Dexter The British Invasion). He's exchanging questions
that society finds important with questions that he's curious about, hence
his drive to explore and evolve. Dexters assessments of pleasure and pain
have no cosmic...[or] metaphysical[] significance to them, and he most
definitely realizes that the world is not a divine place (Nietzsche WP 417).
This godless foundation gives Dexter an awareness of his rare freedom
[and] power over [himself] and over fate, and this becomes his
dominating instinct; an instinct he calls conscience (Nietzsche GM
60). Therefore, Dexter simultaneously affirms his own independent
conscience, and takes responsibility for everything he does. In order to
become bermenschlich, one must establish a certain kind of relationship
to others[for] in relationship to othersthe temporality of agency
islived out (Havas 31). As he notes, the answers to questions like Am I
evil? Am I good? are of no value to him; only through work[ing] harder
and explor[ing] new rituals will Dexter find any satisfaction. Like the
free spirit, Dexter is practiced in maintaining himself on insubstantial
ropes and possibilities and dancing even near abysses, for his serial-
killing activities, like dancing, reject all preordained norms of everyday
herd activity (Nietzsche GS 290). While the last man walks, talks, and
remains passive and content in his fetters, Dexter dances, exuding
creativity, expression, and the will to power in the pursuit of his passions.
Though he may falter, his creative pursuit is overall steadfast and clear.
Dionysian Dexter
Now that I have shown how Dexter is a free spirit, I would like to highlight
another aspect of his character. This aspect is perhaps the most pertinent
to interpreting how Americans perceive Dexter, which will be discussed
later. Dexter exemplifies the free spirit through his existence as an artist.
After obtaining a victim, he plunges his paintbrush (knife) into the paint,
the body of the work, the spirit, the life essence (blood) and creates for the
sake of creation. He lives to create, to evolve, to experiment, to pursue. His
familiarity with his creative essence brings him joy every day, especially in
his job as a blood-spatter analyst for the Miami Metro Homicide
Department. Dexter's most fundamental instincts are creative, his
[thoughts] [light] up in a flash, with necessity, without hesitation as to
[their] form...[he] never had any choice (Nietzsche 126 EH). Indeed, in
the first episode of the series, he claims: Blood, sometimes it sets my
teeth on edge. Other times it helps me control the chaos (Dexter Pilot)
Such familiarity, such intuitive recognition of blood gives Dexter a rare
happiness. Only when creating, painting, becoming, eviscerating (for
Dexter, all are one and the same) does he feel alive and whole. His
willingness to express his overflowing creative energy, to exercise his will,
makes him free. Dionysian indulgence liberates Dexter. One might wonder
how I can be sure if Dexter's drive to indulge is actually Dionysian and
healthy, or whether it is a product of ressentiment towards criminals on
the one hand, and society's laws on the other. Is not Dexter simply stifled
by the legal system? Why are his trespasses considered Dionysian when
the real motive behind them is unquenchable hatred? In other words, why
do I have any reason to believe that Dexter's energy is healthy as opposed
to sick? Nietzsche addresses this issue:
The desire for destruction, change, and becoming can be an expression of
an overflowing energy that is pregnant with future (my term for this, as is
known, 'Dionysian'); but it can also be the hatred of the ill-constituted,
disinherited, and underprivileged, who destroy, must destroy, because
what exists, indeed all existence, all being outrages and provokes them
(Nietzsche GS 329).
I propose that Dexter's energy, according to Nietzsche, is not just anger,
but creative yearning. His destruction has a creative quintessence. He does
not destroy out of superficial frustrations with criminals or societal
limitations, but rather a fervent drive to create and 'explore' as noted
above. His murders are themselves exercises in becoming, for he is
constantly evolving, and testing the limits of the human spirit. His
superabundant, Dionysian desires manifest themselves through violence.
However, can this violence perhaps suggest that Dexter is indeed, as
Nietzsche puts it, 'ill-constituted'? Is his violence a sign of weakness rather
than strength? One might go so far as to suggest that mastering others is
an inferior form of power in Nietzsches mind (Jonas 9). Indeed,
Dexter's bloodlust itself seems to have originated out of trauma, thus
forever tainting his pursuit of it with revenge and hatred for all being.
However, as proved in the previous section, Dexter's bloodlust is not an
expression of hatred for everything. He has come to accept the bloodlust
as his own, and pursues it independent of any ill-will towards the original
wrongdoers. Dexters strength is therefore healthy, and not driven by
outright hatred of all being. Dexter often displays compassionate feelings,
at one point he confesses [If] I could have feelings at all, I'd have them for
Deb, his foster sister (Dexter Pilot). Often, when Dexter pursues a
target, he does so partly out of pure bloodlust, and partly out of a duty to
someone or something. The thrill he gets from tracking down targets,
sedating them, and killing them reflects an amalgamate drive to kill and to
help others. For Dexter, these motives are not separate, but one and the
same. Also, Dexter's relationships with others matter to him, which is
evident when he says They're not disguises anymore. I need them
[relationships], even if they make me vulnerable (Dexter The British
Invasion). Does feeling responsibility for others limit Dexter? Not in the
slightest, because in order to become bermenschlich, one must establish
a certain kind of relationship to others[for] in relationship to othersthe
temporality of agency islived out (Havas 31). Indeed, Dexters senses of
duty, protection, and good will, (when he has such senses) arise freely and
selectively. Again, one sees passion tempered by reason in Dexter; he has
the ability to sublimate [his] desires, impulses and passions [to] use them
in more powerful ways, making him a higher individual (Jonas 12).
Americans, as we will see, are not so free as Dexter, which factors into
their enjoyment of the show. However, before I can accurately describe
America's fascination with Dexter, I would briefly like to analyze what
constitutes American life today.
America in a Nutshell
What constitutes modern America? I cannot pretend to accurately address
this issue in any comprehensive way. I do, however, intend to conduct a
Nietzschean analysis on America. This will help me paint a generalized
American context that will serve my purposes insofar as it allows me to
describe: first, what general conditions Americans all share, for the most
part; and second, which of these Americans constitute Dexter's audience. I
will save the question of why these Americans watch Dexter for a later
section. In his writings, Nietzsche dealt with the problem of society often:
Those fearful bulwarks with which the political organization protected
itself against the old instincts of freedompunishments belong among
these bulwarksbrought about that all those instincts of wild, free,
prowling man turned backward against man himself. Hostility, cruelty,
joy in persecuting, in attacking, in change, in destructionall this turned
against the possessors of such instincts: that is the origin of the bad
conscience (Nietzsche GM 85).
What Nietzsche outlines, broadly, is repression. When man is drawn into
society, it forces him to change and hide his intuitive nature. By hiding
this intuitive nature, however, and suffocating it beneath the skin, one
becomes somewhat masochistic, as embodied most by Christian morality.
This anti-natural morality...which is to say almost every morality that
has been taught, revered, or preached so far, explicitly turns its back on
the instincts of life for it condemns life affirming instincts (Nietzsche TI
174). Laws emerge to limit the exploration of the human spirit, absolute
individual freedom dissolves and is replaced by civil freedom.
The herd thrives in civil society, for laws generally favor the weak, and
even encourage weakness as opposed to banning and punishing strength.
Life, instead of spontaneous adventure and creative realization, becomes
[m]echanical activity characterized by unthinking obedience [in one's]
mode of life fixed once and for all (Nietzsche GM 134). A certain type of
nihilism is present within such a perfunctory life, and for all those who
recognize the worthlessness of that life. This profound depression in both
being and perceiving the herd animal, or the last men,
constitutes our greatest danger, for the sight of him makes us weary.
We can see nothing today that wants to grow greater...what is nihilism
today if it is not that? (Nietzsche GM 44). One might wonder if this is the
legacy that society inevitably creates. Are all societies doomed to nihilism?
Cannot community ease loneliness, and nurture familial and friendly
relations alike? Unfortunately, the potential Nietzschean answers to either
of these questions are far too complicated and extensive to be addressed
fully in this paper. Nietzsche does acknowledge that the formation of a
herd is a significant victory and advance in the struggle against
depression, for within a community, a new interest grows for the
individual [which] lifts him above the most personal element in his
discontent, his aversion to himself (Nietzsche GM 135). Obviously, people
can be self-interested within the context of a society; there are a great
many interests in all societies, and one's struggle for those interests hardly
ever ends. To a certain extent, this can dull the nihilism inherent in
extensive, perfunctory jobs and well-conditioned daily routines. Self
interest within a society can distract one from his ultimately pervasive
confinementsomewhat, though he will no doubt still be tormented by
masochism and sick conscience. Despite this brief escape from complete
nihilism, however, the violent transition to the peace and tranquility of
civil society left the human animal incomplete and indeterminate on a
fundamental level (Conway 15). Again, Nietzsche's philosophy on the
state, or society, is far too extensive for my purposes here to be addressed
in full. What I seek to outline is that society inevitably causes repression
on an individual's instincts, and alters his nature into something sick,
tired, and nihilistic. With this insight, I can begin to hypothesize on the
current state of American society.
America, like all other civilized countries, has a set of laws and
a government to impose them. The governing structure, in a broad sense,
is split up into three main branches, the executive, the legislative, and the
judicial. The only time citizens are directly involved, aside from voting, is
when they selected for a jury. Citizens effectively have no authority in
enforcing legislation passed, or in creating legislation, or in exacting
justice. Even those on a jury often feel burdened by the many rules
limiting their right to speak about what they hear, as well as the obligation
to cooperate amongst each other to reach a conclusion. There are several
objections one may raise at this point in the argument: is not the human
animal naturally social? Does not voting allow citizens a voice in their
government? Also, just because citizens are not directly involved in
decision making or effective politics, does this mean that cooperation
negates all satisfaction derived from civic duty or civic participation?
Indeed, most children have a fundamental understanding that American
freedom exists in the context of American laws, and seem to be content
with living amongst such laws, in a broad, generalized sense. Morals, not
entirely separate from laws, are some of the first societal principles that
parents, religions, and schools expose children to. In general, such
institutions curb aggression, selfishness, dishonesty, and more
importantly disobedience. Here again one might argue that such
tendencies must be curbed in order to ensure a proper civil order.
All these objections are legitimate, but altogether not fundamentally
dangerous to Nietzsche's assertion that the sick and sickly instinctively
strive after a herd organization as a means of shaking off their dull
displeasure and feeling of weakness (Nietzsche GM 135). As explained
above, community, and participation within a community, alleviates
some of the depression inherent in a societal condition. One's vote may be
self-interested, and a single vote does grant the citizen a voice, but a
single citizen's voice becomes quite muted when it is filtered through the
electoral college, and even further through the elected representative.
Thus, though one's vote grants him a certain degree of political power,
such power is insufficient, and ultimately underwhelming in the grander
scheme of Nietzschean free spirited individuality.
Even an excellent human, a free spirit, could be a social being. In fact, a
type of overman presents itself in relation to humanity in general, and
thus exists withinsociety, not separate from it (Nietzsche AC 5). The word
'overman' here does not refer to the otherworldly 'overman' of
Zarathustra, but rather the free spirit I identified earlier. The
bermenschlich quality, what I have called the free spirit, can actually
constitute whole generations, families, or peoples, thus clarifying the
nature of the free spirit as a profound social phenomena, though it can
and does characterize particular individuals as well (ibid). For this exact
reason is Dexter a believable character; his this-worldly, free spirited
existence transcends the transient limitations of American law and social
status quo. However, America is saturated with not only legal and
governmentally structural limitations, but also myriad complex economic
conditions.
One could arguably say that the 2008 economic crisis changed the
common American mindset significantly. Considering the causes and
explanations of what happened, a few things are generally clear: first, that
a majority of Americans are upset about the government bailout of large
corporations; second, that certain larger moneyed powers in America
could easily topple the inveterate institution of capitalism under the right
conditions; third, that underlying the financial system is a complex
network of immaterial conditions as best embodied by the modern stock
market, and these immaterial conditions have made Americans
increasingly detached from the financial structure that so drastically
affects their lives. For this analysis, I will periodically employ Marx as well
as Nietzsche, though I do not mean to equate the two theorists.
The American division of labor implies...[that] each person has a
particular, exclusive area of activity which is imposed on him and from
which he cannot escape (Marx SW 119). In this basic way, people have
less freedom, or at least appear to have less freedom, than the
Nietzschean free spirit. Marx anticipated such invisible boundaries when
he claimed that [in] bourgeois society...the living person is dependent
and has no individuality (Marx 69). Just as with its laws, Americans
economic freedom exists in the context of the jobs available, their level
ofeducation, their family name, the size of their bank account, and other
relatively distant variables individuals can barely predict, or control.
Nietzsche, though fundamentally different in his political theorizing from
Marx, noticed some similar problems. As Mark Warren explains,
Nietzsche viewed the capitalist work ethic as self-destructive...as
mechanical activity, resulting in...unthinking obedience, a mode of life
fixed once and for all (Warren 224).
When the government bailout happened, a majority of Americans did not
support it. Indeed, about 60% of American expressed fear and loathing
about the idea of government committing billions of dollars to solve the
problem, and this discomfort crosse[d] party lines (The Pew Research
Center for the People & the Press). Even among those who supported the
plan, about 70% worried that those responsible would evade punishment,
which they largely did (ibid). The fact that the most prominent concern
Americans held in the face of the economic crisis was that those
responsible would not meet justice tells us that punishment, and the
desire for justice, are both as yet insatiable desires within the American
people. I hypothesize that people, especially American people, encourage
and seek such punishment as a way of reclaiming their lives. Just as a free
spirit would exert his will over a limitation by imposing the limitation
itself, Americans seek to impose the societal and lawful order, as well as
the cutthroat economic order, in an attempt to regain control of them.
However, unlike the free spirit, who generally imposes his own legal
or temporal limitations, Americans have as yet only conceived of
American legal and capitalist economic limitations; because the citizen is
alienated from both, as noted above, he can thus never truly exert his will
over it, and therefore never truly impose it. One could most definitely
argue, as Marx has, that people are more enslaved to a power alien to
them, namely the world market (Marx SW 123). The normal American,
it seems, is doomed to this nihilistic frustration within the American
context. This frustration is only magnified by the promise of the American
dream, which grows increasingly more elusive and distant each day.
The American dream is a myth, and many people have begun to realize
this. Before I continue, let me clarify just what I mean by 'myth.' There
are, broadly speaking, two American dreams: one consists in becoming
rich, owning many cars, having an attractive wife, etc.; the other, however,
is more simple in that it imagines a house in the suburbs with a white
picket-fence, a lawn, a loving family, and a dog. Both of these dreams are
altogether unsatisfying, which is partly what I mean by 'myth.' The former,
that of the rich man, is almost entirely impossible for most people. This
particular dream attributes abundant social mobility to American life, an
immaterial and transient if not altogether nonexistent class structure, and
compensation for an individual's work ethic and risk-taking temperament.
America's liberal institutions promise jobs and fair working conditions,
among other illusions, like financial security, and job security. As
Nietzsche predicted, however, nothing damages freedom more terribly or
more thoroughly than liberal institutions (213 Nietzsche TI). These
institutions simply hold the promises of freedom without ever actually
delivering them. Someone might object here, that America's social
mobility is evident and prevalent still, or further, that the free market
provides people with many choices of potential jobs and products in an
ever growing marketplace. However, when the wealthiest ten percent of
people owns over ninety percent of the wealth, a concrete lack of social
mobility, and prominence of class structure becomes apparent, which
wreaks upon the country's moral and intellectual climate a heavy,
strangulating sense of the emptiness and futility of life (Baran and
Sweezy 281). Though there may seem to be a lot of choices for jobs and
products, these choices are streamlined more to make money than to fully
satisfy the customer. In other words, the choices are external; one has no
control over the American context. A being only regards himself as
independent when he stands on his own feet, and he stands on his own
feet only when he owes his existence to himself (Marx SW 77). In this
sense, the first American dream is a 'myth' due to its impossibility.
The second American dream, however, that of the suburbs, is indeed
attainable. In fact, many have attained it. The 'myth' then is its promise
of happiness. The suburban American landscape hides and suffocates the
free spirit more than almost any other context. Many are fooled by the
Declaration's promise of everyone's inalienable right to the pursuit of
happiness. They are fooled in that they assumed happiness is money, a
house, a dog, and numerous other products. The happy existence becomes
that of the consumer, who chooses what to purchase and purchases. Once
attained, however, many find its promise of happiness a farce, for the
perfunctory job and daily routine prove to be just as depressing as before,
despite the comfortable living. Though one may pose the same objections
to this American dream as they did to the first one, the same answers
remain: American life, for some, is entirely unfulfilling and nihilistic.
This nihilism manifests itself almost everywhere within America in
different degrees. A majority of the American pop culture scene, in
particular, expresses this nihilism. Due to a lack of creativity, and a lack of
the free spirited, vehement 'yes' to life, the artistic expression within
movie theaters, coffee houses, popular novels, and other items, becomes
muted and dull. Nietzsche's belief that the state hastens the destruction
of peoples by usurping their social fabric of customs and rights begins to
resemble America (Warren 228).. However, though the state indeed does
this in America, one might extend the word 'state' to include industries
like Hollywood, and others, which maim art of its value through mass-
production, leaving Americans overexposed to most forms of art, and
jaded. Though freedom of expression allows for the proliferation of
numerous television shows, movies, books, and other sorts of media
(including Dexter itself), most available entertainment is formulaic and
redundant. All too familiar productions are reflected through typical
sitcoms, romance/fantasy novels, and a wide swath of other mediocre
entertainment. Americans rarely witness true art, the bulwark of a healthy
culture. An abundance of repetitive, unaesthetic material has transformed
most Americans' television-viewing, book-reading, movie-watching rituals
from active enjoyment into habitual boredom. Real beauty, born of
creativity, invigorates; it reminds us of states of animal vigor...[and
serves as] an enhancement of the feeling of life, a stimulant to it
(Nietzsche WP 422). Beauty itself is relative to individuals' most
fundamental values of preservation (Nietzsche WP 423). Every person
may reconnect to his or her primordial nature through art, but few have
been able to do so in the relatively dormant vacuum of American pop
culture.
Are Americans last man-ish? In some ways, they seem to be. Their
nihilism and contentedness with mediocrity in their own lives surely
resembles last man-ish tendencies. However, there is a shadow side to
such tendencies as seen above. Unlike the last men, or the traditional
herd, Americans subconsciously feel squandered by the herd. On the one
hand, they do not feel adequately human in the herd. On the other hand,
they are too afraid to leave it for a higher life, and would probably prefer
the easy life of the last man to difficult struggles of the free spirit.
Americans have, one might say, a love-hate relationship to America. They
do not want to live with it (to a certain extent), but they really do not want
to live without it. There is, then, a potentially disconnect between how
people act every day, and what they like to read, watch, or think about.
This, I argue, is the primary separation between most Americans and free
spiritedness.
As this section addressed America, it articulated some generalized drives
within many Americans, but did not identify who exactly watches Dexter.
Fandom
Though one might, at first glance, assume that Dexter's audience consists
of disillusioned 18 to 20 year old males, at second glance Dexter's fan base
reveals itself as large and quite ecletic. As blogger HieroHero notes,
Dexter's audience is 50% female. Wendy Dennis, an author for
Maclean's articulates how Men aspire to Dexter's 'James Bond-like
power and clarity,'...whereas women admire his 'etiquette among thieves'
(Dennis 2). She candidly describes why women like Dexter in more detail:
Sure, he keeps a ghoulish stash of his victims' blood samples behind his
air conditioner, and leads a sinister double life. But he's brilliant at his job,
mordantly funny...deeply aware of his limitations, and gallant toward
women (he thoughtfully made [his girlfriend's] troublesome ex
disappear) (Dennis 2).
For my purposes, these confessions should be accepted only at surface
value, Dexter is an appealing character to both men and women within
America (and Canada, apparently).Despite Dexter's outrageously
masculine characteristics, he is alluring to both men and women. One may
genuinely be surprised by this aspect of Dexter's demographic, but he
surely cannot refute it. When an edited version of Dexter aired on CBS, the
show multiplied its viewership by seven, totaling 8.1 million viewers as
opposed to an average 730,000 viewers; this was following the first
season, and the show has only grown in popularity since then (The New
York Times). The show has also received widespread critical acclaim, and
in 2010 Michael C. Hall won the Golden Globe for Best Performance by an
Actor In A Television Series Drama, as well as a Screen Actors Guild
award for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series.
The show has much more than a cult following, and though not
comparable to shows like American Idol in its audience, it has generated
enough attention to inquire into what makes so many Americans so
attracted to Dexter. From this point forward, I will refer to Dexter's
particular audience as both 'America,' and 'Dexter's audience,' for the
demographic is widespread and eclectic enough to suggest more-or-less
normalcy inDexter's American fan base. Rather than identifying some
discernible difference between Dexter fans and regular Americans, I
postulate that there indeed are none. Other than the fact that fans might
enjoy the crime-drama genre more, or a variety of other inconclusive
variables, I believe the most important reasons some are drawn to Dexter
are found in their status as Americans, not their status as weird people. In
other words, I will ignore any distinction between 'Dexter's audience' and
'America' for facility in writing, and also because the generally American
conditions listed above, when juxtaposed with Dexter as the Nietzschean
free spirit, are the concepts that will give us insight into why so many
normal Americans are drawn to Dexter.
Dexter Contra America
In America, in which the Constitution supposedly fosters equality of
opportunity, safety, liberty, and justice for all, why would people be drawn
to a dangerous wrongdoer like Dexter Morgan? One might think that such
a sinister vigilante would be unpopular, and that the show would fail
before its first season ended.
To be sure, a wide swath of America seems disgusted by Dexter's
popularity. In particular the Parents Television Council (PTC) opposed the
show's premier on CBS, claiming that '[t]hey intend to air material that
effectively celebrates murder' (New York Times). The show receives flak
whenever a mentally unstable fan decides to exercise some vigilantism in
Dexter's name; this has sadly happened several times. Many people
however, upon hearing of Dexter, immediately refuse to watch it. Others
despise his character's actions as 'disgusting' and leave the room or close
their eyes during a kill. Naturally, most of these people stop watching
entirely. The most accurate name for the sentiments of those actively
opposing Dexter is moral outrage. Indeed, such outrage is implicit in the
many remarks from the PTC, as well as other activist groups against the
show. Moral outrage of any sort at Dexter is an interesting phenomenon.
Why should one feel insulted if Dexter kills on his own time? Why, in fact,
must the show mean anything whatsoever to these persons? Dexter only
exists because Showtime allows cuss words, unlike regular, more widely
viewed cable networks; this rule extends to nudity as well. On regular
cable networks, sexual innuendo is allowed, provided such innuendo does
not lead to any actual sexual encounter. The purpose of repulsion, indeed,
seems to be to exculpate a forbidden desire for the atrocious acts
committed, a yearning that is made licit by an outward appearance of
disgust (Duclos 60). If someone hides his eyes, or vacates the room, he
must obviously feel a need to show his objection to the acts committed. To
viewing buddies, this guy is too kind, too soft for the graphic content. To
Duclos, the disgusted man has more deeply repressed urges than the
others in the room.
I propose that some Americans' repulsion at Dexter signifies a larger
phenomenon of secret identity with hisviolence and destruction. This
identity is founded on a misinterpretation and perversion of the
Nietzschean free spirit's creativity, which I will address later. Americans
do not so completely denounce tales like Batman, or vampires like Edward
Cullen in Twilight. With such protagonists, audiences are spared the
reality, or even the appearance of reality, of tangible bloodlust and
animalistic, Dionysian indulgence. Dexter, therefore, represents the
disturbing human embodiment of the bloodsucking vampire (Duclos
61). America was repulsed when itcaught a glimpse of itself in the mirror
(ibid). Myths like Twilight and Batman gain a terrifying representative in
Dexter, who shamelessly indulges his dark urges without regard for
societal misgivings concerning expression of such dark urges. What
Duclos calls the American 'werewolf complex,' as represented by these
omnipresent dark urges, is America's unwillingness to acknowledg[e] its
urges. It feels obliged to label them as 'bad' (Duclos 119). One might say
that those with any strong aversion to Dexter embody a fundamental fear
of their repressed instincts, and a rejection of one's internal blond
beast prowling about avidly in search of spoil and victory, the hidden
core of one's being that needs to erupt from time to time and never
is allowed within the confines of civil society(Nietzsche GM 41). Of course,
there are numerous Americans who do not watch the show simply because
they do not fancy the genre, or do not want to pay Showtime's network
price. For these people, no deep repression is evident whatsoever, they are
simply indifferent, a sign of self-comfort people from the PTC are
unfamiliar with.
As of now this wildly popular show is nearly five seasons in, and has not
showed any signs of cancellation. I will argue that Americans must
somewhat identify with Dexter's superior liberty: first, within the thrill of
transgression; second, as a creative being, an artist who expresses himself
without limitation. Though this artistic element is somewhat connected to
the thrill of transgression, it is fundamentally separate. Transgression
assumes some form of ressentiment in its completion, a ressentiment
directed against societal laws or criminals. Dexter as an artist, however,
does not inherently express ressentiment. Because Dexter is a free spirit,
he constantly strives to avoid ressentiment (as well as other limitations)
and I have argued that such ill-will is indeed absent from his actions on
the show; Americans, on the other hand, enjoy Dexter partly due to
feelings of both ressentiment in witnessing Dexter's transgression and in
admiration of his artistic self-creation. More on this later.
One might argue that America's fascination with Dexter represents a
longing for more personalized, efficient justice. Rousseaus democratic
vision sees the people...subject to the laws as their author, and further
that public enlightenment results in the union of understanding and will
in the social body; hence the complete cooperation of the parts, and finally
the greatest force of the whole (Rousseau 67). Though citizens vote, few
would say they authored the law, and rarely do Americans feel decisive in
their political authority, as was articulated above. Even if jurists briefly
feel like arbiters of justice when delivering a guilty verdict, the cooperation
required to reach such a verdict was itself a frustrating hindrance to many
people's sense of justice. As Nietzsche supposed, to see others suffer does
one good, to make others suffer even more, for [without] cruelty there is
no festival: thus the longest and most ancient part of human history
teaches (Nietzsche GM 67). In essence, one with this view might argue
that peoples impersonal participation in legislation, and inability to
punish wrongdoers for their transgression, creates sympathy for Dexters
criminal acts. Dexters execution of justice is personal and quick; he
gathers his own evidence, conducts his own searches, and exacts his own
punishments without remorse. There is no lengthy manhunt, defense
attorney, jury selection process, or chance of parole; there is only safer
streets, and compensated victims (ideally). In this sense, people identify
not necessarily with his liberty, but rather with his direct and personal
adjudication, nonexistent in a due-process, criminal rights America.
Though this view may have some truth to it, it only addresses man within
his socio-political context, and fails to acknowledge the animal core within
men that Nietzsche speaks of. Therefore, it can only explain people's
desire for Dexter on a superficial level. Indeed, audiences most identify
with Dexter's liberty, not his efficiency.
An abundance of restrictions through law, and alienation from its
execution, both result in pools of subconscious aggression, frustration,
and energy within peoples consciousness. I addressed this phenomenon
in America in a Nutshell. Also addressed above, Dexter, unconstrained
by such societal tethers, freely unleashes the intense energy that the
human animal experiences in a state of demonic or holy rage (Duclos 9).
Americans feel suffocated by restriction, not only on a conscious level, but
deep within their socially burdened being. Obviously, a certain amount of
repression must occur for one to live in civil society, but due to the
inadequacy of the American dream, people feel powerless and lost.
Dexters actions, his transgression, represents forbidden rebellion that
many Americans find attractive. He is rebellious in two ways: first, his
illicit activities violate the superficial laws and boundaries within society;
second, his nature and means for satisfying it remain undetected by even
his closest friends and family members, thus successfully escaping all
binding and inescapable societal expectations on a fundamental level.
Dexter, through his transgression, frees himself from all constraints that
bother Americans. Dexters thoughts and actions, shared only with the
audience, give the audience a sense of exclusivity and invokes their
sympathy with Dexter. This imagined bond allows audiences to excuse his
transgression and brutality, while also allowing them to excuse any hidden
insecurities, desires, or darknesses they may harbor in their own minds. In
general, the show liberates people to the extent that audiences identify
with Dexter, and enjoy living vicariously through him in an environment
without concrete repercussions for such sympathy; as Duclos so astutely
recognizes, in American culture, criminal violence and the violence that
leads to freedom are inextricably linked (Duclos 35). With such a reading,
people's ressentiment and weakness draw them to Dexter.
However, one might wonder how Americans, with their last man-ish
tendencies, could ever harbor ressentiment against society at all. Would
not all the ressentiment be directed against the criminals Dexter kills? Are
not Dexters victims the very threats to society that herd animals fear the
most? This view employs a perspective that sees Dexter as an instrument
of the herd, and as a sick moralizer. On Dexters character, I have already
set aside the notion that Dexter is a last man, and argued that he is a free
spirit. However, Americans do have last man-ish tendencies, and such
tendencies would never harbor ressentiment against society. Therefore,
because Americans have a twofold existence, referred to above as a sort of
love-hate relationship with society, they express ressentiment both
against Dexters victims and against society. Dexter, then, satisfies both
the last man-ish urges as well as the more free spirited urges
simultaneously: the audience gets to live out ressentiment against
criminals and society. Because this satisfaction arrives via fictional
television, namely Dexter, the more predominant last man-ish qualities
within Americans are not disgusted; the viewer never intends to commit
any actual transgression. In other words, watching Dexter is a safe activity
that does not disrupt ones actual world or daily routine. This still,
however, does not fully address certain visible aspects of Dexters
character, his creativity in particular.
Americans may see Dexter as an artist, restoring
American culture through creative expression, as opposed to being
represented by mechanical, distant government entities. This theory is
somewhat connected to the transgression theory in that art liberates the
individual. In order to fully realize this connection, one must first analyze,
with a Nietzschean eye, the nature of creativity. There are two ways in
which Americans perceive Dexter's free spirited creativity, superficially, in
which they are correct, and subconsciously, in which
they misunderstand him. On a superficial level, Americans recognize
Dexters transgression as the union between strength and self-defined
purpose. They enjoy seeing such artistic expression, the burgeoning
creative will willing its desires, expressing itself without shame. Dexter
fans know they lack the courage to venture to the depths Dexter explores,
and feel somewhat close to him. In other words, fans somewhat
understand Dexter.
This understanding becomes misunderstanding, however, through fans'
perceived empathy with Dexter, which is undoubtedly a manifestation of
their desire to rebel. Dexter, as a free spirit, pours over...[and] consumes
himself...disastrously, involuntarily as part of his nature (218 Nietzsche
TI). There isn't necessarily any ill intention, hatred, or revenge inherent
in his drive to do so. Those who 'empathize' with Dexter, however,
attribute to him a higher type of morality in exchange for their
admiration, a perception which misunderstands Dexter's being. Such
misunderstanding emerges from Americas specific type of repression,
which is magnified by the myth of the American dream, and Duclos'
'werewolf complex.' To a certain extent, as described above, the
damming up of creativity within the individual, caused by state
domination, causes weakness, an unhealthy destructive force,
masochistically feeding on ones will to life. This weakness drives
Americans 'empathy' with Dexter.
One might wonder, however, if Dexter is killing to satisfy justice and
eliminate sinners. How can Dexter have a healthy morality if he targets
only criminals, and makes them feel guilt for their actions? Earlier,
however, I dispensed of this Dexter as the last man argument in favor of
Dexter as the free spirit. He is not an overman in the sense of ideal over-
ness. Rather he is bermenschlich in his ambition and his state of mind.
Thus, Dexter abides by his own morality; he ascribes to none of the guilt
his victims feel, and asks not Am I evil? Am I good? but rather how to
explore new rituals and evolve (Dexter The British Invasion). Along
this line of thought, Nietzsche says:
[I]deas are worse seductresses than our senses, for all their cold and
anemic appearance, and not even in spite of this appearance: they have
always lived on the 'blood' of the philosopher, they always consumed his
senses and even, if you will believe us, his 'heart'...philosophizing was
always a kind of vampirism...What is amor [love], what deus[God], if
there is not a drop of blood in them? (Nietzsche GS 333).
In this passage, Nietzsche connects one's blood, one's creative essence, to
sensory experience. Life is indulgence, particularly Dionysian indulgence.
The cold realm of ideas saps the blood from the individual, detaches them
from beauty, and leaves them cold and desolate. This is why what is great
culturally has always been unpolitical, evenantipolitical (Warren 222).
All the factors limiting Americans today, both legal and economic, are
mainly constituted of foreign, external ideas. To most Americans, as noted
above, laws and their execution, as well as justice, and even the modern
stock market, are concepts without a drop of blood in them (Nietzsche
GS 333). Actions taken by various institutions within the American nexus
of power are devoid of citizen consent or congress. In other words,
Americans are increasingly alienated from the factors that govern their
livelihoods, and with this alienation comes a lack in understanding, and a
feeling of helplessness.
Naturally, I do not mean to suggest that Americans
somehow lack creativity; this cannot be true, for otherwise they would
have no appreciation or sympathy for Dexter whatsoever. Americans
are not last men, though they have last man-ish tendencies, as articulated
above. I simply mean to suggest that people in America have forgotten
their 'blood.' He cleaves through all the disguises civil society places on
people. All the clothes, signs of one's class, indications of wealth, or any
other societal indicators become insignificant; his victims lie bound,
supine, and naked on a table. He draws the life essence from people, he
drowns his kill room with gore, he freely and shamelessly engages in his
deepest desires. Indeed, it is this engagement that liberates him. The
government has no veins, ideas do not bleed. Only people bleed. The sole
reason for existence, one's creative being, the will to power, etc., all such
things are repressed within American civil society. Individuals have
forgotten their blood. Commercialized items, digital expression; in a
word, other persons' ideas characterize everyone's expression. As a
character, Dexter reminds people of their primordial core. He hearkens
back to one's seemingly limitless potential before he or she knew the rules
of American society. Dexter reminds us of that muffled will to create,
grow, and overcome beneath our civil identity. However, despite this
intuitive understanding and appreciation for Dexter's free spirited essence
on a superficial level, people truly enjoy the show because of their deeply
repressed urges that manifest themselves as ressentiment.
Conclusion
Through the course of this inquiry, I first concluded that Dexter was
neither the last man nor the overman, but rather the free spirit, a type of
higher man who exudes bermenschlich qualities and creativity while still
remaining conceivably human. Shortly after, I attempt a brief
Nietzschean-Marxist analysis of American governmental and economic
limitations. I concluded that Americans feel frustrated and trapped in
their work and their home. They have renounced the American dream as a
myth, which resembles that last man-ish capitulation of the will to
ignorance and nihilism, as directly opposed to Dexter, the free spirit who
transcends, or at least strives to transcend, these limitations perpetually,
comfortable maintaining himself on insubstantial ropes and dancing even
near abysses. Next, I identified exactly who Dexter's audience was, and
discussed the trouble with separating Dexter fans from the rest of
Americans. There is nothing special about Dexter fans, other than they
prefer the crime-drama genre to other genres. Other than such a
characteristic, no other significant differences delineate Americans from
Dexter fans. In other words, the extreme repression present in American
society, for many, simply manifests itself in enjoyment of Dexter. Finally, I
came to conclude that Americans enjoy, but misunderstand Dexter. While
Dexter creates himself artistically and without significant limitations,
Americans primarily experience ressentiment through Dexter's violence
and its protagonist's barbarous deeds. Though I concede that
Americans somewhat understand Dexter in that they can admire him as a
free spirit, and his ability to remain independent and forthright in his
actions, I still believe that at a deeper level all Americans, including Dexter
fans, are still subject to the ressentiment and nihilism pervasive within
American society.
There are many areas in which this essay does not go far enough, or
rather cannot go much further, in either diagnosing American society or
explaining why American Dexter fans like Dexter. The audience statistics I
have for Dexter are not large enough, and do not represent enough people,
to make any reliable conclusions about Americans in general. This
essay can, however, provide a case study into a modern American
antihero. Though I was not able to address the genre of the antihero,
Dexter represents one of the larger, more mainstream names in a broader
community of antiheroic figures in modern American television: Walter
White of Breaking Bad, Al Swearengen of Deadwood, Nancy Botwin
of Weeds, Don Draper of Mad Men, and many others. In a further study, I
might take a handful of such popular antiheroic characters and conduct a
larger analysis on their popularity using more information from audience
demographics as well as political surveys.
In analyzing America, I found Nietzschean philosophy somewhat limited
in that it failed to accurately describe Americans extensively enough. No
one Nietzschean character fit Americas quite right, and I was forced to mix
and match character traits at times so as to accurately articulate a point.
In further research, I might draw on a wider array of political
philosophical texts to aid in characterizing America. Despite the pitfalls of
this essay, it provides a detailed, if somewhat incomplete, look into
why Dexter has achieved so much success with American audiences.
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