"Ecce Homo" is Friedrich Nietzsche's autobiography.
There's not much autobiographical information in there, though. Just that he was born in Poland to parents with long Polish bloodlines. (He wasn't born in Poland.) That's about it for simple biographical information. The rest was a never-ending love letter from Nietzsche to Nietzsche.
It's not nice to laugh at people, but I couldn't help myself. By the time Nietzsche got around to his autobiography, he was batshit crazy, just heaping praise on himself. Here are four of his chapter titles: Why I Am So Wise. Why I Am So Clever. Why I Write Such Excellent Books. Why I Am A Destiny.
There were three basic themes in "Ecce Homo": 1) Nietzsche is not only the smartest person in the world, he's also the greatest writer in the history of words. 2) God & religion suck; 3) Except for Wagner, Germans suck.
The biggest joke on Nietzsche is that many of his ideas (especially the "Superman" concept), along with Wagner's music, were co-opted by Adolf Hitler for Nazi Germany's Aryan cult. (NB: To be fair, Nietzsche does make a comment or two against antisemitism)
This book is really a sad farce, though. By this time, Nietzsche's brain was pretty well worm-holed with syphilis, and you can just tell from the inane repetition and egomania that he'd lost it. In his day, he was a revolutionary thinker, and an excellent writer, combining both poetry and prose. This...this is just a hymn to himself, his vainglorious screed reminding us how unbelievably great he is and how ridiculously stupid we are.
Here's how far gone he was: From ["Also Sprach Zarathustra"] onward all my writings are fish-hooks. If nothing was caught, it was not I who was at fault. There were no fish...
(Kindle Locations 1585-1586).
No fish? It must be dead God and those pesky Germans in cahoots. Or--more likely--that Nietzsche had simply run out of bait years before.