Selections from the Writings of Kierkegaard
she has her true existence, being an illusion. Through her husband,
on the other hand, she becomes a creature of this world, and he
through her.
Marvelous nature! If I did not admire thee, a woman would teach
me; for truly she is the _venerabile_ of life. Splendidly didst
thou fashion her, but more splendidly still in that thou never
didst fashion one woman like another. In man, the essential is the
essential, and insofar always alike; but in woman the adventitious
is the essential, and is thus an inexhaustible source of differences.
Brief is her splendor; but quickly the pain is forgotten, too, when
the same splendor is proffered me anew. It is true, I too am aware
of the unbeautiful which may appear in her thereafter; but she is
not thus with her seducer.
They rose from the table. It needed but a hint from Constantin,
for the participants understood each other with military precision
whenever there was a question of face or turn about. With his
invisible baton of command, elastic like a divining rod in his hand,
Constantin once more touched them in order to call forth in them a
fleeting reminiscence of the banquet and the spirit of enjoyment
which had prevailed before but was now, in some measure, submerged
through the intellectual effort of the speeches--in order that the
note of glad festivity which had disappeared might, by way of
resonance, return once more among the guests in a brief moment of
recollection. He saluted with his full glass as a signal of parting,
emptying it, and then flinging it against the door in the rear wall.
The others followed his example, consummating this symbolic
action with all the solemnity of adepts. Justice was thus done
the pleasure of stopping short--that royal pleasure which, though
briefer, yet is more liberating than any other pleasure. With a
libation this pleasure ought to be entered upon, with the libation
of flinging one's glass into destruction and oblivion, and tearing
one's self passionately away from every memory, as if it were a
danger to one's life: this libation is to the gods of the nether
world. One breaks off, and strength is needed to do that, greater
strength than to sever a knot by a sword-blow; for the difficulty
of the knot tends to arouse one's passion, but the passion required
for breaking off must be of one's own making. In a superficial
sense the result is, of course, the same; but from an artistic
point of view there is a world of difference between something
ceasing or simply coming to an end, and it being broken off by
one's own free will--whether it is a mere occurrence or a passionate
decision; whether it is all over, like a school song, because
there is no more to it, or whether it is terminated by the Cæsarian
operation of one's own pleasure; whether it is a triviality every
one has experienced, or the secret which escapes most.
Constantin's flinging his beaker against the door was intended
merely as a symbolic rite; nevertheless, his so doing was, in
a way, a decisive act; for when the last glass was shattered the
door opened, and just as he who presumptuously knocked at Death's
door and, on its opening, beheld the powers of annihilation, so
the banqueters beheld the corps of destruction ready to demolish
everything--a memento which in an instant put them to flight
from that place, while at the very same moment the entire surroundings
had been reduced to the semblance of ruin.
A carriage stood ready at the door. At Constantin's invitation
they seated themselves in it and drove away in good spirits;
for that tableau of destruction which they left behind had given
their souls fresh elasticity. After having covered a distance of
several miles a halt was made. Here Constantin took his leave as
host, informing them that five carriages were at their disposal--each
one was free to suit his own pleasure and drive wherever he wanted,
whether alone or in company with whomsoever he pleased. Thus a
rocket, propelled by the force of the powder, ascends at a single
shot, remains collected for an instant, in order then to spread out
to all the winds.
While the horses were being hitched to the carriages the nocturnal
banqueters strolled a little way down the road. The fresh air of
the morning purified their hot blood with its coolness, and they
gave themselves up to it entirely. Their forms, and the groups in
which they ranged themselves, made a fantastic impression on me.
For when the morning sun shines on field and meadow, and on every
creature which in the night found rest and strength to rise up
jubilating with the sun--in this there is only a pleasing, mutual
understanding; but a nightly company, viewed by the morning light
and in smiling surroundings, makes a downright uncanny impression.
It makes one think of spooks which have been surprised by daylight,
of subterranean spirits which are unable to regain the crevice
through which they may vanish, because it is visible only in the
dark; of unhappy creatures in whom the difference between day and
night has become obliterated through the monotony of their sufferings.
A foot path led them through a small patch of field toward a garden
surrounded by a hedge, from behind whose concealment a modest
summer-cottage peeped forth. At the end of the garden, toward the
field, there was an arbor formed by trees. Becoming aware of people
being in the arbor, they all grew curious, and with the spying
glances of men bent on observation, the besiegers closed in about
that pleasant place of concealment, hiding themselves, and as eager
as emissaries of the police about to take some one by surprise.
Like emissaries of the police--well, to be sure, their appearance
made the misunderstanding possible that it was they whom the minions
of the law might be looking for. Each one had occupied a point of
vantage for peeping in, when Victor drew back a step and said to
his neighbor, "Why, dear me, if that is not Judge William and his
wife!"
They were surprised--not the two whom the foliage concealed
and who were all too deeply concerned with their domestic enjoyment
to be observers. They felt themselves too secure to believe
themselves an object of any one's observation excepting the
morning sun's which took pleasure in looking in to them, whilst
a gentle zephyr moved the boughs above them, and the repose-fulness
of the countryside, as well as all things around them girded the
little arbor about with peace. The happy married couple was not
surprised and noticed nothing. That they were a married couple was
clear enough; one could perceive that at a glance--alas! if one is
something of an observer one's self. Even if nothing in the wide
world, nothing, whether overtly or covertly, if nothing, I say,
threatens to interfere with the happiness of lovers, yet they
are not thus secure when sitting together. They are in a state
of bliss; and yet it is as if there were some power bent on
separating them, so firmly they clasp one another; and yet it
is as if there were some enemy present against whom they must
defend themselves; and yet it is as if they could never become
sufficiently reassured. Not thus married people, and not thus
that married couple in the arbor. How long they had been married,
however, that was not to be determined with certainty. To be
sure, the wife's activity at the tea-table revealed a sureness
of hand born of practice, but at the same time such almost childlike
interest in her occupation as if she were a newly married woman
and in that middle condition when she is not, as yet, sure whether
marriage is fun or earnest, whether being a housewife is a calling,
or a game, or a pastime. Perhaps she had been married for some
longer time but did not generally preside at the tea-table, or
perhaps did so only out here in the country, or did it perhaps
only that morning which, possibly, had a special significance
for them. Who could tell? All calculation is frustrated to a
certain degree by the fact that every personality exhibits some
originality which keeps time from leaving its marks. When the
sun shines in all his summer glory one thinks straightway that
there must be some festal occasion at hand--that it cannot be
so for every-day use, or that it is the first time, or at least
one of the first times; for surely, one thinks, it cannot be
repeated for any length of time. Thus would think he who saw
it but once, or saw it for the first time; and I saw the wife
of the justice for the first time. He who sees the object in
question every day may think differently; provided he sees the
same thing. But let the judge decide about that!
As I remarked, our amiable housewife was occupied. She poured
boiling water into the cups, probably to warm them, emptied them
again, set a cup on a platter, poured the tea and served it with
sugar and cream--now all was ready; was it fun or earnest? In
case a person did not relish tea at other times--he should have
sat in the judge's place; for just then that drink seemed most
inviting to me, only the inviting air of the lovely woman herself
seemed to me more inviting.
It appeared that she had not had time to speak until then. Now
she broke the silence and said, while serving him his tea: "Quick,
now, dear, and drink while it is hot, the morning air is quite
cool, anyway; and surely the least I can do for you is to be a
little careful of you. The least?" the judge answered laconically.
"Yes, or the most, or the only thing." The judge looked at her
inquiringly, and whilst he was helping himself she continued: "You
interrupted me yesterday when I wished to broach the subject, but
I have thought about it again; many times I have thought about
it, and now particularly, you know yourself in reference to
whom: it is certainly true that if you hadn't married, you would
have been far more successful in your career." With his cup still
on the platter the judge sipped a first mouthful with visible
enjoyment, thoroughly refreshed; or was it perchance the joy
over his lovely wife; I for my part believe it was the latter.
She, however, seemed only to be glad that it tasted so good to
him. Then he put down his cup on the table at his side, took out
a cigar, and said: "May I light it at your chafing-dish"? "Certainly,"
she said, and handed him a live coal on a tea-spoon. He lit his
cigar and put his arm about her waist whilst she leaned against
his shoulder. He turned his head the other way to blow out the
smoke, and then he let his eyes rest on her with a devotion such
as only a glance can reveal; yet he smiled, but this glad smile
had in it a dash of sad irony. Finally he said: "Do you really
believe so, my girl? What do you mean?" she answered. He was
silent again, his smile gained the upper hand, but his voice
remained quite serious, nevertheless. "Then I pardon you your
previous folly, seeing that you yourself have forgotten it so
quickly; thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh[57]--what
great career should I have had?" His wife seemed embarrassed
for a moment by this return, but collected her wits quickly and
now explained her meaning with womanly eloquence. The judge
looked down before him, without interrupting her; but as she
continued he began to drum on the table with the fingers of his
right hand, at the same time humming a tune. The words of the
song were audible for a moment, just as the pattern of a texture
now becomes visible, now disappears again; and then again they
were heard no longer as he hummed the tune of the song: "The
goodman he went to the forest, to cut the wands so white." After
this melodramatic performance, consisting in the justice's wife
explaining herself whilst he hummed his tune, the dialogue set
in again. "I am thinking," he remarked, "I am thinking you are