Volume 17: Kierkegaard's Pseudonyms (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources) [1 ed.] 9781472457639, 1472457633

Table of contents :
Cover
Halt Title
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
List of Contributors
Preface
Acknowledgments
List of Abbreviations
“A” the Aesthete: Aestheticism and the Limits of Philosophy
A, B, and A. F….: Kierkegaard’s Use of Anonyms
Anti-Climacus: Kierkegaard’s “Servant of the Word”
Constantin Constantius: The Activity of a Travelling Esthetician and How He Still Happened to Pay for the Dinner
Frater Taciturnus: The Two Lives of the Silent Brother
H.H.: A Guerrilla Writer After Theologians…and More
Hilarius Bookbinder: The Realm of Truth and the World of Books
Inter et Inter: Between Actress and Critic
Johannes Climacus: Humorist, Dialectician, and Gadfly
Johannes de silentio: Religious Poet or Faithless Aesthete?
Johannes the Seducer: The Aesthete par excellence or on the Way to Ethics?
Judge William: The Limits of the Ethical
Nicolaus Notabene: Kierkegaard’s Satirical Mask
The One Still Living: Life-View, Nihilism, and Religious Experience
Petrus Minor: A Lowly and Insignificant Ministering Critic
Quidam: Earnest for Ten Minutes a Week
Victor Eremita: A Diplomatic yet Abstruse Editor
Vigilius Haufniensis: Psychological Sleuth, Anxious Author, and Inadvertent Evangelist
William Afham: The Line by Which an Ape May Become an Apostle
The Young Man: Voice of Naïveté
Index of Persons
Index of Subjects

Citation preview

KierKegaard’s Pseudonyms

Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources Volume 17

Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources is a publication of the søren Kierkegaard research Centre

General Editor Jon stewart Søren Kierkegaard Research Centre, University of Copenhagen, Denmark Editorial Board Finn gredaL Jensen KataLin nun Peter ŠaJda Advisory Board Lee C. barrett maría J. binetti istvÁn CzaKÓ HeiKo sCHuLz Curtis L. tHomPson

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

Edited by KataLin nun and Jon stewart

First published 2015 by Ashgate Publishing Published 2016 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017, USA Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business Copyright © 2015 Katalin nun, Jon stewart and the contributors Katalin nun and Jon stewart have asserted their right under the Copyright, designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the editors of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data a catalogue record for this book is available from the british Library The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows: Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms / edited by Katalin nun and Jon stewart. pages cm.—(Kierkegaard research ; volume 17) includes index. isbn 978-1-4724-5763-9 (hardcover) 1. Kierkegaard, søren, 1813–1855. 2. anonyms and pseudonyms. i. nun, Katalin, 1969– editor. ii. stewart, Jon (Jon bartley), editor. b4377.K5144 2015 198’.9—dc23 2014038480 isbn 9781472457639 (hbk) Cover design by Katalin nun

Contents

List of Contributors Preface Acknowledgments List of Abbreviations “a” the aesthete: aestheticism and the Limits of Philosophy Ryan Kemp

ix xi xvii xix

1

a, b, and a. F….: Kierkegaard’s use of anonyms Joseph Westfall

27

anti-Climacus: Kierkegaard’s “servant of the word” Jakub Marek

39

Constantin Constantius: the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner Gabriel Guedes Rossatti

51

Frater taciturnus: the two Lives of the silent brother Wojciech Kaftański and Gabriel Guedes Rossatti

67

H.H.: a guerrilla writer after theologians…and more Paul Martens

89

Hilarius bookbinder: the realm of truth and the world of books Elisabete M. de Sousa

97

inter et inter: between actress and Critic Joseph Westfall

107

vi

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

Johannes Climacus: Humorist, Dialectician, and Gadfly Lee C. Barrett

117

Johannes de silentio: religious Poet or Faithless aesthete? Ryan Kemp

143

Johannes the seducer: the aesthete par excellence or on the way to ethics? Nathaniel Kramer

159

Judge william: the Limits of the ethical Patricia C. Dip

177

nicolaus notabene: Kierkegaard’s satirical mask Nassim Bravo Jordán

193

the one still Living: Life-view, nihilism, and religious experience Matthew Brake

205

Petrus minor: A Lowly and Insignificant Ministering Critic Thomas J. Millay

215

Quidam: earnest for ten minutes a week Mariana Alessandri

223

victor eremita: a diplomatic yet abstruse editor Joaquim Hernandez-Dispaux

243

vigilius Haufniensis: Psychological sleuth, anxious author, and inadvertent evangelist Lee C. Barrett

259

william afham: the Line by which an ape may become an apostle Mariana Alessandri

281

Contents

vii

the young man: voice of naïveté Jochen Schmidt

303

Index of Persons Index of Subjects

311 317

List of Contributors Mariana Alessandri, university of texas-Pan american, 1201 university dr., edinburg, tX 78539, usa. Lee C. Barrett, Lancaster theological seminary, 555 w. James st., Lancaster, Pa 17603, usa. Matthew Brake, george mason university, 4400 university dr., Fairfax, va 22030, usa. Nassim Bravo Jordán, universidad iberoamericana, Prolongción Paseo de la reforma 880, Lomas de santa Fe, 01210, mexico City, mexico. Patricia C. Dip, instituto de Ciencias, universidad de general sarmiento, Juan m gutierrez 1150, (1613) Los Polvorines, buenos aires, argentina. Gabriel Guedes Rossatti, universidade Federal de santa Catarina—uFsC, Programa de Pós-Graduação em Filosofia, Campus Universitário—Trindade—CEP 88.040-970—Florianópolis, santa Catarina, brazil. Joaquim Hernandez-Dispaux, université Catholique de Louvain, institut supérieur de Philosophie, 14, Place du Cardinal mercier, 1348 Louvain-la-neuve, belgium. Wojciech Kaftański, australian Catholic university, Faculty of theology and Philosophy, Locked bag 4115 dC, Fitzroy, victoria, melbourne, australia. Ryan Kemp, university of notre dame, department of Philosophy, 100 malloy Hall, notre dame, in 46556, usa. Nathaniel Kramer, brigham young university, department of Humanities, Classics, Comparative Literature, 3008 JFsb, Provo, ut 84602, usa. Jakub Marek, Faculty of Humanities, Charles University in Prague, U Kříže 8, 158 00 Praha 5 Jinonice, Czech republic. Paul Martens, baylor university, department of religion, one bear Place #97284, waco, texas 76798-7284, usa.

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Thomas J. Millay, duke divinity school, box 90968, durham, nC 27708-0968, usa Jochen Schmidt, universität Paderborn, Fakultät für Kulturwissenschaften, institut für evangelische theologie, warburgerstraße 100, 33098 Paderborn, germany. Elisabete M. de Sousa, Centro de Filosofia da Universidade de Lisboa, Faculdade de Letras, alameda da universidade, 1600-214 Lisbon, Portugal. Joseph Westfall, department of social sciences, university of Houston-downtown, one main street, Houston, tX 77002, usa.

Preface one of the elements that many readers admire in Kierkegaard’s skill as a writer consists in his ability to create different voices and perspectives in his works. instead of unilaterally presenting clear-cut doctrines and theses, he confronts the reader with different personalities and figures who all espouse different views. It has been thought that this is a part of Kierkegaard’s general strategy of communication that creates a context that allows the readers to consider issues critically for themselves instead of simply looking to him to provide the answers for them. this puts the focus on the reader and on one’s own subjectivity. Kierkegaard was keen to shun any sense of authority that often accrues to writers, and so it was important to him to find ways to avoid being immediately associated with the thoughts that were being presented in his works. one important aspect of this play of perspectives is Kierkegaard’s use of pseudonyms. as he outlines in The Point of View for My Work as an Author and On My Work as an Author, he divided his authorship into signed works and pseudonymous works. the goal with this was to reach different kinds of readers in a way that was most appropriate for them. the signed works spoke to the common religious believer and had a primarily religious content. by contrast, the pseudonymous works tended to be somewhat more academic in nature and, while including many religious themes, treated other topics as well, such as philosophy, theater, and literary criticism. moreover, in some cases Kierkegaard’s name appeared as editor of a work that was ascribed to a pseudonym, a constellation that raises further questions. the creation of the series of pseudonymous writings allowed Kierkegaard to distance himself from the content of his works. it made it possible for him to present ideas in the name of a fictional author. This was not unusual at the time; indeed, the famous danish-norwegian writer Ludvig Holberg (1684–1754) used pseudonyms a century earlier, and this was also a common practice among both the german romantics1 and many authors of the danish golden age.2 but in Kierkegaard’s case the matter was more complex and even convoluted. He used a pseudonym not because he feared persecution from the censors, as was often the case, but for different reasons like those just noted concerning his conceptions of Christianity and communication. 1 Here one need only think of the pseudonyms novalis (for georg Philipp Friedrich Freiherr von Hardenberg) and Jean Paul (for Johann Paul Friedrich richter). a similar strategy is employed by e.t.a. Hoffmann in The Life and Opinions of Tomcat Murr. there Hoffmann appears as the editor of the work, which is said to be written by a cat by the name of murr. 2 see the extensive list of pseudonyms from the period that appear in H. ehrencronmüller’s Anonym- og pseudonym-lexikon, for Danmark og Island til 1920 og Norge til 1814, Copenhagen: H. Hagerup 1940. uffe andreasen, “Pseudonymliste,” in Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post, vols. 1–4, ed. by uffe andreasen, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzels boghandel a/s 1980–84, vol. 4, pp. 600–601.

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up until the publication of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript in 1846 Kierkegaard took pains to keep up the façade of the pseudonyms. indeed, in that work he has his pseudonymous author Johannes Climacus review the works of the other pseudonymous authors in the chapter “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature.”3 but then, presumably thinking that the Postscript would be his last work, he wrote “a First and Last explanation” which he appended to the text. there he reveals that he is the author behind the pseudonyms Constantin Constantius, Frater taciturnus, Hilarius bookbinder, Johannes Climacus, Johannes de silentio, nicolaus notabene, victor eremita, vigilius Haufniensis, and william afham.4 He gives these authors the responsibility for the ideas and thoughts contained in the works. Quite surprisingly, he states “in the pseudonymous books there is not a single word by me.”5 Further he asks the reader to refer to these authors and not himself when discussing the ideas presented in these works: “therefore, if it should occur to anyone to want to quote a particular passage from the books, it is my wish, my prayer, that he will do me the kindness of citing the respective pseudonymous authors’ name, not mine….”6 in the history of Kierkegaard research his use of the pseudonyms was long regarded as an oddity. even scholars who were otherwise quite sympathetic to him dismissed this as a wholly superfluous feature of his writing that had its origin in some idiosyncrasy of Kierkegaard’s personality. but in the end it was thought that all of the ideas and analyses contained in the pseudonymous works could safely be attributed to Kierkegaard. For example, walter Lowrie (1868–1959) wrote in the introduction to his translation of The Concept of Dread in 1944, “we need not therefore apply to this book s. K.’s emphatic admonition not to attribute to him anything that is said by his pseudonyms. This was his first completely serious book, and everything we find in it may safely be regarded as his own way of thinking.”7 this sentiment was representative of the general view that there was no real reason to be particularly concerned with this somewhat eccentric feature of his writings. in the last 25–30 years, however, this view has changed as scholars became more attentive to the differing views of the pseudonymous authors. How could all of these be ascribed to Kierkegaard’s actual position if in fact the views presented were very different or even contradictory? some scholars began taking the pseudonyms more seriously,8 but this did not become a major issue in the research literature until 1993 SKS 7, 228–73 / CUP1, 251–300. SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. 5 SKS 7, 569f. / CUP1, 625–6. 6 SKS 7, 571 / CUP1, 627. 7 walter Lowrie, “translator’s Preface,” in Kierkegaard, The Concept of Dread, trans. by walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1944, p. x. 8 For example, Lars bejerholm, Meddelelsens dialektik. Studier i Sören Kierkegaards teorier om språk kommunikation och pseudonymitet, Copenhagen: munksgaard 1962, see pp. 211–303. alastair mcKinnon, “Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms: a new Hierarchy,” in American Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 6, no. 2, 1969, pp. 116–26. Henning Fenger, Kierkegaard: The Myths and Their Origins, trans. by George C. Schoolfield, New Haven: Yale University Press 1980, pp. 21–3. m. Holmes Hartshorne, Kierkegaard, Godly Deceiver: The Nature and Meaning of his Pseudonymous Writings, new york: Columbia university Press 1990. 3 4

Preface

xiii

when the literary scholar Roger Poole (1939–2003) published his influential book, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication.9 Influenced by postmodernist literary theory and notions such as the death of the author and the infinite deferral of meaning, Poole argued that if one wished to understand Kierkegaard correctly it was imperative that his different pseudonyms be kept separate from one another and taken seriously in their own right. He argues that Kierkegaard’s use of irony, humor, and other forms of misdirection required that the reader become more reflective about the nature of the interpretation of his works. He condescendingly dubbed the earlier scholars “blunt readers” in the sense that they immediately ascribed to Kierkegaard whatever they found in the works of his pseudonyms without considering that by writing under a pseudonym Kierkegaard might have had something more sophisticated in mind. Poole’s work evoked a critical discussion about the issue, especially with his suggestion that a part of the goal of the use of pseudonyms was to undermine the ideas presented. Since many readers identified with the conception of Christianity or Christian faith that appeared in Kierkegaard’s works, Poole’s thesis seemed threatening since it seemed to imply that none of this was ever meant to be taken seriously, or worse, that Kierkegaard presented these views in order to covertly undermine them.10 other critics insisted that despite the different pseudonyms, there is still always something distinctively Kierkegaardian that runs throughout his writings and that there is a unity in the authorship as a whole.11 Poole’s view seems to presuppose that Kierkegaard had a clearly conceived strategy from the start such that Kierkegaard knew when he started to write a given work that it would be ascribed to a specific author. Thus he could put ideas or stylistic elements into the text that would be characteristic of that author. this raises important philological questions since it is necessary to determine exactly when in the course of the composition of a specific work Kierkegaard hit upon the idea of ascribing it to a pseudonym. but contrary to Poole’s view, it seems that in the case of some of the pseudonymous works, the idea of the pseudonym was not something carefully planned from the start but rather was almost an afterthought that Kierkegaard came up with at the very last minute before delivering the manuscript to the printer. this presents a problem for Poole’s reading, which seems to rely on a highly selfroger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville: university Press of virginia 1993. see also his “towards a theory of responsible reading: How to read and why,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2002, pp. 395–442, especially pp. 413ff.; “the unknown Kierkegaard: twentieth-Century receptions,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 48–75, especially pp. 58–66. 10 see C. stephen evans, Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self: Collected Essays, waco: baylor university Press 2006, p. 29; p. 35; pp. 67–9; p. 80. see also evans’ book review of Poole’s The Indirect Communication in Religious Studies, vol. 30, no. 4, 1994, pp. 531–2. mark tietjen, Kierkegaard, Communication, and Virtue: Authorship as Edification, bloomington: indiana university Press 2013, pp. 17ff. david r. Law, Kierkegaard’s Kenotic Christology, oxford: oxford university Press 2013, p. 3, note 8. merold westphal, Kierkegaard’s Concept of Faith, grand rapids, michigan: eerdmans 2014, p. 138. 11 george Pattison, Kierkegaard’s Upbuilding Discourses: Philosophy, Literature, and Theology, London and new york: routledge 2002, pp. 4ff. 9

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conscious and reflective use of the pseudonyms by Kierkegaard. If Kierkegaard did not have the idea of the individual pseudonyms meticulously formulated as a part of his grand authorial strategy after all, but rather they simply appeared in a somewhat arbitrary or ad hoc fashion at a stage when the actual texts were already written, then this would clearly damage the view that Poole is defending. examples of this kind of problem can be seen in the genesis of The Concept of Anxiety, which, as is well known, is attributed to the pseudonym vigilius Haufniensis. Philological evidence shows that this pseudonym was a last-minute idea and not a part of a careful plan from the start.12 Here the tension is clear since Kierkegaard originally planned for this to be a work signed in his own name, and although he decided to change this to make it a pseudonymous work, he had already included certain elements in the text that could only refer to him as an author and not the pseudonym vigilius Haufniensis. the work begins with a personal dedication to “the late Professor Poul martin møller,” who had died in 1838, but this only makes sense coming from Kierkegaard, as one of møller’s devoted students, but not from vigilius Haufniensis.13 similarly in one passage Kierkegaard refers to his experience attending schelling’s lectures in berlin,14 and once again this only makes sense as a reference to Kierkegaard himself. there is no reason to think that vigilius Haufniensis went to berlin to attend schelling’s lectures. elements of this kind call into question the idea that each work can be conceived as a unitary whole reflecting the ideas and world-view of a specific pseudonymous author. It appears that the composition of the works is more complicated than that view would allow. while Poole’s views were controversial, his work did play a role in the change of sensibilities in the field with regard to the treatment of the pseudonyms. Now it is common practice among Kierkegaard scholars to distinguish different works by means of the pseudonyms and to say “Johannes Climacus writes…” or “nicolaus notabene says…” instead of “Kierkegaard in Philosophical Fragments writes…” or Kierkegaard in Prefaces says….” this has also led to a new interest in the use and nature of the pseudonyms.15 søren bruun, “tekstredegørelse” to Begrebet Angest in SKS K4, 307–39. see also søren bruun, “the genesis of The Concept of Anxiety,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2001, pp. 1–14. For an account of other philological problems with this view, see Jon stewart, “søren Kierkegaard and the Problem of Pseudonymity,” Graduate Faculty Philosophy Journal, vol. 32, 2012, pp. 407–34. 13 SKS 4, 311 / CA, 5. 14 SKS 4, 364n / CA, 59n. see also SKS 4, 328n / CA, 21n. 15 michelle stott, Behind the Mask: Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymic Treatment of Lessing in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. Lewisburg: bucknell university Press; London and toronto: associated university Presses 1993. daniel w. Conway and K.e. gover, “introduction” to Søren Kierkegaard: Critical Assessments of Leading Philosophers, vols. 1–4, ed. by daniel w. Conway and K.e. gover, London: routledge 2002, vol. 1, Authorship and Authenticity: Kierkegaard and His Pseudonyms, pp. 1–4. alain bellaiche-zacharie, “Kierkegaard et Pessoa: pseudonymie et hétéronymie,” Revue des Sciences Philosophiques et Théologiques, vol. 93, 2009, pp. 533–550. stewart, “søren Kierkegaard and the Problem of Pseudonymity.” Philipp schwab, Der Rückstoß der Methode. Kierkegaard und die indirekte Mitteilung, berlin and boston: de gruyter 2012 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, 12

Preface

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the present volume is dedicated to exploring the different pseudonyms and authorial voices in Kierkegaard’s authorship. the working assumption is that there is something unique and special about each pseudonym. the authors have been requested to try to explore the pseudonym in question as a kind of literary figure and to explain what kind of a person is at issue in each of the works and what that tells us about the content that is presented in these works. in this sense this volume serves as a complement to volume 16 of the present series, Kierkegaard’s Literary Figures and Motifs, since pseudonyms are conceived as a special category of literary figure. an attempt has been made to include all of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms and other main voices. this volume thus features articles on a, the aesthete, the author of Part one of Either/Or; a, b, and a.F., the authors of Kierkegaard’s early articles, anti-Climacus, the author of The Sickness unto Death and Practice in Christianity; Constantin Constantius, the author of Repetition; Frater taciturnus, the discoverer of “ ‘guilty’/‘not guilty’ ” from Stages on Life’s Way; H.H., the author of the essays— “does a Human being Have the right to Let Himself be Put to death for the truth?” and “the difference between a genius and an apostle”; Hilarius bookbinder, the editor of Stages on Life’s Way; inter et inter, the author of the article “the Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an actress”; Johannes Climacus, the author of the Philosophical Fragments and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript; Johannes de silentio, the author of Fear and Trembling; Johannes the seducer, the author of “the diary of a seducer” from Either/Or, Part one; Judge william, the author of the long letters in Either/Or, Part two; nicolaus notabene, the author of Prefaces; the mysterious, unnamed one still Living in the title of Kierkegaard’s signed work From the Papers of One Still Living; Petrus minor, the intended author of The Book on Adler; Quidam, the author of the diary that comprises “ ‘guilty’/‘not guilty’?” from Stages on Life’s Way; victor eremita, the editor of Either/Or; vigilius Haufniensis, the author of The Concept of Anxiety; william afham the author of “in vino veritas” from Stages on Life’s Way; and Young Man, the other main figure (along with Constantin Constantius) in Repetition. The hope is that by taking seriously each of these figures as individuals, we will be able to gain new insights into the texts which they are ostensibly responsible for. this is after all the true measure of the importance of the individual pseudonyms. if new insights can be gleaned from this approach, then it will be vindicated. but in the absence of research into the pseudonyms of this kind, the issue of their importance remains an open question. Perhaps the problem with the different approaches to the pseudonyms lies in the fact that they have been rather extreme views. in other words, the claim is either that Kierkegaard’s use of the pseudonyms can be entirely ignored and is in no way relevant for the content of his thought or the opposite opinion that says that careful attention to the pseudonyms is the sine qua non of any meaningful interpretation of Kierkegaard at all. Perhaps a more productive approach lies somewhere in the dialectical middle ground between these two positions. one can certainly acknowledge the importance of the pseudonyms and try to be attentive to them to vol. 25). Joseph westfall, “Pseudonymity,” in Kierkegaard’s Concepts, tome v, Objectivity to Sacrifice, ed. by steven m. emmanuel, william mcdonald and Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2015 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 15), pp. 153–8.

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the extent that this proves useful for one’s interpretation or research project. but there is no reason to insist on this absolutely or to push this to extremes if it turns out that in fact special attention to the pseudonyms is not relevant for the given issue in Kierkegaard that one wishes to treat. the articles in the present volume all work within this middle ground. this collection hopes to create a forum for discussion for an exploration of the pseudonyms that will inspire other authors and provide a useful basis for future research. Katalin nun and Jon stewart

acknowledgments we are grateful to Finn gredal Jensen and Philip Hillyer for doing careful proofreading for this volume and making many useful suggestions. we would also like to thank María Binetti, István Czakó, Finn Gredal Jensen, Heiko Schulz, and Curtis thompson for their valuable comments on the Preface. many thanks also to daniel marrs for his highly useful research assistance.

List of abbreviations Danish Abbreviations B&A

Breve og Aktstykker vedrørende Søren Kierkegaard, vols. 1–2, ed. by niels thulstrup, Copenhagen: munksgaard 1953–54.

Bl.art.

S. Kierkegaard’s Bladartikler, med Bilag samlede efter Forfatterens Død, udgivne som Supplement til hans øvrige Skrifter, ed. by rasmus nielsen, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1857.

EP

Af Søren Kierkegaards Efterladte Papirer, vols. 1–9, ed. by H.P. barfod and Hermann gottsched, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1869–81.

Pap.

Søren Kierkegaards Papirer, vols. i to Xi–3, ed. by Peter andreas Heiberg, victor Kuhr and einer torsting, Copenhagen: gyldendalske boghandel, nordisk Forlag, 1909–48; second, expanded ed., vols. i to Xi–3, by niels thulstrup, vols. Xii to Xiii supplementary volumes, ed. by niels thulstrup, vols. Xiv to Xvi index by niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Copenhagen: gyldendal 1968–78.

SKS

Søren Kierkegaards Skrifter, vols. 1–28, vols. K1-K28, ed. by niels Jørgen Cappelørn, Joakim garff, Jette Knudsen, Johnny Kondrup, alastair mcKinnon and Finn Hauberg mortensen, Copenhagen: gads Forlag 1997– 2013.

SV1

Samlede Værker, vols. i–Xiv, ed. by a.b. drachmann, Johan Ludvig Heiberg and H.o. Lange, Copenhagen: gyldendalske boghandels Forlag 1901–06. English Abbreviations

AN

Armed Neutrality, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1998.

AR

On Authority and Revelation, The Book on Adler, trans. by walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1955.

ASKB

The Auctioneer’s Sales Record of the Library of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by H.P. rohde, Copenhagen: the royal Library 1967.

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BA

The Book on Adler, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1998.

C

The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1997.

CA

The Concept of Anxiety, trans. by reidar thomte in collaboration with albert b. anderson, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1980.

CD

Christian Discourses, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1997.

CI

The Concept of Irony, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1989.

CIC

The Concept of Irony, trans. with an introduction and notes by Lee m. Capel, London: Collins 1966.

COR

The Corsair Affair; Articles Related to the Writings, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1982.

CUP1

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, vol. 1, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1992.

CUP2

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, vol. 2, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1992.

CUPH Concluding Unscientific Postscript, trans. by alastair Hannay, Cambridge and new york: Cambridge university Press 2009. EO1

Either/Or, Part i, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1987.

EO2

Either/Or, Part ii, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1987.

EOP

Either/Or, trans. by alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: Penguin books 1992.

EPW

Early Polemical Writings, including From the Papers of One Still Living; Articles from Student Days; The Battle Between the Old and the New SoapCellars, trans. by Julia watkin, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1990.

EUD

Eighteen Upbuilding Discourses, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1990.

List of Abbreviations

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FSE

For Self-Examination, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1990.

FT

Fear and Trembling, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1983.

FTP

Fear and Trembling, trans. by alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: Penguin books 1985.

JC

Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985.

JFY

Judge for Yourself!, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1990.

JP

Søren Kierkegaard’s Journals and Papers, vols. 1–6, ed. and trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, assisted by gregor malantschuk (vol. 7, index and Composite Collation), bloomington and London: indiana university Press 1967–78.

KAC

Kierkegaard’s Attack upon “Christendom,” 1854–1855, trans. by walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1944.

KJN

Kierkegaard’s Journals and Notebooks, vols. 1–11, ed. by niels Jørgen Cappelørn, alastair Hannay, david Kangas, bruce H. Kirmmse, george Pattison, vanessa rumble, and K. brian söderquist, Princeton and oxford: Princeton university Press 2007ff.

LD

Letters and Documents, trans. by Henrik rosenmeier, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1978.

LR

A Literary Review, trans. by alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: Penguin books 2001.

M

The Moment and Late Writings, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1998.

P

Prefaces / Writing Sampler, trans. by todd w. nichol, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1997.

PC

Practice in Christianity, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1991.

PF

Philosophical Fragments, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985.

xxii

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

PJ

Papers and Journals: A Selection, trans. by alastair Hannay, Harmondsworth: Penguin books 1996.

PLR

Prefaces: Light Reading for Certain Classes as the Occasion May Require, trans. by william mcdonald, tallahassee: Florida state university Press 1989.

PLS

Concluding Unscientific Postscript, trans. by david F. swenson and walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1941.

PV

The Point of View including On My Work as an Author, The Point of View for My Work as an Author, and Armed Neutrality, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1998.

PVL

The Point of View for My Work as an Author including On My Work as an Author, trans. by walter Lowrie, new york and London: oxford university Press 1939.

R

Repetition, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1983.

SBL

Notes of Schelling’s Berlin Lectures, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1989.

SLW

Stages on Life’s Way, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1988.

SUD

The Sickness unto Death, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1980.

SUDP

The Sickness unto Death, trans. by alastair Hannay, London and new york: Penguin books 1989.

TA

Two Ages: The Age of Revolution and the Present Age. A Literary Review, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1978.

TD

Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1993.

UD

Upbuilding Discourses in Various Spirits, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1993.

WA

Without Authority including The Lily in the Field and the Bird of the Air, Two Ethical-Religious Essays, Three Discourses at the Communion on Fridays, An Upbuilding Discourse, Two Discourses at the Communion

List of Abbreviations

xxiii

on Fridays, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1997. WL

Works of Love, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1995.

WS

Writing Sampler, trans. by todd w. nichol, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1997.

“a” the aesthete: aestheticism and the Limits of Philosophy ryan Kemp

Kierkegaard’s Either/Or showcases two competing life views: a life of aesthetic pleasure on the one hand, and a life of ethical commitment on the other. each view is represented by a pseudonym and the “papers” of the pseudonyms are juxtaposed in two parts. Part one features an anonymous aesthetic character referred to simply as “A.” While A plays a key role in defining the general features of Kierkegaard’s “aesthetic stage,” his importance lies less in outlining the boundaries of aestheticism than in presenting the view in its full force. Far from being a clumsy pseudonymous front, a’s aestheticism is meant to represent a serious challenge to any would-be defender of the ethical life, not the least his pseudonymous counterpart “Judge william.” despite a’s sophistication, many readers of Either/Or have taken it for granted that, of the two pseudonyms, Judge william presents the better case.1 it is assumed that william successfully reveals both (1) the internal inconsistency of a’s governing practical assumptions and (2) how those governing assumptions are satisfied only in the ethical life. in doing this, Judge william sketches a dialectical “bridge” that permits A to recognize the ethical life as a fulfillment of practical principles he already endorses.2 thanks to John davenport, Fred rush, Jon stewart, and walter wietzke for feedback on earlier drafts of the article. 1 see, for example, anthony rudd, “reason in ethics revisited: Either/Or, ‘Criterionless Choice’ and narrative unity,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2008, pp. 178–99; John J. davenport, “the meaning of Kierkegaard’s Choice between the aesthetic and the ethical: a response to macintyre,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John J. davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 75–113; and michelle Kosch, Freedom and Reason in Kant, Schelling, and Kierkegaard, new york: oxford university Press 2006, pp. 147–52. 2 a commendable example of this style of interpretation can be found in m. Jamie Ferreira’s Transforming Vision. in her attempt to explain Kierkegaard’s concept of a “pathosfilled transition,” Ferreira argues that we should look to Aristotle’s notion of an “enthymeme.” an enthymeme is a syllogism that attempts to convince an audience of a conclusion by showing how an opinion they already hold entails the conclusion in question. while Kierkegaard’s journals do suggest that he found aristotle’s notion of an enthymeme to be a helpful model for understanding his own notion of transition, Ferreira is, i think, mistaken about the sense in which the concept is instructive. if you look at the broader context of the journals’ discussion

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in this article, i call into question the above story by drawing attention to the extraordinary ingenuity of a’s aestheticism. against Judge william, i suggest that the ethical stage’s dialectic fails to address a’s more sophisticated practical presuppositions.3 The Judge’s failure is a product not just of A’s reflective cunning, but the rules of engagement that the former is forced to play by, rules internal to ethics itself. because modern ethics is conditioned by a demand for normative transparency,4 any potential justification of the ethical life requires that an agent can (at least in principle) recognize its authority for himself.5 This is a justificatory burden that william implicitly recognizes and—ultimately—cannot meet. despite this failure, one might think that a kind of “ethical” life may still be better than an aesthetic life. For this reason, i conclude by suggesting that a’s real need is not an ethical “midwife” who can coax out the implicit ethical assumptions already present in his practical framework, but a “seducer,” someone who can “impregnate” a with new reasons. though such a “conversion” would not be rational in the sense that modern ethics requires, i argue that it is the only kind of transition possible for a.

of the “leap,” it is apparent that Kierkegaard is interested in the enthymeme’s status as a subjective appeal. He commends aristotle and others for noticing that “the ultimate can be reached only as limit” (SKS 18, 225, JJ:266 / JP 3, 2341). For Ferreira’s discussion see Transforming Vision, oxford: oxford university Press 1991, pp. 45–7. 3 though, in this respect, i will be defending a conclusion that many contemporary Kierkegaard scholars consider mistaken, my thesis is not without its proponents, most recently John Lippitt, alasdair macintyre, and Fred rush. my reading of Either/Or is crucially indebted to each, especially MacIntyre’s modified view developed in his essay “Once more on Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre, pp. 339–55. For Lippitt see John Lippitt, “getting the story straight: Kierkegaard, macintyre and some Problems with narrative,” Inquiry, vol. 50, no. 1, 2007, pp. 34–69. Fred Rush’s influence has been exercised through many valuable conversations. i should also make clear that my interpretation of Either/Or has, in the last several years, undergone a significant transformation. I once placed more faith in the power of Judge william’s dialectic. see ryan Kemp, “making sense of the ethical stage: revisiting Kierkegaard’s aesthetic-to-ethical transition,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2011, pp. 49–70. 4 the “peculiar institution” inherited from enlightenment giants like rousseau, Kant, and Hegel. For an analysis of ethics understood in this sense see bernard williams, Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy, Cambridge, massachusetts: Harvard university Press 1985, pp. 174–96 and raymond guess, “outside ethics,” in Outside Ethics, ed. by raymond guess, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, pp. 40–66. 5 of course, what it means to “recognize” is incredibly important to the analysis. though i develop this point later, i should say here that my view is that even when the conditions are very weak (for instance, that a person recognizes the authority of a norm under conditions of reflective equilibrium or after having undergone cognitive psychotherapy), a still does not “recognize” the ethical life as valid for him. Here, i disagree with Lippitt who thinks the debate properly concerns what is compelling to the aesthete in his current, perhaps self-deceived, state. against Lippitt, i think the more interesting question concerns whether a actually has a reason to be ethical given his current set of desires. effectively motivating (or “compelling”) a potentially irrational person to act on reasons he, in fact, has is an entirely different matter. see Lippitt, “getting the story straight,” p. 60.

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while the debate concerning whether or not a has a reason to be ethical may seem peripheral to the larger concerns of this volume (namely, introducing readers to Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms), i take a’s relationship to the ethical stage to be essential for understanding a more generally. determining a’s relationship to the ethical stage amounts to nothing less than determining whether a’s life view is rationally sustainable. on the way to answering this more foundational question, i make a few more specific, but nonetheless important, claims about A. I argue (1) that his reflective aestheticism is fully equipped to achieve the aim of aestheticism (namely, enjoyment), (2) that he does not see his life as one of despair, and (3) that the fact that there is no reason to be ethical shows (perhaps counterintuitively) that, if given a choice between aestheticism and ethics, one actually has a reason to be aesthetic.6 my discussion has four sections. in section i, i offer both a general sketch of Kierkegaard’s aesthetic stage and a specific sketch of A’s particular brand of aestheticism. After tracing the finer details of A’s position, I move on in Section II to present what i call the “internalist burden” of modern ethics. Here i show how Judge william’s notion of ethical normativity demands that he can justify the ethical life by showing how its basic commitments satisfy desires a already endorses. establishing that Judge william is committed to a form of “reasons internalism” is important, because it makes clear that a person like a does not have a reason to be ethical unless he also has an antecedent interest in being ethical. next, in section iiii, i examine both what Kierkegaard means by “despair” and what it would take for a to realize that his own life view is subject to it. Insofar as A’s reflective aestheticism sufficiently insulates him from coming to understand his despair as such, I argue that he does not have an all-things-considered reason to be ethical. Finally, in section iv, i suggest that if the Judge (or anyone else) hopes to convert a, he would do well to employ a touch of seduction. of course, admitting a need for seduction is just to admit that the modern ethical project is, by its own standards, untenable. it is, in its own way, aesthetic. I. A and his Aestheticism my task in this section is to provide a sketch of the hero of Either/Or, Part one—a. with this end in mind, i begin with a general outline of the aesthetic stage and then narrow my focus to a’s particular species of aestheticism, what a and Judge william call “reflective aestheticism.” if the aesthetic stage can be reduced to any single normative commitment, it is the following: pursue pleasure at all costs.7 this rather simple commitment, however, this follows from the fact that ethics presupposes an ability to self-justify. if it fails in this regard, there can be no reason to be ethical because there is nothing that answers to the name. 7 though this is how the aesthetic stage is commonly interpreted (see, for example, thomas miles, Kierkegaard and Nietzsche on the Best Way of Life, new york: Palgrave macmillan 2013, p. 14; merold westphal, Becoming a Self, west Lafayette: Purdue university Press 1996, p. 22; and John Caputo, How to Read Kierkegaard, London: granta books 2007, p. 23), michelle Kosch has argued that the aesthetic stage should be understood in terms of 6

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threatens to mask aestheticism’s remarkable complexity, for—as any self-respecting hedonist knows—pleasure comes in many varieties. in the interest of space and relevance, my analysis will be limited to just two varieties, what a calls enjoyment’s “first” and “second” forms. In his introductory remarks to the “Seducer’s Diary,” A explains: [Poetic reflection] was the second enjoyment, and [Johannes’] whole life was intended for enjoyment. In the first case, he personally enjoyed the esthetic; in the second case, he esthetically enjoyed his personality. The point in the first case was he egotistically enjoyed personally that which in part actuality has given to him…[I]n the second case, his personality was volatilized, and he then enjoyed the situation and himself in the situation. In the first case, he continually needed actuality as the occasion, as an element; in the second case, actuality was drowned in the poetic.8

The form of enjoyment A refers to as “first” is elsewhere associated with “immediacy.” this form of pleasure is immediate in two senses. First, it is directly grounded in sense experience, for example, the feeling one gets when tasting something sweet as opposed, say, to the feeling one gets when recollecting (or imagining) the experience of tasting something sweet. while the distinction between pleasure grounded in sensory experience and pleasure grounded in a mere idea is imprecise (especially the sense in which the former is supposed to be “directly” caused by sensation), the distinction attempts to express an established intuition: the person who lives a life of reflective enjoyment is—unlike his immediate counterpart—a person who “lives entirely in his head.” As A puts it, the reflective aesthete drowns actuality in the poetic. The second sense of “immediate” is a refinement of the first: immediate enjoyment is non-self-referential. by way of example, consider the pleasures associated with being in love. i can, on the one hand, simply and immediately enjoy all the idiosyncrasies of the beloved—the way the beloved’s face looks under the light of the moon, the beloved’s charming wit, and so on. on the other hand, i can enjoy the idea of being in love. The object of this second, more reflective, pleasure is the thought that I find myself in such-and-such a situation. Like the person who its denial of free will (Kosch, Freedom and Reason, pp. 147–52). while i think it is a mistake to suggest that the aesthetic life is necessarily marked by such a denial, Kosch is right to think that aestheticism can be understood with respect to its account of freedom. this follows from the fact that a life arranged around the pursuit of pleasure can also be understood as a life governed by a particular conception of volitional activity. in the introduction to the Philosophy of Right, Hegel offers an account of “the immediate or natural will” as one that is concerned with desire satisfaction (g.w.F. Hegel, Elements of the Philosophy of Right, ed. by allen wood, trans. by H.b. nisbet, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1991, p. 45). under this construal of the will, desire satisfaction counts as a kind of freedom. the same goes for Kierkegaard’s aesthetic stage. though aestheticism is typically understood as a life centered around enjoyment, it can just as easily be understood as a life governed by a particular conception of agency. this helps to explain why Judge william provides a with two distinct arguments for the superiority of the ethical stage. The first addresses aestheticism qua life of enjoyment, the second addresses aestheticism qua theory of agency. i address this in more detail in the section ii of the article. 8 SKS 2, 295 / EO1, 305.

“A” the Aesthete

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lives in his imagination, the person who limits himself to this kind of second-order pleasure possesses only a tenuous relation to actuality.9 To distinguish better between immediate and reflective enjoyment A offers a series of character profiles. The exemplar of aesthetic immediacy is Mozart’s Don Giovanni. The first thing to notice about Don Giovanni is that his desire is “sensual”: he is the “incarnation of the flesh.”10 while don giovanni likely employs several reflective categories (presumably the concept “female”), he otherwise avoids reflection. A even tells us that, technically speaking, Don Giovanni is not a seducer, insofar as the latter possesses “the power of words.”11 in contrast to his wordy byronic counterpart, don giovanni is a sheer force of nature: he sees and he possesses.12 His enjoyment lies neither in pursuit (something reserved for those with less erotic prowess) nor in the recollection of past triumphs, but the immediate gratification of sensible desire. additionally, don giovanni’s pleasure is unself-conscious: his pleasure is not grounded in a conception of himself as a “lover” or a “seducer.” Qua force of nature—one “whose history one cannot learn except by listening to the noise of the waves”13—Don Giovanni does not achieve the reflective distance required for this kind of self-referential pleasure. so while Leporello (don giovanni’s servant and “accountant”) may feverishly note his employer’s conquests, don giovanni’s own reputation is, for him, beside the point. in contrast to don giovanni and the immediate erotic, a’s most developed portrayal of reflective aestheticism is found in the “Seducer’s Diary.” The Diary contains the self-reports of a certain “Johannes” who models a method of aesthetic cultivation that a calls “crop rotation.” since familiarity with the crop rotation method is essential to understanding both A and reflective aestheticism, I will outline its commitments before returning to the “seducer’s diary.” Crop rotation develops out of crisis: pleasure depends on novelty,14 and novelty is a finite resource. In response to this challenge, an especially industrious aesthete varies his landscape. He travels, dates around, tries new restaurants, and tries his hand at basket weaving. the problem with this extensive strategy is that its returns quickly diminish; even an aesthete with the resources of nero will eventually struggle to keep things new. what the aesthete needs is a more sophisticated method, namely, an intensive one. instead of casting one’s lot with the external world, the aesthete 9 Johannes the seducer puts the contrast between the two forms of enjoyment nicely when he writes, “How beautiful it is to be in love; how interesting it is to know that one is in love” (SKS 2, 323 / EO1, 334). The immediate Don Giovanni seeks beauty; the reflective Johannes seeks the interesting. 10 SKS 2, 93 / EO1, 88. 11 SKS 2, 103 / EO1, 99. 12 SKS 2, 100–101 / EO1, 96. 13 SKS 2, 97 / EO1, 92. 14 Thus, the relevance of A’s discourse on “first love” and Don Giovanni’s enviable ability to experience each love as though it were his first. Don Giovanni avoids staleness by literally being ahistorical. as an imaginative representation of the erotic, he has no past. the reflective aesthete’s goal is to approximate Don Giovanni’s sense of newness in the midst of a historical existence.

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must learn to use actuality as a “sounding board” (Resonansbund)15 for the rich and boundless world of inner experience. the key to this venture—what a calls playing “shuttlecock with all existence”16—is learning to limit one’s environment, a largescale editorial project that requires a deft application of two skills: “recollection” and “forgetfulness.” of these two skills, a writes: “the more poetically one remembers, the more easily one forgets, for to remember poetically is actually only an expression for forgetting. when i remember poetically, my experience has already undergone the change of having lost everything painful.”17 recollection and forgetfulness complement one another. a skilled aesthete reshapes his experience by forgetting aspects that are painful or uninteresting. these creative fantasies are then called to mind so that the aesthete can continuously relive (and live in) them.18 Johannes the seducer models the intensive method’s principle of limitation.19 in concert with a’s recommendations, Johannes employs recollection and forgetfulness in order to construct an image that can “refresh” his otherwise restless soul.20 the shape of the beloved’s foot, the color of her cloak, the sound of her voice, these are all elements that Johannes frames neatly in his story. the intensity of Johannes’ method is symbolized in the chastity of his affair—it is never his intention to consummate, at least in any straightforward physical sense. the whole affair is concocted with an eye toward its place in Johannes’ larger fiction. The “Diary” is thus no ordinary historical chronicle; it takes the place of the lover as the primary object of enjoyment. Johannes feeds his desire on the little bits of the beloved that are worthy of his scrapbook. Of the two aesthetic categories—immediate and reflective—A resides in the latter. not only does Judge william recognize him as such, a’s “diapsalmata” (a collection of aphorisms that express a’s own practical outlook) make plain that his life is centered around enjoyment and that immediate enjoyment is, in itself, insufficient. Consider the following reflections that trace A’s views on (1) the fate of erotic (or immediate) pleasure, (2) the suggestion that immediate pleasure must be transformed, and finally (3) the means by which it is transformed through recollection. a writes: [1] Girls do not appeal to me. Their beauty passes away like a dream and like yesterday when it is past. their faithfulness—yes, their faithfulness! either they are faithless—this does not concern me anymore—or they are faithful. if i found such a one, she would appeal to me from the standpoint of her being a rarity; but from the standpoint of a long period of time she would not appeal to me, for either she would continually remain faithful, and then I would become a sacrifice to my eagerness for experience, since I would have to bear with her, or the time would come when she would lapse, and then i would have the same story.21 SKS 2, 283 / EO1, 294. ibid. 17 SKS 2, 282 / EO1, 293. 18 SKS 2, 284 / EO1, 295: “in this way, forgetting and recollecting are identical, and the artistically achieved identity is the archimedean point with which one lifts the whole world.” 19 SKS 2, 315 / EO1, 325. 20 SKS 2, 314 / EO1, 324. 21 SKS 2, 38 / EO1, 29. 15 16

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[2] If erotic love is to have any meaning, in its hour of birth it must be shone upon by the moon, just as apis, in order to be the true apis, must have been shown upon by the moon. the cow that gave birth to apis is said to have been shone upon by the moon in the moment of conception.22 [3] To live in recollection is the most perfect life imaginable; recollection is more richly satisfying than all actuality, and it has a security that no actuality possesses. a recollected life relationship has already passed into eternity and has no temporal interest anymore.23

While this story arc ([1] disillusionment with immediate enjoyment to [2] the foundation of a new method to [3] aesthetic bliss) should by now be familiar, there is one aspect of a’s aestheticism that the above analysis does not bring out: a sees his life as one of sorrow (Sorg) and melancholy (Tungsind).24 this revelation will play an important part in determining a’s relationship to the ethical stage and is thus something i analyze in more detail in section iii of the article. For now though, i turn to examine Kierkegaard’s account of practical reason. before we can judge the rational stability of a’s aestheticism, we need to make clear what it would it mean— ex hypothesi—to present a with a “reason” to be ethical.25 II. Modern Ethics’ Internalist Burden broadly speaking, there are two contemporary views about what constitutes a practical reason. The first, reasons internalism, claims that a reason to φ always depends on motivational facts about an agent, whether it is something as strong as being effectively motivated to φ or as weak as possessing a mere desire to φ. In contrast, reasons externalism denies that reasons have any necessary relationship to motivational facts; an agent can have a reason to φ without being motivated— whether actually or counterfactually—to φ. In this section of the article, I argue that Judge william follows his philosophic contemporaries in adopting an internalist account of reasons. i begin by suggesting that Hegel’s dialectical method is designed to meet certain characteristically internalist desiderata,26 and then move on to show how Judge william adopts the same method for similar reasons.27 SKS 2, 37 / EO1, 28. SKS 2, 41 / EO1, 32. 24 interestingly, he never acknowledges that his life is one of “despair” (Fortvivlelse). 25 This section has benefitted from conversations with Fred Rush. 26 though my account begins with Hegel, internalism’s inception can be traced at least as far back as descartes’ Meditations where the truth aptness of “clear and distinct” ideas permit the lone meditator to call into question the authority of any would-be metaphysical or scientific framework. Rousseau is among the first to take Descartes’ internalist revolution seriously at the practical level and Kant is responsible for translating rousseau’s internalist intuitions into a systematic ethical theory. 27 though my argument concerns what we can infer about the Judge’s view of reasons given the structure of his appeal, walter wietzke has recently argued that Kierkegaard’s notion of “the single individual” provides support for reading Kierkegaard more generally as a reason’s internalist. see walter wietzke, “the single individual and the normative Question,” The European Legacy, vol. 18, no. 7, 2013, pp. 896–911. 22 23

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A. Hegel’s Internalism michael Forster argues that Hegel’s method has three distinct philosophical functions: (1) a pedagogical function, (2) an epistemological function, and (3) a scientific function. One of the method’s epistemological functions is to show how the Hegelian system is provable from the viewpoint of any other philosophical position. Forster explains: Hegel constructs [a] dialectical “ladder” in such a way that, having run through and discredited all non-Hegelian viewpoints, it eventually reaches the stable, self-consistent viewpoint of the Hegelian system. Hence each viewpoint can, by climbing onto the ladder and seeing where its own commitments lead, come to recognize its own (and indeed every viewpoint’s) implicit commitment to the truth of Hegel’s system.28

while it would perhaps be foolhardy to try and tease an internalist account of reasons out of the method’s epistemological function, it seems clear that the motivation for Hegel’s method has much in common with the motivation that lies behind reasons internalism. Just as Hegel thinks that establishing the superiority of his own philosophical outlook requires that he be able to demonstrate how it is entailed by all other outlooks, the reasons internalist thinks that the normative legitimacy of any putative reason to act is dependent on being able to establish a positive link between the action in question and an agent’s motivational set (his beliefs, desires, and dispositions).29 Like the internalist, Hegel thinks that normativity (construed as Wissenschaft) depends on an ability to establish this kind of link. B. Judge William’s Internalist Appeals Like Hegel, the Judge appreciates that his appeal to a must literally appeal to a. in his second letter, “the balance between the esthetic and the ethical,” Judge william writes, “if a person fears transparency, he always avoids the ethical, because the ethical really does not want anything else.”30 several pages later the Judge elaborates: The primary difference [between an ethical and an esthetic individual]…is that the ethical individual is transparent to himself….this difference encompasses everything. the person who lives ethically has seen himself, knows himself, penetrates his whole concretion with his consciousness….the ethical individual knows himself, but this knowing is not simply contemplation….it is a collecting of oneself, which itself is an action, and this is why i have with aforethought used the expression “to choose oneself” instead of “to know oneself.”31 michael Forster, “Hegel’s dialectical method,” in The Cambridge Companion to Hegel, ed. by Frederick beiser, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1993, p. 137. 29 the notion of a “motivational set” is developed by bernard williams in his essay “internal and external reasons,” in his Moral Luck, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 192, pp. 101–13. by “motivational set” williams just means the sum total of an agent’s desires and dispositions. 30 SKS 3, 242 / EO2, 253–4. 31 SKS 3, 246 / EO2, 258. 28

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by making the “primary difference” between the aesthetic and ethical spheres a matter of transparency, the Judge hints that the transition from one stage to the other is just a matter of drawing out already present aspects of a’s motivational set. if a can finally come to see the situation as it is, he will be able to appreciate that what he really desires is an ethical life. in the Judge’s two letters to a, we see this tactic played out in two ways. I will outline the Judge’s first argument in some detail and then, more briefly, suggest the way in which the second possesses a similar structure. In his first letter, “The Esthetic Validity of Marriage,” Judge William argues that, “all the beauty implicit in the erotic of paganism has its validity in Christianity insofar as it can be combined with marriage.”32 This is significant for A, since erotic love is intended to represent a’s principle normative commitment (to seek pleasure). thus, if the Judge can show that erotic love (construed as enjoyment) has its validity in Christian marriage (the ethical relationship par excellence), he will have demonstrated how A’s guiding normative principle is, in fact, satisfied by the ethical stage. the Judge begins with an analysis of romantic love: “romantic love manifests itself as immediate by exclusively resting in natural necessity. it is based on beauty.”33 romantic love rests in natural necessity because it depends on aspects of the beloved that he or she has no control over, aspects of a person that Kant associates with gifts of skill and fortune. in addition to being grounded in the “sensuous,” romantic love aims at continuity. the Judge writes: “the lovers are deeply convinced that in itself their relationship is a complete whole that will never be changed.”34 this combination of ground (accidental beauty) and self-conception (immutability) proves fatal for the erotic, leading to (what Hegel would have called) the “negativity” of romantic love. william explains, “the lovers are deeply convinced that in itself their relationship is a complete whole that will never be changed. but since this conviction is substantiated only by a natural determinant, the eternal is based on the temporal and thereby cancels itself.”35 Having been “canceled,” romantic love turns to its opposite, what William calls “reflective love.” Though reflective love manifests itself in a couple ways, it is best illustrated in the “marriage of convenience.” by grounding love in nothing more than an act of will—a pact invulnerable to the winds of chance—reflective love attempts to satisfy love’s immutability condition. However, despite its best effort, the Judge regards reflective love’s prudence as evidence of its implicit dependence on the temporal. He writes: “[Reflective love is] daunted by a pedestrian commonsensical view that one ought to be cautious….Consequently, the eternal, which, as already indicated above, belongs to every marriage, is not really present here, for a commonsensical calculation is always temporal.”36 Thus, it turns out that reflective love, like its erotic counterpart, fails to live up to its self-conception as an eternal pact.

32 33 34 35 36

SKS 3, 20 / EO2, 10. SKS 3, 29 / EO2, 21. SKS 3, 30 / EO2, 21. ibid. SKS 3, 35 / EO2, 27.

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In response to the “negativity” of romantic and reflective love, the Judge proposes Christian marriage as a synthesis of the two. though the brunt of Judge william’s lengthy letter is devoted to making good on this claim, he offers the following precis of the project: Therefore, inasmuch as in the foregoing I have indicated romantic love and reflective love as confrontational positions, it will be clearly apparent here to what extent the higher unity is a return to the immediate, to what extent this contains, in addition to the something more that it contains, that which was implicit in the first…[I]t is clear that [reflective love] points beyond itself to something higher, but the point is whether this something higher cannot promptly enter into combination with the first love. This something higher is the religious [true marriage].37

The Judge is prepared to argue that romantic and reflective love (though inadequate in isolation) are synthesized in the ethical stage in such a way that the one-sidedness of each is compensated for by the other. this means, among other things, that a’s principle of pleasure finds its completion in the ethical life. The Judge’s second argument repeats the structure of the first. The Judge begins with a premise purportedly accepted by a and then shows how that premise presupposes ethical content. the difference between argument one and argument two, is that the second, instead of beginning with aesthetic enjoyment, begins with the structure of aesthetic agency. though the Judge’s two arguments are for this reason genuinely distinct, we should read both of them as targeting the same principle. a’s commitment to enjoyment can just as easily be construed as a commitment to an account of agency, for instance, freedom as desire-satisfaction. this, in fact, is the way Hegel describes what he calls the “immediate or natural will.”38 because the Judge borrows from the account in his argument to A, it will be beneficial to quickly sketch Hegel’s analysis.39 in the introduction to the Philosophy of Right, Hegel identifies three progressively sophisticated accounts of the will: (1) the immediate will, (2) the arbitrary will, and (3) the cultivated will. the immediate will (§§ 8–9) is distinguished by its object of desire. it is free when it gets what it wants: it eats the sandwich; it drinks the beer (maybe even does both). the problem for such a will is that it cannot adequately explain a resolution to act in cases where the specific object of desire and/or the means to satisfying it are underdetermined (§§ 11–14). what the immediate will needs and lacks is an agent over and above its desires, a will that can “resolve” such dilemma’s through choice. Hegel calls this will the “arbitrary will” (Willkür). unlike its immediate predecessor, the arbitrary will (§§ 15–18) is capable of spontaneously endorsing any of its desires, organizing a multiplicity of drives and inclinations in a single unified choice. Despite this advantage, Willkür too possesses its own negativity. insofar as the desires it endorses are simply given (that is, elements of SKS 3, 38 / EO2, 30. Hegel, Elements of the Philosophy of Right, p. 45. 39 Jon stewart draws attention to the “Hegelian” structure of the Judge’s two arguments in his analysis of Either/Or. see Jon stewart, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 182–225. 37 38

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the agent’s psychology that the agent exercises no ownership over), the agent is still insufficiently free (§ 16); instead of loving what he chooses, he feels either indifferent or duty bound to the objects of his choice. Hegel’s answer is the “purification of the drives,” the “cultivation” of one’s natural drives through rational education (§§ 19–21). This final conception of the will involves coming to see one’s particular desires and social roles as truly one’s own. For such a will, duty and inclination finally coincide. Because Judge William identifies aestheticism with the immediate will, he rehearses the same basic Hegelian progression for A. He first informs A that, “The esthetic choice is altogether immediate, and thus no choice…it loses itself in a great multiplicity.”40 He then claims that ethics introduces choice: “[T]he ethical constitutes the choice. therefore, it is not so much a matter of choosing between willing good or willing evil as of choosing to will.”41 And, finally, he suggests how the onesidedness of ethical choice (Kant’s Moralität) is balanced by the rational cultivation of the passions.42 in these three steps, the Judge retraces Hegel’s argument. Like the argument from the first letter, if this second argument is sound, then the Judge will have shown how a’s own practical assumptions entail the rational superiority of the ethical life. Having now examined both the general practical commitments of a and the mechanics of the Judge’s internal appeal, we are finally in a position to evaluate whether A’s practical commitments really do find their rational culmination in ethics. the answer to this question involves a careful analysis of a’s relationship to his own despair. III. The Implication of A’s Despair as we saw in the previous section, implicit to Judge william’s internalist appeal is the assumption that a is self-deceived—deep down he knows aestheticism is misguided and desires to be ethical.43 since Kierkegaard does think that human beings have a proper telos (Christianity), and that living contrary to that telos involves a kind of despair, we should explore whether the condition of being in despair entails that an agent is also self-deceived. the answer to this question is central to our evaluation of a’s relationship to ethics. if a knows his life view is one of despair, he is all the more likely to appreciate the superiority of the ethical stage.

SKS 3, 163 / EO2, 167. SKS 3, 165 / EO2, 169. 42 william writes: “but the person who chooses himself ethically chooses himself concretely as this specific individual….The individual, then, becomes conscious as this specific individual with these capacities, these inclinations, these drives, these passions, influenced by this specific social milieu, as this specific product of a specific environment” (SKS 3, 239 / EO2, 251). 43 Consider, for instance, the Judge’s hope that a become “transparent” to himself. 40 41

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A. Coming to Know that One is in Despair in The Sickness unto Death, Kierkegaard defines the human self as a relation of opposing dialectical pairs: the eternal and the temporal, the finite and the infinite, and freedom and necessity.44 despair, in turn, is described as a state of being in misrelation to oneself.45 when a person gives preference to one side of a dialectical pair to the exclusion of the other (for example, finitude to the exclusion of infinitude), he is in despair.46 while it is safe to say that a exists in a state of mis-relation,47 it is less clear whether he knows this about himself. In order to determine this, we first need to distinguish between two relevant senses of “knowledge” and clarify what the content of such knowledge might be. With respect to the first point, A might know that he is in despair in two distinct senses, either consciously or unconsciously. with respect to the second point—the issue concerning the relevant content of a’s knowledge—it seems that knowledge of despair will require that a both believe that he is a relational self (in Kierkegaard’s special sense) and that his aestheticism involves a mis-relation. this second condition is crucial because we can imagine a person who accepts the first condition without acknowledging that his self-relation is mistaken. such a person might, for instance, think that the best kind of self is one that emphasizes possibility to the exclusion of necessity, and thus would not see his particular manifestation of despair as a lamentable condition. B. Is A Consciously Aware of his Despair? The first step in deciding whether A consciously knows that he is in despair is to determine whether he accepts Kierkegaard’s relational view of the self. since a’s reflective aestheticism is conditioned upon an explicit acceptance that infinitude (a self’s capacity to abstract away from its historical identity) should take priority over finitude (a self’s historical identity),48 a appears to have some sense that he is a selfrelating being. If we grant that A satisfies this first condition, we can turn to consider whether he satisfies the second: whether he takes his particular self-relation to be problematic. there are two ways a might come to think this: he may either accept a metaphysical picture (for instance, Christianity) that dictates that his current selfrelation is misguided or he may acknowledge that his current self-relation is in some way practically inconsistent. Though the first possibility seems unlikely, the second merits a closer look, especially since it suggests a parallel to Hegel’s understanding of “despair” in the Phenomenology of Spirit. SKS 11, 129 / SUD, 13. SKS 11, 131 / SUD, 15. 46 Later in the article i address more of the explicitly theological elements of despair, including its status as sin and its relationship to faith. 47 in Part two of The Sickness unto Death, Kierkegaard makes it clear that anyone who exists outside of “faith” is in despair. 48 Explicit in the sense that A—in his premeditated alienation of finitude (crop rotation)—openly acknowledges his finitude. 44 45

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in our earlier discussion (in section ii, a), we noted that Hegel’s dialectic is designed to satisfy an important epistemological function: it makes explicit how Hegel’s position follows from the presuppositions of any other philosophical point of view. However, before a positive movement up the “ladder” can occur, all competing views must first be exposed as internally inconsistent, that is, incapable of explaining or achieving whatever it is they explicitly take themselves to explain or achieve. in the Phenomenology of Spirit, Hegel refers to the various breakdowns that eventually lead spirit to “absolute knowledge” as spirit’s “way of despair” (Weg der Verzweiflung).49 This is significant because it suggests a way to understand how a person in a’s position might come to recognize the folly of his life view. if a comes to see that his aesthetic aims depend upon presuppositions that aestheticism cannot account for, then this will be tantamount to acknowledging despair.50 interestingly, a seems to think the opposite. He believes that his aestheticism is equipped to avoid the inconsistencies that threaten more immediate aesthetes. if we grant Judge william’s analysis of erotic love (discussed in section ii, C)—that built into the very notion of desiring is a longing for continuity—immediate aestheticism’s “negativity” is apparent. the immediate aesthete is incapable of ensuring the continuity of pleasure because the satisfaction of his desire is dependent upon conditions outside of his control.51 in response to this problem, a takes himself to have designed a method of aesthetic cultivation that safeguards against contingency. when a person masters an intensive method of “rotation,” he lays claim to an infinite source of pleasure that is both “richly satisfying” and “secure.”52 g.w.F. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit, trans. by a.v. miller, oxford: Clarendon Press 1977, p. 49. 50 The Judge seems to confirm a similar litmus test in considering the sustainability of aesthetic lifestyles. He writes: “But the person who says that he wants to enjoy life always posits a condition that either lies outside the individual or is within the individual in such a way that it is not there by virtue of the individual himself” (SKS 3, 175 / EO2, 180). the Judge also thinks that a knows he is in despair: “Consequently, it is manifest that every esthetic view of life is despair, and that everyone who lives esthetically is in despair, whether he knows it or not. but when one knows this, and you certainly do know it, then a higher form of existence is an imperative requirement” (SKS 3, 186 / EO2, 192). 51 in Part one of Either/Or, this theme is explored in terms of a lover’s reaction to betrayal. Consider what happens to elvira after she is seduced and abandoned by don giovanni: “she is dangerous to him [Don Giovanni] because she has been seduced….As soon as she has been seduced, she is raised to a higher sphere; she has a consciousness that don giovanni lacks” (SKS 2, 102 / EO1, 98). importantly, this consciousness is not an ethical consciousness. it is a more reflective aestheticism, one that is now wary of the immediate erotic. 52 SKS 2, 41 / EO1, 32. it is interesting to note that Judge william is also impressed by the security of a’s aestheticism. He writes: “there is restlessness in you over which consciousness nevertheless hovers, bright and clear; your whole soul is concentrated upon this single point, your understanding contrives a hundred plans; you arrange everything for the attack, but it miscarries at a single point, and then your almost diabolical dialectic is instantly ready to explain what happened in such a way that it will benefit the new plan of operation. you continually hover over yourself, and no matter how critical each step, you always keep for yourself a possibility of interpretation that with one word can change everything” (SKS 3, 20–1 / EO2, 11). Consider also: “[F]or you are the epitome of any and every possibility, 49

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while a’s development of the crop rotation method suggests that he takes his life view to be self-sustaining, we still need to make sense of a’s various references to his own melancholy (Tungsind). Can a’s acknowledged depression really be reconciled with the thought that a does not see his life view as despairing? there are at least three reasons to think that it can. First, Kierkegaard says as much in The Sickness unto Death. There he is very careful to warn against conflating moods like depression with ontological states like despair. Consider, for instance, the following claim: “it must be pointed out that in a certain sense it is not even always the case that those who say they despair are in despair. despair can be affected, and as a qualification of the spirit it may also be mistaken for and confused with all sorts of transitory states, such as dejection, inner conflict, which pass without developing into despair.”53 second, there does not, in principle, seem to be anything inconsistent in thinking that certain aspects of one’s life are depressing and that one’s life is, all things considered, the best kind of life. while it is surely depressing to think, as a does, that all choices are meaningless (that whether one marries or not one will regret it either way), what if the life view that purported to overcome this meaninglessness did so only at the cost of acquiring elements that were, by a’s own lights, even more depressing? The Judge understands that he is fighting an uphill battle in this respect. He writes: “You presumably will answer that this [your tentative effort at living] is always better than traveling on the train of triviality and atomistically losing oneself in life’s social hordes,”54 and later, “How often you entertained me—yes, i readily admit it—but how often you also tormented me with your stories of how you had stolen your way into the confidence of one and then another married man in order to see how deeply bogged down he was in the swamp of marital life.”55 not only do a’s practical presuppositions all but guarantee that a will see the Judge’s life as depressing, it is likely that if the Judge were a little more reflective he would conclude the same. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, a loves his depression. Consider, for instance, the following passage from the diapsalmata: “my depression [Tungsind] is the most faithful mistress i have known—no wonder, then, that i return the love.”56 a can look upon his depression as a faithful mistress because, in the end, depression is an incredibly productive emotion. two decades before dostoevsky’s “underground man,” a demonstrates the stunning capacity human beings have to take pleasure and therefore at times one must see in you the possibility of your damnation, at times of your salvation. you pursue every mood, every idea, good or bad, happy or sad, to its outermost limit, but in such a way that it happens more in abstracto than in concreto, so that this pursuit is itself more a mood, from which nothing more results than a knowledge of it, but not so much that it becomes easier or harder for you the next time to surrender to the same mood, for you continually retain the possibility of it. this is why one can almost reproach you for everything and for nothing at all, for it is and yet is not in you. you…are impervious to responsibility…” (SKS 3, 25–6 / EO2, 17). 53 SKS 11, 140 / SUD, 24. 54 SKS 3, 17 / EO2, 7. 55 SKS 3, 18 / EO2, 8. 56 SKS 2, 29 / EO1, 20.

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in their own suffering. Because reflective aesthete’s are especially good at this, we should not be too hasty in interpreting expressions of ennui as the death throes of aestheticism. a is ingeniously engineered to utilize his own psychological stress as just another launching pad for pleasure. as the Judge explains: “Compared with those who are chasing after satisfaction, you [A] are satisfied, but that in which you find your satisfaction is absolute dissatisfaction.”57 C. Is A Unconsciously Aware of his Despair? Though A may not consciously acknowledge despair, aestheticism (reflective or otherwise) may nonetheless contain the kind of negativity he denies. if a’s practical presuppositions really do entail the superiority of the ethical stage, we might grant that a is unconsciously aware of his own despair. by this we just mean that an analysis of a’s motivational set suggests that he would, if he were acting in accordance with his desires, choose to be ethical.58 though his desire to be ethical may not be something that a ever explicitly acknowledges or acts on in practice (perhaps he is deeply deluded about his desires), we can still say of him that, in some sense, he knows the aesthetic life is one of despair. since Judge william appears to recommend precisely this, i will explore this possibility further by looking at two plausible interpretations of the Judge’s argument of the second letter.59 in her book Freedom and Reason in Kant, Schelling, and Kierkegaard, michelle Kosch develops an interpretation of the Judge’s argument that centers on a’s “fatalism.” Kosch claims that the Judge’s strategy consists in pointing out the inconsistency in a’s simultaneous denial of freedom and commitment to certain basic normative projects. she writes: “the Judge’s claim is that a’s view is self-defeating, because it is a normative stance (one that tells us what to do and avoid doing, even where its injunctions are merely prudential, as in Crop rotation) that simultaneously denies that there is any addressee of normative claims.”60 Conceived as such, the Judge’s argument can be read as an invitation to embrace a view of agency that is compatible with being a person that is subject to normative commitments.

SKS 3, 195 / EO2, 202. This series of points has benefited from conversations with walter wietzke. 58 it should be noted that reasons internalism is fully compatible with this kind of analysis. many internalists are comfortable grounding reasons in elements of an agent’s motivational set that may not be explicitly acknowledged by the agent. such accounts have the virtue of being able to explain how a self-deceived person can have a reason to do something that he does not occurently desire to do. the tricky part of such analyses is, of course, determining what constitutes having a desire. some accounts, like Korsgaard’s 1986 claim that a reason can supervene on an element of an agent’s motivational set that the agent is psychologically incapable of responding to, seem to push the bounds of what properly counts as internalism. see Christine Korsgaard, “skepticism about Practical reason,” Journal of Philosophy, vol. 83, no. 1, 1986, pp. 13–14. 59 since i take the Judge’s argument from erotic love to be importantly similar to his argument from aesthetic agency, i will limit my analysis to the latter. 60 Kosch, Freedom and Reason, p. 149. 57

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though Kosch highlights a number of passages in support of her claim that a denies free will, the most important passages in this regard are a’s self-reports. Kosch draws attention to three such passages from the “diapsalmata” where a variously claims: that he “feel[s] as a chessman must feel when the opponent says of it: that piece cannot be moved,”61 that he, like Spinoza, continuously “view[s] everything aeterno modo,”62 and finally that his “soul has lost possibility.”63 For Kosch’s interpretation, it is paramount that these passages reveal not just that a is a fatalist, but that his fatalism is grounded in a belief that his will is not free. while Kosch is right to think that a has fatalistic tendencies, it strikes me as mistaken to claim that his fatalism lies in a denial of freedom. Consider, for instance, what a says in lead up to his spinozistic confession that he is “continually aeterno modo”: marry, and you will regret it. do not marry, and you will also regret it. marry or do not marry, you will regret it either way….Laugh at the stupidities of the world, and you will regret it; weep over them, and you will also regret it. Laugh at the stupidity of the world or weep over them, you will regret it either way….trust a girl, and you will regret it. do not trust her, and you will also regret it. trust a girl or do not trust her, you will regret it either way….this, gentleman, is the quintessence of all wisdom of life. it is not merely in isolated moments that i, as spinoza says, view everything aeterno modo, but i am continually aeterno modo.64

this passage suggests that a’s fatalism is a result not of an inability to choose (for instance, either to be married or not), but rather an inability to see any particular choice as meaningful. this attitude leads to fatalism because it assumes that choices have no real significance—flip a coin or choose, either way you will regret it. When we see A’s fatalism in this light, there is no difficulty in making sense of the other two passages that Kosch cites. both a loss of “possibility” and a feeling of being trapped are easily explained in terms of a’s nihilism. when no particular choice (or chess move) matters, possibility is irrelevant. In addition to the passages quoted above, Kosch takes it to be significant that a, when he does refer to his own freedom, never speaks of it in terms of freedom of the will. by way of example, she refers the reader to the following passage from “rotation of Crops”: “if an individual is many [that is, is weighted down by wife and friends], he has lost his freedom and cannot order his riding boots when he wishes, cannot knock about according to whim.”65 what is striking about this passage is that, against Kosch’s suggestion, it seems to take a positive position on the freedom of a’s will. action according to whim, is just what Hegel has in mind in his analysis of the “arbitrary will” (Willkür), a will that has the capacity to spontaneously choose between any of its particular desires. Furthermore, Hegel’s analysis of the negativity of Willkür—that it is alienated from its objects of choice—sounds superficially 61 62 63 64 65

SKS 2, 30 / EO1, 22. SKS 2, 48 / EO1, 39. SKS 2, 50 / EO1, 41. SKS 2, 47–8 / EO1, 38–9. SKS 2, 286 / EO1, 297.

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similar to a’s nihilism. thus, if a has any problem, it is perhaps that his particular account of freedom is naive. anthony rudd and John davenport have offered interpretations of a that suggest something to this effect.66 davenport and rudd have both argued that what separates a’s aestheticism from the Judge’s ethical outlook is that the former shuns “lasting commitments.”67 while there is certainly a sense in which a is committed to avoiding boredom, there is nothing in particular (no object or person or choice) that he takes to be valuable independently of its ability to provide pleasure. because sustained commitments are an essential part of the good life as Kierkegaard conceives it, and the ethical stage is constituted by such commitments, rudd and davenport think that a has an allthings-considered reason to be ethical. if the argument were left at this, we would have good reason to worry that it fails to satisfy the internalist conditions we elaborated above. merely appealing to some human telos, without first motivating why an agent should care about that telos, comes very close to just insisting that a should be ethical. but rudd goes on to explain how his account (and in principle Davenport’s) satisfies the internalist condition. He writes: [I]t is a fundamental presupposition of Kierkegaard’s whole authorship that the ethical truth, the knowledge of our telos, is already in us….an aesthete like a is not, therefore, simply a pure innocent, knowing nothing of the ethical. and, indeed, he cannot help desiring to live in accord with his telos; but he represses those desires.68

if rudd is right about this, and Kierkegaard really thinks a “cannot help desiring to live in accord with his telos,” then we will have to admit that a has an all-thingsconsidered reason to be ethical.69 in favor of rudd’s claim, Kierkegaard sometimes speaks as though a person in a’s position knows that his life view is one of despair. this, in fact, seems to be one of the main themes of the second part of The Sickness unto Death where Kierkegaard describes despair from the perspective of Christianity. there, Kierkegaard claims that despair is sin, and that the sinner is always aware of his defiance. However, Kierkegaard crucially goes on to claim that: “sin is—after being taught by a revelation from god what sin is—before god in despair not to will to be oneself.”70 Kierkegaard explains: see John davenport, Narrative Identity, Autonomy, and Mortality, new york: routledge 2012, pp. 106–10; and anthony rudd, Self, Value, and Narrative, oxford: oxford university Press 2012, pp. 171–4. 67 rudd, Self, Value, and Narrative, p. 171. 68 ibid., p. 172. 69 in this regard, rudd and Kosch both offer interpretations that suggest that a is selfdeceived. the difference between the two interpretations can be put in terms of their analysis of a’s relationship to his will. Kosch interprets a in much the way that Hegel interprets the “immediate will”; a is just a collection of desires without an agent. rudd interprets a in much the way that Hegel interprets the “arbitrary will”; a can spontaneously choose between x and y, but is alienated from the objects of his choice. 70 SKS 11, 208 / SUD, 96. 66

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Ryan Kemp and no human being can come further than that; no man of himself and by himself can declare what sin is, precisely because he is in sin; all his talk about sin is basically a glossing over of sin, an excuse, a sinful watering down. that is why Christianity begins in another way: man has to learn what sin is by a revelation from god.71

these passages are crucial because they suggest that while despair is in fact willful defiance, it can only be understood as such once a person receives a revelation from god. “no man of himself,” including a, “can declare what sin is,” or the way in which his life manifests it. the implication this has for rudd’s interpretation is clear. if a requires a revelation from god in order to appreciate the sinfulness of his aestheticism, then the thoroughly mundane appeals of Judge william (or anyone else) cannot, in principle, achieve what they purport to achieve. even assuming that a has an implicit desire to abandon aestheticism, this is not something he can appreciate outside of divine assistance. Like a “desire” that is incapable of motivating a person,72 a “desire” that can only be made explicit by divine revelation is perhaps best described as outside an agent. Kierkegaard’s pseudonym Johannes Climacus seems to suggest as much when, in Philosophical Fragments, he claims that apart from Christian revelation, human beings are “not merely outside the truth but [are] polemical against the truth.”73 though rudd acknowledges this problem, he has a ready response. in contrast to interpretations that cast Kierkegaard as rejecting the Platonic “recollection” model, rudd thinks that Kierkegaard is best understood as a kind of augustinian. He writes: Kierkegaard’s real claim is, i think, in line with augustine and a long tradition in Christian theology. Firstly, we do have deep inward knowledge of god…but, secondly, we have for the most part a very limited and inadequate awareness of that knowledge that we possess; and thirdly, that this is not because of some accidental forgetfulness that we have suffered from, but is because we are inclined to repress and turn away from that knowledge.74

the problem with this reading is that it fails to give a satisfying account of what Kierkegaard means when he claims (in texts like Sickness and Philosophical Fragments) that coming to know the truth requires receiving an outside condition. even if we understand being “outside the truth” solely in terms of being “polemical against it” (an already dubious interpretation of the above Fragments passage),75 this does not help rudd’s larger point. if non-Christians cannot help but take a polemical stance against their “Christian desires,” then they will not be able to recognize Christian desire as something they in fact desire. this inability, it seems to me, provides good reason for excluding “Christian desire” from the set of desires that exist in a’s motivational set. SKS 11, 207 / SUD, 95. see note 58. 73 SKS 4, 224 / PF, 15. 74 rudd, Self, Value, and Narrative, p. 50. 75 rudd suggests this move in anthony rudd, “the moment and the teacher: Problems in Kierkegaard’s Philosophical Fragments,” in Søren Kierkegaard: Critical Assessments of Leading Philosophers, vols. 1–4, ed. by daniel w. Conway and K.e. gover, London: routledge 2002, vol. 2, Psychology and Epistemology, pp. 257–76. 71 72

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another problem with rudd’s account is that even if we grant that a is capable of recognizing the error of his aestheticism, this recognition does not, in itself, recommend the ethical stage. according to Kierkegaard’s Christian ontology, Judge william is also in a state of despair. His life view, no less than a’s, fails to strike the right dialectical equilibrium and relate appropriately to its divine maker. thus, if a has any reason to follow in Judge william’s path, it cannot be because the ethical stage avoids despair.76 in response to this worry, rudd rightly points out that a person can have a reason to do something that better fulfills his nature even if that thing does not entirely fulfill his nature. If, for instance, human beings are social, then a hermit might have a reason to become a dog owner even if adopting a dog is only a half-measure. rudd thinks that something like this is at stake in the move from aestheticism to the ethical stage. Since Kierkegaard’s religious stage (the teleological finish line) includes a kind of commitment that the aesthetic stage lacks and the ethical stage possesses, why not concede that Judge william is just that much closer to the ideal?77 while rudd’s response works for cases like the dog-adopting hermit, i take the relationship between a and the Judge to be importantly different. the key difference is that the ethical stage does not represent an unconditional improvement over aestheticism.78 Just as the ethical stage shares elements with the religious stage that aestheticism lacks, aestheticism shares elements with the religious stage that the ethical stage lacks. one of the most important shared features in this regard is the understanding that a human self is not exhausted by the particular cultural and historical elements that constitute its concrete identity. insofar as the Judge’s view of the self is exhausted by its finite commitments (that tedious list of bourgeois values william is so attached to), he is no closer to striking the dialectical equilibrium that religiousness demands than his aesthetic counterpart. when we come to see that ethics too evinces a kind of one-sidedness, then we can appreciate that both a and the Judge have something to learn from each other. in response to this line of criticism, rudd suggests that the Judge’s critique of a is fundamental in a way that a’s critique of the Judge is not. For instance, a’s criticism is aimed at the Judge’s particular commitments, not commitment per se.79 while i think rudd raises a nice point here, i am inclined to see a’s criticism as more foundational. a’s criticism is not aimed at the Judge’s particular commitments, but rather the ethical stage’s entire notion of what commitment amounts to. the Judge suggests that “commitment” assumes (1) a worthy object, where (2) the worthiness Lippitt makes this point in “getting the story straight,” p. 43. rudd writes: “For Kierkegaard the fundamental either/or is between the aesthetic on the one hand, and the ethico-religious on the other. once one has accepted that true selfhood is only to be found through a passionate inward commitment to an objectively existing normative framework that defines one’s telos, one has at least made the decisive move in the right direction.” rudd, “reason in ethics revisited,” pp. 189–90. 78 For this point, i am indebted to Fred rush and his dutiful defense of the virtues of aestheticism. see his Irony and Idealism, oxford: oxford university Press 2015. 79 rudd, “reason in ethics revisited,” p. 190. 76 77

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of an object is necessarily determined by certain shared communal standards. both a and Kierkegaard’s religious person reject (2). if, up to this point, the argument of the article is correct, then we must conclude that a does not have a reason to be ethical. there simply does not appear to be any clear internal path between his aesthetic presuppositions and the ethical stage. despite this, we may still think that a’s life would be better if he abandoned aestheticism and became ethical or religious. In Section IV of the article, I briefly consider what kind of appeal we should make to a if we are to hold out hope of “converting” him. IV. Conclusion: A Seducer in Need of a Seducer the hallmark of modern ethics is its universality—its absolute claim over everyone.80 this universality, however, is often thought to require the satisfaction of certain epistemological conditions, most importantly that any person who is subject to ethical norms is also capable of knowing what the relevant norms are and appreciating how those norms exercise legitimate authority.81 For Kant, these conditions are supposed to be satisfied by “common human reason,”82 the ability any person has to know his duty. For many of his contemporaries, however, Kant’s construal of common human reason was considered an insufficient response to the above epistemic conditions, especially an agent’s ability to identify the moral law as a representation of himself. Hegel’s advancement over Kant was to make clear how any practical outlook could, in principle, be guided to his own. as we have seen, in the Philosophy of Right this strategy manifests itself as a story about increasingly sophisticated accounts of the will and ethical legitimacy. Hegel’s ethical life (Sittlichkeit) is fashioned as nothing less than the rational culmination of all other practical viewpoints. in Either/Or, Part one a presents a powerful challenge to this modern tradition. against the Judge’s best efforts, a makes it clear that not all roads (or ladders) lead to ethics. one important thing to notice about this outcome is that while it does undermine the ethical stage’s self-conception as a universal and normatively legitimate sphere of existence, it has nothing to say about the possible superiority of an “ethical” life,83 where the latter is understood as a life lived in terms of certain williams makes this point in Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy, pp. 174–96. Rousseau is among the first to appreciate this. In Book I of The Social Contract, rousseau is quick to dismiss the Hobbesian “right of the strongest.” the problem with Hobbes’ conception of political authority is not that it fails as an accurate description of how some political bodies in fact work, it is that it fails as an account of “right” where right takes on a uniquely prescriptive sense. thus, rousseau makes it clear that his object of concern is political and ethical normativity, that is, the conditions in which a person has a duty to obey the laws of the state. Jean-Jacques rousseau, The Social Contract, in The Social Contract and other Political Writings, ed. and trans. by victor gourevitch, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1997, pp. 41–56. 82 immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, ed. and trans. by mary gregor, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1997, p. 16. 83 “Ethical” is placed in scare quotes to indicate that it should not be conflated with ethics as Hegel and his contemporaries understood it. “ethics” does not meet the universality conditions of ethics. 80

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accepted ethical categories (things like commitment, responsibility, or duty) but in the absence of rational justification. While I am not convinced that Kierkegaard thinks that an “ethical” life that fails to acknowledge its own rational instability is preferable to aestheticism, or that an “ethical” life lived in awareness of its rational instability is distinct from what Kierkegaard calls “religiousness a,” someone might still be inclined to think an “ethical” life is valuable and thus try to reproduce it in others. if interested in the latter, one needs to realize that a and others in his position become “ethical” only after being provided with an “ethical condition.” Kierkegaard presents his reader with two different models of transition. on the one hand, Judge william thinks that transitions occur when one person presents another with good reasons to change. on the other hand, Kierkegaard explores (most obviously in the transition between religiousness a and Christianity) how a person (or god) might be capable of giving someone else new reasons, that is, providing them with a condition to recognize the superiority of an alternative way of life that they did not previously have the ability to recognize. For the remainder of my analysis, i will refer to these two models as “transition by argument” and “conversion by seduction” respectively. insofar as seduction involves enticing someone by nonrational means—by charm or even deception—the romantic metaphor seems apt.84 if one desires to make an “ethical” convert of a, then one should seriously consider seduction. in this context, seduction involves presenting a with a picture of the “ethical” life that is capable of capturing his imagination. against Jamie Ferreira and others, who argue that Kierkegaard understands the imagination to be a faculty that permits one to see reasons that have hitherto been dormant (a kind of “midwife” faculty),85 i interpret Kierkegaard as someone who takes the imagination to be valuable insofar as it is capable of allowing a person to “try on” alternative life views and, at least potentially, come to regard them as worthwhile. on this picture, the persuasiveness of any particular life view will depend not on its strength of argument, but its ability to captivate. this is why Kierkegaard thinks that the best kind of religious communication has something in common with poetry and why, strictly speaking, it makes sense to call Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous writings an aesthetic production (even if they aim at religiousness).86 the pseudonymous writings aim to create reasons by giving rise to desires that did not exist prior to one’s encounter with them. the Christian god is, on this reading, a seducer. He acts through love, not argument. see m. Jamie Ferreira, “Faith and the Kierkegaardian Leap,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1997, pp. 207–34. For the most recent version of this interpretive move see walter wietzke, “Practical reason and the imagination,” Res Philosophica, vol. 90, no. 4, 2013, pp. 525–44. 86 i make this point below in Kemp, “Johannes de silentio: religious Poet or Faithless aesthete.” also, Kierkegaard’s “religious end” constitutes a big difference between my view of Kierkegaard as “a kind of poet” and Louis mackey’s. mackey thinks that “the truth is that Kierkegaard the poet of inwardness did not ‘really mean’ anything. His ‘intent’ is to exfoliate existential possibilities, not to offer a systematic appraisal of reality as seen from his point of view.” see Louis mackey, “a Kind of Poet,” in his Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, p. 290. 84 85

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if Kierkegaard really does recommend a seduction model of conversion,87 then a couple interesting things seem to follow. First, one might think that endorsing a seduction model signals the complete impotence of philosophy in the realm of the practical, that philosophy simply has no way of adjudicating between the superiority of the “ethical” life and any other competing life view. while this is correct up to a point, it is a mistake to think that philosophy has no place in such conversations. Kierkegaard anticipates thinkers like wittgenstein and bernard williams in suggesting that one of philosophy’s most important roles is making explicit its own limits. once we come to appreciate what philosophy can and cannot justify, we can begin to see our values in a completely new light. though objects of value do not all of a sudden lose their luster, we are forced to relate to them with a kind of anxiety, to appreciate their contingency, that they cannot be justified from some imagined “view from nowhere.” This relationship of anxiety is the first step to Kierkegaard’s religious stage, the point where we are both committed to certain things as robustly valuable and aware that their value is, in some sense, unjustifiable. This is perhaps the most important upshot of the dialectic of Either/Or. the move from an “ethical” life to a religious life is assisted by the recognition that one is not argued into the ethical stage. For making the latter clear, we are indebted to a.

incidentally, this is a claim that i understand to require much more work to establish than what has been given here. my claim is weaker, that my conclusions suggest that this might be the best way to model Kierkegaardian transition, even in non-religious cases. 87

bibliography brandt, Frithiof, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard. En Række nye Bidrag, Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, pp. 91–4; pp. 380–97. Caputo, John d., “either/or, undecidability, and two Concepts of irony: Kierkegaard and derrida,” in The New Kierkegaard, ed. by elsebet Jegstrup, bloomington and indianapolis: indiana university Press 2004, pp. 14–41. — How to Read Kierkegaard, London: granta books 2007, pp. 21–31. Cross, Andrew, “Neither either nor or: The Perils of Reflexive Irony,” The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 142–7. dalsgaard, matias, “will and narrative: Kierkegaard’s notion of the Person,” SATS: Northern European Journal of Philosophy, vol. 11, 2010, pp. 136–60. davenport, John J., “the meaning of Kierkegaard’s Choice between the aesthetic and the ethical: a response to macintyre,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John J. davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 75–113. — Narrative Identity, Autonomy, and Morality: From Frankfurt and MacIntyre to Kierkegaard, new york: routledge 2012, pp. 106–10. diese, Jörg, “autonomy in Kierkegaard’s Either/Or,” in Kierkegaard and Freedom, new york: Palgrave 2000, pp. 58–68. duckles, ian, “Kierkegaard’s irrationalism: a response to davenport and rudd,” Southwest Philosophy Review, vol. 21, no. 2, 2005, pp. 37–51. evans, C. stephen, “Kierkegaard as a Christian thinker,” in Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self, waco: baylor university Press 2006, pp. 24–5. — “where there’s a will there’s a way,” in Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self, waco: baylor university Press 2006, pp. 325–6. garff, Joakim, “Den Søvnløse”. Kierkegaard læst æstetisk/biografisk, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1995, pp. 81–4; p. 93; p. 104. geismar, eduard, “det etiske stadium hos søren Kierkegaard,” in Teologisk Tidsskrift for den danske Folkekirke, series 4, vol. 4, 1923, pp. 1–47. giese, isaiah, “Kierkegaard’s analysis of Human existence in ‘either/or’: there is no Choice between aesthetics and ethics,” International Journal of Philosophical Studies, vol. 19, no. 1, 2011, pp. 59–73. gouwens, david J., “Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or, Part one’: Patterns of interpretation,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 5–50. Hare, John e., “the unhappiest one and the structure of Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 91–108.

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Harries, Karsten, Between Nihilism and Faith: A Commentary on Either/Or, berlin: walter de gruyter 2010 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 21), pp. 12–110. Kjær, grethe, “Fairy tale themes in the Papers of a in Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 109–24. Kosch, michelle, Freedom and Reason in Kant, Schelling, and Kierkegaard, oxford: oxford university Press 2006, pp. 141–52. — “ ‘despair’ in Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” Journal of the History of Philosophy, vol. 44, no. 1, 2006, pp. 85–97. Lee, Clifford, “seductive Pedagogy: the instructive Power of the aesthetic in Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,” Kinesis: Graduate Journal in Philosophy, vol. 29, no. 2, 2002, pp. 101–13. Lillegard, norman, “thinking with Kierkegaard and macintyre about virtue, the aesthetic, and narrative,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John J. davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 211–32. Lippitt, John, “getting the story straight: Kierkegaard, macintyre and some Problems with narrative,” Inquiry, vol. 50, no. 1, 2007, pp. 34–69. macintyre, alasdair, After Virtue, notre dame: university of notre dame Press 1981, pp. 39–45. — “once more on Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 339–55. mackey, Louis, “some versions of the aesthetic: Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” Rice University Studies, vol. 50, no. 1, 1964, pp. 39–54. mcCarthy, vincent a., The Phenomenology of Moods in Kierkegaard, boston: martinus nijhoff 1978, pp. 52–65; pp. 86–7; pp. 103–5. — “narcissism and desire in Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ Part one,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 51–72. — “the Case of aesthete a in Either/Or,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2008, pp. 53–75. miles, thomas P., Kierkegaard and Nietzsche on the Best Way of Life: A New Method of Ethics, new york: Palgrave macmillan 2013, pp. 14–26. mooney, edward, “the Perils of Polarity: Kierkegaard and macintyre in search of moral truth,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 233–63. mullen, John d., “between the aesthetic and the ethical: Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” Philosophy Today, vol. 23, 1979, pp. 84–94. norris, John a., “the validity of a’s view of tragedy with Particular reference to ibsen’s ‘brand,’ ” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 143–57.

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rudd, anthony, Kierkegaard and the Limits of the Ethical, oxford: Clarendon Press 1993, pp. 68–80. — “reason in ethics: macintyre and Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John davenport and anthony rudd, new york: open Court 2001, pp. 131–49. — “reason in ethics revisited: either/or, ‘Criterionless Choice’ and narrative unity,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2008, pp. 178–99. — Self, Value, and Narrative: A Kierkegaardian Approach, oxford: oxford university Press 2012, pp. 169–73. Stern, David S., “The Ties that Bind: The Limits of Aesthetic Reflection in Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 251–69. taylor, mark C., Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Authorship: A Study of Time and the Self, Princeton, Princeton university Press 1975, pp. 127–84. westphal, merold, Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s Concluding Unscientific Postscript, west Lafayette, indiana: Purdue university Press 1996, pp. 23–5. wietzke, walter, “Practical reason and the imagination,” Res Philosophica, vol. 90, no. 4, 2013, pp. 525–44. yaffe, martin d., “an unsung appreciation of the musical-erotic in mozart’s ‘don giovanni’: Hermann Cohen’s nod toward Kierkegaard’s ‘either/or,’ ” in Either/ Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 73–89.

a, b, and a. F….: Kierkegaard’s use of anonyms Joseph westfall

in addition to his use of pseudonyms and the contrast between his pseudonymous writings and those he signed with his own name (what are sometimes called “veronymous” writings), søren Kierkegaard employed a small variety of anonyms over the course of his authorship, as well. the most famous of these—the one still Living in From the Papers of One Still Living; a and b in Either/Or; the young man in Repetition; H.H. in Two Ethical-Religious Essays—unquestionably achieve something like the authorial independence Kierkegaard grants his pseudonymous authors, thanks in part at least to the relative length and substantiality of the writings ascribed to them. throughout the early-to-mid period of his authorship, however (a period to which From the Papers of One Still Living, Either/Or, and Repetition belong), Kierkegaard employed anonymity in a somewhat different fashion. using three different anonymous alphabetical designations (as was the custom in the danish literary world of his day),1 Kierkegaard authored five anonymous newspaper articles: three in Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post (“another defense of woman’s great abilities,” 1834; “the morning observations in Kjøbenhavnsposten no. 43,” 1836; “on the Polemic of Fædrelandet,” 1836), one in Fædrelandet (“who is the author of Either/Or,” 1843), and one in Fædrelandets Feuilleton (“a Cursory observation Concerning a detail in Don Giovanni,” 1845). The first and last of these are ascribed to the anonym “a,” the two articles from 1836 to the anonym “b,” and the one article in Fædrelandet to the anonym “a. F….” although there has been some scholarly discussion of anonymity in Kierkegaard’s writings, as well as Kierkegaard’s understanding of anonymity as it was practiced in golden age danish literary and journalistic culture, very little has been said about any one of the anonymous authors themselves. in what follows, i will address each of the newspaper anonyms separately, with two goals in mind: (1) to identify, as much as is possible, the personality and point of view of each author, and (2) to address the nature of the anonymity of each of the anonymous authors, that is to say, why the author is anonymous (rather than pseudonymous or veronymous). throughout, i will address what seems to me to be a development in Kierkegaard’s understanding

Joakim garff, SAK. Søren Aabye Kierkegaard. En biografi, Copenhagen: gads Forlag 2000, p. 57. (english translation: Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 63.) 1

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of anonymous authorship that plays out in his own use of anonyms over the period 1834–45. I. A (“Another Defense of Woman’s Great Abilities”) of the three newspaper anonyms, a is certainly the most frequently noted and most frequently employed. in addition to the two newspaper articles under consideration here—“another defense of woman’s great abilities” and “a Cursory observation Concerning a detail in Don Giovanni”—it is also the case that the bulk of the writings constituting the first volume of Either/Or are also ascribed (by victor eremita) to a. when Kierkegaard employs the same pseudonym as author of two separate works—Johannes Climacus as author of Philosophical Fragments and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, for example—it seems safe to conclude that we are meant to understand the two works to have one albeit fictional author. This is in the nature of names, to designate individuals. an anonym, however, differs from a pseudonym precisely in this way: that whatever designates the anonymous author is not in fact a name. Thus, whereas “Johannes Climacus” identifies one authorial personality, “a” may or may not do so. of the three works anonymized with the letter a, “in defense of woman’s great abilities” is the least like the other two, and is typically distinguished authorially from the other two. given the overlap in their interests, however, and the late date of the publication of “a Cursory observation,” the a of this article and the a of Either/Or are sometimes understood by readers of Kierkegaard to be the same a.2 whether the author of the aesthetic portion of Either/Or, Part one and the author of “a Cursory observation” are the same authorial personality is a matter we need not resolve here. what is of real importance, however, in any consideration of Kierkegaard’s newspaper anonyms is to distinguish—or, at the very least, entertain the possibility of distinguishing—between the author of “another defense” and the author of “a Cursory observation.” these do not seem to have been authored from the same authorial perspective.3 in addition, as we will see, they do not seem to be anonymous in the same way, either. as such, i will treat the a of “another defense” separately from the a of “a Cursory observation,” with the analyses of the anonyms b and a. F…. in the interim. “Another Defense of Woman’s Great Abilities” is Kierkegaard’s first published work. it appeared in Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post on december 17, 1834, as a follow-up to a previously published satire of the emancipation of women. the article is a short 2 see COR, explanatory notes, 277–8 note 92; and Julia watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001 (Historical Dictionaries of Religions, Philosophies, and Movements, vol. 33), p. 401. 3 at least one reader does take the a of “another defense” to be identical with the aesthete, a, of Either/Or. see Céline Léon, “(a) woman’s Place within the ethical,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline Léon and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, p. 118. also Céline Léon, The Neither/Nor of the Second Sex: Kierkegaard on Women, Sexual Difference, and Sexual Relations, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008, p. 119.

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and sophomoric satire of women’s intelligence, character, and accomplishments from a straightforwardly misogynistic point of view: a decidedly inauspicious beginning for an author of Kierkegaard’s stature. in a characteristic passage, a writes: History throughout the ages shows that woman’s great abilities have at least in part been recognized. Hardly was man created before we find Eve already as audience at the snake’s philosophical lectures, and we see that she mastered them with such ease that at once she could utilize the results of the same in her domestic practice. this talent for speculation and the allied craving for deeper knowledge already manifest here, the East tried to satisfy; therefore women were confined in seraglios. And whenever an occasional traveler ventured into these sanctuaries, he was certainly driven solely by a thirst for knowledge.4

in the article, a appears as an unabashedly conservative and to some extent uncritical defender of the status quo, making in a particularly witty fashion what were (and are) nevertheless some of the standard sexist arguments against public and legal recognition of the equality of women with men. the parody of eve as a philosophy student, or of middle eastern women as concubines, is far from the later recognition, by the a of Either/Or, of the intelligence, heroism, and noble qualities of such female characters as margarete (of goethe’s Faust).5 naturally, this may indicate some development and growth in Kierkegaard’s own perspective on women in the years between the writing of the two works. but with regard to the anonymity of the authors of these two texts, we can say that the a of Either/Or has achieved some independence from his culture (if not also from his own author, Kierkegaard), such that he stands apart as a more fully realized fictional personality than does the A of “Another Defense.” The newspaper anonym, especially in its parroting of a prior article in the same newspaper, stands in for the newspaper itself, for society at large, for the cultural norms in the Copenhagen of the day. a can be anonymous because a’s views are the generic, stereotypical views of the danish (male) author of his time. in this sense, of the authors to appear in the Kierkegaardian authorship—anonymous, pseudonymous, or veronymous—the a of “another defense” is the least individualized, the least like a person or a personality, the closest to having no point of view of his own at all. II. B the two articles ascribed to the anonym b6—“the morning observations in Kjøbenhavnsposten no. 43” and “on the Polemic of Fædrelandet”—constitute elements of a multi-article, multi-newspaper, multi-author dispute spanning 1835– 36 over new regulations regarding the freedom of the press in denmark. spurred largely by a five-part article by Orla Lehmann entitled “Press Freedom Affair,” this dispute was primarily between two authors, both writing anonymously: Lehmann, SKS 14, 9 / EPW, 3. SKS 2, 200–209 / EO1, 204–15. 6 there appears to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that the b of the early newspaper polemics is a distinct persona from the b of Either/Or, Judge william. 4 5

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whose writings in Kjøbenhavnsposten advocated public action against the new press regulations, and Kierkegaard, whose articles in Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post did not so much embrace the new regulations as attempt to undermine Lehmann’s (and others’) criticisms. b’s chief complaints about Lehmann’s activist position have everything to do with the form of Lehmann’s criticisms, rather than their content. and the main formal criticism b has—however ironically—is that Lehmann authors his articles anonymously. in so criticizing orla Lehmann, b establishes a working understanding of the nature of anonymity, at least insofar as it is practiced in journalism seeking to provoke social reform. what are perhaps the most vitriolic criticisms of Lehmann’s articles appear in neither of the articles attributed to B, but in Kierkegaard’s final contribution to the dispute, “to mr. orla Lehmann” (Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post, april 10, 1836). in that article, published under his own name, Kierkegaard takes authorial responsibility for the two prior articles ascribed to b, and takes Lehmann to task for failing to respect the boundary between the worlds of anonymous literary criticism and social reform.7 as these are Kierkegaard’s views, however, we need not delve into them here. instead, we will examine the two main tenets of b’s criticism of his opponents in this journalistic dispute. in “the morning observations,” b’s general criticism of Lehmann’s approach is that it lacks seriousness. Lehmann demonstrates his lack of seriousness, b asserts, in two ways: first, he evinces a “swagger-booted, high-tragic posture” which “reminds one of don Quixote who springs up in a dream and, with nothing on but his shirt, conducts himself as a hero.”8 this line of attack leads b to the charge that the writing staff of Kjøbenhavnsposten does not distinguish their writerly errors from those of the newspaper’s “compositor” (typesetter). thus, b notes, that the compositor is actually a member of the staff of Kjøbenhavnsposten it seems to have recognized itself, since it does not, like other papers make a distinction between the authors’ errors and the compositor’s (printing errors) but elevates the whole to a higher unity under the designation “corrections,” from which it then becomes a consequence that the authors can use the compositor as a shield.9

the newspaper in which Lehmann publishes his anonymous reform articles is thus itself complicit in the problem, as it permits Lehmann—like all of its authors— to avoid individual responsibility for what he writes. b compares the situation of writers for Kjøbenhavnsposten to the general situation in danish newspapers of the day with regard to calls for social and political reform. noting that reform is clearly something which Kjøbenhavnsposten advocates, b marvels at the newspaper’s—and its writers’—lack of seriousness. “where, then, is that energetic, that serious, reforming spirit? is it identical with those anonymous reformers (i can hardly say these words in one breath) who have their prototype in

see Joseph westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 80–91. 8 SKS 14, 14 / EPW, 8. 9 SKS 14, 14n / EPW, 8n. 7

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that anonymous or rather pseudonymous reformer, the snake of eden?”10 b goes on to compare the “anonymous reformers” of Kjøbenhavnsposten (including Lehmann) in their relationship to the newspaper’s editor, andreas Peter Liunge, to the bold public nature of the activities of three world-historical social reformers: and shall i class with them all the world’s reformers straight from moses, who, although he used aaron’s mouth, nevertheless did not stay in the background in order to let him fall victim to Pharaoh’s wrath but faithfully met all dangers and difficulties—through Luther to an o’Connell—those anonymous reformers who work under the auspices of Liunge? and it is Liunge, the editor responsible under press law, who is fattened up and well fed like a sacrificial lamb, in order one day to fall under censorship’s razor, this Liunge who, however, in a certain respect is too good to be editor of Kjøbenhavnsposten, since its staff might prefer to have a perfect nothing instead.11

effectively, b argues here against any sort of social reform wherein the reformers do not present themselves publicly to suffer whatever consequences follow from the reforms they advocate. Presumably, anonymous literary or newspaper criticism of the sort in which b engages is a different story; otherwise, b is subject to his own criticism here. but Lehmann and his colleagues at Kjøbenhavnsposten, publishing anonymous articles that call for public action protesting the law of the land and thus risking retribution on the part of the law or the danish Crown, act irresponsibly (on b’s view) insofar as they do not present themselves to be held accountable for their actions—but hide behind Liunge. the problem, then, is not just that Lehmann et al. are anonymous, but that their anonymity is a mode of ethically irresponsible concealment.12 we might say that, according to b, such authors lack the courage of their convictions—and that this casts doubts on either the seriousness or the tenability of those convictions, if not both. in response to “the morning observations,” orla Lehmann’s ostensible ally, Johannes Hage, wrote an anonymous criticism of b’s article, taking b to task. in response to Hage’s anonymous article, then, b wrote another. “on the Polemic in Fædrelandet” has two goals: to defend “the morning observations” against Hage’s criticisms and to criticize Hage (and Lehmann, once more) for the form of criticism in which they engage. by and large, “on the Polemic” is a rehashing of “the Morning Observations,” then, filled with witty and biting criticisms of various minor points, from theoretical to ethical to grammatical, in the Hage article. b reiterates the point from “the morning observations,” that Liunge is nothing more than a name behind which the “anonymous reformers”—“who merely need someone they can hang out in their stead”13—can hide. in an ethical vein, b notes that, “in our no. 76, we have not permitted ourselves one single attack on the opponent’s character and

SKS 14, 15 / EPW, 10. SKS 14, 16 / EPW, 10–11. 12 see robert L. Perkins, “Power, Politics, and media Critique: Kierkegaard’s First brush with the Press,” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 1), p. 37. 13 SKS 14, 24 / EPW, 20. 10 11

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intention. we therefore hoped to be exempted from that sort of attack, but in vain.”14 and b concludes “on the Polemic” with as powerful an example of restrained but biting wit as exists in the early Kierkegaardian authorship. the last paragraph of the article reads, in full, “Finally, we owe it to the author in Fædrelandet to admit that of the two linguistic errors he has found in our piece, one is a linguistic error.”15 the matter-of-factness, sarcasm, insignificance, and finality of the closing lines of the article demonstrate very clearly the character and style of their author—situating b likely within what Kierkegaard (and that other b, Judge william) would call “the aesthetic.” overall, the sense a reader gets of b’s character in these two articles is certainly much more complex and nuanced than that of a in “another defense.” all of the anonymous parties involved in this early period in Kierkegaard’s career—a and b, as well as the anonymous Lehmann and Hage—are to a certain extent vain and petty, witty and sarcastic perhaps beyond the bounds of decency and propriety, thinskinned, but also dialectically attentive, analytic thinkers (of admittedly varying degrees of ability). b, however, stands apart from the rest insofar as he is not only engaged in the substance of the debate at hand, freedom of the press. b is simultaneously engaged with the literary form of journalistic debate, and specifically with the role anonymity plays in socially liberating but ethically constraining what a writer for the newspapers writes. an anonymous author, b seems to indicate, is certainly freer to say whatever he or she wants than a veronymous author would be, since no reader knows to whom to ascribe the anonym’s views. at the same time, however, b argues that certain sorts of views—and, in the case of the dispute with Lehmann and Hage, the views in question are socially reformative ones—must be able to be ascribed to their authors, for the sake of holding those authors accountable for whatever consequences follow from their advocacy for those views. whereas the a of “another defense” is almost a non-entity (perhaps in the manner in which b accuses the staff of Kjøbenhavnsposten of wanting “a perfect nothing” for editor), b is an anonym with a point of view, albeit a point of view on little more than anonymity. III. A. F.... Kierkegaard’s next foray into newspaper anonymity comes seven years after the conclusion of the dispute with Lehmann and Hage, in the form of a short article in Fædrelandet. Published on February 27, 1843, “who is the author of Either/ Or”—ascribed to the anonym A. F….—serves as the first explicit attempt within Kierkegaard’s writings to address the relationship between Kierkegaard and the pseudonymous books, in this case specifically the authorship of Either/Or. upon publication of Either/Or in 1843 (a work the editorship of which is ascribed to the pseudonym victor eremita and the authorship of which is divided between anonymous personae dubbed by eremita a and b, as well as a seducer known only 14 15

SKS 14, 25 / EPW, 22. SKS 14, 26 / EPW, 23.

A, B, and A. F….

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as Johannes and an anonymous Jutland pastor), speculation as to the “real” identity of the author was, according to a. F…., abundant. despite the widespread interest, however, a. F…. notes that no conclusive answer to the question of the authorship of Either/Or has been arrived at, and that this may mean in fact that the author’s real identity may never be known. He writes, “so the matter is still adhuc sub judice and perhaps will never go further unless on the occasion of this authorship they complain that the legal right to use flogging during inquiry has been abolished and are able to get it reinstated. in that case, I would not be the sinner against whom they have sufficient moral evidence; even less would i be his back.”16 the irony inherent in this statement is apparent, although perhaps only to those readers of “who is the author of Either/Or” who read the article knowing in advance that the author of the article and the author of Either/ Or are the same man. this insight, as well as some elements of golden age danish literary practice, lead some readers of the article to take the anonym, “a. F.,” to signify the danish Af Forfatteren: “by the author.” in that case, of course, the author indicated by the anonym would most likely be eremita, not Kierkegaard, as Julia watkin and Joakim garff have noted.17 whether Kierkegaard or eremita, however, if a. F…. is merely a means of ascribing authorship of the article to the author of that book, then the point of the earlier bit of wit—that the author of the article is not the author of Either/Or—is something like a lie. in addition, it would be a transparent and thus rather foolish lie, given that, if “a. F.” is meant rather straightforwardly to stand in for Af Forfatteren, and thus to point directly and explicitly to eremita (or Kierkegaard), to claim in the first paragraph of the article that he is not the author of Either/Or would be to instantiate an obvious contradiction. the article ascribed to “the author” would make the claim, before any other, that whatever else is true, it is not ascribable to “the author.” in any case, the body of the article is devoted to considerations of the evidence for ascribing authorship of Either/Or to any one particular person. a. F…. divides such evidence into two categories, “external” and “internal” (to the text), and treats them in separate sections. we need not explore the details of a. F….’s catalogue to see that, in the end, he finds both the external evidence and the internal evidence to be weak, and the various arguments for identifying one or another as the author unpersuasive. ultimately, a. F…. decides to rest with a view that becomes in some sense characteristic of the Kierkegaardian approach to pseudonymity (and, we might add, anonymity of a certain sort). He writes, “most people, including the author of this article, think it is not worth the trouble to be concerned about who the author is. they are happy not to know his identity, for then they have only the book to deal with, without being bothered or distracted by his personality.”18 this is something like what eremita claims is his reason for assigning anonyms to the authors of the two halves of Either/Or,19 and is similar to (if significantly less robust than) SKS 14, 49 / COR, 13. watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, p. 401; garff, SAK. Søren Aabye Kierkegaard. En biografi, p. 188 (Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 216). 18 SKS 14, 51 / COR, 16. 19 SKS 2, 20–1 / EO1, 13–14. 16 17

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Kierkegaard’s suggestion for how to read his pseudonymous books in “a First and Last explanation.”20 In addition, A. F….’s view is a significant advance upon the theory of anonymity set forth by b in “the morning observations” and “on the Polemic.” For b, anonymity was ethically irresponsible, at least for an author engaged in social or political activism. beyond this consideration, however, b has little to say about anonymity. that b’s articles are themselves anonymous leads one to suspect that he would have to be tolerant of at least some forms of anonymous authorship, but what such forms are or might be goes unspecified in B’s writings themselves. A. F…., on the other hand, not only advocates a certain sort of anonymity—for pseudonymity as a mode of anonymity, or for the odd mixture of pseudonymity and anonymity that characterizes the authorship of Either/Or—but practices a self-conscious anonymity which he clearly, if not explicitly, finds not merely acceptable but advisable. If one seeks to achieve a certain sort of goal as an author, if an author wishes to centralize what he or she has written over who he or she happens to be, personally speaking, then a. F…. suggests that anonymity is at least a component of the authorial scheme one must enact as an author. Leaving names out of it puts readers in the position of having to concentrate on the words written, rather than the personality who has written them. while a profoundly minor Kierkegaardian anonym, a. F…. nevertheless articulates for the first time what is to become a central element of the Kierkegaardian understanding of authorship. IV. A (“A Cursory Observation Concerning a Detail in Don Giovanni”) Kierkegaard uses the anonym a again for the very last time in a two-part newspaper article reviewing a contemporary performance of mozart’s Don Giovanni in Copenhagen. “a Cursory observation Concerning a detail in Don Giovanni” was published on may 19 and 20, 1845 in Fædrelandets Feuilleton, and although it begins as if it aims to review the performance of Jørgen C. Hansen, who performed the title role, it ends up a review of the proper performance of the somewhat more minor role of zerlina, as well as an indictment of contemporary opera and theater criticism. It is in the spirit of the latter that A opens the article, and justifies concentrating his criticism on a relatively small part of the overall production. a writes: the newspapers have already passed their verdict on the performance as a whole and in part. i shall not venture an opinion so quickly, not even of the newspapers’ evaluation business. there is the beautiful ancient rule of the departed socrates: to reason modestly from the little that one understands of something to the much that one does not understand. the theater criticism in the newspapers always constrains me to extreme modesty and ascetic abstinence from any conclusion.21

A establishes in the first paragraph of his article, then, an opposition between himself as critic and the newspaper criticism of his day—an interesting, if not ironic, position 20 21

SKS 7, 569–73 / CUP1, 625–30. SKS 14, 69 / COR, 28.

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for a to hold, however, given the fact that “a Cursory observation” is a work of newspaper opera criticism. Here, we see something like the authorial tension of b’s criticism of anonymous newspaper articles (despite his own anonymity) reappearing in a. neither anonym is quite as simple, authorially speaking, as he might seem. Following from the general introduction to his difference from other critics, a proceeds to indicate the central focus of his criticism: a point of performance—the performance of one or two lines, in fact—in the opera. “there is, however, one particular detail of which i have become aware and on which i wish to dwell for a moment, requesting a reader’s interest, for i do not wish to delay anyone who is in a hurry or to waste the time of businessmen.”22 the detail in question is the singing of a line by giovanni in his duet with zerlina, but the force of the passage quoted is in fact to further distance a from his audience. in addition to proclaiming an essential difference between himself and other newspaper theater critics, a suggests here that he is also not the sort of author who writes for ordinary, practical, business-minded readers—readers of the newspapers, one might say. a writes theater criticism in the newspapers that is not really theater criticism (as the Copenhageners of his day would understand it, he thinks), for those people reading the newspapers who are not really newspaper readers. despite the tenuousness of such distinctions, without them the force of a’s criticism of his fellow critics is lost, and his decision to focus both installments of his article on one or two relatively minor moments in the performance of the opera seems inappropriate, if not in fact foolish. this possible reading of his article occurs to a and is one he addresses before the article concludes. although the central portions of “a Cursory observation” offer a theory of operatic performance according to which an actor-singer must attempt to produce irony in the mind of the spectator, rather than in any ostensible element of the performance itself,23 the question of the interpretation and validity of a’s approach returns at the end of the article. Having shifted his analysis relatively early on from an evaluation of Hansen’s performance as giovanni to a consideration of what is needed to perform the role of zerlina well, a offers a broadly ironic—almost socratic—apology: Perhaps some, even the majority, feel that this whole thing is of no importance, since in fact one almost never sees zerlina made an object of esthetic interpretation. i myself am inclined to regard it as unimportant and therefore feel obliged to beg mr. Hansen’s pardon, inasmuch as upon seeing his name mentioned he may take the trouble to read the article, and i beg the forgiveness of Fædrelandet for burdening it with such a contribution, whose defect, curiously enough, is that it is not sufficiently weighty.24

once more, a suggests that there is an essential difference between the sort of criticism typical of the danish newspapers and the criticism in which he has engaged. Having already distinguished himself from other newspaper critics and from the majority of newspaper readers, a further distinguishes his point of view here ibid. For a summary of a’s view of operatic performance, see westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author, pp. 147–54. 24 SKS 14, 74–5 / COR, 36. 22 23

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from that which he presumes might be the attitude of an operatic performer like Hansen himself. the underlying assertion here, of course, is that someone like Hansen would only read an aesthetic article such as “a Cursory observation” if he thought it was about Hansen; that it is about the opera and a character in the opera, instead, prompts a to apologize both to Hansen and to Fædrelandet. the apology is clearly sarcastic, however, and the depth of its sarcasm becomes apparent in the lines following, when he notes that Hansen is in a position to offer forgiveness precisely because he has desire, talent, and opportunity. nevertheless, a insinuates that Hansen does not adequately employ his abilities, does not hone his skills through sufficient training, when he writes: “when one has been given so much and also has acquired something, i daresay one could squander a little time practicing how to walk and how to stand.”25 this seems at least in part to be a reference to a’s earlier criticism of Hansen’s performance as giovanni, that he fails fully to appreciate the nature of the character, and plays the role dramatically rather than operatically.26 Hansen turns giovanni into a “mawkish zither player” who does not know to whom to sing, because Hansen does not quite know where on the stage to stand.27 the article does not end there, however, but with one additional, mysterious sentence, immediately following the reference to Hansen’s failure to practice walking and standing: “i really do not believe that my legs or my gait have any connection with my interpretation of the most immortal opera; then i would have to get other legs for walking.”28 Here, a seems to be saying a number of different things at once: (1) that his relationship to Don Giovanni as critic differs essentially from that of Hansen’s relationship to Don Giovanni as performer; (2) that the work of criticism is not essentially imaginative in the manner of operatic performance, a point a earlier suggests has to do with the onstage tension a performer can create between his singing and his acting (including stage movement);29 (3) that there may be some reason to believe that people think his “legs or [his] gait” have some essential relation to what he writes. readers of Kierkegaard know that he had a reputation in Copenhagen for having uneven trouser legs, for a kind of physical misshapenness that made his gait unusual and distinctive. Less than a year later, the satirical newspaper, the Corsair, would ridicule Kierkegaard publicly on the basis of those perceived physical defects. Howard and edna Hong suggest, in fact, some relationship between Kierkegaard’s public figure and this final line of “A Cursory observation”;30 whether there is any intentional correspondence or not, however, it is clear that, for readers of Kierkegaard, this passage cannot help but serve as a reminder of the fact that a is himself an anonym, and an anonym of Kierkegaard. It seems fitting, then, that Kierkegaard’s use of newspaper anonymity ends with a reference that seems on some level written in order to provoke readers to think about the anonymity of the anonymous articles. the a of “a Cursory observation”— 25 26 27 28 29 30

SKS 14, 75 / COR, 36–7. see westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author, pp. 159–65. SKS 14, 73 / COR, 34. SKS 14, 75 / COR, 37. SKS 14, 69 / COR, 29. COR, explanatory notes, 277, note 91.

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perhaps the same as the a of Either/Or, perhaps not—is a nearly fully fleshed out individuality, a fictional persona Kierkegaard used to one or another literary end. a is thus the terminus of a trajectory that began, appropriately enough, with a, in “another defense.” the a of “another defense” is the sort of anonymous author one might wish would not write; b devotes his anonymous authorship to making precisely that sort of judgment of other anonymous authors. a. F…., alternatively, offers a more sophisticated understanding and defense of anonymity, especially as it relates to an existential-philosophical authorship, and the a of “a Cursory observation” becomes the sort of anonym b hints at and a. F…. recommends: a fully present author who, by way of his lack of a name, makes room for the reader to confront his ideas more directly than one otherwise might.

bibliography bejerholm, Lars, “anonymity and Pseudonymity,” in Kierkegaard: Literary Miscellany, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C. a. reitzel 1981 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 9), p. 19. dalton, stuart, “How to avoid writing: Prefaces and Points of view in Kierkegaard,” Philosophy Today, vol. 44, no. 2, 2000, p. 131. garff, Joakim, SAK. Søren Aabye Kierkegaard. En biografi, Copenhagen: gads Forlag 2000, p. 43; pp. 57–60; p. 188; p. 296. (english translation: Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 49; pp. 63–7; p. 216; p. 333.) Léon, Céline, “(a) woman’s Place within the ethical,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline Léon and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, p. 118. — The Neither/Nor of the Second Sex: Kierkegaard on Women, Sexual Difference, and Sexual Relations, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008, p. 119. watkin, Julia, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001 (Historical Dictionaries of Religions, Philosophies, and Movements, vol. 33), pp. 401–2. westfall, Joseph, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 80–91; pp. 147–65. — “who is the author of The Point of View?: issues of authorship in the Posthumous Kierkegaard,” Philosophy and Social Criticism, vol. 38, no. 6, 2012, pp. 569–71.

anti-Climacus: Kierkegaard’s “servant of the word” Jakub marek

I. Anti-Climacus anti-Climacus was to become Kierkegaard’s last major pseudonym.1 in the framework of Kierkegaard’s work, anti-Climacus represents the Christian standpoint and, as such, he is a higher pseudonym as compared to the earlier esthetic pseudonyms.2 in Kierkegaard’s own account, his authorship moved “from ‘the poet,’ from the esthetic—from ‘the philosopher,’ from the speculative—to the indication of the most inward qualification of the essentially Christian.”3 it was anti-Climacus’ role to serve such a task of addressing the problem of “the most inward qualifications” of becoming a Christian. in doing so, anti-Climacus stands at the point, where the entirety of Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous and authorial authorship comes, as it were, to a halt.4 between 1849 and 1850, Kierkegaard published, as an editor, the two works by anti-Climacus: on July 30, 1849 The Sickness unto Death, and on september 27, 1850 Practice in Christianity. the two pseudonymous books were further accompanied by two publications of Kierkegaard’s own discourses, The Three Discourses at the Communion on Fridays in 1849 and An Upbuilding Discourse in 1850.5 anti-Climacus belongs, within Kierkegaard’s corpus, in the tradition of thetical authors, providing a “dialectical algebra”6 instead of undertaking what other pseudonyms have attempted—a poetical depiction of an individual’s existential situation.7 as such, anti-Climacus is following up on, most importantly, vigilius Haufniensis and Johannes Climacus. However, Anti-Climacus differs from these most significantly in that he also spelled anticlimacus, or even anti-Climachus. see SKS 20, 373, nb5:8 / JP 6, 6142; Pap. X–6 b 48 / JP 6, 6349; SKS 21, 279, nb10:43 / JP 6, 6350; SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431. 2 along with H.H., the author of Two Ethical-Religious Essays. see SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431; SKS 22, 151, nb12:9 / JP 6, 6446; SKS 22, 169, nb12:52 / JP 6, 6461–2. 3 SKS 13, 12 / PV, 5. 4 Cf. SKS 22, 169, nb12:52 / JP 6, 6461. 5 Cf. SKS 22, 322, nb13:79 / JP 6, 6519; SKS 13, 12 / PV, 6. 6 SKS 11, 196 / SUD, 82; SKS 21, 96, nb7:40 / JP 1, 487; SKS 20, 365, nb4:160 / JP 5, 6137. 7 Cf. SKS 20, 365, nb4:160 / JP 5, 6137. 1

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assumes a higher standpoint as opposed to the standpoints of vigilius Haufniensis or Johannes Climacus. Johannes Climacus investigates Christianity as a humorist, who takes back all that he has said. even though Johannes Climacus addresses the problem of becoming a Christian, he nonetheless distances himself from actually being a Christian.8 “with Climacus everything drowns in humor; therefore he himself retracts his book.”9 anti-Climacus, by contrast, portrays the ideality of a Christian existence as such; he is “a Christian on an extraordinarily high level.”10 seen like this, the respective positions of the two pseudonyms are indeed anti-thetical, Johannes Climacus is the opposite of anti-Climacus.11 anti-Climacus is anti- or contra that which is non-Christian, opposing the non-Christian existence, the standpoint of the “natural man.”12 yet anti-Climacus is hardly to be understood as a negation of the pseudonym Johannes Climacus. on the contrary, in many important aspects, anti-Climacus continues in Johannes Climacus’ and others’ work: “[he] gladly undertake[s], by way of brief repetition, to emphasize what other pseudonyms have emphasized.”13 anti-Climacus repeats much of what Johannes Climacus and other pseudonyms already tried to convey in their works, but from a decisively Christian standpoint. II. The Basic Categories of Anti-Climacus according to Kierkegaard’s own evaluation, The Sickness unto Death and Practice in Christianity are “extremely valuable” in that they allowed him to “illuminate Christianity on a scale greater than [he] had ever dreamed possible; crucial categories are directly disclosed there.”14 the two crucial categories of anti-Climacus’ take on the problem of Christianity are sin and offense. as we shall yet see, the (consciousness of) sin and the (possibility of) offense are, in anti-Climacus’ account, the two fundamental conditions of a possible Christian existence. they are, to use an expression by Johannes Climacus, “the Cerberus pair who guard the entry to becoming a Christian.”15 in SKS 7, 560 / CUP1, 617. see also SKS 22, 169, nb12:52 / JP 6, 6462. SKS 22, 135–6, nb11:222 / JP 6, 6439. 10 ibid. Cf. SKS 28, 441, brev 286 / LD, 298–9, Letter 213; SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431; SKS 22, 138–9, nb11:228 / JP 6, 6442; SKS 22, 151, nb12:9 / JP 6, 6446. 11 Kierkegaard developed the dialectical relationship of both in detail (cf. Pap. X–6 b 48 / JP 6, 6349; SKS 22, 362, nb14:30 / JP 6, 6532), suggesting that they are the two complementary guiding ideal figures of an actual Christian existence (cf. SKS 21, 279, nb10:43 / JP 6, 6350; SKS 22, 130, nb11:209 / JP 6, 6433). He even suggests that he “would place [himself] higher than Johannes Climacus, lower than Anti-Climacus” (SKS 22, 130, nb11:209 / JP 6, 6433). see also SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431; SKS 22, 362, nb14:30 / JP 6, 6532. Later on Kierkegaard, however, downplayed the meaning of this dialectical relationship, not stressing it in the published works (cf. SKS 22, 169, nb12:52 / JP 6, 6462). 12 Cf. SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431. 13 Pap. X–6 b 79 / JP 1, 10. 14 SKS 21, 293–4, nb10:69 / JP 6, 6361 (my emphasis). 15 SKS 7, 339 / CUP1, 372, note that in Climacus’ Concluding Unscientific Postscript it is despair and offense. 8 9

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anti-Climacus’ works approach the two major categories as a problem of upbuilding,16 striving to illuminate the true meaning of Christianity.17 antiClimacus draws the attention of the reader to the problem of Christian existence, helping the reader to become aware of the gravity of fundamental Christian categories.18 anti-Climacus thus confronts the reader with a demand for selfreflection, halting the individual19 and “examining a person critically and forcing him back within his boundaries.”20 anti-Climacus makes the individual aware that he or she stands, as it were, at a crossroads, where only Christ “is the truth, and the way and the Life.”21 We will examine this upbuilding effort of Anti-Climacus first as it manifests itself in The Sickness unto Death in the form of “algebra,” illuminating and confronting the reader with the “abC’s” of the human condition, with the dialectics of sin as its universal and most profound determination. this symptomatic analysis or categorical analysis is then in Practice in Christianity turned into a “topographical map”22 of relationships, helping the individual in guiding him or her towards Christianity. III. Anti-Climacus’ Algebra of Human Existence what we witness in The Sickness unto Death is a breaking down of the whole of human existence into basic categories, “[a] genuine anthropological contemplation, which has not yet been undertaken.”23 anti-Climacus’ point of departure in his anthropological investigation is sin, or, as the ultimate presupposition, the dogmatic notion of hereditary sin.24 anti-Climacus

16 yet not in the sense of the earlier “poet-category: upbuilding” (SKS 22, 127–8, nb11:204 / JP 6, 6431). anti-Climacus is an upbuilding author in the Christian sense of upbuilding. Christianity builds up or illuminates through revelation (cf. SKS 11, 117 / SUD, 5; SKS 11, 202 / SUD, 89; SKS 11, 207 / SUD, 95), thus transcending the possibilities of any “natural human” upbuilding (SKS 11, 208–9 / SUD, 95–7). 17 Cf. SKS 21, 293–4, nb10:69 / JP 6, 6361; SKS 12, 231 / PC, 237. 18 most importantly of sin. see SKS 27, 501, Papir 421 / JP 6, 6278; SKS 20, 286, nb4:2 / JP 3, 3423. making aware of this sickness is the actual project of The Sickness unto Death. see, for example, SKS 11, 131 / SUD, 15; SKS 11, 143 / SUD, 27. 19 Cf. SKS 22, 154, nb12:17 / JP 6, 6450; SKS 22, 322, nb13:79 / JP 6, 6519; SKS 22, 358–9, nb14:27 / JP 6, 6530; Pap. X–5 b 206 / JP 6, 6518; Pap. X–6 b 145 / JP 6, 6786. “Halt” is also to be understood in the sense of the principal rest or resting place in Christ’s offer of forgiveness. see SKS 12, 25–6 / PC, 14–15; SKS 12, 37 / PC, 23. 20 Pap. X–5 b 206 / JP 6, 6518. 21 SKS 12, 231 / PC, 238. see John 14:6. 22 Cf. SKS 21, 176, nb8:73 / JP 6, 6283. 23 SKS 27, 234, Papir 264:3 / JP 1, 37. 24 anti-Climacus “merely approaches the border” of the dogma of hereditary sin. (see SKS 11, 202 / SUD, 89; SKS 11, 206 / SUD, 93.) the problem of hereditary sin was extensively discussed in vigilius Haufniensis’ The Concept of Anxiety, a book to which anti-Climacus directly refers (see, for example, SKS 11, 159 / SUD, 44).

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maintains that “the condition of man, regarded as spirit…is always critical.”25 in the situation of hereditary sin, “there is no immediate health of the spirit.”26 the sinful human condition is further to be understood from the viewpoint of freedom: the situation of sin being the result of an individual’s actions,27 thus making him or her responsible and, at the same time, demanding the individual to realize the existential task asked of him or her, a task of reaching the truth, of becoming a Christian.28 the fundamental situation is then a tension between the “natural man” (the sinner) and a Christian, between sin and faith. anti-Climacus labels the natural condition of man in general the sickness unto death.29 anti-Climacus’ project30 is accordingly: to illuminate the nature of this sickness,31 to reveal the danger of its hiddenness,32 to establish its universality,33 concerning every individual of every generation, and finally locating it in the self, where it is situated.34 the sickness is a corruption of the original state of man as he or she was created by god.35 In Anti-Climacus’ anthropology, a human being is identified with the spirit and with the self.36 A human being is not a “thing” among other things but first of all an actual relation to oneself, a self-relation. this relation is a third aspect in a synthesis, a positive unity of two contradictory constitutional elements, of body– soul, of time–eternity, of finitude–infinitude, of freedom–necessity.37 a human self relates to these constituents as to its own, as to something belonging to the self (as in “i have a body”), but the self is not reducible to these constituents. the synthesis “rests” in this third; it is posited in this third, in the spirit (self).38

SKS 11, 117 / SUD, 5. see also SKS 11, 141 / SUD, 25. SKS 11, 141 / SUD, 25. 27 Cf. SKS 11, 132–3 / SUD, 16–17. 28 Cf. SKS 11, 137–8 / SUD, 21–3. the task of becoming a Christian, or “becoming and being a Christian” (for example, SKS 12, 183 / PC, 183, and elsewhere), or also “becoming and continuing to be a Christian” (SKS 12, 194 / PC, 196) is the explicit focal point of Practice in Christianity. 29 an unavoidable sickness of the self, despair. see SKS 11, 134 / SUD, 18; SKS 11, 136 / SUD, 21. 30 Cf. SKS 20, 365, nb4:160 / JP 5, 6137. 31 SKS 11, 123–5 / SUD, 7–9; SKS 11, 133–7 / SUD, 17–21. 32 Cf. SKS 11, 138–40 / SUD, 22–4; SKS 11, 143 / SUD, 27. 33 Cf. SKS 11, 139 / SUD, 23; SKS 11, 142 / SUD, 26; SKS 11, 161 / SUD, 45–6. 34 Cf. SKS 11, 132 / SUD, 16. 35 ibid. 36 Cf. SKS 11, 129–30 / SUD, 13–14. 37 anti-Climacus mentions all of the four constitutional pairs in The Sickness unto Death (SKS 11, 129 / SUD, 13), yet he only explicitly deals with the synthesis of finitude-infinitude and freedom-necessity. anti-Climacus refers to vigilius Haufniensis and his treatise The Concept of Anxiety, where the other two syntheses were examined (see especially SKS 4, 347–57 / CA, 41–6; SKS 4, 384–96 / CA, 81–93), also cf. SKS 5, 165 / EUD, 166; SKS 5, 170–1 / EUD, 172; SKS 15, 56 / JC, 169. 38 Cf. SKS 4, 353–4 / CA, 48–9. 25 26

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anti-Climacus maintains that the synthesis of a human being, as it was in its original state “from the hand of god,” was in the proper relationship.39 yet, and this is the actual sickness, the relationship has been corrupted, and the individual has lost “the equilibrium and rest.”40 as a result, “there is not one single living human being who does not despair a little, who does not secretly harbor an unrest, an inner strife, a disharmony, an anxiety about an unknown something.”41 such unrest or inner strife are symptoms of the profound corruption of the self and anti-Climacus labels this principal sickness of the self despair, despair is the sickness unto death.42 despair is a “misrelation in the relation that relates itself to itself,”43 a misrelation of the self, of the spirit. to despair is then “not to will to be oneself,”44 a strife with oneself, the inability to find rest and complete harmony of self-relation. Yet the self, as created, relates at the same time to the power that established it, to god.45 the misrelation is the result of the individual’s free action,46 an act of disobedience against the Creator, an act of defiance, of selfishness. In despair, an individual may not only “not want to be oneself,” to get rid of oneself, to re-create oneself through one’s powers to become someone else, but he or she may also become a despairing attempt at remaining the self one is—in spite of being conscious of one’s profound despair.47 anti-Climacus investigates the various forms of despair as they express the different misrelations between the constitutional elements of the synthesis,48 but he also presents an overview of the gradation in the consciousness of despair that an individual can achieve.49 an increase in the consciousness of despair equals to an increase in despair itself, ultimately becoming pure defiance, a demonical existence of “an error conscious of itself as an error” mutinying against its author.50 the other extreme of this scale is the state of spiritlessness,51 of complete oblivion of being a self in the spiritual sense, a state of ignorance, not conscious of despair, yet thus infinitely distant from overcoming the sickness.52

SKS 11, 131–2 / SUD, 16. SKS 11, 130 / SUD, 14. 41 SKS 11, 138 / SUD, 22. 42 SKS 11, 133–7 / SUD, 18–21. 43 SKS 11, 130 / SUD, 14. 44 Cf. SKS 11, 129–30 / SUD, 13–14. 45 ibid. 46 Cf. SKS 11, 132–3, 195 / SUD, 16–17, 81. 47 Cf. SKS 11, 129–30 / SUD, 13–14. 48 Between finitude and infinitude (see SKS 11, 146–51 / SUD, 29–35), and between possibility and necessity (see SKS 11, 151–7 / SUD, 35–42). 49 Cf. SKS 11, 157–87 / SUD, 42–74. 50 SKS 11, 187 / SUD, 74. 51 Cf. SKS 11, 157–62 / SUD, 42–7. 52 note that the sickness unto death is never to be understood as a felix culpa. see SKS 11, 117, / SUD, 5; SKS 11, 130–1 / SUD, 14–15; SKS 11, 142 / SUD, 26; SKS 11, 228 / SUD, 116. 39 40

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even though despair in all of its forms equals sin (be it conscious or not),53 Anti-Climacus reserves the notion of sin for a “qualified” action against the God, or “before God, or with the conception of God, in despair not to will to be oneself, or in despair to will to be oneself.”54 this distinction is grounded in the fact that “there has to be a revelation from god to show what sin is.”55 sin is not a category of thought, but it is paradoxical and can only be believed.56 sin is what anti-Climacus calls “ ‘aggravated’ despair.”57 an individual sins knowingly, and this is an action willingly ignoring or defying the truth that has been revealed to the individual by god. in the closing section of The Sickness unto Death, anti-Climacus deals with a special category of sin, offense, which is “the sin of despairing of the forgiveness of sins,”58 a refusal to accept Christ’s forgiveness. to summarize, anti-Climacus provides, in The Sickness unto Death, a halt, a call to attention, which makes it clear that every single individual (with the exception of a true Christian)59 stands as it were at a crossroads, in a state of crisis that must be answered. anti-Climacus, however, provides just an “algebraic” rendition of how to answer: “in relating itself to itself and in willing to be itself, the self rests transparently in the power that established it.”60 in one word, the answer to sin is faith. IV. Anti-Climacus and the Crossroads of Human Existence anti-Climacus is a “servant of the word…whose task it is, as far as a human being is capable of it, to draw people to [the Lord Jesus Christ].”61 anti-Climacus has provided an illumination of what is sin, retranslating thus the revealed Christian truth of the human condition. in Practice in Christianity, anti-Climacus understands that consciousness of sin, towards the achieving of which most of the efforts of The Sickness unto Death were directed, is the only admittance.62 there only is one narrow way how one might enter into Christianity: “through the consciousness of sin.”63 the consciousness of sin results in the individual’s acknowledging of the absolute difference between oneself (sinner) and Jesus Christ. the acknowledgment can only be brought about in faith since there is no immediate “evidence” of Christ being

Cf. SKS 11, 195–6 / SUD, 81–2. SKS 11, 191 / SUD, 77. 55 SKS 11, 202 / SUD, 89. 56 Cf. SKS 11, 209 / SUD, 96–7. 57 Cf. SKS 11, 203 /SUD, 90. 58 SKS 11, 227 / SUD, 116. 59 Cf. SKS 11, 138 / SUD, 22. 60 SKS 11, 242 / SUD, 131, cf. also SKS 11, 130 / SUD, 14; SKS 11, 164 / SUD, 49; SKS 11, 196 / SUD, 82. 61 SKS 12, 252 / PC, 262. 62 SKS 12, 80 / PC, 67–8. 63 SKS 12, 81 / PC, 68. 53 54

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god. in faith, an individual humbles oneself before the absolute, but at the same time discovers the possibility of offense. the possibility of offense is, in Practice in Christianity, the crucial Christian category. the possibility of offense is the principal condition of faith. anti-Climacus illustrates three principal forms of the possibility of offense. First, it is possible to take offense by the idea of Jesus Christ actually being at the same time god and a lowly human being,64 since such a conception is against all reason. there is either faith and then the individual believes this to be the truth, or there is offense. one might also be offended by the invitation, by Christ’s offer of rest and redemption. as a sinner, the individual might take offense at the possibility of a humanely inconceivable divine compassion offering forgiveness to everyone, to the worst of sinners. Lastly, an individual might take offense at the notion of Christ’s lowliness— even though one might believe that truly He is god.65 offense in general lies in the possibility of not wanting to or not being able to (which is essentially the same) believe in the truth of that which is paradoxical, absurd and against all reason; offense is a stumbling block in the way of becoming a Christian, and it is “exceedingly difficult…to become a Christian,” and “in order to become a believer [one] must have passed by the possibility of offense.”66 offense is, as anti-Climacus maintained in The Sickness unto Death, “the most decisive qualification of subjectivity, of the single individual, that is possible.”67 what becomes expressed in offense is the last negativity of an individual’s refusal to submit to the true authority of the Creator,68 of giving up the selfish clinging to oneself. there is a thread running through the works of anti-Climacus maintaining that the human condition is a continuous struggle of two different principles, of life and death, of innocence and sin, of faith and despair. a human existence arrives, inevitably, at a crossroads, “where the road of sin veers away from the hedge row of innocence,” or “where the way of sin turns more deeply into the sin.”69 at such a crossroads, there stands the invitation to find rest in Christ, and Anti-Climacus strives to provide a halt, to draw attention to this invitation. anti-Climacus’ project of existential illumination of the problem of Christianity proceeds, in the Practice in Christianity, in three steps: the first book deals with the problem of the absolute (difference), the second book (or Practice) establishes where the possibility of offense lies. but only then, in the third Practice, does antiClimacus address the problem of the actual Christian existence. anti-Climacus focuses on understanding Christian existence as an everyday struggle: “this life is the time of struggle, the time of testing.”70 Anti-Climacus stresses the difficulty Cf. SKS 12, 87 / PC, 75. see the a, b, C sections of the second Practice in Christianity (SKS 12, 94–114 / PC, 87–105). 66 SKS 12, 107 / PC, 99. 67 SKS 11, 233 / SUD, 122. 68 Cf. H.H.’s essay “the difference between a genius and an apostle” in SKS 11, 95– 111 / WA, 91–108. 69 SKS 12, 29 / PC, 18–19. 70 SKS 12, 207 / PC, 211. 64 65

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of becoming (and staying) a Christian and maintains, in the last Practice, “that unconditionally every true Christian is abased in this world.”71 abasement and the notion of a Christian as the true imitator of Christ express the individual’s relation to the absolute, to god. However, the absolute difference makes the individual completely dependent on the offer of forgiveness. the individual cannot achieve anything on his or her own, yet, in believing that everything is possible for the god, that He is love, thus having successfully passed the danger of taking offense at this offer, the individual asks for god’s mercy. anti-Climacus formulates this principal situation as the problem that it must be god, who offers to “draw all to himself.”72 what matters, is sola gratia, god’s grace. Once again, “he draws [a single individual] to himself along only one way: through the consciousness of sin.”73 not only so, for “if from on high he is to be able to draw the Christian to himself, there is much that must be forgotten, much that must be disregarded, much that must be died to.”74 anti-Climacus, in The Sickness unto Death as well as in the Practice in Christianity, separates two individual phases or stages of what is to be understood under “becoming a Christian.” initially, there is the first stage, which has the goal of becoming a spirit, realizing one’s individual existence under the spiritual qualification. An individual must first realize his or her freedom, re-take oneself, so to speak, so that out of freedom he or she might ask for God’s forgiveness. The first movement of becoming a spirit is then a precondition for the second, because Christ cannot draw to himself someone who refuses to be drawn.75 becoming a spirit is a struggle with despair in order to gain faith and commit oneself truly to become a Christian. anti-Climacus describes the movement like this: “However, to reach the truth, one must go through every negativity, for the old legend about breaking a certain magic spell is true: the piece has to be played through backwards or the spell is not broken.”76 it is a movement, as it were, backwards in the direction of regaining one’s lost good determination, a movement in the direction of being re-born in Christ: To become a child again, to become nothing, without any selfishness, to become a youth again…to disdain acting sagaciously, to will to be the youth, to will to preserve youth’s enthusiasm, rescued in all its original character, to will to struggle to the end…—yes, that is the task.77

there is, according to anti-Climacus, “no direct transition to becoming a Christian,”78 becoming a Christian is not something that “happens” to the individual, but it is a movement of freedom, of the will. anti-Climacus, as a servant of the word, can at 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78

SKS 22, 355, nb14:19 / JP 6, 6528. John 12:32. see SKS 12, 155–6 / PC, 151. SKS 12, 159 / PC, 155. SKS 12, 156 / PC, 152. Cf. SKS 12, 163–4 / PC, 159–60. SKS 11, 159 / SUD, 44. SKS 12, 191 / PC, 192. SKS 12, 104 / PC, 96 (author’s emphasis).

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most help in making people aware of the situation and help them understand it, but the transition is ultimately dependent upon the individual—whether he or she wants to or not.79 in becoming a Christian, the individual relates to Christ as the prototype, but not in his loftiness, but in his abasement and lowliness. a Christian is not an admirer, but an imitator, who “is or strives to be what he admires.”80 It is a selfless relation to the absolute, to the truth, an imperfect relation of a sinner: [H]e who from on high will draw all to himself draws a person to himself in such a way that this person becomes and continues to be a Christian; but this Christian is here in the world, and therefore it is his loftiness, the loftiness of him who draws, that is depicted in this Christian’s abasement.81

the movement of overcoming one’s attempts at becoming a master of oneself, a selfish, independent, defiant existence against God is completed in the abasement of a Christian, in his courage to “lose [oneself] in order to win [oneself].”82 V. Anti-Climacus contra Official Christendom anti-Climacus assumed a standpoint of a committed Christian,83 whereby he gained access to directly attacking the situation of the contemporary Christendom.84 this attack upon Christendom, or upon the official Christianity, or also established order, an attack that made bishop mynster furious,85 proclaimed official Christianity to be “untruth, the worst tragedy that can befall the Church,”86 a “deification of the established order [which] is the secularization of everything,”87 even of the relationship with god. in this situation being a Christian is identical to being human, and everyone is a Christian. anti-Climacus understands this as a situation of the “triumphant church,”88 that has established itself after having to struggle with the established order, after a period of persecution. yet this is just an illusion and untruth, and “to be a Christian is to believe in Christ and to suffer for the sake of this belief, or…to be a Christian is self-denial in the Christian sense.”89 a true Christian strives to imitate Christ, yet Cf. SKS 11, 163 / SUD, 48; SKS 11, 177 / SUD, 63; SKS 11, 203 / SUD, 90; SKS 11, 205–7 / SUD, 93–5; SKS 12, 186 / PC, 186–7. 80 SKS 12, 234 / PC, 241 (my emphasis). 81 SKS 12, 197 / PC, 198–9. 82 SKS 11, 181 / SUD, 67. 83 Cf. SKS 12, 239–40 / PC, 236. 84 Cf. SKS 28, 441, brev 286 / LD, 298–9, Letter 213, and further SKS 24, 126, nb22:42 / JP 3, 2958; SKS 22, 138–9, nb11:228 / JP 6, 6442; SKS 24, 94, nb21:153 / JP 6, 6699. see also SKS 24, 69, nb21:113 / JP 6, 6690. 85 SKS 24, 72, nb21:121 / JP 6, 6691. 86 SKS 12, 226 / PC, 232. 87 SKS 12, 99 / PC, 91. 88 Cf. SKS 12, 198–226 / PC, 201–32. 89 SKS 12, 220 / PC, 225. 79

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to imitate Christ is to imitate him in his abasement not to adore his loftiness. Official Christendom turned Christianity into formality, deprived it of inwardness, and, in fact, abolished it. in conclusion, we have followed the works of Kierkegaard’s pseudonym antiClimacus as they accomplished a dual movement of first providing a halt, of making a person aware, and illuminating to him or her the human condition of sinfulness. second, in anti-Climacus’ exposition, this halt comes at a crossroads with one way turning more deeply into the sin and the other way demanding the individual to become a Christian. anti-Climacus depicts the Christian existence as a task of expressing the absolute difference from god, a difference so inconceivable that it presents itself to the individual as a possibility of offense. a Christian must struggle with this possibility in order to believe in his or her own sinfulness and at the same time accept the invitation to find rest with Jesus Christ. Christian existence is then a continuous striving to remain a Christian, in abasement and in lowliness, in selfdenial. anti-Climacus presents an anthropological perspective of the human being as a spirit, a perspective that necessarily only accounts for the forms of despair such existence experiences or suffers from. this negative perspective of the various manifestations of sin in mankind is ultimately grounded in anti-Climacus’ theological perspective, in his upbuilding effort to help the reader positively find his or her way towards becoming a Christian, towards finding the only cure to the sickness unto death—faith. “Here we shall end these expositions, leaving it to each one whether he wants to read, leaving it to the reader how, with regard to inward deepening, he will apply to himself what is read.”90

90

SKS 12, 251 / PC, 260.

bibliography burns, michael o’neill, “self and society in Kierkegaard’s anti-Climacus writings,” Heythrop Journal, vol. 51, 2010, pp. 625–35. Cappelørn, niels Jørgen, “gennem fortvivlelse og forargelse til troen, eller det religiøse og kristelige stadium ifølge Climacus og anti-Climacus,” in Studier i Stadier. Søren Kierkegaard Selskabets 50-års Jubilæum, ed. by Joakim garff, tonny aagaard olesen, and Pia søltoft, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1998, pp. 136–52. de la torre barranco, marco antonio, El concepto de la ética en los pseudónimos Kierkegaardianos Johannes de Silentio y Anti-Climacus, méxico City: universidad Panamericana 2002. dunning, stephen n., “the dialectical structure of Consciousness: the antiClimacus writings,” in Søren Kierkegaard: Critical Assessments of Leading Philosophers, ed. by daniel Conway, and K.e. gover, vols. 1–4, London and new york: taylor and Francis 2002, vol. 2, pp. 59–71. elrod, John w., “Climacus, anti-Climacus and the Problem of suffering,” Thought, vol. 55, no. 218, 1980, pp. 306–19. Herrera guevara, asunción, “La creencia en Kierkegaard, Johannes de silentio y anti-Climacus,” Teorema, vol. 22, no. 3, 2003, pp. 101–14. Holm, Kjeld, “Anti-Climacus og Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard-Pseudonymitet, ed. by birgit bertung, Paul müller, and Fritz norlan, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1993 (Søren-Kierkegaard-Selskabets populære skrifter, vol. 21), pp. 46–54. Lübcke, Poul, “vigilius Haufniensis, anti-Climacus og ‘den egentlige Kierkegaard,’ ” Filosofiske Studier, vol. 15, 1995, pp. 147–69. malantschuk, gregor, Kierkegaard’s Thought, trans. by Howard H. Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1971, see pp. 334–56. marino, gordon d., “anti-Climacus and the anatomy of self-deception,” in Graduate Faculty Philosophy Journal, vol. 32, issue 2, 2011, pp. 363–70. mehl, Peter J., Thinking through Kierkegaard: Existential Identity in a Pluralistic World, Champaign: university of illinois Press 2005, see Chapter 3, “antiClimacus: theological selfhood and the dialectics of despair,” pp. 78–118. Perkins, robert L., “Kierkegaard’s anti-Climacus in his social and Political environment,” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: macon university Press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), pp. 275–302. Pizzuti, giuseppe m., “anti-Climacus: dialettica e struttura dell’ultimo pseudonimo di Kierkegaard,” Annuario filosofico, vol. 11, 1995, pp. 225–70.

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Possen, david d., “anti-Climacus and the ‘Physician of souls,’ ” in Kierkegaard and the Word(s): Essays on Hermeneutics and Communication, ed. by Poul Houe and gordon d. marino, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 2003, pp. 105–15. — “the works of anti-Climacus” in Practice in Christianity, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: macon university Press 2004 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 20), pp. 187–209. verstrynge, Karl, “ ‘anxiety as innocence’: between vigilius Haufniensis and antiClimacus,” in Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2001, pp. 141–57.

Constantin Constantius: the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner gabriel guedes rossatti

The title of this article demands some clarification: it is a literal repetition of the title of an article published by a “fellow” of Constantin Constantius, Frater taciturnus,1 and as such it does have a relation to the former’s life and times, albeit with some minor qualifications. For Constantin Constantius is not exactly a travelling esthetician—although one cannot deny that he is also that—but rather a vagrant esthetician, which is the same as saying that he is a flâneur. although, this latter aspect should come with a major qualification, namely, that he is, in contrast to most of his nineteenth-century kindred, a consciously socratic flâneur. apart from that, not only did he “happen to pay for the dinner,” a most curious one, which took place on the outskirts of Copenhagen on a summer evening, but, more specifically, as a man of refined taste, as a dandy, he also organized it. Thus, one could say that Constantin Constantius is, fundamentally, a socratic-ironic dandyflâneur or, in one single word, an experimenter.2 but before going into that, a brief look at the story of Constantin Constantius in the works of Kierkegaard is necessary. Constantin Constantius is first and foremost the pseudonymous author and narrator of Repetition. However, apart from that work, he also authored a couple of unpublished replies to Johan Ludvig Heiberg’s critical comments on the abovementioned novel.3 He, moreover, appears as a character and more particularly in see SKS 14, 79–84 / COR, 38–46. one could add writer to this characterization, were it not for the fact that the term flâneur already presupposes authorship, as walter benjamin stressed (see walter benjamin, “the Paris of the second empire in baudelaire,” in The Writer of Modern Life, trans. by Harry zohn, Cambridge, massachusetts, and London: the belknap Press of Harvard university Press 2006, pp. 72ff.). It is also true that the figure of the flâneur presupposes as well the figure of the dandy (although they are by no means equal; on this see section iii below), and that socratism implies irony (although, once again, they are by no means exact or necessary synonyms); in any event, such redundancies, i think, help to underscore the different elements which compose the character or pseudonym Constantin Constantius, and as such they have been kept. 3 see SKS 15, 61–88 / R, supplement, pp. 283–324. but since this article is concerned foremost with the personality of Constantin Constantius, i will not dwell with such unpublished 1 2

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the role of the host of the banquet, which takes place in the first part of Stages on Life’s Way, entitled “in vino veritas.”4 For all this, Constantin Constantius is one of the richest and most complex of either the pseudonymous authors or the characters ever created by Kierkegaard; indeed, he is quite likely one of the very few pseudonyms to have a reasonable amount of (somewhat concrete) details concerning his private life disclosed, such as the fact that he may have been a person from the countryside since he twice refers to his “father’s farm.”5 He also makes fleeting comments upon his age (although the information on this aspect is contradictory),6 his former employments or occupations,7 the likely sources of his income,8 the facts that he had at his disposal different servants,9 and that he might suffer from insomnia,10 as well as the symbol he chooses for himself and which later would become closely associated with Kierkegaard himself, namely, the “stagecoach horn.”11 in sum, for all this Constantin Constantius seems to be one of the most real, concrete, and better executed pseudonyms created by Kierkegaard. in the original manuscript of Repetition, produced during Kierkegaard’s second sojourn in berlin in may 1843, he was supposed to be called “victorinus Constantinus de bona speranza,” a name which was eventually altered to “Constantin [deleted: Walter] Constantius.”12 When the work finally appeared on october 16, 1843, it bore as its title the following words: “repetition: a venture in experimenting Psychology by Constantin Constantius.”13 the original formulation, “victorinus Constantinus de bona speranza,” is, in fact, quite interesting because in it resonates not only the name of the cape which lies to the south of Cape Town in South Africa, but more specifically the process which the first rounding of it presupposes. The first Portuguese navigator to have rounded it, Bartolomeu Dias, first named it, in 1488, the “Cape of Tempests” [Cabo das Tormentas]. Later, after his return to Portugal, the King João II had it re-named Cabo da Boa Esperança, that is, “Cape of good Hope,” for it had replies since they do not reveal as much about Constantin Constantius as do Repetition and “in vino veritas.” other than that, since the persona of Constantin Constantius seems to either evolve or to be treated differently between Repetition and “in vino veritas,” i have decided to give him a diachronic interpretation in order to highlight such differences and the incongruence between the two main portraits that Kierkegaard presents. 4 see SKS 6, 15–84 / SLW, 7–86. 5 SKS 4, 40 / R, 166. 6 Cf. SKS 4, 43 / R, 169; SKS 4, 83 / R, 216. 7 see SKS 4, 32 / R, 156–7. 8 see SKS 4, 13 / R, 135. 9 see SKS 4, 24 / R, 148; SKS 4, 42 / R, 167–8; SKS 4, 45 / R, 171; SKS 4, 49 / R, 175; SKS 4, 24 / R, 148; SKS 4, 50 / R, 179. 10 see SKS 4, 42 / R, 167–8. 11 SKS 4, 48 / R, 175. 12 Pap. iv b 97:1 / R, supplement, p. 276. 13 see SKS 4, 7 / R, 125. it should be stressed that Repetition was published on the same day as Fear and Trembling, signed by the pseudonymous author Johannes de silentio, as well as Three Upbuilding Discourses, signed by s. Kierkegaard.

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proved to be a feasible route to the indian ocean and, therefore, to india.14 in other words, the first formulation of what would be Constantin Constantius’ name brings together the idea of navigation with the concept of faith as formulated by Christianity. with this one therefore arrives at the idea of a two-stage navigation, the first replete with tribulations and the second a navigation in safer waters whose final destination is the native port. Such allusions are, moreover, somewhat confirmed or further suggested by Constantin Constantius himself, when he, a couple of paragraphs after the opening remarks of Repetition, mentions the fact that, according to his life-view,15 when existence has been circumnavigated [omseilet], it will be manifest whether one has the courage to understand that life is a repetition and has the desire to rejoice in it. the person who has not circumnavigated life before beginning to live will never live; the person who circumnavigated it but became satiated had a poor constitution; the person who chose repetition—he lives.16

The final formulation of the name, Constantin Constantius, which has repetition inscribed within itself,17 contains rather stoic accents, for it refers to the virtue of “Constantia,” that is, to “unchangeableness,” “constancy of character,”18 as well as “persistence.”19 now it remains to be seen whether Constantin Constantius’ name keeps the promise of its double constancy or persistence. see Pierre Chaunu, L’Expansion Européenne du XIIIe au XVe siècle, Paris: Presses universitaires de France 1969, pp. 157–60. 15 For as Kierkegaard says elsewhere, “if we ask how such a life-view is brought about, then we answer that for the one who does not allow his life to fizzle out too much but seeks as far as possible to lead its single expressions back to himself again, there must necessarily come a moment in which a strange light spreads over life without one’s therefore even remotely needing to have understood all possible particulars, to the progressive understanding of which, however, one now has the key. there must come a moment…when…life is understood backward through the idea….For a life-view is more than a quintessence or a sum of propositions maintained in its abstract neutrality; it is more than experience, which as such is always fragmentary. it is, namely, the transubstantiation of experience.” (SKS 1, 32–3 / EPW, 76–8 (my emphasis)). 16 SKS 4, 10 / R, 132. not only the very structure of Repetition, with its two parts, with the first one centered on Constantin Constantius and the second one on the “young man,” seems to reflect such circumnavigation, but also certain passages and more specifically analogies in the work confirm the pattern of (the concept of) repetition exactly as a two-part navigation divided between a time of tempests and a time in which one is supposed to reach “a stillness like the deep silence from the south seas” (SKS 4, 88 / R, 221 (translation slightly modified); see also SKS 4, 79–81 / R, 212–14; SKS 4, 87 / R, 220). 17 see Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton and oxford: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 233. 18 see SKS K4, 31, see the commentary to p. 7, line 4. 19 see Julia watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001, p. 402. Louis mackey also mentions that it could, “out of a hundred possible translations,” be translated as “steadfast self-possession,” but i sincerely cannot see how the latter term in his name contains a hint to anything resembling “self14

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I. The Activity of a Travelling Esthetician the opening lines of Repetition serve as an invaluable introduction to the world of Constantin Constantius and for this reason need to be quoted rather extensively: when the eleatics denied motion, diogenes, as everyone knows, came forward as an opponent. He literally did come forward, because he did not say a word but merely paced back and forth a few times, thereby assuming that he had sufficiently refuted them. when i was occupied for some time, at least on occasion, with the problem of repetition—whether or not it is possible, what importance it has, whether something gains or loses in being repeated—i suddenly had the thought: you can, after all, take a trip to berlin; you have been there once before, and now you can prove to yourself whether a repetition is possible and what importance it has. at home i had been practically immobilized by this question. say what you will, this question will play a very important role in modern philosophy, for repetition is a crucial expression for what “recollection” was to the greeks.20

So the very first thing one discovers about Constantin Constantius is the fact that he is a kind of philosopher, who, moreover, addresses himself through writing to other philosophers, as the expression “as everyone knows” indicates. Furthermore, since he is at his home, one can assume he is not a professional philosopher, that is, a philosopher who postures “on a cathedra”21 at some university, but rather a “private thinker,”22 who has the time, the leisure as well as the material means to contemplate problems such as the possibility or impossibility of repetition, even if they require him to take a self-financed trip to Berlin to sort out such matters. These opening remarks lead one then to understand that Constantin Constantius is an experimental philosopher or, as the subtitle puts it, an experimental psychologist, who is conversant with both greek and modern philosophy, not to mention speculative philosophy.23 The latter, which Constantin Constantius himself specifies as “Hegelian philosophy,” is characterized by him as “foolish talk” on account of its lack of explanation as to “how mediation takes place, whether it results from the motion of the two factors and in what sense it is already contained in them, or whether it is something new that is added, and, if so, how.”24 Constantin Constantius finds fault with Hegel’s system because of its supposed elimination of the voluntarist or free element in its explanation of movement.25 Consequently, he implies that mediation is a surrogate for real movement and, possession” (see Louis mackey, “some versions of the esthete: either/or and the others,” in his Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, p. 22). 20 SKS 4, 9 / R, 131. 21 see SKS 4, 57 / R, 186 (translation slightly modified). 22 Ibid. (translation slightly modified). 23 on the notion of “experimenting psychology,” see SKS K4, 31, see the commentary to p. 7, line 2 as well as R, explanatory notes, 357ff. 24 SKS 4, 25 / R, 149. 25 on Constantin Constantius’ concept of “repetition” as an alternative to Hegel’s “mediation,” see Jon stewart, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 292ff.

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consequently, for life. this then means that there is another dimension to Constantin Constantius’ conception of philosophy, which he does not see in Hegelian philosophy. Constantius has his own metaphysical interests, which are not entirely metaphysical, and here it should be stressed that he actually mentions almost having come to a physical standstill as an effect of his quest concerning the matter of repetition,26 which is another way of saying that for him philosophy is a way of life. apart from these metaphysical interests, he first and foremost has a quite distinctive interest in existing human beings or in existence tout court. thus, Constantin Constantius is, in the full sense of the word, a socratic philosopher-psychologist, for he subscribes to a notion—if not more correctly to a praxis27—of philosophy which is best described either as greek in its more general aspects or effectively socratic in terms of its concepts. in this sense, it should be stressed that Repetition features, apart from the narrator Constantin Constantius, the character of the “young man,” whose first appearance in the book has to be quoted because of the double-entendres it contains and because of the allusions to Plato’s Symposium, which is a meditation on ancient greek eroticism: about a year ago, i became very much aware of a young man (with whom i had already often been in contact [hvem jeg tilforn allerede ofte havde berørt]), because his handsome appearance, the soulful expression of his eyes, had an almost alluring effect upon me….through casual coffee-shop associations, i had already attracted him to me and taught him to regard me as a confidant whose conversation in many ways lured forth his melancholy in refracted form, since i, like a Farinelli, enticed the deranged king out of his dark hiding place, something that could be done without using tongs, inasmuch as my friend was still young and pliant. such was our relationship when, about a year ago, as i said, he came to me, quite beside himself.28

the young man, as the rest of the story has it, was “quite beside himself” on account of his melancholic disposition in the context of a love affair. thus, being utterly shy and as such, lacking “ironic resiliency,”29 he supposedly felt the need for someone to help him out of such a situation, in this case, Constantin Constantius. in any event, what is astonishing in this passage is the faithful description, containing echoes from Plato’s Symposium, of a pederastic relationship, paiderastía (παιδεραστία), meaning literally “love of boys.”30 as seen in the passage just quoted, the older man, Constantin Constantius in this case, describes the quite serious (ret for Alvor) first

SKS 4, 9 / R, 131. this is exactly the word he uses in danish [sic]; see SKS 4, 13 / R, 136. 28 SKS 4, 11–12 / R, 133–4. 29 SKS 4, 15 / R, 137. 30 in the middle of the passage just quoted Constantin Constantius actually reveals that the young man “was at the captivating age in which spiritual maturity, just like physical maturity at a far earlier age, announces itself by a frequent breaking of the voice” (SKS 4, 11 / R, 133 (my emphasis)). 26 27

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impressions caused by the sudden appearance of a beautiful and pliant young man, whose soulful expression tempted him to the point of his having, literally, berørt, that is, touched the young man.31 as in a friendship in ancient greece between males, Constantin Constantius also claims that the young man looked for him—although he does not use the following word—as a θεραπευτήρ, that is, as a therapeutic server or care-taker, for, as he comments elsewhere, “he confided that the reason for his visit to me was that he needed a confidant in whose presence he could talk aloud to himself.”32 in other words, both the erotic and the philosophical-therapeutic aspects of their relationship, with the latter having a decided socratic-stoic,33 not to mention a decidedly avant la lettre Freudian bent to it,34 more than confirm the pederastic notwithstanding the commentary to this passage in the SKS edition of Repetition, which renders the verb at berøre as “to come across, to associate with” (see SKS K4, 34, commentary to p. 11, line 22). now, if one assumes the verb to mean what it says—and it is symptomatic that the editors of this edition felt the need to clarify the meaning of that verb—this means that Kierkegaard is probably one of the first modern writers to have portrayed somewhat unambiguously what we would call today an “homosexual relationship” in a novel. 32 SKS 4, 12–13 / R, 135. 33 For if on the one hand Constantin Constantius literally gets to define himself as a stoic on the margin of a draft (see Pap. iv b 117 / R, supplement, 320), on the other hand he may also choose a self-definition in which the Socratic element is more pronounced, as when he defines himself precisely as one who has “trained oneself everyday for years to have only an objective theoretical interest in people and also, if possible, in everyone in whom the idea is in motion” (SKS 4, 51 / R, 180 (translation slightly modified)). 34 In the first letter that the young man writes to Constantin Constantius, he actually mentions the “demonic power” with which the latter controlled him, not without adding, though, that “[t]here is something indescribably salutary and alleviating in talking with you, for it seems as if one were talking with oneself or with an idea” (SKS 4, 58 / R, 188). indeed, parts of this letter constitute an astonishing anticipation on Kierkegaard’s part of what would be later termed in psychoanalytical terms “transference,” for the young man accuses his mentor Constantin Constantius: “you hold me captive with an indescribable power, and this same power makes me anxious; thus i do admire you, and yet at times i believe that you are mentally disordered” (SKS 4, 59 / R, 189). More specifically, the young man actually criticizes Constantin Constantius’ προσοχή, that is, the fundamental attitude of the stoic in which one is supposed to have a self-consciousness always awake in a constant tension of the spirit: “is it not, in fact, a kind of mental disorder to have subjugated to such a degree every passion, every emotion, every mood under the cold regiment of reflection! is it not mental disorder to be normal in this way—pure idea, not a human being like the rest of us….is it not mental disorder always to be alert like this, always conscious, never vague and dreamy! …You have a demonic power…for you grasp the finest nuances better than the person himself” (SKS 4, 58–9 / R, 188–9; on the stoic theme of the προσοχή see Pierre Hadot, “exercices spirituels,” in Exercices spirituels et philosophie antique, Paris: albin michel 2002, pp. 26ff.) thus, notwithstanding the veritable modernism—by which i mean the ironic à la schlegel structure—of the novel, its characters, at least, seem to point rather to the past than to the future, for such pairing presupposes a recurrent pattern particularly present in many works of both ancient and modern philosophers known as “moralists.” From Socrates to Galen, passing through Gracián to Kierkegaard and beyond, one of the presuppositions of what Hadot termed spiritual exercises is the pairing of an old man with a newcomer, which, as he puts it, “is the whole domain of spiritual direction” (see 31

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character of their friendship,35 which then makes Constantin Constantius, literally, a pederast. thus the novel has its basic structure and plot in place: Constantin Constantius seeks to help his younger friend to get rid of his anxiety and depression, his melancholy, in a word, but curiously through what Kierkegaard would later term modarbejde,36 that is, through mystifications, “to make oneself out a scoundrel, a deceiver.”37 So Constantin Constantius, the cold, reflective, misogynist,38 sexist—or romantic, on account of his sheer idealization of women39—and cynical observer (for he confesses relating to people as a rule precisely as that),40 urges the young man to “venture the utmost.”41 by this he meant the actualization of a carefully crafted “evil” plan devised by himself and which had as its goal the alienation of the young man’s beloved,42 all this because he could no longer stand the sufferings his young friend was experiencing in his strange love affair. in this sense, then, Constantin Constantius can be seen as an esthete in the vein of either “a” or “Johannes the seducer” from Either/Or, a point which he himself makes in the following terms: “it is often distressing to be an observer—it has the same melancholy effect as being a police officer. And when an observer fulfills his duties well, he is to be regarded as a secret agent in a higher service, for the observer’s art is to expose what is hidden.”43 in other words, he discloses himself as being something of a detective, a police

Hadot, “exercices spirituels,” p. 30, note 5; see also Louis van delft, Les Moralistes. Une apologie, Paris: gallimard 2008, pp. 109ff.; unless acknowledged, all of the translations are my own). 35 in fact, both Constantin Constantius and the young man acknowledge that most of their meetings happened in deserted places, such as the fishery at the town moat (see SKS 4, 14 / R, 136–7; SKS 4, 17 / R, 139–40; SKS 4, 60 / R, 190). 36 see SKS 16, 39ff. / PV, 58ff. 37 SKS 4, 59 / R, 190. 38 this is an aspect of his personality which cannot in any sense be neglected; see section iii below as well as SKS 4, 41 / R, 167; SKS 4, 85 / R, 218. 39 see SKS 4, 15 / R, 138; SKS 4, 19–21 / R, 141–4; SKS 4, 23–4 / R, 147; SKS 4, 41–2 / R, 166–7; SKS 4, 53 / R, 183; SKS 4, 83–4 / R, 216–18. 40 SKS 4, 12 / R, 134. in fact, elsewhere he claims to “ask nothing of men but the substance of their consciousness” (SKS 4, 54 / R, 183). 41 SKS 4, 19 / R, 142. 42 For as Constantin Constantius advises the young man, “burn all your bridges. transform yourself into a contemptible person whose only delight is to trick and to deceive…. be inconstant, nonsensical; do one thing one day and another the next, but without passion…. in place of all love’s delight, show a certain cloying quasi love that is neither indifference nor desire; let your conduct be just as unpleasant as it is to watch a person drool….when all this is in process, then just come to me, and i will take care of the rest. spread the rumor that you are having a new love affair….i will pick out a local girl and make an arrangement with her” (SKS 4, 19–20 / R, 142–3). it goes without saying that Kierkegaard had himself practiced a similar method of alienation in order to wrench himself from his fiancée Regine Olsen; see garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, pp. 185ff. 43 SKS 4, 12 / R, 135.

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officer or secret agent armed, moreover, with a telescope;44 he is, in one word, a flâneur,45 and, as such, a vagrant esthetician.46 and it is precisely as a flâneur that Constantin Constantius, after being abandoned by the “young man,” who had in the interim disappeared, embarks on a trip to berlin in order to ascertain empirically whether repetition was possible or not—only to find that it was not possible.47 there follows then in his narrative a long excursus produced out of this experimental trip.48 Here he has a chance to develop his esthetic views mainly around theater topics such as its magical character,49 the sociological “division” of a public and the consequent differentiation of the effect of a farce according to such standards,50 the best cast for the presentation of a farce,51 the art of observation of people in their boxes,52 in sum, Constantin Constantius delivers rambling thoughts concerning the theater in its general aspects. However, beyond what could be called his “esthetics of the theater,” Constantin Constantius in this same excursus also mentions the frequenting of necessary loci for a flâneur, namely, apart from the theater, cafés, restaurants,53 as well as, quite obviously, the streets themselves and some of their “notable sights.”54 since he was in berlin, one of these streets was (and still is) the avenue unter den Linden, which, nevertheless, on account of its excess of dust, made “every attempt to mingle with people and thus take a human bath…extremely disappointing.”55 but apart from such rambling see SKS 4, 21 / R, 144. walter benjamin, as said before, not only stresses that the flâneur is by nature a writer or poet, but also that such figure presupposes yet another one, namely, the figure of either the detective or the police (or still the secret) agent, all of this, then, leading to the fact that the flâneur has an indissoluble kinship with the incognito. this connection had already been stated by baudelaire (see Charles baudelaire, “Le Peintre de la vie moderne,” in his Œuvres Complètes, vols. 1–2, ed. by Claude Pichois, Paris: gallimard 1976, vol. 2, pp. 691–2; see also benjamin, “the Paris of the second empire in baudelaire,” pp. 72ff.). thus Kierkegaard would, in The Point of View, proudly argue that “[i]f Copenhagen was ever of one single opinion about someone, i dare say it has been of one opinion about me: i was a street-corner loafer, an idler, a flâneur…” He continues, “if you people only knew what it is you are laughing at, if you only knew with whom you are involved, who this flâneur is!” (SKS 16, 42 / PV, 61; SKS 16, 44 / PV, 63). 46 in what regards my understanding of “vagrant estheticism,” which is just another name for flânerie, see particularly the lines from Charles dickens as quoted by michael slater, “introduction,” in Charles dickens, Dickens’ Journalism: Sketches by Boz and other Early Papers, 1833–1839, ed. by michael slater, London: Phoenix giants 1996, pp. xvi–xvii. 47 see SKS 4, 43ff. / R, 169ff. 48 see SKS 4, 26–44 / R, 150–71. 49 see SKS 4, 30–4 / R, 154–8. 50 see SKS 4, 34–5 / R, 158–61. 51 see SKS 4, 36–9 / R, 161–5. 52 see SKS 4, 41–2 / R, 166–8. 53 see SKS 4, 43–4 / R, 169–70. 54 SKS 4, 29 / R, 153. 55 SKS 4, 44 / R, 170. it should be mentioned that baudelaire would use exactly the same phrase, bain de multitude, in his case, to refer to the flâneur’s relationship with the crowd (see Charles baudelaire, “Le spleen de Paris,” in his Œuvres Complètes, vol. 1, p. 291). 44 45

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esthetic thoughts, Constantin Constantius’ aesthetics is also developed under quite a different mode, for towards the very end of Repetition he actually confesses having brought to life, through an act of “ventriloquism,” his very “friend,” that is, none other than the “young man.”56 so Constantin Constantius now claims concerning his literary aesthetics: a poet is ordinarily an exception. People are usually pleased with someone like that and with his compositions. i thought, therefore, that for me it might be well worth the trouble to bring someone like that into being. the young man i have brought into being is a poet. i can do no more, for the most i can do is to imagine a poet and to produce him by my thought. i myself cannot become a poet, and in any case my interest lies elsewhere. my task has engaged me purely esthetically and psychologically. i have put myself into it, but if you look more carefully, my dear reader, you will readily see that i am only a ministering spirit.57

the problem, though, is that this is only part of the truth, for a bit later Constantin Constantius rushes in with another surprising—as well as utterly dubious, to say the least—revelation, namely, the fact that he is “a vanishing person [Person], just like a midwife in relation to the child she has delivered.”58 The difficulty this time lies in the substantive Person, which in danish can mean both “person” and “character.” thus, Constantin Constantius claims not to be capable of being a poet, and, nonetheless, he creates a “real character,” and, worse than that, he may even conceive of himself as being a character that creates other characters! in this sense, he is an experimenter,59 which is the same as saying that he is a romantic ironist in the manner of what many—Kierkegaard himself among them—took to be Fichte’s conception of a sich setzendes Ich,60 that is, a “self-positing ego” who is able to create worlds and characters, if not “real life,” somehow.61 see SKS 4, 93ff. / R, 228ff. SKS 4, 93–4 / R, 228. 58 SKS 4, 96 / R, 230. 59 Kierkegaard’s conception of Experiment, translated in english as “imaginary psychological construction,” is more thoroughly treated in Frater taciturnus’ “Letter to the reader” (see SKS 6, 369–454 / SLW, 398–494), who also confesses being the creator of characters, and, in this sense, he confesses that “[t]he reader who has read Constantin Constantius’ little book will see that i have a certain resemblance to that author” (SKS 6, 404 / SLW, 437). 60 see Johann gottlieb Fichte, “grundlage der gesamten wissenschaftslehre,” in his Werke, vols. 1–2, ed. by wilhelm g. Jacobs and Peter Lothar oesterreich, Frankfurt am main: deutscher Klassiker verlag 1997, vol. 1, Schriften zur Wissenschaftslehre, p. 71. 61 For as Kierkegaard himself had written on his dissertation on irony, “in Fichte, subjectivity became free, infinite, negative….This Fichtean principle that subjectivity, the I, has constitutive validity, is the sole omnipotence, was grasped by schlegel and tieck, and on that basis they operated in the world….but the closer such poetizing comes to actuality, the more it becomes intelligible only through a break with reality….then it is no longer the poetic license that like Münchhausen collars itself and in this way, without any footing, floating in the air, makes one somersault stranger than another. It is no longer poetry’s pantheistic infinity, but it is the finite subject, who applies the ironic lever in order to tip all existence out of its fixed consolidation. Now all existence becomes just a game for the poetizing arbitrariness that 56 57

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in other words, one suddenly realizes that not only is there no “young man,” but also that there might not even be, in the end, a narrator called Constantin Constantius, for he indeed manages, and this right in front a public of only one,62 to dismantle or deconstruct his own literary authority, consequently ruining his purported “constancy,” at least in one sense; for in another sense he can definitely be said to stick to his ironical constancy. Repetition, consequently, ends up revealing itself as a meta-literary labyrinth in which there is no foothold for the reader to stand upon once its own guarantor discloses himself as an ironical saboteur. yet he would make a spectacular comeback a couple of years later and, what is even crazier, alongside none other than the very character he claims to have created, the “young man,”63 and all of this in a narrative or rather in a recollection related by yet another writer, this time named william afham.64 this narrative, entitled “in vino veritas,” is actually the place in which Constantius’ more dandyish, as well as misogynist, side would come to the fore. this is also where the story is told concerning the fact that he still happened to pay for a dinner which took place in the outskirts of Copenhagen supposedly a few years after he and the “young man” had met. II. And How He Still Happened to Pay for the Dinner That Constantin Constantius is also a dandy in the full-fledged sense of the word65 is already clear in Repetition. both before and after his experimental trip to berlin rejects nothing….in this respect, one need only read the list of characters in a play by tieck or by any other of the romantic poets to gain a notion of the unheard-of and highly improbable things that take place in their poet-world. animals talk like human beings, human beings talk like asses, chairs and tables become conscious of their meaning in existence, human beings find existence meaningless. Nothing becomes everything, and everything becomes nothing; everything is possible, even the impossible; everything is probable, even the improbable” (SKS 1, 311 / CI, 275; SKS 1, 335–6 / CI, 302–3). 62 see SKS 4, 91 / R, 225. 63 Kierkegaard repeats the name of the character as “young man,” but, as will be seen below, this latter one might not be the same “young man” from Repetition (in this sense, see mackey, “some versions of the esthete: either/or and the others,” p. 33). in any event, there is no disclaimer on Kierkegaard’s part regarding such inconsistency. 64 afham, very much like Constantin Constantius, would also leave open question of the truth of his narrative; see SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 15; SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. 65 if, on the one hand, it is not exactly easy to extricate the dandy from the flâneur and vice versa, on the other, there seems to be involved in dandyism a more general ethics than the mere presupposition of the education of the gaze which constitutes the foundation of flânerie; in fact, a sign of such indistinction is baudelaire’s comprehension of movement as inscribed in both phenomena or figures (see Baudelaire, “Le Peintre de la vie moderne,” in his Œuvres Complètes, vol. 2, p. 709). in this sense, it should be mentioned that Constantin Constantius himself seems to do the same once he selects the post horn as his symbol: “Praised be the post horn! it is my symbol. Just as the ancient ascetics placed a skull on the table…so the post horn on my table always reminds me of the meaning of life….everything is to remind me of that: my servant will be dressed as a postilion, and i myself will not drive to a dinner party except by special coach [Extrapost]” (SKS 4, 48–9 / R, 175 (translation slightly modified)).

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one finds hints of this aspect of his personality scattered throughout his narrative. In the first place, it was in a “fashion boutique”66 that he found a very attractive girl who was supposed to be the young man’s mistress according to the “fabrication” designed by himself, however incidental this may seem. be it as it may, this feature of Constantin Constantius’ personality is given a clearer treatment once he arrives for the second time in berlin, for once he arrives at his old lodgings, he gives a brief overview of his aesthetics or rather of his “philosophy of furniture.”67 He mentions not only almost having smashed an armchair to pieces because it did not match the rest of the environment, but also that because of such an incident he had gone to bed “without having had one single rational thought.”68 also in Repetition, when he returns home after having ascertained that repetition does not exist, he mentions his “conservative principles”69 in terms of the right keeping of his “economy,”70 by which he means his household,71and, in this sense, he gets to the point of calling mere flies “revolutionary,” notwithstanding the paradoxical fact that “[t]hree flies… were preserved to fly buzzing through the room at specified times.”72 in other words, “established and enduring order”73 was Constantin Constantius’ ideal of what an economy should be like, an ideal which most certainly allows one to call him a dandy.74 and yet the dandyish side of Constantin Constantius, as said before, would appear more clearly in the work entitled “in vino veritas.” the story, recollected by William Afham, describes the meeting of five friends in a banquet set in the woods in the outskirts of Copenhagen on a summer evening, and its details are more or less the following: a proposal for a banquet between friends had been broached one day in a coffee shop where they used to meet, but it was completely dropped when none of these friends seemed either willing or capable of organizing it.75 Curiously in any event, there seems to be an agreement between nineteenth-century esthetes in the sense that dandyism is, fundamentally, an ethics and more particularly one based on the notion of self-constitution, although this notion cannot be seen disengaged from its other half, that is, the utterly modern notion of self-differentiation (see SKS 4, 47–8 / R, 174). Lastly, it should also be mentioned that Kierkegaard most likely did not have access to the word “dandy” and thence the lack of its appearance in his work. 66 see SKS 4, 21 / R, 144. 67 see SKS 4, 27–9 / R, 151–3. see also edgar allan Poe, “the Philosophy of Furniture,” in his Poetry and Tales, ed. by Patrick F. Quinn, new york: the Library of america 1984, pp. 382–7. 68 see SKS 4, 43 / R, 169. 69 SKS 4, 45 / R, 171. 70 SKS 4, 50 / R, 179. 71 see SKS K4, 57, commentary to p. 50, line 4. 72 ibid. 73 SKS 4, 50 / R, 179. 74 For it accords with Balzac’s definition of the dandy as a sort of poet, since, as he puts it, “the principle of the elegant life is a haughty thought of order and of harmony destined to give poetry to things” (Honoré de balzac, “traité de la vie élégante,” in his La Comédie Humaine XII. Études Analitiques. Ébauches rattachées à La Comédie Humaine, ed. by Pierregeorges Castex et al., Paris: gallimard 1981, p. 225). 75 see SKS 6, 28ff. / SLW, 22ff.

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though, they reached a first consensus in the sense that, if it were to happen at all, not only the whole setting of it would have to be a completely new creation but, more particularly, it should also be thoroughly demolished once the banquet was finished. One of the participants in this conversation, Victor Eremita, subsequently sketched the conditions for such a banquet in a speech delivered while still at the coffee shop,76 and in which he demanded quite a number of things: the absence of women, that the numbers of participants should match the number of the muses, a staff of select and handsome servants, a waterfountain, and, more particularly, the richest overabundance of everything imaginable, that is, from music to lighting as well as, more fundamentally, exquisite wine and food. as seen, victor eremita placed some incredible demands which he himself believed were impossible to meet. yet, Constantin Constantius, who was there all along, although in silence, kept such demands to himself, thinking that it would be a trump to realize such plans without the others’ knowledge.77 so, suddenly, after some time had elapsed since the meeting, the participants who had taken part in the conversation received an invitation to participate in a banquet which was to take place that same evening78 in a wooded area a couple of miles away from Copenhagen and whose theme was meant to be, as a homage to Plato’s Symposium, in vino veritas.79 once again great care, as well as taste, was taken in what regards the economy of the place, for the dandy in Constantin Constantius had seen to it that all of the guests not only arrived by carriage—although victor eremita, who was staying nearby in the country would eventually arrive on horseback80—but above all that they had at their disposal the best possible setting imaginable. in fact, these are the words of sheer bewilderment as recollected by william afham regarding the feelings of the company once they first entered the room in which the banquet had been prepared: the double doors were opened; the effect of the brilliant lighting, the coolness that flowed toward them, the spicy fascination of the scent, and the tasteful table setting overwhelmed the entering guests for a moment and when at the same time the orchestra began playing the dance music from Don Giovanni, the forms of those entering were transfigured, and as if in deference to an invisible spirit encompassing them, they stood still a moment, like someone whom admiration has awakened and who has risen in order to admire.81

after taking their places at the table, the participants then dined superbly until Constantin Constantius proposed that the banquet should end with each one giving a speech, provided that each of them did not meander about too erratically or had see ibid. see SKS 6, 31 / SLW, 26. 78 which is in keeping with the character of a dandy, for as barbey d’aurevilly, one of its greatest nineteenth-century theoreticians, reckons to be dandyism’s “most general characteristic…to always produce the unforeseen” (barbey d’aurevilly, “du dandysme et de george brummell,” in his Œuvres romanesques complètes, vols. 1–2, ed. by Jacques Petit, Paris: gallimard 1966, vol. 2, p. 675). 79 see SKS 6, 31 / SLW, 26. 80 see SKS 6, 32 / SLW, 27. 81 SKS 6, 32 / SLW, 27. 76 77

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drunk too little; the theme of the speeches was meant to be erotic love.82 The first one to give his speech was the “young man,”83 after which Constantin Constantius gave his with the main thesis being that woman “is properly construed under the category of jest. it is man’s function to be absolute, to act absolutely, to express the absolute; woman consists in the relational. between two such different entities no real interaction can take place….this misrelation is precisely the jest, and the jest entered the world with woman.”84 as seen, in what concerns his misogyny Constantin Constantius was quite constant. However, his speech affords the contemplation of yet another aspect of his personality which was not afforded in Repetition, and that is his downright racism, since he, commenting on shakespeare’s othello, argues that “a colored man, dear drinking companions…cannot be assumed to represent intellect, a colored man, dear drinking companions…becomes green in his face when he becomes angry (which is a physiological fact).”85 this last statement allows one to see in Constantin Constantius’ mind the influence not only of an ancient conception of woman, since, at one point of his speech, Plato and aristotle are enrolled as authorities in what regards her inferiority,86 but also of newer modes of thinking which found in science, however mistaken or wondrous its presuppositions might have been, the ontological foundations for an argument or world-view. in other words, the last sentence quoted above betrays the presence of ideology in Constantin Constantius’ world-view,87 since he seems to argue from purported scientific reasons on the inferiority of, in this case, moors. in any event, his speech is, in its general lines,88 steered toward the argumentation that not only is woman per se a jest, but also that the main dynamics of the age tended, in the end, to a more general decadence of customs: “she goes further, she wants to be emancipated—she is man enough to say that. if that happens, the jest will exceed all bounds.”89 and exceed it did, but not exactly because of women, but rather because of wine, for after everyone had given their speeches Constantin see SKS 6, 33ff. / SLW, 29ff. Curiously, though, the young man’s speech contains absolutely no mention of his unnamed beloved mistress, around whom the story of Repetition had revolved, or of any other woman; indeed, he now claims that he had never fallen in love. thus, there is not one single word on his part concerning his former pederastic relationship with Constantin Constantius (see SKS 6, 36–49 / SLW, 31–47). 84 SKS 6, 50 / SLW, 48. it should also be mentioned that Constantin Constantius does not pronounce either one single word concerning his former “interaction” with the young man. 85 SKS 6, 52 / SLW, 50. 86 see SKS 6, 57 / SLW, 55. 87 Hannah arendt stresses the difference between mere opinion and ideology in that the latter claims to possess either the key to history or the solution to the riddles of the entire universe (see Hannah arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism, new york: schocken books 2004, p. 211; pp. 603–7). 88 see SKS 6, 50–7 / SLW, 47–56. 89 SKS 6, 57 / SLW, 56. one should not forget that Kierkegaard had developed a very similar view of women particularly in his very first published piece of writing: see SKS 14, 9–10 / EPW, 3–5. 82 83

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Constantius, as their host, gave a sign as if to say that it was time to rise from the table, saluting next his comrades with another glass of wine, and then proceeding to hurl it against a door in the back wall. the others then followed this last gesture of his, and after them the whole demolition crew, which had been kept in readiness from the beginning of the banquet,90 took position in order to transform the setting, tastefully organized by their host, into a “tableau of annihilation.”91 Constantin Constantius had already arranged, though, for his guests to be driven away in a carriage, which was supposed to take all of them to one spot, where five other carriages were to wait for each of them. as they reached this spot together in this communal carriage, Constantin Constantius drove away supposedly in the latter, not going thus to where his friends were bound. this was when Constantin Constantius was last seen on the night of the banquet,92 and one can surmise that he happened to pay for it from three indubitable facts: (1) no one in the entire narrative mentions having paid for it; (2) since he, as its host, had organized it, it only seems natural that he ended up paying for it, and (3) what actually seems to corroborate this line of investigation is an afterthought on the part of Constantin Constantius and which is revealed earlier in the narrative by William Afham, who says: “[h]ow easy to give a banquet, and yet Constantin has maintained that he would never again risk it!”93 all of this, then, leads one to believe that the vagrant or travelling esthetician indeed ended up paying for such an exquisite banquet: a dandy to the core! there are other places in the works of Kierkegaard, though, in which Constantin Constantius also appears, but as a pseudonym under review by the other pseudonyms rather than as a literary character or narrator. in The Concept of Anxiety he is described by vigilius Haufniensis as the author of a “witty book,” as one who writes in a manner “so ‘that the heretics would not understand him.’ ”94 Frater taciturnus, in his “Letter to the reader” published as the last part of Stages on Life’s Way, comments, upon the similarities he encountered between Constantin Constantius’ notion of narrative as developed in Repetition and his own notions on the same topic, which are treated in his work under the concept of experiment. in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, Johannes Climacus not only acknowledges similarities between his philosophical conceptions and those of Constantin Constantius most aptly described as “the esthetic schemer [intrigante],”95 but also throws some very interesting light on the latter’s conception of narrative or communication: on the title page, the book Repetition was called a “psychological experiment.” that this was a doubly reflected communication form soon became clear to me. By taking place in the form of an experiment, the communication creates for itself an opposition, and the experiment establishes a chasmic gap between reader and author and fixes the separation of inwardness, so that a direct understanding is made impossible…. see SKS 6, 32 / SLW, 27. SKS 6, 80 / SLW, 85. 92 this whole last scene, that is, from the signal to his retreat, is described in SKS 6, 79–80 / SLW, 80–1. 93 SKS 6, 33 / SLW, 28 (my emphasis). 94 see SKS 4, 325, note / CA, 18, note. 95 SKS 7, 239 / CUP1, 263. 90 91

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the being-in-between of the experiment encourages the inwardness of the two away from each other in inwardness….the experiment is the conscious, teasing revocation of the communication, which is always of importance to an existing person who writes for existing persons, lest the relation be changed to that of a rote reciter who writes for rote reciters.96

the very last mention of the pseudonymous name Constantin Constantius in Kierkegaard’s published works occurs in “a First and Last explanation,” at the very end of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.97 Constantin Constantius is named only once and in a formal manner, that is, as the author of Repetition, as distinguished from some of the other pseudonyms, whom Kierkegaard summons as examples of his relation to them as authors.98 Perhaps this was done with the intention of standing firm by Constantin Constantius’ constancy in disappearing without leaving a trace, all of a sudden, precisely as a homage to the socratic-ironical dandy-flâneur that he seems to have been.

96 97 98

SKS 7, 239–40 / CUP1, 263–4 (translation slightly modified). see SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, [625]. see SKS 7, 570 / CUP1, [626].

bibliography burgess, andrew J., “repetition—a story of suffering,” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 247–62. Cain, david, “notes on a Coach Horn: ‘going Further,’ ‘revocation,’ and ‘repetition,’ ” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 335–58. gowens, david J., “understanding, imagination, and irony in Kierkegaard’s repetition,” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 283–308. mackey, Louis, “some versions of the esthete: either/or and the others,” in his Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 1–38. mcCarthy, vincent a., “repetition’s repetitions,” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 263–82. morris, t.F., “Constantin Constantius’ search for an acceptable way of Life,” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 309–34. watkin, Julia, “Constantin Constantius,” in her Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001, p. 402.

Frater taciturnus: the two Lives of the silent brother Wojciech Kaftański and Gabriel Guedes Rossatti

Frater taciturnus is Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous author and editor of “ ‘guilty?’/ ‘not guilty?’ ”1 as well as the author of its accompanying “Letter to the reader,”2 jointly comprising the bulk of Stages on Life’s Way, ostensibly a collection of novels and essays (if not loose papers) published on april 30, 1845 by Hilarius bookbinder, who is yet another Kierkegaardian pseudonym.3 apart from these works, he is also the author of a newspaper article written as a reply to the review of Stages on Life’s Way written by Peder Ludvig møller, which was published as “a visit in sorø” in Gæa.4 taciturnus’ article, entitled “the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner,” which was published in Fædrelandet on december 27, 1845,5 was the work that ignited the famous “Corsair affair.” this public controversy pushed Frater taciturnus to write yet another reply, this time to an article entitled “How the wandering Philosopher Found the wandering actual editor of The Corsair,” written by meïr goldschmidt and published in the Corsair on January 2, 1846.6 taciturnus’ response appeared as “the dialectical result of a Literary Police action” in Fædrelandet on January 10, 1846,7 and it would signal his last appearance as an author within the context of Kierkegaard’s literary production. Frater Taciturnus is, as hinted above, a highly complicated figure. In fact, a thorough analysis of the works of which he is both the editor and author, as well as the consequences of their publishing, disclose two different facets of the same figure. In the first period of his production we encounter Frater Taciturnus engaged in exclusively novel writing, as well as aesthetic criticism of his own production. in the second period, the one comprised by his newspaper articles, Frater taciturnus transforms himself not only into a journalist, but more specifically into a full-fledged “intellectual,” as we shall argue in the latter part of this exposition. notwithstanding the differences in the manifestations of both “facets” of Frater taciturnus, their unity

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

SKS 6, 175–368 / SLW, 187–397. SKS 6, 369–454 / SLW, 398–494. SKS 6, 7–454 / SLW, 3–494. reproduced partially in COR, supplement, 96–104. see SKS 14, 79–84 / COR, 38–46. reproduced in COR, supplement, 108–17. see SKS 14, 87–9 / COR, 47–50.

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seems to be held together by the very identity of the name given by Kierkegaard to his pseudonym: (the) silent brother. this means that along with the texts either written or “edited” by Frater taciturnus, we receive some intimations concerning the personality of its author. indeed, a close reading of his writings takes us into a journey during which we notice that Frater taciturnus is, on the one hand, the silent brother who speaks mainly through silence in both “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” and the “Letter to the reader,” while, on the other hand, he is also the silent brother who breaks the silence in two short newspaper articles written as replies to his reviewers. in other words, one sees a mutation, if not a revolution, from a literary style devised to communicate existential truths or ideas mainly through what could be called a rhetoric of silence. Frater taciturnus then goes toward the other end of the spectrum of silence, thus becoming a strident author. in any event, if the majority of “direct” information about him as an author can be extracted from the “Letter to the reader,” the work written by Frater taciturnus as a commentary to his own novel “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” the latter nevertheless provides us with a method that allows us to recreate the identity of the pseudonym. It is there that we find a useful metaphor for what our research should be modeled after since taciturnus at one point portrays his character “Quidam” as an interrogator who says: when an interrogator has perhaps been sitting for a long time reading documents, hearing witnesses, gathering evidence, inspecting the setting, he suddenly, sitting there in his room, sees something. it is not a human being, a new witness, it is not a corpus delicti; it is a something, and he calls it: the pattern of the case. as soon as he has seen the pattern of the case, he, that is, an interrogator, is effective.8

Frater taciturnus, later in his “Letter to the reader,” portrays himself as being “an observer and thus in a poetic and refined way a street inspector [Opsigtsbetjent].”9 in a similar manner, in this article we approach the personality of Frater taciturnus from the perspective of the above-presented interrogator. in order to be “effective” we shall “examine searchingly,”10 through piles of data, “the pattern of the case.”11 in sum, using the method proposed by Frater taciturnus himself, we intend to follow his very steps, that is, the marks left by the interrogator who knew best the streets and buildings of his city, its people as well as their language.12 This article is divided into two main sections. The first section explores his aesthetic production, comprised of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” and the “Letter to the reader.” the second section approaches Frater taciturnus’ journalistic production, comprised of “the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner” and “the dialectical result of a Literary Police action.”

8 9 10 11 12

SKS 6, 289 / SLW, 311. SKS 6, 421 / SLW, 456; SKS 6, 433 / SLW, 470. SKS 6, 279 / SLW, 300. SKS 6, 289 / SLW, 311. SKS 6, 257–9 / SLW, 276–7; SKS 6, 448–54 / SLW, 487–94.

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I. Frater Taciturnus as a Street Inspector, Experimenter, Religious Poet, Observer, and Editor A. “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” the original title of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” which was supposed to be “unhappy Love,” is indirectly retained in the subtitle which, eventually was attached to the former, namely, “a story of suffering.”13 “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” is written in a style that can be categorized as “memoir-novel,” understood as “a kind of novel that pretends to be a true autobiography or memoir.”14 it consists of journal entries from January 3 to July 7, although the year is not given. it is modeled on a case report that is written from an objective point of view and suggests a cycle, as the last entry recounts “the third of January” and indicates that “the unrest begins again.”15 the memoirs are written a year after the actual events,16 and yet the actual end of the life story is the point of departure of the written text. “Quidam” or “someone” in Latin, as the male protagonist and presumably the author of the memoirs that constitute “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” writes about his unsuccessful relationship with “Quaedam,” the feminine form of “someone” in Latin. their love, as Quidam reports, fails for a number of reasons. First, Quaedam does not feel the need for the spiritual, without which Quidam “is not.”17 He cannot sacrifice, even for love, “the deepest breathing of his spirit-existence,”18 because this is what constitutes him. He, therefore, chooses the religious instead of Quaedam.19 second, their love occurs on different levels of existence, and as such it is not the same love they share, or, as the text suggests, they have never really loved.20 third, Quaedam has erected an illusion that is a false image of reality, including the image of Quidam, and the illusion is beyond her control.21 Quaedam’s perception of her beloved takes place in the realm of the imagination and ends up in a misrelation between them.22 Fourth, the problem lies in the unsuccessful and fruitless guidance of Quidam, dedicated to the development of Quaedam’s religiousness. eventually, Quidam concludes that he cannot essentially benefit the other in the realms of the ethically-religious.23 in the preface to the work, entitled “notice: the owner sought,”24 Frater taciturnus tells a story that gives the reader a perspective on a few possible approaches to, as well Howard v. and edna H. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in SLW, p. xi. see Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms, ed. by Chris baldick, oxford and new york: oxford university Press 2008, p. 202. 15 SKS 6, 367 / SLW, 396. 16 SKS 6, 183 / SLW, 195. 17 SKS 6, 293 / SLW, 315. 18 ibid. 19 SKS 6, 207 / SLW, 222. 20 SKS 6, 403 / SLW, 435–6. 21 SKS 6, 345 / SLW, 372. 22 SKS 6, 228 / SLW, 244; SKS 6, 345 / SLW, 372. 23 SKS 6, 305–22 / SLW, 328–46. 24 SKS 6, 175–9 / SLW, 187–91. 13 14

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as the correct mood for, reading “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” His narrative is presented in the mood of romantic melancholy. it is full of symbols and brings up various themes that will be discussed in the main part of the work; it tells the story of two friends who embark on a journey to the secluded søborg Lake. Frater taciturnus, “on behalf of friendship and curiosity,”25 decides to accompany his “friend the naturalist,”26 who is anxious to examine the plant life of the lake “on behalf of science.”27 Frater taciturnus, as the protagonist, discovers in the lake a chest made of palisander wood, wrapped in oilcloth, provided with many seals. once opened, the chest discloses pieces of jewelry, a plain gold ring with a date engraved on it, a necklace with a diamond cross, a fragment of a poster of a comedy (perhaps as a symbol for the aesthetic), a torn page from the new testament (perhaps as a symbol for the religious), as well as a dried rose (perhaps as a symbol for unhappy love).28 among the artifacts Frater taciturnus discovers “a very carefully and neatly handwritten manuscript on very fine letter paper.”29 eventually, he decides to write a notice that would appeal to the owner of the found work via reitzel’s bookstore by means of a sealed note with his initials.30 the notice, presented as the overture to “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” is constructed in a way that excludes the appearance of any potential claimer, for Frater taciturnus, through mathematical calculations, discovers the age of the supposed finding, eventually reckoning it as belonging to the year 1751; as such, it was then impossible that the owner would be still alive. alternatively, Frater taciturnus presents different accounts of the found items suggesting that the very discovery has been fabricated, and it is his, the experimenter’s “imaginary psychological constructions [Experimenter],” an SKS 6, 176 / SLW, 188. SKS 6, 176 / SLW, 187–8. 27 SKS 6, 176 / SLW, 188. 28 those artifacts may indicate Kierkegaard’s reference to his broken engagement with regine through the work of Frater taciturnus. bruce H. Kirmmse claims: “regine olsen’s ‘reality’ was indeed ‘poetically dissipated’ by her incorporation in the novel “ ‘guilty’/‘not guilty?,’ ” which formed a part of Stages on Life’s Way…and which included…the actual letter in which Kierkegaard definitively broke off his engagement to Regine.” (Bruce H. Kirmmse, “Poetry, History—and Kierkegaard,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2010, p. 64.) However, Paul sponheim considers it an “error…to read Stages as an exercise in biography.” (Paul sponheim, “introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Stages on Life’s Way, trans. by walter Lowrie, new york: schocken 1967, p. 14). agreeing with sponheim’s contention, another scholar emphasizes the need to draw a distinction between Frater taciturnus and Kierkegaard (see gene Fendt, “writ against the religious drama: Frater taciturnus vs. søren Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard Revisited: Proceedings from the Conference Kierkegaard and the Meaning of Meaning It: Copenhagen, May 5–9, 1996, ed. by niels Jørgen Cappelørn and Jon stewart, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 1997 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 1), pp. 51–3). notwithstanding such a claim, the same scholar suggests that Kierkegaard devoted his authorship to constantly remind regine of her promised love to him (see gene Fendt, “is Works of Love a work of Love,” in Sex, Love, and Friendship: Studies of the Society for the Philosophy of Sex and Love, 1977–1992, ed. by alan soble, amsterdam and atlanta: rodopi 1997, pp. 473–85). 29 SKS 6, 178 / SLW, 189. 30 SKS 6, 178 / SLW, 190. 25 26

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experiment that aims “to create an individuality out of its own knowledge and to make this individuality the object of its observations.”31 “notice: owner sought,” thus, not only functions as a sort of introduction to, but also sets the paradigm for, the proper reading of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” indeed, its very beginning furnishes the reader with visual metaphors for “inclosing-reserve” [Indesluttethed], the concept that permeates Frater Taciturnus’ works. It is, for a start, in the very atmosphere of the all-embracing inclosedness, that Frater taciturnus makes his discovery.32 He explains, “the box was locked, and when i forced it open the key was inside: inclosing reserve is always turned inward in that way.”33 How was the box opened by Frater taciturnus, if it was closed and the key was inside? whatever way the box and its contents have been accessed, Frater taciturnus decides to keep closed what must be locked.34 on the other hand, a different reading of this fragment suggests that if what has to be enclosed within remains that way, then the box has never been opened because Frater taciturnus never found the box but, as was shown before, just fabricated the whole story. Frater taciturnus leaves these issues unresolved, which simultaneously provides a particular mood of uncertainty that gives another angle to the concept of inclosing reserve.35 The first intimations of the tremendous importance of silence in Frater taciturnus’ works come from his name, which means: (the) silent brother. silence is richly introduced in “notice: owner sought” and sets the angle for the proper reading of Frater taciturnus’ productions that are mainly exercised in both language and mood. silence is the way of communication exercised by Frater taciturnus. in the negative sense, silence communicates the concealed, which is not, and most likely, will not be revealed.36 silence refers also to the romantic literary productions; the more hidden the author is—the more romantic things are, also the more hidden things

SKS 6, 179 / SLW, 191. see also SKS 6, 178–9 / SLW, 190–1: “if one is under no such a constraint, then one could perhaps assume mir nichts and Dir nichts that a poor wretch of a psychologist who dares to count on but little sympathy for imaginary psychological constructions and unreal fabrications [Constructioner] has made an attempt to invite sympathy by giving it the aspect of a novel.” 32 SKS 6, 177–8 / SLW, 188–9: “i pulled, and a bubble rose from the depths….a sigh from below, a sigh de profundis…a sigh from the inclosed lake, a sigh from an inclosed soul from which i wrested its secret.” 33 SKS 6, 177 / SLW, 189. see Lowrie’s translation Stages on Life’s Way, p. 183: “thus it is that morbid reserve always is introverted.” 34 SKS 6, 185 / SLW, 197: “it is my pride, my honor, my inspiration to keep in inclosing reserve what must be locked up, to reduce it to the scantiest rations possible.” 35 SKS 6, 208 / SLW, 223. See also Darío González, “Suspended Reflections: The dialectic of self-enclosure in Kierkegaard’s ‘guilty?/not guilty,’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), p. 175; p. 183; p. 185. 36 we do not know the author of Quidam’s diary, since Quidam denotes the masculine form of “someone.” we do not know the original structure of the work since it has been changed by Frater taciturnus. we are not told the meanings of the artifacts that are part of the discovery from the søborg Lake, but we see that it is essential for the author to mention them. 31

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are—the more self-conscious the author is.37 silent is the one who suffers,38 and the poetic comes in and through true suffering since unhappy love invents poetry.39 silence speaks also about the limits of poetry since it cannot reach the existential; still, however, silence is an important mood in which an individual can be present to himself. on the one hand, Frater taciturnus is silent, because his voice is “absent” from “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” on the other hand, the silent brother speaks through the way he organized the whole thing and through the voice of Quidam. the only one who is effectively silent is Quaedam, whose voice (of suffering) is never heard. B. “Letter to the Reader” In the “Letter to the Reader” the intended reader finally gains a somewhat broader perspective on the subjects considered in “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” Frater taciturnus informs his reader that the content of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” concentrates on the relation between “Quidam” and “Quaedam.” they are, as we are told, part of a peculiar experiment.40 that experiment has many layers. one layer presents Quidam experimenting with Quaedam in his project that aims at introducing her to the religious—he observes Quaedam but himself is unseen.41 on another layer we see Quidam observing the development of himself in the relation to Quaedam42— the development that narratively exists only within Frater taciturnus’ imaginary construction.43 still another layer presents Frater taciturnus as the one who acts and observes, remaining himself unseen. He is a creator with a certain agenda that follows the requirements of his experiment.44 Last but not least, Frater taciturnus allows his “dear reader,” through the study of both Quidam (and Quaedam), to learn about the matters of imagination, possibility, the religious, and marriage.45 37 Louis mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, p. 295. 38 SKS 6, 277 / SLW, 298. 39 SKS 6, 375 / SLW, 404. 40 it seems that, misleadingly, in the Hongs’ translation the danish Experiment is rendered with the english “construction,” whereas the danish Construction is translated into english as “fabrication.” 41 SKS 6, 190 / SLW, 203: “Here i sat and waited; here i watched her, myself unseen.” 42 SKS 6, 312 / SLW, 335. 43 SKS 6, 374 / SLW, 403: “Fortunately my hero does not exist outside my imaginary construction in thought.” 44 Quaedam is developed in such a way, that she better “illuminate[s] him and teach[es] him to exert himself” (SKS 6, 370 / SLW, 399). as Frater taciturnus assures his reader, he could endow the girl differently, but it would not suit his experiment. 45 SKS 6, 369–70 / SLW, 398–9: “yet it may well have its importance to pay attention to him, because one is able to study the normal in the aberration and, if nothing else, always learn this much, that the religious is not something to make light of as something one can easily do, or something for stupid people and unshaven striplings, since it is the most difficult of all, even though absolutely accessible and absolutely enough for everyone, which is already difficult to understand, just like the contradiction that the same water in the same place is so shallow that a sheep can wade and so deep that an elephant can swim.”

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Frater taciturnus contrasts himself with Quidam, calling himself an “enthusiast,” who has the understanding of the religious, but he is himself not religious.46 Quidam discussing his religiousness refers to appropriating “the religious prototypes,”47 stating that however “[p]redisposed as I am, at the turning point of the religious crisis i reach for the paradigm…i cannot understand the paradigm at all, even though i venerate it with a childlike piety that does not want to abandon it.”48 eventually Quidam states it is possible to talk about the religious, while claiming that it is impossible to understand it.49 The whole discussion is finally summarized with two metaphors, one of a priest and the other of a skipper, which aim to prove that both can preach or swear respectively, not being permeated by the idea that is conveyed in their language.50 both are capable of performing speech acts—preaching, or swearing—without their whole existence being involved in the speech. in a similar manner, Frater taciturnus talks about the religious, while he himself was not permeated by the very idea of the religious. this method of dealing with religious issues shows that Frater taciturnus represents the religious poet. Frater taciturnus calls the religious a “qualitative dialectic”51 and associates it with risk and uncertainty.52 although interested absolutely in the religious,53 Frater taciturnus links the religious with Christian spirituality,54 and this is where he stops.55 “this i have understood very well, although i myself am not religious, but neither do i arrogate to myself the desire to take it by force, but with the pleasure of observation i only want to understand it by imaginatively constructing.”56 the above quotation shows that Frater taciturnus perceives himself as the one who knows the cost of the religious, which is the spiritual, but, consistent with his own desires, he decides not to take any step further towards the true religious. the phrase “to take it by force” is most likely an analogy to the biblical text from matthew 11:12: “From the days of John the baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to violence, and violent people have been raiding it.” Frater taciturnus refrains from SKS 6, 396 / SLW, 428. SKS 6, 241 / SLW, 258. 48 ibid. 49 ibid. 50 SKS 6, 242 / SLW, 259. 51 SKS 6, 409 / SLW, 443. 52 SKS 6, 410–11 / SLW, 444. 53 one has to notice Frater taciturnus’ knowledge of Feuerbach and Pascal—most likely the two greatest radical presentations of the individual’s relation to the religious known to Kierkegaard’s contemporaries. 54 see Fendt, “writ against the religious drama: Frater taciturnus vs. søren Kierkegaard,” pp. 49–51. 55 referring back to some of Quidam’s utterances from his diary, we see that Frater taciturnus’ halt is criticized and negatively judged by Quidam; see for example SKS 6, 283 / SLW, 305: “but every existence that wills something thereby indirectly judges, and the person who wills the category indirectly judges him who does not will.” see also SKS 6, 317 / SLW, 341: “it is quite true that a person who cannot shave himself can set up a shop as a barber and serve others according to their needs, but in the world of spirit this is meaningless.” 56 SKS 6, 411 / SLW, 445. 46 47

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“raiding the kingdom of heaven” and rests on the position of an observer of the “imaginary construction.” relating to “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty,’ ” and again describing the religious (healing), he says: [A]ll that remains is only the individual himself—the particular individual placed in his relationship with God under the qualification: guilty/not guilty. This is the religious according to what i have ascertained in the composing of the imaginary construction.… i have a notion that i, if i did go further and made a beginning in the religious, might not get into the predicament where it would be doubtful whether i was guilty, and therefore i remain outside. i am not an offended person, far from it, but neither am i religious. the religious interests me as a phenomenon and as the phenomenon that interests me most. therefore, it is not for the sake of humanity but for my own sake that it distresses me to see religiousness vanish, because i wish to have material for observation.…an observer has time in abundance.57

this important quotation indicates the poetic religiousness, the marriage between aesthetics and religiousness, which represents Frater taciturnus. although concerned with the religious, he does not represent the religious existentially. the religious interests Frater taciturnus as an objective phenomenon and as such he is not interested in the religious in any other sense.58 Frater taciturnus’ apprehension of the religious goes only so far as the poetic because he does not place himself under the category of “guilty/not guilty.” Frater taciturnus will not repent, since, as he puts it, “Poetry cannot use repentance.”59 it cannot accommodate either guilt, forgiveness of sins, or duplexity,60 which are the characteristics of Christian religiousness. discussing suffering in the religious sphere in the “appendix” to the “Letter to the reader,” Frater taciturnus ironically mentions the fact that everyone unquestionably possesses knowledge about the human being—knowledge, which essentially is of the religious.61 yet, further on, he notices: “thus, everyone knows that a human being is immortal. the observer knows what everyone is, and yet everyone indeed is and remains immortal.”62 the observer is Frater taciturnus himself, something he acknowledges verbatim while sharing his observations on the characters of “an imaginary Construction”: SKS 6, 427 / SLW, 463. see SKS 11, 191 / SUD, 77, where anti-Climacus calls “a poet-existence verging on the religious an existence that has something in common with the despair of resignation” and, from the perspective of Christianity, “the sin of poetizing instead of being.” 59 SKS 6, 412 / SLW, 446. 60 SKS 6, 376 / SLW, 405: “Poetry is connected with immediacy and thus cannot think a duplexity.” Duplexity in the eyes of poetry is the doubt that disqualifies passion as the true passion. unhappy love creates poetry, but poetry cannot put up with dialectical love, because such love does not guarantee the outcome of the struggle that takes place in the very love. see also SKS 6, 379–80 / SLW, 409. 61 SKS 6, 434 / SLW, 471: “it is extremely simple; everyone knows it, and precisely in that i again see the unity of the comic and the tragic when i consider that everyone knows what a human being is, and the observer knows what everyone is.” 62 SKS 6, 435 / SLW, 472. 57 58

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…i, who am an observer and thus poetice et eleganter [in a poetic and refined way] a street inspector, I find great joy in bowing.”63 However much the observer may find a great joy in bowing, Frater taciturnus does not bow indiscriminately, for, as he says, the “gods…have given me an uncommon ingenuity in paying attention to people, so that i neither take off my hat before i see the man nor take it off to the wrong one.64

in “a Concluding word” to the “Letter to the reader,” he presents a quite stoic portrait of his life.65 although involved in subjects full of passion and restlessness, he is resolved in himself.66 He writes, “inasmuch as there is nothing at all to hasten after, i have forever and a day for myself and can talk with myself about myself undisturbed and without inconveniencing anyone.”67 He is aware of his own limitations and says: “i look at the religious position from all sides, and to that extent i continually have one more side than the sophist, who sees only one side.”68 this means that if, on the one hand, he may be regarded as a sophist, since he is not a religious person or because he discusses the religious in an abstract manner, on the other hand, he is not a sophist, since he is infinitely concerned about himself.69 Frater taciturnus is the observer who, on the one hand, sees through the action of looking into himself since he has infinite concern about himself, which represents introspective insight. on the other hand, his insight is directed outside of himself: either onto the others or into the infinite. The observer resonates here with the poet, since the poet knows more than others do.70 The poet sees beyond the infinite, but, as was shown above, Frater taciturnus is not interested in religious faith; he does not venture in actuality toward what he sees.71 the observer resonates also with the street inspector, whom we already mentioned, whose work consists in observing and analyzing what has been observed.72 Frater taciturnus’ edition of “Quidam’s diary” is part of what one may call Kierkegaard’s multiple editing enterprises. in fact, all journals and diaries, which constitute (directly and indirectly) Kierkegaard’s authorship have, apart of their authors, their editors. in this composition of multiple editions of diaries or journals SKS 6, 421 / SLW, 456. see also SKS 4, 103 / FT, 7. SKS 6, 433 / SLW, 470. 65 SKS 6, 448 / SLW, 487. Frater taciturnus enjoys boring Copenhagen over busy Paris. He says: “Satisfied with the lesser…I am happy in life, happy in the little world that is my environment.” 66 SKS 6, 434n / SLW, 472n. 67 SKS 6, 447 / SLW, 485. 68 ibid. 69 SKS 6, 448 / SLW, 486. 70 on the poet in Kierkegaard’s authorship see Kirmmse, “Poetry, History—and Kierkegaard,” pp. 49–68. 71 SKS 17, 252, dd:96 / KJN 1, 243: “This morning I saw a half a score of wild geese fly away in the crisp cool air; they were right overhead at first and then farther and farther away, and at last they separated into two flocks, like two eyebrows over my eyes, which now gazed into the land of poetry.” 72 it is worth noticing that both the role of a street inspector and observer resonates with the meaning of the name of the pseudonymous author of The Concept of Anxiety, vigilius Haufniensis, which means “the watchman of Copenhagen.” 63 64

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given by Kierkegaard we number: Frater taciturnus as the editor of “Quidam’s diary,” a as the editor of “the seducer’s diary,” victor eremita as the editor of a’s editions of “the seducer’s diary,” and Kierkegaard himself is the editor of his own journals.73 this indicates the constant role of the editing practice in Kierkegaard’s works as well as the inescapability of an all-embracing editing procedure in life. Frater taciturnus is the editor of Quidam’s life but is himself edited by Kierkegaard. This editing process brings a lot of intended complications in terms of the finding the authorial voice of the works that are constituted in this manner. in the Preface to Either/Or, Part One, Victor Eremita comments on the difficulty that follows A’s editing of “the seducer’s diary”: Here we meet new difficulties, inasmuch as A does not declare himself the author but only the editor [of “The Seducer’s Diary”]. This is an old literary device to which I would not have much to object if it did not further complicate my own position, since one author becomes enclosed within the other like the boxes in a Chinese puzzle.74

as Frater taciturnus suggests, the “imaginary construction” is susceptible to modification, for various changes and options can be and are implemented by him to the construction. therefore, on the one level, it is Frater taciturnus who edits “Quidam’s diary.” Having in mind certain goals and expectations, he introduces particular changes into the construction.75 on another level—and this seems to go unnoticed by Frater taciturnus given that he does not comment on it explicitly— it is Quidam who shapes his diary according to his own agenda. Consequently, Frater taciturnus has limited access to the very matters that compose Quidam’s diary, but simply has what Quidam allows him to have access to, which is what is to serve his purposes.76 It turns out that both have a limited influence on the work. But who has the full control over the text? Frater taciturnus, concerned with the potential reader of his works, organizes his production as a whole according to a chiasmic structure. this chiasmic structure, which encompasses the works of Frater taciturnus, betrays a paradoxical contradiction. in the opening story around the trip to søborg Lake the naturalist (who possibly is modeled either on Jean-Jacques rousseau,77 or, as Julia watkin suggests, on the pastor and botanist Hans Christian Lyngbye)78 is a scientist who calculates according to empirical and rational suppositions. according to the anecdote at the end although Kierkegaard’s journals, as it might seem, were written for his own purposes, various journal entries suggest that Kierkegaard edited them for future publishing. see for example SKS 18, 169, JJ:95 / KJN 2, 157. 74 SKS 2, 16 / EO1, 8–9. 75 SKS 6, 436–7 / SLW, 474. 76 SKS 6, 228–31 / SLW, 245–7. 77 on Kierkegaard’s knowledge of rousseau see vincent a. mcCarthy, “Jean-Jacques rousseau: Presence and absence,” in Kierkegaard and the Renaissance and Modern Traditions, tome i, Philosophy, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2009 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 5), pp. 156–9. 78 Julia watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001, p. 254. 73

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of “Letter to the reader,” “the men of molbo who threw the eel into the water,”79 on the contrary, represent foolish people. the foolish people of molbo are punishing the fat eel, which had eaten their entire herring breed, by throwing the eel into the sea. the men of molbo can see the eel writhe as if it were in the greatest torment since they believed the eel suffered drowning, and therefore it was the right punishment for the eel. drawing on this story, Frater taciturnus claims that if there is a reader of his work “who reads all the way through…the harm from being left to one’s own devices, when it is the only thing he wishes…[is] like the punishment at the hands of the men of molbo who threw the eel into the water.”80 that sort of punishment, as the story suggests, eventually cancels itself—so there is no tangible punishment that awaits the reader of Frater taciturnus’ works. addressing the chiasmic structure indicated by the marine allusions, we see that the anticipated reader of the works of Frater taciturnus is the individual who makes himself the object of her observation. Putting it differently, Frater taciturnus, through his production, seeks “to create an individuality out of its own knowledge and to make this individuality the object of its observations.”81 Frater taciturnus anticipates the accusation of his contemporaries that will follow the publication of his works that he is himself nothing but a light-minded seducer, who merely entices the reader into this elaborate experiment.82 but he is a different kind of seducer than the one presented by victor eremita in the “Preface” to Either/Or, Part one, to which Frater taciturnus points when referring again to the eel of molbo. the seducer of victor eremita, incited by the girl, seduces the feminine in women,83 whereas Frater taciturnus, incited by the reader, annihilates himself as the seducer and leaves the reader to himself without the consequences of being seduced.84 but if there is not a reader who hangs on to the very end of this book—what Frater taciturnus suggests85—who is then the anticipated audience to his work(s)? on the one hand, it is Frater taciturnus himself who, although the author, becomes the reader of his own works. if Frater taciturnus is the author, then Kierkegaard is

SKS 6, 454 / SLW, 494. ibid. italics changed according to the more helpful translation of den Skade at man faaer Lov at skjøtte sig selv into english offered by Jeffrey Hanson; compare with the Hongs’ translation “the harm of being allowed to shift for oneself,” or Lowrie’s translation: “the injury done a man by leaving him to shift for himself” (p. 444). 81 SKS 6, 179 / SLW, 191. 82 SKS 6, 452–4 / SLW, 491–4. 83 SKS 2, 17 / EO1, 9–10: “she thinks she will be able to coerce me, to make me taste the pains of unhappy love. that, you see, is a girl for me. if she herself does not think of it profoundly enough, i shall come to her assistance. i shall writhe like the molbos’ eel. and when i have brought her to the point where i want her, then she is mine.” 84 SKS 6, 454 / SLW, 493. 85 SKS 6, 446 / SLW, 485: “my dear reader—but to whom am i speaking? Perhaps no one at all is left.” SKS 6, 451–2 / SLW, 491: “if it were conceivable (something i have not assumed) that there is a reader who has persevered and consequently has come to read this (something i have not imagined, for then i would not have written it).” 79 80

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the reader. on the other hand, if Kierkegaard is the author, who is the reader then? therefore, the reader is the author, and the author becomes its reader.86 Frater taciturnus is not only a well-developed editor, but he is also well read in literature. He either quotes or—directly or indirectly—refers to the classics of antiquity,87 medieval philosophy and prose,88 a wide range of modern works, and those of his contemporaries.89 the writings of Frater taciturnus are also abundant in relations with works written by Kierkegaard and Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms. the mode of self-interrogation of the silent brother resembles Hamlet’s “to be, or not to be,” and draws on the subject of marriage taken up in Either/Or by victor eremita. in fact, Quidam’s statement “marry her or do not marry her at all. that is what was at stake”90 resonates with a passage from “diapsalmata”: “marry, and you will regret it. do not marry, and you will also regret it.”91 Frater taciturnus, in his rather negative assessment of marriage expressed in poetic terms, draws on Judge william’s positive view on that subject articulated in “Reflections on Marriage”—the book which precedes “ ‘Guilty?’/‘Not Guilty?’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way.92 the theme of resignation, presented with association of the lack of the religious in Quaedam in “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” seems to bear a resemblance to the resignation of Johannes de silentio’s from Fear and Trembling.93 Frater taciturnus, deliberating on the subject of the feminine psyche refers to concepts of relation and misrelation that will be explored much later on in The Sickness unto Death.94 one of the unique literary devices he presents is the double-entendre witticism introduced by Quidam in “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” the very concept resonates with later ones developed by Kierkegaard, mainly of double-reflection, double-movement, and indirect communication.95 the “double-entendre witticism,”96 which might also be a key to the reading of the book, drawing on the discussed subject of “the reader” points to the fact that one never knows who will be “the reader” of one’s legacy. the motif also shows that there are certain patterns that one may dislike, but which one might exemplify while being oblivious to living out those same patterns. see richard Kearney, “Kierkegaard on Hamlet: between art and religion,” in The New Kierkegaard, ed. by elsebet Jegstrup, bloomington and indianapolis: indiana university Press 2004, p. 224. 87 among others, socrates, Xanthippe, gorgias, Polos, thrasybolus (most likely thrasymachus), Plato, Petrarch, aristophanes, aristotle, and suetonius. 88 among others, Peter abelard and Heloise, and bonaventura. 89 among others, william shakespeare, miguel de Cervantes, adam oehlenschläger, Jonathan swift, st. augustine, eugène scribe, Ludvig Holberg, Johann gottlieb Fichte, Ludwig Feuerbach, blaise Pascal, gotthold ephraim Lessing, Carl von Linné, Ludwig börne, and matthias Claudius. 90 SKS 6, 183 / SLW, 195. 91 SKS 2, 47 / EO1, 38. 92 sylvia walsh, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania university Press 1994, pp. 181–2. 93 SKS 4, 123–47 / FT, 27–53 and SKS 6, 221 / SLW, 236–7. 94 SKS 11, 129–33 / SUD, 14–17. 95 SKS 27, 390, Papir 364 / JP 1, 648. see also sponheim, “introduction,” p. 7; p. 11. 96 SKS 6, 257–69 / SLW, 276–88. 86

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in style, the very construction of “notice: owner sought” echoes in particular the Preface to Either/Or, Part one, written by victor eremita. we notice the structural resonance between these two works, comparable references to parallel bits of the story and the similar type of narrative climax.97 it also resonates with another introductory part written by another of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms, H.H. in the introduction to “does a Human being Have the right to Let Himself be Put to Death for the Truth?” one detects the similar significance of silence and self-resolvedness (which is conceptually related to self–inclosedness).98 the work of H.H., alongside The Concept of Anxiety, Fear and Trembling, Repetition, and the works of Frater taciturnus are designed as either imaginary, psychological, or thought constructions [Experimenter] and as such refer, as already mentioned, to Kierkegaard’s indirect communication.99 Although the “Letter to the Reader” finishes with Latin Dixi, supposedly a part of Dixi et liberavi cor meum, which are the “customary closing words in Latin orations” meaning “i have spoken and delivered my heart,”100 in fact the coming publications of a fuming Frater taciturnus will make the previously inclosedly-reserved depths of his heart known to the public. II. Frater Taciturnus Breaks the Silence in the Name of the Polis Frater taciturnus’ next appearance in the works of Kierkegaard would occur in a different medium from the one we have seen so far. the consequences of such an appearance would be tremendous for the life of Kierkegaard. in contrast to what he claims in the very last part of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, where he explains his relationship to the pseudonymous authors in the sense of his being “impersonally or personally in the third person a souffleur”101 or their “secretary,”102 the practical results which were caused by Frater taciturnus’ last writings would affect Kierkegaard, the man, in an extremely personal manner. indeed, one could say they would become for him almost as painful as a “thorn in the flesh.”103 For it would SKS 2, 12–14 / EO1, 4–6. SKS 11, 61–3 / WA, 55–7. 99 see, among others, Howard v. and edna H. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in FT, pp. xxviii–xxxi; SKS 7, 228–73 / CUP1, 251–300: “a glance at Contemporary effort in danish Literature”; Pap. vi b 40:45 / JP 1, 633. see also daniel greenspan, Passion of Infinity: Kierkegaard, Aristotle and the Rebirth of Tragedy, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2008, p. 237: “there are three psychologists on Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous record, Constantin Constantius, vigilius Haufniensis, and anti-Climacus. a fourth, Frater taciturnus, works in ‘imaginary [experimenterende] psychological constructions.’ ” 100 SKS 6, 454 / SLW, 494. see also Howard v. and edna H. Hong, “supplement,” in SLW, p. 742, note 588. 101 SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, [625]. 102 SKS 7, 571 / CUP1, [627]. 103 one scholar actually gets to the doubly absurd point of claiming that “by naming møller as editor of The Corsair in his closing paragraph, and with his famous jocular demand that he himself should ‘get into The Corsair soon,’ he [Kierkegaard] provoked and unleashed the events that were to alter the course of his life and drive him to his death just as surely 97 98

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be up to the Frater to reply to Peder Ludvig møller’s (1814–65) insightful criticisms of Kierkegaard’s works and more particularly of the penultimate part of Stages on Life’s Way. møller published these criticisms in his aesthetic yearbook entitled Gæa under the title “a visit to sorø”104 on december 22, 1845. the story of the skirmish between Kierkegaard and the newspaper named the Corsair, where møller worked as one of its anonymous editors alongside meïr goldschmidt (1819–87) is well known, and so we will not occupy ourselves with it here.105 what is of interest to us, though, is the fact that Frater taciturnus’ reply is, on the one hand, sheer malice and ferocity, while on the other hand it already contains, as unbelievable as this may sound, sheer civic concern. in other words, while malice and ferocity were absolutely in accordance with the Corsair’s own “editorial policy,”106 civic concern, on the other hand, rather points to an altogether different sphere or mental attitude. the point is that Frater taciturnus’ replies contain the very first seeds of what would be called after Kierkegaard’s death the Kirkekamp, that is, the war on the established Church led by Kierkegaard in the years 1854–55. This can be seen precisely because of the fact that Møller’s flaying by Frater taciturnus not only was accomplished through the medium of journalism, which means under the very “noonday light” of the modern public sphere,107 but, more importantly, because such an act was undertaken with a more fundamental ethical or even political intention. in short, the two newspaper writings signed by Frater taciturnus already perform the shift of Kierkegaard’s own authorial selfcomprehension which would determine his very last writings, and as such it is in the last works published by the silent brother in late 1845 and early 1846 that Kierkegaard assumed for himself, and this for the very first time in his career, the role of the “intellectual.”108 as Møller was to be driven to his” (roger Poole, “søren Kierkegaard and P. L. møller: erotic space shattered,” in The Corsair Affair, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1990 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 13), p. 153 (my emphasis). not willing to go that far, we nevertheless accept the general view that the “Corsair affair” served as a watershed in the life of Kierkegaard (see alastair Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 324). 104 Partially reproduced in COR, supplement, 96–104. 105 see Howard v. and edna H. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in COR, vii–xxxiii. 106 For, as explained in an editorial article entitled “the real Program” published in its first issue of October 8, 1840, the Corsair’s aim was none other than public slander and vilification, which the editors explained in the following terms, “…because there might perhaps be some who would argue as follows: ‘a corsair is a pirate ship or not much better than a pirate ship. Consequently this paper will not be much better than a pirate paper, and if it doesn’t plunder people, it will at any rate flay them.’ ” (Quoted by Joakim Garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton and oxford: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 377). 107 Kierkegaard, in his paper given in november of 1835 at the student association, actually had claimed that “reflection can and ought to embark upon investigation of only the factually given and to inspect it in the noonday light” (SKS 27, 190 / EPW, 36). 108 It could be argued that such seeds already appear in Kierkegaard’s very first newspaper articles as well as in his speech from his “student days,” but then his position as réflecteur had more to do, not only in our view but also in the view of his opponents (see EPW, supplement,

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For the time being it suffices to know that Frater Taciturnus’ first reply to møller, which bears the title “the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner”109 and was published in Fædrelandet on december 27, 1845, is, in part, sheer dialectics employed in the service of malice and aggressiveness. one could say it is, misquoting Kierkegaard’s own terms,110 pure uncontrolled irony. indeed, it is a work written by someone who was most clearly hurt, as møller’s criticisms had hit Kierkegaard deep in that they probed into his former relationship with regine olsen and, consequently, into his own algolagnia or sadomasochism, which, in turn, pointed even more fundamentally to Kierkegaard’s problematic relationship with his own body and sexuality.111 Precisely because this newspaper article is the work of a deeply problematic person who suddenly had publicly exposed some of his most profound anxieties, fears, and private concerns, it is neither wise, thoughtful, nor reasonable. Thus Frater Taciturnus’ first newspaper article is pure, unadulterated, concentrated hatred. it actually begins with its author implying that “our enterprising and venturesome man of letters, mr. P.L. møller”112 had financial problems, and ends with Frater Taciturnus literally calling him a “vagabond.”113 its main argument is that møller, as the travelling esthetician who has gone over to Professor Hauch’s house in sorø, had made use of a supposed conversation in which some works by “the philosopher with the many names” had been discussed.114 this account was criticized by Frater taciturnus in the sense that, by having published a private conversation, møller had infringed on the ethical laws of authorship. in other words, Frater taciturnus implies that there is a difference between a mere literat,115 meaning a “wanna-be writer” who has to go around collecting bits and pieces of gossip in order to come up with a piece of writing (møller, in this case), and a “real author” [Forfatter],116 denoting one who has grasped something in advance117 and has done so in an utterly individual, subjective way. In fact, Taciturnus claims that on account of being “public figures authors have to put up with a great deal, including the imputation of a relation to people who by having something printed are also authors.”118 the idea behind this is that this

pp. 142ff.), with an irrepressible urge to ironically tease them rather than getting into a discussion out of civic concern, which would be the case later during and after the “Corsair affair” (see below). 109 see SKS 14, 79–84 / COR, 38–46. 110 see SKS 1, 352ff. / CI, 324ff. 111 see roger Poole, “søren Kierkegaard and P. L. møller: erotic space shattered,” in The Corsair Affair, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 141–61. 112 SKS 14, 79 / COR, 38. 113 SKS 14, 84 / COR, 46. 114 see P.L. møller, “a visit to sorø,” in COR, supplement, 97. 115 SKS 14, 79 / COR, 38. 116 see SKS 14, 84 / COR, 46. 117 see søren Landkildehus, “the technique of Critique,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), p. 32. 118 SKS 14, 84 / COR, 46.

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lacks earnestness,119 and as such bad faith is their fundamental principle as authors, whereas the former not only have matured what they have to say but have matured themselves in this process, which makes them bear responsibility for what they say or publish.120 notwithstanding such severe criticisms which reproduce (paradoxically through the very medium of journalism) the nineteenth-century self-created cleavage between “high” (book/author) and “low” (newspaper/journalist) cultures,121 the real points which ignited the famous “Corsair affair” are to be found towards the end of the article, for it is in there that Frater taciturnus-Kierkegaard both discloses the existing “open secret”122 concerning møller’s relations with the anonymously edited and published newspaper the Corsair in his infamous: “ubi P. L. møller, ibi The Corsair.”123 this revelation, at least in møller’s mind, will translate into the ruining of his plans for attaining the chair of aesthetics at the university of Copenhagen. but there was more to it since Frater taciturnus-Kierkegaard also asked to be abused by the Corsair: “would that i might only get into The Corsair soon. it is really hard for a poor author to be so singled out in danish literature that he is the only not abused there.”124 the result of this request would be the campaign of abuse through slander and caricatures that Kierkegaard would suffer predominantly throughout the first part of 1846, although its attacks would officially last until the middle of 1848.125 but concerning Frater taciturnus and his place or role in the interior economy of Kierkegaard’s authorship, a shift of momentous importance would also take place as a result of the bitter “Corsair affair.” Specifically there is a change from “writer,” in the sense of the producer of (fundamentally) aesthetic works published through the medium of the book, to not only the hybrid nineteenth-century figure of the “writer-journalist”126 (since, after all, Frater taciturnus replied to møller through a newspaper article), but more specifically to the “intellectual.”127 Now this figure seems to have appeared towards the middle of the eighteenth century in France, and its main characteristic consists in the self-understanding that “writers” (or “authors”) not only could but actually should have an “influence upon

see SKS 14, 80 / COR, 40. such ideas are further explored in The Book on Adler; see SKS 15, 93–103 / BA, 7–18. 121 see marie-Françoise melmoux-montaubin, “introduction,” in her L’Écrivainjournaliste au XIXe siècle: un mutant des Lettres, Éditions des Cahiers intempestifs 2003, pp. 7ff. 122 see garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 394. 123 SKS 14, 84 / COR, 46. 124 ibid. 125 see robert L. Perkins, “introduction,” in The Corsair Affair, ed. by robert L. Perkins, p. xv. 126 see melmoux-montaubin, L’Écrivain-journaliste au XIXe siècle: un mutant des Lettres. 127 For a historical treatment of this figure, see Didier Masseau, L’invention de l’intellectuel dans l’Europe du XVIIIe siècle, Paris: Presses universitaires de France 1994. 119

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society,” as rousseau puts it.128 this means then that the “intellectual,” in opposition to the figure of the “writer,” presupposes an incessant public activity based on an irrepressible urge to communicate. For, as roland barthes puts it, “the function of the écrivant [sic] is to say, on every occasion and without delay, what he thinks.”129 some immediately convey some universal or essential truth, which, on account of its “brutal instantaneity,”130 may have an impact in terms of the functioning of society as a whole. that such a mutation had occurred to Frater taciturnus is recognizable, in part at least from the very justification he himself gives in his reply to Møller, since he acknowledges: “the real reader of the imaginary construction will readily discover that what I have written here is of a different nature and can be read right away by anyone. therefore, i am not insulting any newspaper reader by leading him into inquiries that cannot interest him and that cannot be dealt with in a newspaper.”131 In other words, one finds here an acknowledgement that this piece of writing was no longer “esthetic literature” as his former writings had been, and, moreover, that there was a more fundamental distinction of an ethical nature between book readers (that is, the real readers) and newspaper readers (that is, the false readers).132 this, in turn, corresponds to the distinction between the “real author” and the “journalist.” moreover, Frater taciturnus more explicitly claims that by disclosing møller’s “open secret,” he “really believed, too, that i would be doing some people a service thereby, but i do not insist that this service be appreciated.”133 now apart from the fact that taciturnus seems to have written this last sentence with tongue in cheek, one could not, on the other hand, demand a clearer or more tacit acknowledgement from his part concerning his mutation, at least in this initial moment of the controversy; in other words, he now publicly hints at the fact that he has decided to act out of public concern, which allows us to call him, then, a full-fledged “intellectual” or écrivant.134 Jean-Jacques rousseau, “discours sur l’origine et les fondemens de l’inégalité parmi les hommes,” in Œuvres Complètes, vols. 1–5, ed. by bernard gagnebin et al., Paris: gallimard 1964, vol. 3, p. 151. (unless acknowledged, all of the translations are the author’s.) 129 roland barthes, “ecrivains et écrivants,” in his Essais Critiques, Paris: Éditions du seuil 1964, p. 158. 130 masseau, L’invention de l’intellectuel dans l’Europe du XVIIIe siècle, p. 151. 131 SKS 14, 83 / COR, 45 (my emphasis). 132 in the preface to A Literary Review, Kierkegaard would make such claims more explicit by acknowledging that it, the review, was not intended “for esthetic and critical readers of newspapers but for rational creatures who take the time and have the patience to read a little book” (SKS 8, 9 / TA, 5). 133 SKS 14, 84 / COR, 45 (my emphasis). 134 one scholar claims that the intellectual characterizes himself by the fact that he “meddles in the affairs of the city. [As an] [e]ngaged creature, he assumes the clothing of the radical critic and defends the idea of his responsibility in what regards the social totality.” (gerhard Höhn, Heinrich Heine, un intellectuel moderne, Paris: Presses universitaires de France 1994, p. 14 (my translation, author’s emphasis)). it should also be mentioned that Kierkegaard himself would reprimand his contemporaries’ lack of “essential engagement” [væsentligt Engagement] in A Literary Review (see SKS 8, 88 / TA, 93 (translation slightly modified)). 128

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notwithstanding such allusions, Kierkegaard himself, and moreover, in person, would make the fact even clearer that Frater taciturnus had become overnight an “intellectual,” for, as meïr goldschmidt, the main editor of the Corsair, would tell the story retrospectively in his biography released in 1877, in that he and Kierkegaard met on one occasion on the street right in the period of the attacks from his newspaper on the latter, when asked why Frater taciturnus had attacked møller in such a harsh way, Kierkegaard, in goldschmidt’s words, responded that “Frater taciturnus’ right must be seen from a higher point of view.”135 now, by the expression “higher point of view,” which Kierkegaard would synthesize as “higher right” on another occasion,136 he must have meant that Frater taciturnus, as the proper intellectual that he had become, had a peculiar kind of access to the truth. one modern scholar calls precisely hauteur de vue [higher view] a major presupposition for the emergence of the “intellectual.”137 in other words, Kierkegaard seems to have indicated to goldschmidt that Frater taciturnus could disclose such awkward “secrets” such as that møller wrote for the Corsair through the press precisely because they concerned the affairs of everyone. therefore, as georges Clemenceau (1841–1929) had put it in the dreyfus affair in France at the turn of the nineteenth century, “the affair of one is the affair of all.”138 thus, differently from the position either of a møller or of a goldschmidt, not to mention of one of their “street-corner loafers,”139 Frater taciturnus, as implied by Kierkegaard, supposedly was situated above the partisan understandings either of reality or of literary matters. that this was the case is visible in taciturnus’ last appearance in the work of Kierkegaard, which took place once again through the medium of journalism, through the article entitled “the dialectical result of a Literary Police action,” which was published in Fædrelandet, this time on January 10, 1846,140 as a reply From meïr goldschmidt’s autobiography quoted from COR, supplement, p. 146. COR, supplement, p. 148. 137 see masseau, L’invention de l’intellectuel dans l’Europe du XVIIIe siècle, p. 161. in fact, masseau’s description of the “intellectual” whom he, on account of his both contextual and temporal delimitations names philosophe, is worth quoting because it serves as a perfect commentary to Kierkegaard’s justification of Frater Taciturnus’ “higher right,” for according to him “the philosophe [sic] reigns as master because he has an immediate access to the truth…[he] knows how to master the changes and upheavals in order to isolate the simple and clear principles which remain simultaneously as an exemplary reference, a goal to be reached because they are always threatened and an intangible law which the miserable and discordant human beings never completely break through. this thinker…posits therefore existence from a fixed point, [as an] essential truth, shining from the sheer glimmering of its rational evidence, immediately accessible for the one who knows how to suppress in himself the germs of partisan passion as well as maintain himself in as high a position as possible to master the apparent contradictions of diversity….the philosophe [sic] must be animated by a sort of ethics of reason” (masseau, L’invention de l’intellectuel dans l’Europe du XVIIIe siècle, pp. 149–50). as seen, what masseau names hauteur de vue corresponds precisely to barthes’ claim concerning the écrivant’s project of communication as being naïf. 138 Quoted by elisabeth young-bruehl, Hannah Arendt: For Love of the World, new Haven and London: yale university Press 2004, p. 413. 139 SKS 14, 88 / COR, 49. 140 see SKS 14, 87–9 / COR, 47–50. 135 136

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to the first actual attacks by the Corsair on Kierkegaard and his pseudonyms.141 møller, in the meantime, had already replied to taciturnus through Fædrelandet,142 but he would leave it up to goldschmidt and the Corsair to carry on more thoroughly the campaign of abuse against Kierkegaard. in any event, there are two features which strike one’s attention in what regards this last piece of writing from Frater Taciturnus, in the first place one finds there a somewhat clearer acknowledgement on his part that the demand to be abused by the Corsair was made expressly, as he puts it, “for the sake of others”143 and, in the second place, because of this one also finds better sketched his self-image as a martyr. in other words, not only these two last newspaper articles reveal Frater taciturnus in a new and unforeseen clothing, that of the “intellectual,” but, moreover, it is also through him that one finds introduced the theme of martyrdom which would become an indelible part of Kierkegaard’s works after the “Corsair affair.” Frater taciturnus explains his work of love: with a paper like The Corsair, which hitherto has been read by many and all kinds of people and essentially has enjoyed the recognition of being ignored, despised, and never answered, the only thing to be done in writing in order to express the literary, moral order of things…was for someone praised and immortalized in this paper to make application to be abused by the same paper…this, then, is a new kind of work, involving a very special kind of dialectical problem….He whose praise the self-respecting person refuses to accept and honor—his vilifying becomes a matter of personal honor….i cannot do any more for others than to request to be abused myself.144

by renouncing his old wish to always have “laughter on my side,”145 and by linking the “literary” to the more important higher “moral order of things,” Frater taciturnus can now boast, by means of his denunciation of møller’s relations with the Corsair, that he has made “such a large contribution, as they say of charitable institutions, to the Corsair’s demolition and defamation institute that it will feel duty-bound to exert itself to the utmost to fulfill its præstanda [obligation], perhaps for my whole life, or at least for a long time, until a new contribution is made necessary by a new insulting attack.”146 Frater taciturnus actually makes himself clearer when he, in the following lines, gives vent to his wishes concerning the Corsair’s ruin on account of “the dialectics of one person’s order to be abused or of a number of such orders,”147 but, as is well known, such dialectical help from other latter-day martyrs just would not be forthcoming. Thus the silent brother, remained alone and, quite likely for the first time in his life, effectively silent, never appearing again in the work of Kierkegaard as an author. However, as an author under review by other Kierkegaardian pseudonymous see COR, 108–17. see P.L. møller, “to mr. Frater taciturnus, Chief of Part three of stages on Life’s way,” in COR, supplement, 104–5. 143 SKS 14, 87 / COR, 47. 144 SKS 14, 87–8 / COR, 47–9. 145 SKS 14, 87 / COR, 47. 146 SKS 14, 87 / COR, 47–8. 147 SKS 14, 87 / COR, 48. 141 142

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authors, Frater taciturnus would have a somewhat longer life. His productions are engaged fundamentally by Johannes Climacus, who in “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature,” from the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, argues that differently from Constantin Constantius’ relation to Repetition, in which the latter as its author also plays roles, Frater taciturnus, in relation to his lengthier writing (“ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ”), “stands entirely outside as ‘a street inspector.’ ”148 Johannes Climacus also illuminates the relationship between Frater taciturnus and Quidam, by mentioning that the latter is situated in the direction of inwardness, whereas the former “is essentially a humorist and precisely thereby repellingly manifests the new immediacy.”149 more interestingly, though, Kierkegaard, in The Point of View, which would remain unpublished until 1859, would himself acknowledge the very mutation presented in the last part of our article by saying: at one time (in a little article by Frater taciturnus in Fædrelandet) i carried the issue as close to eccentricity as possible—certainly not out of eccentricity. on the contrary, i was very well aware of what i was doing, that i was acting responsibly, that not to do it would have been irresponsible. i did it (and precisely in a newspaper article that made contact with town gossip from start to finish) because to me it was very important to provoke attention upon this point, which is achieved neither by ten books that develop the doctrine of the single individual nor by ten lectures on the subject, but in these days is achieved simply and solely by getting the laughter aimed at oneself, by making people somewhat angry, and then by getting them mockingly to reproach one again and again and continually for that—precisely for that which one wants inculcated and, if possible, brought to the knowledge of all. this is unconditionally the surest kind of tutoring. but anyone who is to effect something must know his age—and then have the courage to risk the danger of using the surest means.150

as we have seen, Frater taciturnus plays a fundamental role in terms of the inner economy of Kierkegaard’s production: from a sort of nineteenth-century beckett, in the sense of being a novelist fundamentally interested in experimenting with a rhetoric of silence, he shifted to socio-political stridency. as such, he contains within his “two lives” the very movement from book to newspaper writing, which characterizes the whole of Kierkegaard’s authorship.

SKS 7, 264 / CUP1, 290. SKS 7, 265 / CUP1, 291. see also John Lippitt, “Humor and irony in the ‘Postscript,’ ” in Kierkegaard’s ‘Concluding Unscientific Postscript’: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick a. Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, p. 153 and watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, p. 402. 150 SKS 16, 94–5 / PV, 114–15. 148 149

bibliography Fendt, gene, “is Works of Love a work of Love,” in Sex, Love, and Friendship: Studies of the Society for the Philosophy of Sex and Love, 1977–1992, ed. by alan soble, amsterdam and atlanta: rodopi 1997, pp. 473–85. — “writ against the religious drama: Frater taciturnus vs. søren Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard Revisited: Proceedings from the Conference Kierkegaard and the Meaning of Meaning It: Copenhagen, May 5–9, 1996, ed. by niels Jørgen Cappelørn and Jon stewart, berlin, new york: walter de gruyter 1997 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 1), pp. 51–3. Frandsen, Finn, “Constantin Constantius, Hilarius bogbinder, william afham, Frater taciturnus, Quidam—og Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard-pseudonymitet, ed. by birgit bertung, Paul müller, and Fritz norlan, Copenhagen: reitzels Forlag 1993, pp. 116–31. González, Darío, “Suspended Reflections: The Dialectic of Self-Enclosure in Kierkegaard’s ‘guilty?/not guilty?,’ ” in Stages on Life’s way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), p. 175; p. 183; p. 185. gredal Jensen, Finn and Kim ravn, “the genesis of ‘a First and Last explanation,’ ” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2003, pp. 419–31. greenspan, daniel, Passion of Infinity: Kierkegaard, Aristotle and the Rebirth of Tragedy, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2008 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 19), pp. 169–94, p. 237, pp. 261–4. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 324. Hertel, Hans, “P.L. møller and romanticism in danish Literature,” in Kierkegaard and His Contemporaries, ed. by Jon stewart, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2003 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 10), pp. 356–72. Kirmmse, bruce H., “Poetry, History—and Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2010, pp. 49–68. Kondrup, Johnny, “meir goldschmidt: the Crossed-eyed Hunchback,” in Kierkegaard and His Danish Contemporaries, tome iii, Literature, Drama and Aesthetics, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2009 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 7), pp. 105–47. Landkildehus, søren “the technique of Critique,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), p. 32. mackey, Louis, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 1–38; p. 295.

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oubinha, oscar Parcero, “Loquere ut videam. ‘guilty?/not guilty?’ and the writing of irony,” in Kierkegaard and the Challenges of Infinitude, ed. by José miranda Justo, Elisabete M. de Sousa, and René Rosfort, Lisbon: Centro de Filosofia da universidade de Lisboa 2013, pp. 93–103. Pattison, George, “Art in an Age of Reflection,” in Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge and new york: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 76–100. Poole, roger, “søren Kierkegaard and P.L. møller: erotic space shattered,” in The Corsair Affair, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1990 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 13), pp. 141–61. Purver, Judith, “achim von arnim: Kierkegaard’s encounters with a Heidelberg Hermit,” in Kierkegaard and His German Contemporaries, tome iii, Literature and Aesthetics, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2008 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 6), pp. 16–22. sponheim, Paul, “introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Stages on Life’s Way, trans. by walter Lowrie, new york: schocken 1967, pp. 5–14. thompson, Josiah, The Lonely Labyrinth: Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Works, Carbondale: southern illinois university Press 1967, p. 170. walsh, sylvia, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania university Press 1994, pp. 181–2. watkin, Julia, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001, p. 402.

H.H.: a guerrilla writer after theologians…and more Paul martens

H.H. is neither a prominent nor a popular pseudonym in søren Kierkegaard’s corpus—those designations are held by the likes of Johannes de silentio, Johannes Climacus, anti-Climacus, and vigilius Haufniensis. in fact, only two of Kierkegaard’s essays—“does a Human being Have the right to Let Himself be Put to death for the truth?” and “the difference between a genius and an apostle”— are attributed to H.H., and these are published in a genre unique within the corpus: “ethical-religious essays.”1 H.H. shares, with the pseudonym a.F....2 the distinction of at least two initials, which is more than that allotted to a and b in Either/Or but significantly less than that allotted to A.B.C.D.E.F. Godthaab of the unpublished Writing Sampler. the impalpable identity of H.H. goes deeper: the particular choice of the letters H.H. to represent the author is unexplained and open to speculation; Kierkegaard did not consider these essays to “stand in the authorship”;3 and, going to the extreme to deny H.H. a vivid identity, the essays attributed to him are allegedly published posthumously.4 yet, Kierkegaard singles out the little book of two essays written by H.H. because it plays an exceptional role in the corpus: “it is like a navigational mark by which one steers but, note well, in such a way that the pilot understands precisely that he is to keep a certain distance from it. It defines the boundary of the authorship.”5 in his journals, Kierkegaard also refers to the essays as “a point of view” that has the character of a signal.6 in his journals, Kierkegaard drafted a plan to publish six essays in “a Cycle of ethicalreligious essays.” of these, only the third and sixth of the proposed essays were eventually published as Two Ethical-Religious Essays. see Pap. iX b 1–6 / WA, supplement, 213. 2 a.F.... is the pseudonymous author of “who is the author of Either/Or?” an article that Kierkegaard published in The Fatherland on February 27, 1843 (SKS 14, 49–51 / COR, 16). 3 SKS 13, 12n / PV, 6n. 4 The inscription on the title page of the first essay includes the comment: “A Posthumous work of a solitary Human being” (SKS 11, 57 / WA, 51). this comment has led Joakim garff to conclude that “H.H. is dead.” see Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 629. 5 SKS 13, 12n / PV, 6n. 6 SKS 22, 36–7, nb 11:53 / JP 6, 6407. 1

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in making these strong claims concerning the role of these essays, Kierkegaard presents his readers with a bit of a conundrum, namely, the question of how to reconcile the relationship between the defining nature of these essays and their indefinable pseudonymous author. Or, to restate, Kierkegaard’s readers are forced to try to make sense of Kierkegaard’s use of a vanishing author to establish a fixed point of reference within his authorship. the purpose of this article, therefore, is twofold: (a) to illuminate how Kierkegaard’s Two Ethical-Religious Essays are intimately tied up with the identity of H.H. and (b) why Kierkegaard would suggest that the essays would “essentially be able to interest only theologians.”7 to accomplish this task, i begin with a brief summary of the two essays attributed to H.H. on this foundation i then outline the rationale Kierkegaard employed in creating the role and (lack of) identity of H.H. In conclusion, I briefly examine the relationship between Kierkegaard and H.H. in an attempt to suggest that Kierkegaard’s resigned admission that H.H. may interest only theologians belies the fact that the essays of H.H. are a broadside aimed at nineteenth-century danish Christianity in toto. I. The Central Issues of Two Ethical-Religious Essays Identifying Kierkegaard’s pseudonym with the fictitious subject that appears in the Introduction of the first essay, Bruce Kirmmse describes H.H. as “a very earnest Christian who has received a strict pietistic upbringing—not unlike sK’s own Herrnhut-style experience.”8 along similar lines, Joakim garff claims that H.H. was “a determined gentleman [that] was not at all marked by the throbbing jollity we generally encounter in Kierkegaard’s characters.”9 both Kirmmse and garff draw their understanding of the identity of H.H., at least in part, from the content and character of the essays themselves. i agree with this interpretive move, yet i would also suggest that the above descriptions are irrelevant to the fundamental role that the identity of H.H. plays in Kierkegaard’s authorship. to justify this claim, at least a cursory summary of Two Ethical-Religious Essays is needed, to which i turn immediately. each of these essays, published together on may 19, 1849, concentrates on its own central issue. The issue that occupies the first essay takes the form of a question, namely, “does a human being have the right to let himself be put to death for the truth?” And, in order to find an answer to this question, H.H. breaks the question into two more specific questions: (1) Does Jesus Christ have the right to let himself be put to death for the truth? and (2) do ordinary—sinful—human beings have the right to let themselves be put to death for the truth? unsurprisingly, H.H. concludes that, yes, Jesus Christ did have the right to allow himself to be put to death for the truth. after developing an account of why people would desire to kill Jesus, H.H. claims that this is the claim made by Kierkegaard in the general preface to the two essays (SKS 11, 53 / WA, 49). 8 bruce H. Kirmmse, Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, bloomington and indianapolis: indiana university Press 1990, p. 332. 9 garff, Søren Kierkegaard, p. 626. 7

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Jesus rightfully allowed himself to be put to death because he was the atonement for the very same people who killed him.10 the answer to the second question is neither as clear nor as quick in arriving. one difficulty of the question, when framed with reference to sinful human beings, is that the Christian who knows the truth and lets herself be killed accepts the responsibility of allowing another to assume the guilt of committing murder; ordinary Christians, unlike Jesus, cannot atone for the guilt of the murder committed against them. A second difficulty is quantifying or even justifying the level of confidence that must be possessed in order to claim that truth is decisively on one’s side, to claim that one is in “absolute possession of the truth.”11 In order to resolve these difficulties, H.H. suggests three possible answers: (a) a Christian among pagans is in the right to let herself be put to death for the truth because the difference between them is absolute and “being put to death is also the absolute expression for the absolute difference” (and this is the role of martyr);12 (b) a Christian among Christians is not in the right to let herself be put to death for the truth because this would be an act of excessive pretension;13 while also admitting (c) that it is not inconceivable that a Christian may have the right to allow herself to be put to death for championing the position that one does not have the right to let oneself be put to death for the truth.14 the issue that dominates the second essay is located behind the contrast in the stated title: the difference between a genius and an apostle.15 the essay’s argument is straightforward and polemically oriented against what H.H. perceived to be a fundamental categorical confusion of his day, namely, the collapse of a call from god into the aesthetic category of genius, that is, against the collapse of immanence and transcendence: “in this way an erroneous scholarship has confused Christianity, and from the scholarship the confusion has in turn sneaked into the religious address, so that one not infrequently hears pastors who in all scholarly naiveté bona fide prostitute Christianity.”16 For H.H., the apostle is one “who is called and appointed by god and sent by him on a mission” while the genius is “immediacy, natural qualifications; the genius is born”17—in these and many other ways H.H. asserts the qualitative difference see SKS 11, 64–71 / WA, 58–66. SKS 11, 78 / WA, 73. 12 SKS 11, 90 / WA, 86. 13 SKS 11, 88 / WA, 84. Kirmmse identifies an equivocal element in this answer: Kierkegaard’s occasional equation of danish Christendom with paganism. see Kirmmse, Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, pp. 334–6. 14 SKS 11, 89 / WA, 85. 15 much of the argument of “the difference between a genius and an apostle” was drawn from Kierkegaard’s larger unpublished The Book on Adler (and all references to adolph Peter adler, a danish pastor and contemporary of Kierkegaard, are elided in the essay). Therefore, one can often find the issues discussed by H.H. in this essay taken up in broader conversations surrounding The Book on Adler. see, for example, arnold b. Come, Kierkegaard as Theologian: Recovering My Self, montreal and Kingston: mcgill-Queen’s university Press 1997, p. 21. 16 SKS 11, 97 / WA, 93. 17 SKS 11, 99 / WA, 95. 10 11

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between the two. what makes this qualitative difference decisive is the real issue at the heart of the second essay: “the most important ethical-religious concept: authority.”18 in order to illustrate or display this category, H.H. appeals to Christ in a manner that circles back to the argument of the first essay. H.H. claims that it is Jesus Christ, the God-man, who “possesses the specific quality of authority” and Christ, therefore, taught with authority.19 to explicate the intertwining of the essays succinctly, Kierkegaard notes the following in a journal entry: to let oneself be put to death for the truth is the expression for possessing absolute truth; corresponding to this is a qualitative difference…from other people—there we have the apostle. therefore, no human being has a right to this—there we have the genius. authority is precisely what is required, but the genius has no authority.20

For the moment, let us allow that Kierkegaard has accurately even if inadequately summarized the links between and the central issues within the Two Ethical-Religious Essays that have been sketched above. if this is the case, however, why is H.H. needed to communicate this message, especially if garff is right that Kierkegaard was planning to publish the essays under his own name and chose the letters “H.H.” only “at the last moment?”21 II. Kierkegaard’s Rationale for H.H. according to Kierkegaard, both of these essays were written before 1848; both of these essays were, however, published in 1849. the timing of their publication is not unimportant. already in 1847, Kierkegaard vacillated between an initial plan to publish a cycle of six essays together and a subsequent plan to publish the essays individually or in groups of two. Commenting on how they might be published according to the later plan, Kierkegaard indicated that they should be published under the pseudonyms “H H, F F, P P.” He then continues: “they could then, like guerillas, accompany the publication of the three books for awakening.22 but precisely because their role is that of guerillas, they must appear in doses as small as possible.”23 Guerillas are, by definition, those that participate in irregular or independent warfare, and this is what Kierkegaard considers the task of H.H. but, what is the war they are to be involved in? the publication of the essays, even if their arguments

SKS 22, 152, nb12:12 / JP 6, 6447. SKS 11, 105 / WA, 102. 20 SKS 22, 29, nb11:37 / JP 3, 2653. of course, Kierkegaard’s conclusion is technically wrong in the sense that the apostle is a human being and yet has a right to this to the extent that the apostle acts on Christ’s authority. what he seems to mean in this journal entry, rather, is that none of his contemporaries (including himself) have this right. 21 garff, Søren Kierkegaard, p. 627. 22 according to the note provided by Howard and edna Hong, Kierkegaard is here referring to the three parts of Practice in Christianity. see WA, explanatory notes, p. 296. 23 SKS 21, 350, nb10:182 / JP 6, 6387. 18 19

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are supposedly indifferent to time, is not entirely without a martial context— Kierkegaard, even if sarcastically, suggests that the events of 1848 altered all conditions that what previously was wisdom has now become nonsense, and on the other hand even the stupidest nonsense has become wisdom if it is said during or after the singular year 1848, which in its “great hullabaloo” has got anybody and everybody, the whole militia, disguised as “thinkers,” employed in discussion, and has granted the “thinkers” some opportunity to take a holiday.24

the events of 1848 were, for Kierkegaard, no mere abstract events. alastair Hannay rightly notes that these events provided concrete new expressions—the constitutional monarchy and the people’s church—of the perennial aspiration of finite institutions to usurp the true role of religion.25 H.H. emerges out of this particular historical matrix in which the life-and-death struggles of the true Christian are much more difficult than those of the “political hero.”26 but, if Kierkegaard allows context to play a role in shaping the cause or function of H.H., he moves in the exact opposite direction when he turns to address the content of the essays. The first strategy that Kierkegaard uses to hide the identity of H.H. is to use the pseudonym himself to describe “the whole thing as fiction, ‘a poetical venture.’ ”27 H.H. maintains this posture from the beginning to the end of the first essay and, for this reason, the character of the man in the story is essentially irrelevant. once this claim is established by Kierkegaard, he is then free to argue in two directions: (1) toward the total erasure of the author—because the work is a fiction, the character of the author is also irrelevant…which is supremely heightened by identifying the author as dead, “unless one prefers to say that he never existed”;28 and (2) toward an exclusive fixation on “thought content”—the first essay is poetical in “the same sense as a Platonic dialogue,” which Kierkegaard understands as a form of the didactic approach that depends on a created personality that is only incidentally related to the thought content.29 whichever direction Kierkegaard takes in this strategy, however, the terminus is the same. the second strategy, employed with reference to the second essay, is simply to provide no self-referential commentary at all. in short, the character, personality, or identity of H.H. is entirely irrelevant to the coherence of the argument for the difference between a genius and an apostle. but, even Kierkegaard recognizes that this argument only works as long as the alleged author is unrecognizable to the extent that the alleged author claims to be neither a genius nor an apostle. the same could be said of the possibility of martyrdom in the first essay. Therefore, the identity of H.H. SKS 22, 20, nb11:23 / WA, 219. see alastair Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 372. Kierkegaard’s comment that “almost every political movement is, instead of progress to the rational, a retrogression to the irrational” accurately reveals Kierkegaard’s disdain for the politics of 1848. see Pap. iX b 24 / WA, supplement, 231. 26 see Pap. iX b 24 / WA, supplement, 231. 27 SKS 11, 93 / WA, 88. H.H. is, in this context, referring to the first essay. 28 SKS 22, 29, nb11:38 / WA, supplement, 236. 29 SKS 22, 30, nb11:41 / JP 6, 6400. 24 25

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is essentially important in that it is important that H.H. have no essential identity. in this way, H.H. becomes a guerilla writer for the purpose of clarifying the qualitative nature of positions of eminence—the martyr, the apostle, and the genius—while claiming none. to keep the focus of his reader on the “thought content” of the essays, Kierkegaard attempted to keep his own identity as hidden from his reader as that of H.H. apparently he was successful enough in accomplishing this ruse that even Peter Christian Kierkegaard, his brother, was “stunned” when he was informed by søren that he had written the two essays—“it was an awkward situation.”30 III. Kierkegaard’s Relation to H.H. despite all that is said above concerning the lack of identity attributed to H.H., Kierkegaard’s own identity is deeply intertwined in the arguments of these essays. what i mean by this statement is that all the evidence points to the conclusion that Kierkegaard himself seems to hold the same beliefs as those expressed by H.H. i take garff to mean something like this when he states that H.H. is a sort of personal cipher for Kierkegaard.31 it also appears that the author of the review of Two EthicalReligious Essays published in Kirketidende on July 21, 1849—the author who opined that H.H. must be “a very young author who has read mag. Kierkegaard”— also grasped the resemblance between these essays and Kierkegaard’s writings.32 of course, something like this would have to be the case for Kierkegaard to state, as indicated above, that these essays define the boundary of his authorship. the boundary to which Kierkegaard refers here divides the apostle and the martyr (and even the truth-witness) from the genius. the former act on divine authority; the latter recognizes no authority beyond himself. And how does the boundary define Kierkegaard’s authorship? He confesses: “if any information about me is to be sought in the essays, then it is this: that i am a genius—not an apostle, not a martyr.”33 this boundary signals a stopping place and a beginning; this boundary limns the limits of immanence and the piercing authority of transcendence.34 on this basis, Kierkegaard emphatically asserts that the boundary guards him “against blasphemy and against profanely confusing the religious sphere, which i devoutly am doing my utmost to uphold and secure against prostitution by confused and presumptuous thinking.”35 the navigational mark, the boundary, the signal, and the point of view— all of these images are piled upon one another in an attempt to trumpet the particular character of Kierkegaard’s writing: without authority. Publicly, Kierkegaard used “the accounting,” which was eventually published in 1851, to draw forward SKS 22, 406, nb14:102 / JP 6, 6557. garff, Søren Kierkegaard, p. 627. 32 SKS 22, 152, nb12:12 / JP 6, 6447. 33 SKS 22, 36, nb11:53 / JP 6, 6407. 34 For a differing account of the role of the first essay as a signal, see Jacob Bøggild, “H.H.—Poet or martyr?” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon d. marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, pp. 171–8. 35 SKS 22, 37, nb11:53 / JP 6, 6407. 30 31

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“the difference between a genius and an apostle” in order to claim explicitly that “the genius is without authority.”36 a few lines later, he continued, with an odd sort of modesty: “this in turn is the category of my whole authorship: to make aware of the religious, the essentially Christian—but ‘without authority.’ ”37 it would be easy and clean to end with this conclusion. it would be quite satisfying to conclude that Kierkegaard embraced and wrote, as he claims, within the category of genius spelled out by H.H. but Kierkegaard is almost never that easy. the sticking point lies in the final lines of “The Difference between a Genius and an Apostle.” To bring the essay to a close, H.H. writes that lyrical authors only care about the joys, pains, and efforts of the production. they do not care about enlightening people, about helping people onto the right road, or about accomplishing something. in short, they have no “in order to.” “and so it is with every genius. no genius has an ‘in order to.’ ”38 but, the entirety of Two Ethical-Religious Essays is published “in order to” provide conceptual clarity for Christians (positively understood) or “in order to” challenge “the erroneous exegesis and speculative thought” that has confused the essentially Christian (negatively understood)!39 the various purposes or ends—for what else is an “in order to”?—that are attributed to H.H. here are repeated, varied, and expanded many times throughout Kierkegaard’s corpus because Kierkegaard self-consciously understood that his writing, his art, served a telos outside itself (the task of “becoming a Christian,” for example).40 The final conundrum we are left with, therefore, must remain unresolved in this context: either Kierkegaard disagrees with H.H. on the definition of a genius (and therefore probably on the definition of an apostle as well), or the categories shared by H.H. and Kierkegaard entail more slippage than initially indicated in Two Ethical-Religious Essays (and i think this to be likely), or Kierkegaard’s self-understanding is simply incoherent. and there may be other options that would resolve this ambiguity. whatever the case may be, it is clear that Kierkegaard constructed H.H. for a particular purpose, namely, to tackle the confusion he perceived to be permeating danish Christianity. H.H. was employed, among other things, to clarify what it means to live and perhaps die for the truth, to be called and sent on a mission by god, and to be gifted with aesthetic gifts. granted, it may be that only theologians would be interested in such matters. but, in fact, H.H. doggedly pursues anyone who desires to follow Jesus and anyone who is confused about Christianity, including the heterodox, the ultra-orthodox, and the generally thoughtless.41 in this way, H.H.—though unknown and unseen—acknowledges responsibility for the incipient skirmishes with Kierkegaard’s Christian contemporaries. but this is not the end of the story. in time, anti-Climacus and then Kierkegaard himself would join H.H. in what we now recognize as a full-blown attack on Christendom. 36 37 38 39 40 41

SKS 13, 12n / PV, 6n. ibid. see also SKS 22, 41, nb11:64 / WA, supplement, 238–9. SKS 11, 111 / WA, 108. see SKS 11, 97 / WA, 93. see SKS 13, 16 / PV, 8. see SKS 11, 97 / WA, 93.

bibliography arbaugh, george e. and george b. arbaugh, Kierkegaard’s Authorship: A Guide to the Writings of Kierkegaard, rock island, illinois: augustana College Library 1967, pp. 288–95. barrett, Lee C., “Kierkegaard and the Problem of witnessing while yet being a sinner,” in Without Authority, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 18), pp. 147–76. beabout, gregory r. and randall Colton, “ethical-religious education in Kierkegaard’s ‘the difference between a genius and an apostle,’” in Without Authority, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 18), pp. 235–54. bøggild, Jacob, “H.H.—Poet or martyr?” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon d. marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, pp. 171–8. garff, Joakim, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, pp. 626–41. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, pp. 369–75. Hong, Howard v. and edna H. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Without Authority, ed. Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 1997, pp. xiv–xv. Kirmmse, bruce H., Kierkegaard in Golden Age Denmark, bloomington and indianapolis: indiana university Press 1990, pp. 331–9. Leach, stephen Cole and andrew J. burgess, “Five versions in search of an author: writing and revision in Kierkegaard’s The Book on Adler,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), pp. 143–66. nelson, a.P., “revelation and the revealed: the Crux of the ethical-religious Stadium,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), pp. 67–95.

Hilarius bookbinder: the realm of truth and the world of books elisabete m. de sousa

Hilarius bookbinder is the editor of Stages on Life’s Way, no doubt the most overtly dialogical book in Kierkegaard’s authorship. “Lectori benevolo!,”1 the preface by the bookbinder turned editor and publisher, is conceived to create a very close relation with the reader, in deep contrast with the modalities of communication of the chapters of Stages on Life’s Way, which tend to increase the effect of communication in double reflection in various ways. Under the form of the report about the writings now published, Hilarius Bookbinder confides in the reader his own life as bookbinder, and his personal details as widower and father; moreover, the preface also contains relevant information providing insight into the explanations concerning his pseudonymity, given by Kierkegaard a year later in “a First and Last explanation,” in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.2 as a rule, Hilarius bookbinder’s contribution has been given little attention by the vast majority of analysts, although many commentators highlight autobiographical elements. For example, it is claimed that n.C. møller, one of Kierkegaard’s bookbinders, was a role model for Hilarius bookbinder. the reference in “Lectori benevolo!” to israel Levin’s book of samples of handwriting is also noted.3 in sum, in most critical texts, bookbinder obviously deserves a mention as publisher of one of the author’s major and longest works, but he normally loses in popularity to Frater taciturnus, Quidam, and wilhelm afham. as a result, most of the time, the content of “Lectori benevolo!” and bookbinder’s role in the chain of Kierkegaardian personae who are involved in the discussion of the category of author have been neglected.4 yet, “Lectori benevolo!” stands as another entry in the vade mecum that the different Kierkegaard authors had been offering to the reader, usually in the prefaces, or introductions to chapters, of the works published by Kierkegaard et al. until then, a practice that continued even after 1846. one is tempted to think that a few of the

SKS 6, 11–14 / SLW, 3–6. SKS 7, 569–73 / CUP1, 625–30. 3 israel Levin, Album af nulevende danske Mænds og Qvinders Haandskrifter. Til Brug ved Skriftlæsning i Skolerne, Copenhagen: b.a. meyers Forlag 1846. 4 the bibliography listed in this article only includes the references to Hilarius Bookbinder that go beyond his identification as author of Stages on Life’s Way, or the elucidation of the pseudonym’s name. 1 2

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commentators might resent bookbinder’s contemptuous words for the men of “high standing” in his opening paragraph, but the oblivion imposed on bookbinder clearly becomes understandable, once the authorial frames in each of the chapters of the book he published become known, which, especially when taken together, make the episodes concerning the finding of the manuscripts and their publication as actually narrated in “Lectori benevolo!” sound trivial. bookbinder is indeed responsible for the publication of three “studies by various Persons,” which by themselves stand as dissimilar kinds of narratives cast into a mixture of modes of indirect communication, a point that deserves to be remembered before the necessary detailed account of the persona and words of this remarkable bookbinder. The first study, “In Vino Veritas,” is presented as “a recollection by william afham,” and accordingly afham turns out to be a case of doing what he says, and saying what he does, to borrow Johannes de silentio’s commentary on descartes,5 since afham kindly invites the reader, in his introduction, to listen to his theory of recollection, and then offers his own recollection of five speeches on love, delivered during a symposium; here, there are a significant number of guests which include reappearances of three former pseudonym creations, which have different roles in the authorial and editorial tasks: a former editor (victor eremita), an author (Constantin Constantius), and an author (Johannes, the seducer) who became one because he was edited by another author (a.) who in turn had become an author because he was published by eremita. the story of the manuscript of the second study, “some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections” by a Married Man, is picaresque to say the least—after the banquet, eremita meets Judge william and his wife in the woods, they have a chat, eremita learns that he has a manuscript and feels it is his right to publish it, since he had after all been the Judge’s publisher in Either/Or, Part two, but william afham snatches the manuscript from him. so now, Judge william as the married man, in the untitled introduction, sets the key for the whole chapter, in constant dialogue with a and b from Either/Or, Parts one and two. the third study, “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty’ ” by Quidam, repeats the intimacy of the form of diary, this time including autonomous small tales, instead of letters, as had been the case in “The Seducer’s Diary.” Nonetheless, it achieves a higher level of double-reflection, what Howard Hong describes as “an existential dialectic in double-reflection,” since it is not a question of communication in double-reflection, but a case of existence in double-reflection.6 and if a is quite brief in his introduction to Johannes’ diary in Either/Or, Part one, Frater taciturnus compensates for the few pages of his own “notice: owner sought”7 with a hundred-page “Letter to the reader,”8 prompted by Quidam’s diary. At first sight, the structure of these chapters immediately recalls eremita’s description of the narrative structure of “the seducer´s diary,” as “an old literary device,” which he expressed as the idea that “one author becomes enclosed within the other like the boxes in a Chinese puzzle,”9 and Eremita’s analogy finds its 5 6 7 8 9

SKS 4, 101 / FT, 5. Howard v. Hong, in “Historical introduction,” in SLW, xi–xii. SKS 6, 175–9 / SLW, 187–91. SKS 6, 369–454 / SLW, 398–494. SKS 2, 11 / EO1, 9.

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ultimate example in Stages on Life’s Way, taken together as a book, and/or in each chapter separately, where the idea of enclosure is recurrent. in fact, in his “notice,” Frater taciturnus describes the lake as an enclosed space,10 and Quidam’s manuscript is found inside a box whose key is actually inside;11 moreover, the whole stands as a case of Kierkegaardian repetition of eremita’s findings, since the papers by A and B were originally in the hidden compartment of the desk, and once they had been accidentally found, they were quickly enclosed back in a box. Conversely, Hilarius bookbinder’s bundle of papers spent their life indoors, but they prove to be more able to provide a wide range of occasions and uses than Eremita’s findings, as we shall now see by a close reading of his preface, where the stances and/or themes and activities of the authors of the now published manuscripts are reproduced in a nutshell: recollection, married life and the role of the woman, confiding, counseling, the uses of reading and writing, editing, accidental findings and meetings, the roles of the reader and the writer, and so forth. bookbinder’s address to the reader starts and ends with considerations that, despite their topicality in many other moments of the authorship, nonetheless stand out because of the straightforwardness of the publisher’s claims—i refer to the issue of honesty on being or becoming an author, and to the distinct differentiation here made between “the realm of truth” and “the world of books.”12 these remarks on the how the “true” literati are obviously expected to look down on a book published by someone who has a minor job in “the world of books” are more than mocking observations, which would otherwise be read as a sort of follow-up to nicolaus notabene’s stance in Prefaces, concerning the intellectual milieu in Copenhagen, and Johan Ludvig Heiberg in particular. in fact, notabene painstakingly constructed a narrative satire that unifies the eight prefaces (plus his own preface to the prefaces) and his sharp observations. although they are absolutely to the point and leave the reader with no doubts regarding their target, they are part of a tight fictionalizing strategy, are set with the double purpose of enabling the author to express his witty sarcasm, and at the same time, to feel sheltered from any public charges of grievance or insult. on the other side, bookbinder’s honesty impudently pushes the “distinguished professor,” “the man of high standing,”13 “the literary world”14 against the wall, the moment they read the title page: the studies are announced as the work of unnamed and various authors (the danish Studier af Forskjellige renders it more emphatically), whereas the publisher’s emblematic name highlights how he rejoices in his art as bookbinder, more than merely denoting someone who is fleetingly happy about this particular opportunity of offering to the public what he collected and delivered to the press, and published. even if “the literary world” might eventually not read the book, as Hilarius bookbinder hints in the opening paragraph, it cannot avoid the intrusion of this character who in their eyes is an outsider. bookbinder agrees with them, and the bookbinder who has become a 10 11 12 13 14

SKS 6, 176–7 / SLW, 187–8. SKS 6, 178–9 / SLW, 189–90. SKS 6, 11 / SLW, 3. ibid. SKS 6, 14 / SLW, 6.

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publisher obviously belongs to “the realm of the truth,” and this is why he clearly separates two worlds, implying that those who live in the latter do not live in the former, and vice versa. the distinct differentiation between “the realm of truth” and “the world of books”15 is thus not between truth and fiction, or between real and imaginary worlds. Hilarius bookbinder knows his trade well, and as we shall see from his conversation with the young philosophy candidate, he quickly grasps that books are constructs with different degrees of elaboration and art, so much so, that “the truthful history of the book”16 is a detailed account of the vicissitudes endured by a bundle of manuscripts on their way to becoming a book, and not an account of the actual content of the book, or of its authors. truth in “Lectori benevolo!” is then being true in what you do, being truthful in your recollection, and this kind of truth is also present in the instructor-candidate whose advice and opinion prove to be determinant for the publication of the manuscripts. in fact, this criterion of truth is also present in Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous production as a whole, since one is aware of a necessary division between two worlds. one world, his “realm of truth,”17 allows Kierkegaard to exert his creativity with the plethora of authors which are used as a means of being truthful to himself, taken in the terms of described by Frederik Christian Sibbern’s description: “[h]e was, inherently and in his innermost being, a very inwardly complicated sort of person”;18 the other world, his “world of books,” is the one where he has to face the “distinguished professor[s],” “the m[e]n of high standing,”19 in order to make his voice heard as an author, and, as we know, although he did make himself heard, he would always feel that he was misunderstood. in a preface where the benevolence of the reader is needed to accept and understand what is said, “the truthful history of the book” is the occasion for Hilarius bookbinder to provide three layers of information, one concerning himself, as bookbinder and family man, another concerning the actual content and quality of the studies by various people, and connecting these two, the depiction of a cameo appearance of Kierkegaard himself as candidate-instructor, who suggests, counsels and has the final word on the publication of the studies. In the third paragraph, bookbinder depicts himself as a “hard-working man and a good citizen,”20 something that by now the reader has no doubts about; in fact, bookbinder had explained in the previous paragraph that he survived both mr. Literatus (the owner of the manuscripts and of a quantity of other books Hilarius had bound) and his wife, as a clear case of overcoming the triple confirmation of man’s vulnerability and the inevitability of death, something that he achieved by the succession of three modalities of wisdom: a german proverb, god’s word (directly, via a bible quotation, and indirectly, via the words of a preacher), and the judgment of his late wife, who, as we shall see, literally speaks from the grave throughout “Lectori benevolo!” He then proceeds to SKS 6, 11 / SLW, 3. ibid. 17 ibid. 18 see Encounters with Kierkegaard, trans. and ed. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 1996, p. 213. 19 SKS 6, 11 / SLW, 3. 20 ibid. 15 16

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explain that, after having bound all the other books of mr. Literatus, the manuscripts were left behind in a box, and his wife had been the only one to manage to trace their origin; since no one had claimed the manuscripts, bookbinder merely stitched them together, in compliance with his late wife’s wish for tidiness in the shop. although it is carried out in the ironically witty fashion of other remarks on married women scattered in Kierkegaard’s works, the cherished recollection of his late wife’s words is fundamental for the fate of the manuscripts, and besides, it fills Bookbinder with a down-to-earth quality, since he now decides to use the manuscripts as material for the practice of script reading and of handwriting for his children, despite the fact that he himself had tried to read them for diversion, but had failed to understand their content. at this point, the world of Kierkegaard’s actuality breaks forth, and the public praise of israel Levin’s collection of samples of handwriting is followed by the appearance of a portrait of “the author of the authors” as the instructor of Bookbinder’s eldest son, an “especially qualified normal-school graduate and candidate in philosophy whom I [sc. Hilarious Bookbinder] knew somewhat and had heard with real edification at vespers in Vor Frelsers Church.”21 if the contemporary reader, or the modern, has not yet grasped who this young man is, bookbinder adds that “he had entirely abandoned studying to be a pastor, since he found out that he was an esthete and a poet.”22 Concerning this point, it is worth underscoring that since Stages on Life’s Way came out on april 28, 1845, and bookbinder’s preface can safely be dated from late 1844, this piece of information somehow clashes with the mainstream interpretations of Kierkegaard’s intention of accepting a rural parish in the aftermath of the Corsair affair. not surprisingly, bookbinder and the candidate get along well and come to terms easily, as co-habitants in “the realm of truth.” the bookbinder recognizes the honesty of the candidate, who knows how to set a fair price to his work (as instructor and literary consultant), and how to keep his word, reading the manuscript and returning it in due time.23 on his side, the candidate, by contributing to the development of his eldest son, acknowledges bookbinder’s qualities as father, and he explicitly recognizes Hilarius as someone who honors his wife’s memory, and his probity as citizen.24 Besides a few remarks concerning honoraries or profits from the publication of these manuscripts, which again remind us of other similar occurrences in Kierkegaard’s production, two other statements by the candidate deserve to be mentioned. The first is used as a persuasive argument to press Hilarius Bookbinder to publish the manuscripts, but it can be read as a self-appraisal of Kierkegaard’s oeuvre, which in my view is by no means ironical versus Kierkegaard himself, or versus bookbinder, but instead, “true” in the above mentioned sense: “it is by printing of worthwhile books such as this that one contributes to the advancement of good and

SKS 6, 14 / SLW, 4. ibid. 23 SKS 6, 13 / SLW, 5. 24 Ibid.: “[F]or not only did Hans make great progress…you, Mr. Hilarius, who have always wished to be able to benefit your fellowmen in some other way than as a bookbinder, as well as to honor your late wife’s memory by some other way than as a bookbinder.” 21 22

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beneficial learning among the children of men in these days when not only money but also faith is becoming a rarity among people.”25 the second statement is reported by Bookbinder in his final remarks, as a kind of addition to his glory and posterity as editor and publisher—he is actually publishing more than one book, since he is publishing “several books…by several authors.”26 besides the obvious fact that such words pinpoint the complex authorial stance in Stages on Life’s Way, it is the extra piece of information that is determinant for encompassing Kierkegaard’s use of pseudonyms: “my learned friend assumes that there must have been a fraternity, a society, or an association of which mr. Literatus had been the head or president and therefore had preserved the papers.”27 although bookbinder states that he has “no opinion on this matter,”28 we know that Kierkegaard does. in Either/Or, Part one, three chapters are papers delivered before the Συμπαρανεκρωμένοι,29 which leads us to think that the idea of using a society as a sort of background or setting for his writings, is more than an occasional device to render verisimilitude to his own writings, or a strategy of exposition inspired by the many examples of societies, quite customary in his day for different purposes. the great number of texts published between 1843 and 1846, signed by an even greater number of authors (if one counts authors of books and chapters, and prefaces as well as editors) accounts for their complex intra-dialogical features, a situation that often brings about conflicts of interpretation. But if we use the abovementioned candidate’s opinion on Hilarius bookbinder’s manuscripts as a hermeneutical key to understand their dialogical vitality, the paradoxes and contradictions between the double-series of works become a constitutive element of an author whose inner discussion of ideas and thought-process are similar to what takes place in “a fraternity, a society, or an association,”30 where members may be united by a common goal but keep their identity and personality. Hence, the pseudonymous authors become not merely agents of “doubly reflected communication,”31 but they gain a dialectical force that can only be fully grasped if they are taken as existing individualities that share their existence in the “indifferent,”32 the one whose “role is the joint role of being secretary, and quite ironically the dialectically reduplicated author of the author or the authors,”33 the “one who has cooperated so that the pseudonyms could become authors.”34 these statements belong to Kierkegaard’s “realm of truth,” and his “world of books” is the world where “[i]n a legal and in a literary sense, the responsibility is mine.”35 this lies in the core of his creative process, and what best SKS 6, 13 / SLW, 5. SKS 6, 14 / SLW, 6. 27 ibid. 28 ibid. 29 “The Tragic in Ancient Drama reflected in the Tragic in Modern Drama,” “Silhouettes,” and “the unhappiest one.” 30 SKS 6, 14 / SLW, 6. 31 SKS 5, 570 / CUP1, 626. 32 ibid. 33 SKS 5, 571 / CUP1, 627. 34 SKS 5, 571 / CUP1, 628. 35 ibid. 25 26

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individualizes Kierkegaard as writer and thinker is indeed this model of exerting poetical creativity, which he took further than ever before.36

On the influence of Robert Schumann’s Davidsbund and the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik in Kierkegaard, see my “Kierkegaard’s musical recollections,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2008, pp. 85–108; especially, pp. 101–3. For an accurate description of the Musikforening, as replica of schumann’s Davidsbund, see anna Harwell Celenza, “imagined Communities made real: the impact of robert schumann’s Neue Zeitschrift für Musik on the Formation of music Communities in the mid-nineteenth Century,” Journal of Musicological Research, vol. 24, no. 1, 2007, pp. 1–26, especially pp. 8–14. 36

bibliography Cappelørn, niels Jørgen, Joakim garff, and Johnny Kondrup, Written Images: Søren Kierkegaard’s Journals, Notebooks, Booklets, Sheets, Scraps and Slips of Paper, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2003, pp. 157–8. dooley, mark, The Politics of Exodus: Søren Kierkegaard’s Ethics of Responsibility, new york: Fordham university Press 2001, pp. 172–3. Frandsen, Finn, “Frater taciturnus, william afham, Quidam, Hilarius bookbinder, Constantin Constantius—og Kierkegaard,” in birgit bertung, Paul müller, and Fritz norlan, Kierkegaard pseudonymitet, Copenhagen: reitzels Forlag 1993, pp. 116–31. Hösle, vittorio, Der philosophische Dialog: eine Poetik und Hermeneutik, munich: beck 2006, p. 147. Keeley, Louise Carroll, “Loving ‘no one,’ Loving everyone: the work of Love in recollecting one dead in Kierkegaard’s Works of Love,” in Works of Love, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (Kierkegaard International Commentary, vol. 16), pp. 211–48; p. 222. Krenzke, Hans-Joachim, Ästhetik und Existenz, würzburg: Königshausen & neumann 2002, p. 31. malantschuk, gregor, Fra Individ til den Enkelte. Problemer omkring friheden og det etiske hos Søren Kierkegaard, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1978, p. 50. (english translation: Kierkegaard’s Concept of Existence, trans. by Howard v. Hong and edna H. Hong, milwaukee: marquette university Press 2003, p. 49.) nelson, Christopher a.P., “soundings of silence: the Lily, the bird, and the dark Knight of the soul in the writings of the soul of søren Kierkegaard,” in Without Authority, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (Kierkegaard International Commentary, vol. 18), pp. 43–84; p. 60, n. 31. Pattison, george, Kierkegaard, the Aesthetic and the Religious: From the Magic Theatre to the Crucifixion of the Image, new york: st. martin’s Press 1992, p. 142. stendahl, brita K., Søren Kierkegaard, boston: twayne Publishers 1976, p. 134. stott, michelle, Behind the Mask: Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymic Treatment of Lessing in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania: bucknell university Press 1993, p. 14. thompson, Josiah, The Lonely Labyrinth; Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Works, Carbondale: southern illinois university Press 1967, p. 170. watkin, Julia, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2000, p. 403.

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westfall, Joseph, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), p. 137.

inter et inter: between actress and Critic Joseph westfall

neither inter et inter nor “the Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an actress” has been very widely discussed among Kierkegaard scholars. It is not difficult to see why: the pseudonym is used only once, in “the Crisis”; the work itself is quite brief, published as a four-part serial article in Fædrelandet; and it is concerned with what seems to be a relatively minor aesthetic matter, two performances of shakespeare’s Juliet in the danish royal theater by the same actress, once as a girl and then again as a more mature woman. to the extent that the work has been discussed by scholars, it is usually treated alongside other works of literary and dramatic criticism in Kierkegaard’s authorship, almost all of them read as tangential to Kierkegaard’s central philosophical and/or theological project. Kierkegaard himself ascribes to it a very specific role in the development of his “essentially religious” authorship1— a little aesthetic article, late in the authorship, serving as a reminder that the author has not matured from an aesthetic to a religious life-view as he has aged, but rather, that the religious was co-present with the aesthetic from the very beginning.2 to the extent that the pseudonymous author of the work has been discussed, it has been in relation to this last, Kierkegaardian concern: the choice of the Latin phrase, inter et inter, translated straightforwardly into english as “between and between,” serves as a further indication that Kierkegaard meant for “the Crisis” to be situated between one thing and another—between the aesthetic and the religious elements of the authorship or between the (mistaken) view that his religious authorship matured out of his aesthetic writings and the (more Kierkegaardian) view that the authorship had been simultaneously aesthetic and religious from the start. thus, it seems that the great bulk of the interest in inter et inter and “the Crisis” is quite straightforwardly understood as interest in the impact of the essay on its apparent object, Johanne Luise Heiberg, as well as in Kierkegaard’s choice to write and publish the piece—interest neither in the content of “the little article”3 nor in the pseudonym who stands as its author. the chief questions asked so far regarding inter et inter have been about the purpose for which Kierkegaard used a fragment of a Latin phrase—interest inter et inter (“there is a difference between the one and SKS 21, 21, nb6:24 / KJN 5, 18. this is a point of view on the authorship that Kierkegaard famously reiterates—in much greater detail—in On My Work as an Author. see SKS 13, 13–14 / PV, 7–8. 3 SKS 21, 21, nb6:24 / KJN 5, 17. 1 2

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the other”)4—instead of his own name when publishing the article in Fædrelandet. on this matter, interpretations vary. alastair Hannay suggests that “inter et inter” is reminiscent of theatrical intermissions.5 samuel mcCormick argues that, with the pseudonym, Kierkegaard is staking out differences between the two Heibergs—Johan Ludvig Heiberg, prominent critic and man of culture, and his wife, Johanne Luise Heiberg, the celebrated actress. on mcCormick’s reading, Kierkegaard sides with Johanne Luise, situating the actress alongside himself and in theoretical opposition to her husband.6 yet another interpretation suggests that Kierkegaard employs the Latin phrase as his pseudonym to indicate a division in the Kierkegaardian authorship itself.7 Little has so far been made of Kierkegaard’s apparent flirtation with the possibility of the anonym, “n.n.,”8 nor with the thoroughly intriguing draft subtitle, “From the Papers of one dead” (which would, if understood as an alternative ascription of authorship, force the comparison with From the Papers of One Still Living, Kierkegaard’s first book which, like “The Crisis,” is concerned with aesthetic issues of artistic production and criticism).9 whatever Kierkegaard’s reason or reasons for using this particular pseudonym, sorting out the name’s special significance can shed only limited light on the pseudonymous author’s personality and purpose in “the Crisis.” more than just a name, inter et inter is the author of the essay, and as that author he10 has a very decided SKS 7, 414 / CUP1, 455. see samuel mcCormick, “inter et inter: between Kierkegaard and the Heibergs,” Søren Kierkegaard Newsletter, vol. 59, 2012, p. 4 and isobel bowditch, “inter et inter: a report on the metamorphosis of an actress,” PhaenEx, vol. 4, no. 1, 2009, pp. 35–6. 5 alastair Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 483, note 40. 6 mcCormick, “inter et inter: between Kierkegaard and the Heibergs,” p. 3 and p. 6. 7 see Howard v. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in CD, p. xvi. 8 Pap. viii–2 b 90:26 / C, supplement, 415. “n.n.” was a common anonym in the literary world of Kierkegaard’s day; it is also used self-referentially by the pseudonymous author of Prefaces, Nicolaus Notabene. Significantly, given the relevance of the Heibergs to “the Crisis,” notabene writes, “i am not Prof. Heiberg. indeed, not being Prof. Heiberg, i am even less than that, i am only n.n.” (SKS 4, 509 / P, 48; translation slightly modified). In both the journals and Prefaces, the Hongs “translate” N.N. as “John Doe.” On the significance of the anonym and this specific translation issue, see Pat Bigelow, “The Brokenness of Philosophic desire: edifying discourses and the embarrassment of the Philosopher,” in Kierkegaard Revisited, ed. by niels Jørgen Cappelørn and Jon stewart, berlin: walter de gruyter 1997 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 1), p. 317, note 6. 9 Pap. viii–2 b 90:1 / C, 412. see Howard v. Hong, “Historical introduction,” in CD, xv; Julia watkin, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001 (Historical Dictionaries of Religions, Philosophies, and Movements, vol. 33), p. 59; and samuel mcCormick, Letters to Power: Public Advocacy without Public Intellectuals, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 2012, p. 8. 10 there is no direct indication of inter et inter’s sex or gender in the essay, and especially given the focus on the work of a female artist, it remains possible that the pseudonymous author is a woman. given Kierkegaard’s actual maleness, however, as well as the custom of referring to the pseudonymous authors as men and the distancing attitude inter et inter takes to women throughout the work, i refer consistently to inter et inter with masculine pronouns here. 4

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take on the art of acting as it presents itself in the case of the actress referred to in the essay’s title—an actress who, although presented as an hypothetical construction, is at least clearly inspired by the very real Johanne Luise Heiberg. inter et inter is not prone to self-reflection in his essay, and as such he does not say very much directly about himself as a person or as an author. this situates him at perhaps the opposite end of the spectrum from Johannes Climacus, a pseudonymous author who has a great store of things to say on the subject of himself. rather, inter et inter reveals himself to his readers almost exclusively negatively—as a contrast to the beliefs and practices of the theater critics of his day. to understand something about inter et inter, we must come to understand what it is he is trying to say in “the Crisis,” and in “the Crisis,” inter et inter is trying to articulate his thoughts on actresses, on theater and art critics, and the responsibilities of the latter when writing about the former. ultimately, inter et inter is found more fully in his theories of stage acting and theater criticism than he is in any self-revelatory comments or gestures. inter et inter is perhaps at his most personal—his most direct, and most genuine— in his expressions of sympathy for the situation of the actress. describing her (and her art) as he does in both the bloom of youth when she is first discovered, as well as later after having established herself as one of the nation’s great actresses, inter et Inter depicts the actress never in a merely flattering but always in a sympathetic light. as he writes in the opening sentence of “the Crisis”: the thought of being an actress, that is, one of eminence, no doubt promptly evokes in most people the idea of a situation in life so enchanting and splendid that in the thought of it they often entirely forget the thorns: the incredibly many banalities, all the unfairness, or at least the misunderstanding with which an actress may have to contend especially in the decisive moments.11

the public misunderstanding of the actress and the life of an actress originates from two basic impulses: on the one hand, attraction to her youth and her femininity; and on the other hand, the inclination to treat the actress when she is an older woman in a flattering and chivalrous, and for that reason condescending and dismissive, way. inter et inter sympathetically laments, “How burdensome and painful at the age of sixteen to have to endure in the form of art criticism the hypocritical bowing and scraping and declarations of love from old bald-headed or half-witted reviewers; how bitter sometime later to have to put up with the brashness of chivalry!”12 the “brashness of chivalry” here masks the belief that an actress’ value stems primarily from her physical appearance—and that her appearance suffers as she ages. naturally, such a view totally fails to consider the actress as an actress. Her art is ignored—when she is young, because she is perceived to be beautiful by the great mass of theatergoers, and when she is older, because fewer and fewer theatergoers perceive her in that way. ultimately, for inter et inter, the nature of the public response to the aging actress says a great deal about the general attitude toward and practice of art criticism in denmark. He writes: 11 12

SKS 14, 93 / C, 303. SKS 14, 94 / C, 305.

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Joseph Westfall when it comes to the feminine, most people’s art criticism has categories and thoughtpatterns essentially in common with every butcher’s assistant, national guardsman, and store clerk, who talk enthusiastically about a damned pretty and devilishly pert wench of eighteen years. these eighteen years, this damned prettiness and this devilish pertness—this is art criticism—and also its bestiality. on the other hand, at the point where, from the esthetic point of view, the interest really begins, there where the inner being beautifully and with intense meaning becomes manifest in the metamorphosis— there the crowd of people falls away.13

in offering his condemnation of such “art criticism”—little more than the sexual objectification of the actress—Inter et Inter presents himself in a different light. unlike “most people,” inter et inter is sensitive to the actress’ inner being, attentive to what he calls “the metamorphosis.” this sensitivity and this attentiveness lead him to a radically different conclusion about the performance of the role of Juliet, since most people expect that the character—a girl of only thirteen in shakespeare’s tragedy—must be performed by an actress of comparable youth in order to be performed convincingly. inter et inter, however, suspects such an attitude of disingenuousness: it is not the artistic success of the play or the performance that are of concern here, but something far baser— something bestial, as he has already noted: what the gallery wants to see is, of course, not an ideal performance, a representation of the ideality—the gallery wants to see miss Juliet, a devilishly lovely and damnably pert wench of eighteen years who plays Juliet or passes herself off as Juliet, while the gallery is entertained by the thought that it is miss n. n. therefore the gallery can, of course, never get it into its head that in order to represent Juliet an actress must essentially have a distance in age from Juliet.14

In so arguing, Inter et Inter tells us three things: first, most people go to the theater when a young actress is performing not to be edified or entertained but to be titillated; second, a genuinely thoughtful art critic would necessarily conclude that an actress performing the role of Juliet must be an older, not a younger, woman; and third, inter et inter is himself just such an art critic. in making this last point, inter et inter gives the reader the most instructive glimpse of his personality in the essay. in the strongest and clearest terms possible, he argues that the interest of an art critic must be in the inner activity of the actress—in her art, rather than in her youth and beauty. He is deeply critical of those critics who write reviews—especially newspaper reviews—of the performances of younger actresses, as if they were engaging in art criticism rather than sexual objectification. He goes so far as to note, “i do not really think that an essentially cultured esthetician could persuade himself to make an actress of sixteen years the subject of a review, especially if she is very beautiful etc.”15 Here, in addition to his persistent condemnation of this mode of popular art criticism, inter et inter places the responsibility for doing better squarely on the shoulders of the critics themselves (rather than their readers, 13 14 15

ibid. SKS 14, 105 / C, 321. Translation slightly modified. SKS 14, 95 / C, 306.

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the public). it is not that the “essentially cultured” aesthetician cannot be persuaded to review the performance of a young actress, but instead that such an aesthetician “could not persuade himself” to do so. it is in light of this assertion, that the mind and the conscience of the essential critic are unified in opposition to the popular criticism of the day, that Inter et Inter seems to feel the need to justify his discussion of the actress as a young woman in “the Crisis.” in this vein, he writes: it is esthetically appropriate for me to speak of this here and to have the joy of speaking of it, because this investigation is ideal and does not concern itself with an actual actress of sixteen years who is contemporary. it is esthetically proper, also for another reason, for me to describe such a first youth; since the real subject of the investigation is the metamorphosis, not even in the thought of the essay am i contemporary with that youthfulness.16

thus, his defense against impropriety is twofold: not only is he merely discussing a hypothetical actress (either an imaginative construction of his own, or the mere memory of an actress who is now older), but in addition, his interest is not in the actress herself, but in the metamorphosis she undergoes that secures her status as an artist. It is not difficult to concede both of these points to Inter et Inter, however, and still to be fascinated by the need he seems to feel to make the point in the first place, that he is not like those other critics whose interest is essentially not an aesthetic interest at all, but is instead interest in the physical charms of a sixteen-year-old girl. inter et inter wants to establish once and for all that on the one side stand the butchers’ assistants, national guardsmen, store clerks and their bestial interest in young girls; on the other side, perhaps on the opposite side of such “art criticism,” stands inter et inter and the metamorphosis. one of the primary means by which we might distinguish between the sort of criticism inter et inter condemns and the sort he practices in “the Crisis,” then, would be to determine the extent to which the critic in question expresses interest in the acting of contemporary youth. inter et inter’s defense against the possible association of his own point of view with those of “most people” is, ultimately, that his interest in the sixteen-year-old actress is both indirect and retrospective. He concerns himself with her only insofar as she is not actually young, but to the extent that she establishes a continuity between her younger and more mature selves through her art. as such, with regard to the young actress he is discussing, inter et inter writes, “to bring to mind once again something that has been frequently stated: if there lived an essential esthetician at the time and he was asked to appraise this actress or one of her performances, he would no doubt say: no, her time has not really come yet.”17 any expression of aesthetic interest in the performances of young women becomes, then, a confession that one is not an “essential aesthetician,” that is, that one’s interest in art is something other than thoroughly serious and genuine. whatever one’s motives, if one cannot observe this simple distinction in one’s criticism, then inter et inter thinks one might as well have no interest in the art at all—becoming not an aesthetician or art critic, but really just 16 17

SKS 14, 96 / C, 307. SKS 14, 100 / C, 314.

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another libidinous spectator in the theater gallery seeking, in one’s theatergoing as well as one’s criticism, little more than the salacious. in addition, however, we learn that inter et inter’s wholly aesthetic, asexual interest in the actress focuses not on the figure of the actress herself, but upon “the metamorphosis.” inter et inter attempts to clarify this notion throughout the essay, but it becomes clearest, i think, in the fourth part—where he draws a distinction between two different sorts of successful actresses. while it seems rather obvious— or would have seemed, to Kierkegaard’s contemporaries in the Copenhagen of 1848—that the two actresses inter et inter has in mind are Johanne Luise Heiberg and anna nielsen, neither is named in the essay itself.18 both sorts of actress are said to have undergone a metamorphosis, but the metamorphoses are very different, and in their difference lies the significance of what the actress playing Juliet for the second time—the actress with whom Inter et Inter is chiefly concerned, the actress corresponding so closely to Heiberg—has accomplished vis-à-vis other actresses. on the one hand, the metamorphosis that the actress like Heiberg has experienced is called “the metamorphosis of potentiation.” the other metamorphosis—the metamorphosis experienced by an actress like nielsen—is, on the other hand, called “the metamorphosis of continuity.”19 the metamorphosis of continuity, inter et inter notes, could be called straightforward perfectibility. it has especially ethical interest and therefore will exceedingly please, indeed convince, as it were, an ethicist who, fighting for his life-view, proudly points to such a phenomenon as his victory and, in quiet inner gratitude, calls such an actress an omnipotent ally, because she, better than he and precisely at one of the most dangerous points, demonstrates his theory.20

this sort of metamorphosis accounts for the lifelong success of actresses whose choice of roles changes as they themselves age, such that the characters they play are always “appropriate” for the physical appearance of the actress herself. thus, such an actress might indeed play the role of Juliet in her youth; as a middle-aged woman, however, she would never think of taking such a role—opting instead to appear on stage performing the roles of middle-aged women—instead of “the girl,” she now plays “the aunt,” “the wife,” or “the mother.” this sort of metamorphosis is the one most in line with most people’s aesthetic categories, since most people, according to inter et inter, are looking for actual, physical youth as the primary criterion for any an explicit discussion of nielsen as an actress occurs in a footnote in Stages on Life’s Way; see SKS 6, 123, note / SLW, 131–2, note. For more thorough discussions of the contrast in Kierkegaard’s (and inter et inter’s) mind between Heiberg and nielsen as actresses, see Hugh s. Pyper, “the stage and stages in a Christian authorship,” in Christian Discourses and The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 17), pp. 301–14; and Janne risum, “towards transparency: søren Kierkegaard on danish actresses,” trans. by annette mester, in Kierkegaard and His Contemporaries: The Culture of Golden Age Denmark, ed. by Jon stewart, berlin: walter de gruyter 2003 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 10), pp. 330–42. 19 SKS 14, 107 / C, 323–4. 20 ibid. 18

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actress playing the role of a young girl like Juliet. Presumably, most people would thus also seek genuine maturity in the actresses playing more mature roles, if not advanced age in any actress playing the role of an elderly woman. naturally, this view of acting and actresses cannot account for inter et inter’s high praise for the other actress’ reprisal later in life of the role of Juliet. inter et inter notes that the metamorphosis of continuity suits the ethicist’s lifeview well, because it demonstrates that life-view in a way that the ethicist himself perhaps cannot. Here, one might think of the second volume of Either/Or, wherein the ethicist attempts to convince the aesthete that true beauty can only be found in the fulfillment of those responsibilities appropriate to one’s age and station in life— that is, in the ethical. For a theater critic committed to the ethical in this sense, an actress returning to the role of Juliet as a mature woman would be as inappropriate as the aesthete’s poetic refusal to settle down: attempting to portray the younger woman demonstrates, not great acting ability, but instead deep personal immaturity and incompleteness, a fragmentation of the self that Judge william, at least, would call “despair.”21 Rather than despair, however, Inter et Inter identifies this other metamorphosis—the metamorphosis of potentiation—with “the highest.”22 rather than following nielsen and the ethicist in attempting to reconcile her outward appearance with the characters she portrays on stage, the essential actress (as inter et inter dubs her) relates herself in her performance inwardly to an idea. this inward relationship eradicates any sense in the actress’ performance that she needs to seem in any external sense like the character she portrays; instead, the likeness she presents has its origin and residence in her internal relationship to the idea. in the case of the role of Juliet, inter et inter notes, the idea in question is “the idea of feminine youthfulness.”23 in relating herself ideally to this idea, the actress becomes young again—not in any finite sense of the term, but timelessly so.24 thus, inter et inter concludes, Time has asserted its rights; it has taken away something from the immediate, the first, the simple, the accidental youthfulness. But in so doing time will in turn specifically make her genius more essentially manifest. in the eyes of the gallery, she has lost; in the sense of ideality, she has gained. the time of the gallery’s confusion of identities is over. if she is to play Juliet, it can no longer be a matter of creating a furore as miss Juliet. if she is to play that part, it must become an eminent performance or, even more correctly, a performance in the eminent sense. and precisely this is the metamorphosis.25

Here, then, inter et inter conclusively distinguishes the actress who has undergone the metamorphosis of potentiation from any other sort of actress, particularly the ethical actress of straightforward perfectibility who has herself undergone the metamorphosis of continuity. Fru Heiberg is no madame nielsen. in addition, however, in siding so fully with potentiation over continuity, ideality over perfectibility, and a timeless 21 22 23 24 25

SKS 3, 186–19 / EO2, 192–5. SKS 14, 96 / C, 307. SKS 14, 104 / C, 319. SKS 14, 105–6 / C, 322. SKS 14, 106 / C, 322.

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return to the beginning over a graceful process of aging into ever more appropriate roles, inter et inter exiles himself from the ethical.26 whether he is yet another example of Kierkegaard’s aesthetic stage, or something else altogether, is, i think, an open question.27 but an ethicist, he is not.

this distinguishes his criticism from the more ethical criticisms of From the Papers of One Still Living and A Literary Review of Two Ages. For detailed treatments of this difference as central to any reading of Kierkegaard as critic, see merete Jørgensen, Kierkegaard som kritiker. En undersøgelse af forholdet mellem det æstetiske og det etiske i Kierkegaards litterære kritik, Copenhagen: gyldendal 1978; george Pattison, “søren Kierkegaard: a theatre Critic of the Heiberg school,” British Journal of Aesthetics, vol. 23, no. 1, 1983, pp. 25–33; and my The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15). 27 For a discussion and defense of this possibility, see my “the actress and an actress in the Life of a Critic: Higher Criticism in ‘the Crisis,’ ” in Christian Discourses and The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress, ed. by Perkins, pp. 321–43. 26

bibliography bowditch, isobel, “inter et inter: a report on the metamorphosis of an actress,” PhaenEx, vol. 4, no. 1, 2009, pp. 30–58. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 483, note 40. Hirsch, emanuel, Kierkegaard-Studien, vols. 1–2, gütersloh: C. bertelsmann 1933, vol. 1, p. 135. Jørgensen, merete, Kierkegaard som kritiker. En undersøgelse af forholdet mellem det æstetiske og det etiske i Kierkegaards litterære kritik, Copenhagen: gyldendal 1978, pp. 185–90. mcCormick, samuel, Letters to Power: Public Advocacy without Public Intellectuals, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 2012, pp. 137–8. — “inter et inter: between Kierkegaard and the Heibergs,” Søren Kierkegaard Newsletter, vol. 59, 2012, pp. 3–7. stendahl, brita K., Søren Kierkegaard, boston: twayne Publishers 1976, p. 65. tammany, Jane ellert, Henrik Ibsen’s Theatre Aesthetic and Dramatic Art: A Reflection of Kierkegaardian Consciousness—Its Significance for Modern Dramatic Interpretation and the American Theatre, new york: Philosophical Library 1980, pp. 85–6. watkin, Julia, Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2001 (Historical Dictionaries of Religions, Philosophies, and Movements, vol. 33), pp. 403–404. westfall, Joseph, “the actress and an actress in the Life of a Critic: Higher Criticism in ‘the Crisis,’ ” in Christian Discourses and The Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an Actress, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 17), pp. 321–43, see pp. 331–43. — The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 226–9; pp. 249–70. ziolkowski, eric, The Literary Kierkegaard, evanston, illinois: northwestern university Press 2011, p. 198.

Johannes Climacus: Humorist, Dialectician, and Gadfly Lee C. barrett

Johannes Climacus is one of the most elusive and controversial characters in Kierkegaard’s repertoire of pseudonyms. according to some commentators, Climacus was transparently a mouthpiece for Kierkegaard’s own opinions; Kierkegaard the clever ventriloquist simply enjoyed displaying his ability to throw his voice. in this view the ideas and arguments articulated by Climacus and those held by Kierkegaard were virtually identical.1 The influential scholar Niels Thulstrup wrote in the 1950s that Climacus’ Philosophical Fragments “cannot be considered a truly pseudonymous work” because “one will find hardly any inconsistency between this work and [Kierkegaard’s] other private and published thought and writings.”2 seen from this perspective, Climacus was the most lean of Kierkegaard’s “thin” pseudonyms. but according to more literarily inclined interpreters, the fact that Climacus describes himself as being a humorist has enormous interpretive consequences. the peculiar stance of the humorist must be taken into account in determining the meaning of the text; Climacus’ words cannot be read straightforwardly as if they were those of Kierkegaard. For example, Louis mackey treated the persona of Climacus as part of Kierkegaard’s general project of subverting fixed, univocal meanings; Climacus’ digressions and shifts of voice and genre militate against any ordinary philosophical or theological reading.3 Roger Poole agreed that the fissures and supplements in Climacus’ texts so destabilize meaning that it is impossible to identify any assertion as Kierkegaard’s position.4 Perhaps nothing that Climacus says should be taken as giving voice to a serious philosophical argument or theological assertion. taking an approach that emphasized textual indeterminacy somewhat less, michael weston regarded Climacus’ humor as a device utilized to discredit the pretensions 1 walter Lowrie, “editor’s introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Concluding Unscientific Postscript, ed. and trans. by david swenson and walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1968, p. xvi. 2 niels thulstrup, “Commentator’s introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments, trans. by david swenson, revised by Howard Hong, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1962, p. lxxxv. 3 Louis mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 133–94. 4 roger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, pp. 140–64.

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of metaphysical speculation; humor is employed in order to undermine impersonal abstraction from life’s first-person ethical challenges.5 in a similar way, michael strawser viewed Climacus’ literature as an ironic subversion of objective certainties that opens the way to the reader’s genuine edification, if the reader assumes interpretive responsibility for reading Climacus that way.6 other expositors detect a self-contradiction in Climacus’ oeuvre that prevents the ascription of anything that Climacus says to Kierkegaard. according to James Conant, Climacus’ argument in support of subjectivity self-defeatingly instantiates the position of objectivity that both he himself and Kierkegaard condemn.7 Conant argues that Climacus’ celebrated “revocation” at the end of the book signals that everything in it should be dismissed as nonsense. stephen mulhall agrees that, according to Climacus’ own strictures, treating faith as a kind of knowledge leads to nonsense.8 Climacus incongruously argues against the philosophical approach to faith by advancing and defending a philosophical thesis. according to Conant and mulhall, the view that Climacus explicitly espouses about subjectivity and the view implicit in his actual practice are entirely incompatible. these authors conclude that Kierkegaard presumably created the character of Climacus to serve as an example of what a passionate existing individual should not do. the tension between these interpretive positions, one of which takes everything that Climacus says as Kierkegaard’s own opinion and one of which construes most of it as an exposure of the indeterminacy of language or as Kierkegaard’s parody of nonsense, may be reduced when the fact that Kierkegaard adopted different voices for all of his works, even those which he signed, is taken into account. Kierkegaard was keenly aware that the mood and style of a literary work must be appropriate to its thematic content and rhetorical purpose. all of Kierkegaard’s authors, both the pseudonymous ones and the ones who sign his name on their title pages, express, often indirectly and obliquely, a set of passions, dispositions, and concerns that are tailored to their central themes. to understand any of Kierkegaard’s texts, the authorial voice must be considered in relation to the text’s edifying and critical purposes. this is particularly important in regard to the celebrated works of the pseudonym Climacus, for his writings exhibit complex changes of authorial voice that parallel equally complex shifts of topic. to make sense of this literature, Climacus must be treated as a distinctive character, complete with his own complex and dynamic set of concerns, attitudes, and passions. several cautions must be kept in mind when dealing with Climacus. First, his voice and his descriptions of himself shift from one text to another; Climacus’ michael weston, Kierkegaard and Modern Continental Philosophy, London: routledge 1994, pp. 166–77. 6 michael strawser, Both/And: Reading Kierkegaard from Irony to Edification, new york: Fordham university Press 1997, pp. 89–99. 7 James Conant, “must we show what we Cannot say?” in The Senses of Stanley Cavell, ed. by richard Fleming, michael Payne, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania: bucknell university Press 1989, pp. 242–82. 8 stephen mulhall, Faith and Reason, London: duckworth 1994, pp. 47–52. 5

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identity is not entirely stable across the Kierkegaardian corpus. secondly, his selfpresentation and demeanor even change within a given book. “Climacus” is not the name of a single monolithic stance or perspective; he is the site of the intersection of several loosely converging authorial dynamics. some of these voices do not cohere easily, and some even seem to contradict one another. therefore, it will be necessary to explore each discrete dimension of Climacus the author, and then consider Climacus as a tensive conjunction of intentions and purposes. Johannes Climacus first makes an appearance in 1842–43 as the main character in Kierkegaard’s unpublished and uncompleted Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est. in the draft of this philosophical novel, Kierkegaard did not attribute the text to either himself or to a pseudonym. the book is written in the third person, and whoever the author is, he is defined mostly by his own antipathy to the philosophical “system” and his expression of solicitude for the main character’s plight.9 the hero’s name “Johannes Climacus” recalls a spiritual theologian of the early byzantine period who wrote about climbing the ladder to paradise. the protagonist of this manuscript seems to have little to do with the pseudonymous author of Philosophical Fragments and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, although in Kierkegaard’s mind a connection is not impossible. Climacus, the twenty-one year old student in De omnibus dubitandum est, delights in ascending the ladder of philosophical reasoning, and takes the injunction to doubt everything with absolute seriousness. the poignant thing about this young Climacus is that he is committed to the notion that philosophy is to be lived out rather than merely thought.10 He is earnest and passionate in his commitment to philosophical reflection, a commitment which is the source of the tragic irony of his life. by attempting to doubt everything, as modern philosophy recommends, Climacus’ life slips away. He cannot even commence his project, for he is stymied by the claim that modern philosophy begins with doubt, wondering if that proposition suggests that there might be a type of philosophy that does not commence with doubt. the self-contradictions involved in trying to hold all convictions in abeyance drive Climacus toward despair. the attention of the reader is shifted from the epistemological question of abstract doubt to the concrete anguish and confusion that afflicts the doubter.11 the example of Climacus provokes the reader to consider the possible disparity between allegedly presuppositionless and non-contextual philosophical speculation and the situated and engaged nature of an individual’s real existence. the only obvious connection between this sincere but misguided philosophical ingénu and the more famous subsequent pseudonymous author is that both of them indirectly (or directly) expose the vacuity and futility of relying upon cogitation alone to attain any sort of human fulfillment. SKS 15, 16 / JC, 117. Paul Muench, “Kierkegaard’s Socratic Pseudonym: A Profile of Johannes Climacus,” in Kierkegaard’s Concluding Unscientific Postscript: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 30–3. 11 stephen n. dunning, “the illusory grandeur of doubt: the dialectic of subjectivity in ‘Johannes Climacus,’ ” in Philosophical Fragments and Johannes Climacus, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon: mercer university Press 1994 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 7), p. 217. 9

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Climacus makes his debut as an author in 1844 in Philosophical Fragments. initially Kierkegaard intended to publish this work under his own signature, and only ascribed it to Climacus, with himself as editor, at the last minute. but however the author is named, the authorial voice is distinctive. in this work Climacus says very little about himself directly, but he does drop tantalizing hints. at times he claims to be “only a poet,” and he does manifest a gift for spinning lyrical parables and imaginative thought projects when he so chooses; like a poet, he can conjure up ideal possibilities.12 He also self-identifies as the author of brief pamphlets, and resists being confused with a speculator with a scientific-scholarly aspiration to manufacture a system of thought.13 He admits that he is a “loafer out of indolence” who does not want to be the only person found guilty of civic inactivity in the midst of his contemporaries’ frenetic and socially beneficial business.14 but even after he resolves to remedy his inactivity by becoming an author, he knows that his fragments of philosophy will not address the perceived needs of his contemporary culture and will not be loudly acclaimed as an epoch-defining contribution to the advancement of human science. His “carefree contentedness as an author” motivates him to avoid all efforts to be relevant to the concerns of the age.15 Far from having a system to offer, this author does not even have an opinion, for having opinions is akin to having domestic obligations. at the very end of the book, Climacus repeats these themes, claiming that as a pamphlet writer he “has no seriousness” and is entirely frivolous.16 the inventor of a world-historical system, on the other hand, is indeed serious, for he promises to satisfy the demands of the present cultural epoch. Climacus’ biting irony is unmistakable in these contexts. at both the book’s beginning and at its end Climacus’ sarcasm directed at systematic thinkers alerts the reader to the possibility that something may be amiss with the fashionable abstract reflective approach to life. Even his vaunted indolence exposes the seemingly dutiful industriousness of those who promise to further systematic knowledge as being nothing more than vacuous self-importance and faddishness. throughout the book his self-presentation contrasts his own obscurity, lack of world-historical ambition, and unsystematic writings to the grandiosity of the fabricators of speculative systems. Climacus’ voice provokes the reader to contemplate the possibility that humble indolence, freely admitting one’s own inability to be self-sufficient, may be a more authentic way to live than the pompous bustling of the civic-minded citizens. Climacus’ piecemeal bits of rumination are hardly idle or trivial. His writing in Philosophical Fragments reveals him to be a reflective individual who experiments with ideas, drawing careful distinctions between conceptual schemes and unearthing their implicit presuppositions and consequences. Climacus, who has a penchant for couching issues in epistemological terms, proposes a thought project: the positing of a world-view that would be significantly different from the Socratic/ Platonic assumption that truth lies within the individual, waiting to be recollected 12 13 14 15 16

SKS 5, 233 / PF, 26. SKS 5, 215 / PF, 5. ibid. SKS 5, 215 / PF, 7. SKS 5, 305 / PF, 109.

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and actualized. Climacus, like a respectable philosopher, approaches his task in terms of the question “How can the truth be known?” as his project is developed, it becomes increasingly clear that the alternative that he sketches to the socratic attitude looks suspiciously like the Christian faith. nevertheless, Climacus does not admit this resemblance until the very end of the work, where he confesses that his appropriation of Christian terminology was deliberate.17 It is significant that never in the text does he profess to be a Christian, or to being an apologist for Christianity. whatever he is doing, he is not trying to describe Christianity from the inside, much less trying to justify it. by positing the opposite assumptions of the socratic position, Climacus the experimental thinker is actually highlighting the unique epistemological dimension of the phenomenon of faith. to illumine the contrast between faith and recollection, Climacus claims that any genuinely non-socratic position would need to assume that truth is not resident in the individual, and that the absence of truth is the individual’s own fault. Consequently, as Climacus suggests, the individual ignorant of truth would be regarded as being in a state of sin. by mentioning “sin” Climacus is beginning to draw more attention to the parallels between his hypothetical construction and orthodox Christian concepts. Climacus continues to argue that the teacher of truth would need to do more than awaken a latent knowledge or activate a dormant capacity; the teacher would need to reveal a truth that would be otherwise unknown. the role and identity of the teacher would therefore be decisive for the learner’s coming to the truth. Consequently the teacher could be said to be the savior, and the moment of receiving the truth could be regarded as becoming a new creature. by positing these differences, all under the guise of a thought-experiment, Climacus was prodding the reader to consider the possibility that Christian faith and the activation of generic human spiritual capacities are two entirely different things. of course, Climacus did not announce that this was his purpose at the beginning of his curious work, and even at the end, after he has confessed that it is Christianity that he has been describing, he makes no claims about the superiority of the faith. However, Climacus does not leave the reader without a possible contact point between the natural religious strivings of human beings, particularly the quest of reason for truth, and the attractiveness of faith. From Climacus’ perspective, one of the most salient features of faith is that it paradoxically addresses an often unacknowledged yearning of reason. Climacus proposes that human reason implicitly experiences a deep ambivalence toward god. on the one hand, god is that ultimate truth for which reason longs; the longing for truth is a desire for an ultimate, all-encompassing explanation for everything. reason hungers to comprehend why things are the way they are, and how they all fit together. On the other hand, any totalizing explanation of all phenomena would have to include the nature and purpose of reason as one of the items to be explained. Consequently, the ultimate explanation for which reason longs would necessarily have to transcend reason itself. ironically, any explanation that reason could grasp would fail to satisfy it, for our reason self-defeatingly longs for something that must intrinsically transcend its own capacities. in this sense, Climacus asserts that reason wills its own downfall. Climacus, claiming that reason 17

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frustratingly seeks to venture beyond its own boundaries, asserts, “this, then, is the ultimate paradox of thought: to want to discover something that thought itself cannot think.”18 by suggesting this, Climacus indirectly motivates the reader to consider the possibility that a divine revelation could be an exceptionally attractive prospect; revelation is not an entirely repellant thought. the Kantian focus on the limitations of reason’s aspirations opens the possibility for a yearning for something that reason alone cannot provide. in this surreptitious manner Climacus’ epistemologically couched musings draw the reader’s attention to one aspect of human longing: the epistemic dimension of the desire for an ultimate satisfaction that nothing earthly can provide. in this way Climacus’ seemingly neutral conceptual distinctions and his elaboration of an ostensibly fanciful hypothesis indirectly function to encourage a longing for something beyond the closed categorical scheme of his contemporaries. Like socrates, Climacus’ questions (ironically in this case his hypothetical questions about an alternative to the socratic position) stimulate the reader to consider a seemingly alien perspective that might in some anticipated ways fulfill the reader’s longings, but in other ways be offensive to ordinary human desires for control and mastery.19 This yearning for a truth that transcends the cognitive capacities of finite human minds partly accounts for Climacus’ famous (and notorious) concept of “the absolute Paradox.” Kierkegaard’s readers have often castigated Climacus, and by extension Kierkegaard, for being an advocate of flagrant irrationalism who apparently rejected logical principles in favor of nonsensical and capricious cognitive fancies.20 However, for Climacus, “paradox” in this context is not a self-contradictory combination of words like “a round triangle.” instead, Climacus talks of “paradox” in order to provoke the reader to consider the possibility that one aspect of our dependence on god is the inadequacy of our own cognitive powers. the language of paradox functions as an invitation to epistemic humility. when human beings attempt to generate a systematic interpretation of their lives as a whole, as Climacus feared that speculative philosophers attempted to do, the results are always too limited and anemic to satisfy the restlessness of the human heart. Put in more religious terms, a god who did conform to all our expectations concerning what god should be like would actually leave us unfulfilled. Climacus illustrates the utterly unanticipated nature of the divine through his references to god’s shocking assumption of the form of a servant in the incarnation. His celebrated analogy of the king who descends to the level of the beloved maiden displays the attractions of a god who transgresses our assumptions about appropriate divine behavior. Contrary to human expectations, God is primarily defined in terms of self-emptying love rather than in terms of selfsufficient power and metaphysical perfection. The gratuity and radical extent of the SKS 5, 243 / PF, 37. george Pattison, “Johannes Climacus and aurelius augustinus on recollecting the truth,” in Philosophical Fragments and Johannes Climacus, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon: mercer university Press 1994 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 7), pp. 245–60. 20 see walter Kauffmann, A Critique of Religion and Philosophy, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1958, pp. 12–21. 18 19

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divine self-giving subvert all views of human life as a meritorious project of selffulfillment involving absolute responsibility for one’s existential accomplishments. in this way Climcus’ ironic elaboration of a hypothetical conceptual system serves a covert edifying purpose: it destabilizes the reader and opens up the possibility of being grasped by something outside the currently popular world-view, and all ordinary world-views. His strategy of epistemic destabilization is part of a broader goal of challenging prevalent cultural assumptions about the divine and about the telos of human life. of course, Climacus does not argue for the preferability of this life-view, nor does he directly advocate it; he merely presents its possibility in a way that might intrigue the reader, attract the reader, or repel the reader. this same pseudonym, Johannes Climacus, makes a literary appearance again as the author of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. His complex literary performance manifests a multifaceted personality. to further complicate the picture, in this work Climacus is much more self-revelatory. However, his remarks about himself do not always fit together nicely, nor do they always cohere with his actual authorial activity. we will explore the various dimensions of Climacus’ self-presentations and authorial performances. only after we have considered the multiple discrete trajectories in Climacus’ writing will we be in a position to consider their possible interactions. in much of the text Climacus seems to be a thoughtful, objective phenomenologist of religious experience. sometimes this is the case in spite of what he claims about himself as an author. Climacus often writes like a philosopher, developing arguments and making conceptual distinctions. For example, Climacus’ remark that “the pathos that corresponds to and is adequate to an eternal happiness is the transformation by which the existing person in existing changes everything in his relation to the highest good” is a descriptive statement about the nature of the religious life; such a claim could be advanced by astute spectators of religiosity.21 with observational precision he describes religious pathos and analyzes its component dimensions. Climacus identifies a certain type of subjectivity as an absolutely essential ingredient in Christianity, and a somewhat more diffuse type of subjectivity as an essential ingredient in other forms of religiosity. He makes the case for subjectivity as a necessary condition for meaningful talk of Christianity (and religion in general) with philosophical adroitness. Climacus’ famous assertion that “subjectivity is truth” suggests that all religious and ethical discourse must be considered in terms of the demands they make on an individual’s own attitudes, aspirations, dispositions, apprehensions, and longings.22 according to Climacus, subjectivity involves passion, and more precisely a passion for the individual’s eternal happiness. For Climacus, the passionate thinker aims to “be what he thinks,” unlike absent-minded speculative philosophers who forget their own existence.23 in discussing ethical and religious possibilities, Climacus insists that the individual must identify “himself with what is thought in order to exist in it.”24 That identification, which leads to 21 22 23 24

SKS 7, 354 / CUP1, 389. SKS 7, 173–228 / CUP1, 189–251. SKS 7, 281 / CUP1, 309. SKS 7, 310 / CUP1, 339.

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action, is born of passionate interest in what is thought. Climacus assumes that all individuals, including himself, are capable of developing such a passionate concern for a particular thought, the prospect of a “highest good” or an “eternal happiness.”25 He distinguishes this concern for an absolute good from concern for all relative goods, observing, “all relative willing is distinguished by willing something for something else, but the highest τέλος (telos) must be willed for its own sake.”26 Climacus does not specify what the content of this highest might be, but defines it functionally, in terms of the role that it plays in a person’s life. by so doing Climacus was simply describing the way that religious concepts operate, and making metaobservations about the formal features of religious experience. His practice, even when writing about passion, was that of a phenomenologist. extending this descriptive trajectory, Climacus devotes a great deal of attention to the analysis of the generic religiosity that he calls “religiousness a.” as Climacus describes it, this religiousness a is an “immanent” form of the religious life, meaning that it is a capacity inherent in the human spirit. the ordinary vicissitudes of life can stimulate a desire for this religiosity and motivate an individual to strive to actualize it. the attraction to this religious subjectivity can be naturally evoked, and the resolution to nurture it is within the power of ordinary human volitional capacities. this type of piety does not require distinctive doctrines, a unique revelation, or special divine agency. Cultivating this desire for an eternal happiness as the absolute good, and subordinating all other goals to it, is a permanent possibility of human nature. in Climacus’ account, religiousness a exhibits important similarities to the ethical life, for it continues to construe the individual’s life as an arduous and responsible task. the most salient difference between religiousness a and the ethical life is that now the task is to appropriate an eternal happiness that transcends all earthly fulfillments; the task is not exhausted by the performance of duties pertaining to social roles and interpersonal responsibilities.27 in religiousness a, the pursuit of an eternal happiness is experienced both as our telos and our duty, for the attainment of an eternal happiness is understood to be our god-intended goal. accordingly, Climacus claims that the commitment to orient one’s life absolutely to the absolute good, and only relatively to relative goods is the determinative feature of this way of life.28 He argues that whatever the absolute is, it is not desired for any ulterior purpose but simply for its intrinsic value. the absolute is not just one more valued good on a par with other goods, or even the highest ranking good in a hierarchy of commensurable goods. because of its supreme importance, he concludes that the truly religious individual should be prepared to give up everything in order to be related to the absolute telos.29 For Climacus this is so important that he claims that the willingness to surrender penultimate goods for the sake of the absolute good is a definitive and essential characteristic of any authentic form of religiosity. 25 26 27 28 29

SKS 7, 25 / CUP1, 16; SKS 7, 122 / CUP1, 130. SKS 7, 358–9 / CUP1, 394. SKS 7, 274–328 / CUP1, 301–60. SKS 7, 352–510 / CUP1, 387–561. SKS 7, 350–2 / CUP1, 385–7.

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this enduring disposition helps provide the continuity of action, the “eternity,” that the self implicitly desires. even though this devotion to the absolute is not a manichean rejection of all of life’s ordinary satisfactions, the individual must be prepared to surrender them if such a renunciation is required by fidelity to the absolute. In certain circumstances a choice may have to be made between the absolute good and relative goods, and the individual must always be poised to choose rightly. Climacus as a phenomenologist proceeds to claim that this detachment from immediacy necessarily involves the further complications of suffering and guilt. the pursuit of the absolute good always transpires in a context in which the individual is already mired in potent attachments to lesser goods. extrication from those entanglements is painful and arduous. moreover, the consciousness of the individual’s inconstant will produces a sense of discontent with one’s own volitional powers. guilt will inevitably be experienced because the subordination of lesser goods to the highest good could always have been accomplished earlier, more thoroughly, and with more single-mindedness. although this sense of dissatisfaction with one’s own self is a universal feature of the religious life, the individual still experiences it as the individual’s own fault. Climacus often writes almost clinically about all these themes, portraying their attractions from the perspective of one who has not fully embraced them. He is, however, close enough to this way of life to be able to empathically imagine the modes of experience that characterize it. in these passages he seems to be nothing more than a sensitive and sympathetic observer of religious experience. on the basis of his analysis, he persuasively draws conclusions about the necessary conditions for meaningful religious discourse, and the necessary conditions for regarding a swath of an individual’s life as being truly religious. Climacus, again seeming to write as a descriptive observer and analyst of religious experience, proceeds to differentiate Christian pathos, which he calls “religiousness b,” from that of generic religiousness a. according to Climacus, the appropriation of Christian teachings necessarily involves the acquisition of a new set of very distinctive passions. Climacus’ question “what if subjectivity is untruth?” (a question with which he introduces the discussion of religiousness b)30 is not intended to suggest that genuine pathos is not a factor in Christianity. Climacus was not proposing that Christianity rejects existential earnestness in favor of the dispassionate affirmation of doctrinal propositions. Rather, Religiousness B continues to require the individual’s intense concern about the quality and direction of her own life, and in this sense subjectivity continues to be “true.” but in Christianity that concern is given a new coloration by the particular doctrines of an historic religious tradition. Climacus observes that in religiousness b “the dialectical is decisive only insofar as it is joined together with the pathos-filled and gives rise to a new pathos.”31 the claim that subjectivity is untruth points to the authoritative teaching in Christianity that salvation cannot be won through the self-cultivation of any form of pathos. the supposition that such a project of self-nurture would result in ultimate happiness would make salvation a function of human effort. according to Christian 30 31

SKS 7, 189 / CUP1, 207. SKS 7, 505 / CUP1, 555.

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teachings, as Climacus construes them, even the pursuit of resignation, religious suffering, and guilt would be a futile project of self-salvation. Christianity asserts that god has graciously forgiven and empowered sinners, and that teaching, if taken with utmost earnestness, can catalyze an entirely new range of passions. this new pathos includes trust in god, gratitude to god, resting on god, and hoping in god. Christian faith is defined as something more than “inward deepening” and other than the discovery of the eternal within the self.32 Climacus only gestures toward this unique subjectivity, for it would take someone either practicing the Christian life, or at least close enough to it to be able to imagine its contours, to describe Christian pathos with any more depth or thickness. Climacus mostly sketches Christian pathos negatively, by contrasting it to the features of religiousness a with which he is more familiar. what exactly constitutes the attractiveness of Christianity Climacus cannot really articulate, for he has not embraced it. even with this limitation, Climacus can discern enough about the Christian life to propose that true faith involves a new and transformed set of passions, dispositions, and virtues. once again Climacus seems to be engaging in a phenomenological description of a form of religious pathos, this time a specific, historically conditioned one. some commentators detect in Climacus an even more systematic analysis of the dynamics of human nature than is typical of a purely descriptive phenomenologist. Perhaps he is proposing a sequential, developmental schema of spiritual maturation through various stages of life. support for this view can be found in “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature,” Climacus’ survey of Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous and veronymous writings.33 according to a prevalent interpretation of Climacus’ remarks about the “stages,” he is proposing a full-blown anthropology in which the inherent passional contradictions within each stage or way of life generate such vexing disquietudes that they almost necessitate the individual’s adoption of a higher stage. this interpretation is not bizarre, for in some contexts Climacus does strongly imply that the stages of life are progressive.34 For example, Climacus seems to argue that the inevitable frustrations of the aesthetic life should motivate the transition into the next stage in the sequence, the ethical life. He notes that the ironist discerns the problem with the aesthetic life and moves beyond it. Continuing the progression, the discovery of the unresolved tensions in the ethical life should propel the individual into some form of religiousness.35 For example, Climacus asserts that Judge william is mistaken that an individual can successfully give a narrative unity to her life through an act of will. sometimes it seems that Climacus is also suggesting that the dissatisfactions that haunt the religious life should propel the individual toward the final destination, Christianity. Perhaps Climacus is advancing the claim that only Christianity can deliver the ultimate felicity that the lower stages had vainly promised. much of Climacus’ contrast of religiousness a and religiousness b could be read in this light. the decision to enter this Christian stage could be inspired by the 32 33 34 35

SKS 7, 518–21 / CUP1, 570–3. SKS 7, 228–73 / CUP1, 251–300. SKS 7, 234–55 / CUP1, 257–81. SKS 7, 234 / CUP1, 258.

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disturbing contradictions that the reader can detect within generic spirituality. the most troubling feature of religiousness a is the tension between the requirement to surrender everything to the absolute, and the resolution to keep striving to do so. viewed in a certain way, religiousness a could be seen as an oxymoronic project of actively trying to embrace passivity. the perceived frustration of attempting to surrender oneself to the absolute through an assertion of sheer will power could generate in a sensitive reader a readiness to consider the alternative of Christianity. a reader who has imaginatively internalized the tensions within religiousness a could find this to be good news indeed. Climacus has introduced the possibility of forgiveness and unmerited fellowship with god, a prospect that could appeal to a spiritual pilgrim weighed down by guilt and despair. (alternatively, a reader could well be offended by the disparagement of the efficacy and value of human agency.) the travails and failures of self-salvation could propel the individual to the confession that he desperately needed divine forgiveness and help. if this interpretation is accurate, Climacus was a covert systematician who transposed the necessary dialectical movement that Hegel detected in world history into the life of the individual.36 Of course, Climacus added the qualification that the transition from stage to stage does require the free, non-necessary resolve of the individual. in spite of this caveat, this reading of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript implies that anyone who can imagine the emotional discomforts caused by each lower stage should resolve to advance to a higher stage. in this view, Climacus was attempting to demonstrate that a candid examination of human life shows that the natural telos of human existence is the Christian life. Climacus may have been arguing that human nature is structured in such a way that only the choice of Christianity can satisfy its drive toward fulfillment. Perhaps Climacus, sometimes directly and sometimes indirectly, was advancing an objective apologetic for Christianity on the basis of an analysis of the fundamental dynamics of human nature.37 the preferability of Christianity to other existential options could be corroborated by an appeal to a foundational anthropology. admittedly, some of Climacus’ remarks and textual strategies do seem to point in this direction. but other aspects of Climacus’ complex tome do not mesh perfectly with these interpretations of Climacus as a dialectician of individual existence or Climacus as a Christian apologist. in many passages Climacus even shows himself to be much more than an astute phenomenologist of religious experience. interpretations that would focus on these aspects of Climacus are challenged by the fact that one of the pseudonym’s most significant self-disclosures is his identification of himself as a humorist. sometimes he states this forcefully, confessing that he is a “not a religious person but simply and solely a humorist.”38 similarly, in the “appendix” Climacus repeats that he is only a humorist, and insists that he should not be mistaken for a

see stephen dunning, Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness: A Structural Analysis of the Theory of the Stages, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985. 37 see Louis Pojman, The Logic of Subjectivity: Kierkegaard’s Philosophy of Religion, alabama: university of alabama Press 1984, pp. 87–147. 38 SKS 7, 454 / CUP1, 501. 36

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Christian.39 whatever a humorist is, he is not someone whose identity would be primarily defined as a detached analyst of human phenomena or as an apologist for a particular religion. Humorists have a unique, self-involving perspective and are motivated by a unique set of passions. this label of “humorist” in Climacus’ writings functions in complex and sometimes surprising ways. its meaning is not exhausted by a mere fondness for telling jokes or even a proneness to be amused by life’s odd vicissitudes. in fact, the concept “humorist” does not have a univocal or stable meaning in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript at all, but is employed by Climacus differently in different contexts. as John Lippitt has convincingly argued, humor for Climacus is a multidimensional and tensive phenomenon.40 in order to understand what it means to call Climacus a “humorist,” each different use of the concept will require separate consideration. Lippitt also rightly claims that, for Climacus, being a humorist suggests the adoption of a generalized stance toward life as a whole.41 Corroborating this, Climacus asserts that a true humorist must “have his life” in humor.42 Humor is not an episode in a life, but is a way of characterizing an individual’s comprehensive existential attitude and deportment. as such, the perspective of the humorist seems to be what Kierkegaard typically refers to as a “life-view.” the puzzling thing is that in Climacus’ pages this existential stance is portrayed in very different ways. one of the most important senses of “humorist” is evident in Climacus’ presentation of himself as one who is fully conscious of the fact that he participates in the universal human predicament of living in the tension of the absolute and the relative. according to Climacus, humor is a subset of the “comic,” a broader category that involves the perception of incongruity.43 the author asserts that where there is contradiction, the comic is present.44 a humorist is someone who is acutely aware that the human condition itself is essentially contradictory, and therefore comic. in general, the comic becomes more apparent as an individual learns to detect the incongruity of the infinitude of human aspirations and longings and the enduring triviality of finite creaturely concerns, as well as the incongruity of the appearance of human potency and the reality of human dependence.45 therefore, Climacus claims that the more fully and deeply a person exists, the more he will discover the comic. Climacus himself understands the lure of the infinite enough to know that it cannot be made perfectly commensurable with finite concerns and projects. No earthly phenomenon can be an adequate expression of the infinite, and no earthly project can be an adequate enactment of the infinite. According to Climacus, the ultimate irony is that we finite creatures of the earth, bounded by time and space, nevertheless can SKS 7, 560 / CUP1, 617. John Lippitt, Humor and Irony in Kierkegaard’s Thought, new york: st. martin’s Press 2000, pp. 47–71. 41 ibid., pp. 72–103. 42 SKS 7, 474 / CUP1, 521. 43 SKS 7, 465–7 / CUP1, 513–15. 44 SKS 7, 465–6 / CUP1, 513–14. 45 SKS 7, 419–20 / CUP1, 462. 39 40

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be content with no worldly achievement, and can find lasting solace in no temporal source of comfort. Desire for the infinite disturbs all satisfactions, and destabilizes all sense that one has found fulfillment in the earthly realm. this sense of the incongruity is related to many of Climacus’ other themes concerning the stance of the humorist. most obviously, the awareness of discordant elements fuels Climacus’ pervasive critique of speculative thought. much of this criticism involves the incongruity of basing personal happiness on speculative thought, which is entirely indifferent to the individual. the abstractness of speculative thought does not mesh with the passionate concreteness of an individual life. Here Climacus’ humor functions as a challenge to his readers to see themselves as they really are: confused individuals in danger of conflating the disinterestedness of reflection with the passionate concern for their own existence. Humor’s exposure of this contradiction can catalyze a transformation in the reader’s outlook. it is significant that Climacus uses humor to deflate the pretensions of speculative thought. He refuses to argue against speculation on its own terms, for the effort to do so would concede too much power and authority to abstract reflection. If the problem is the escapist tendency to over-intellectualize life, then rational argumentation would only exacerbate the problem. sarcasm and parody are much better weapons to combat the evasion of responsibility for one’s own concrete life. in lengthy portions of the book Climacus functions more as a wry and often biting satirist than as a descriptive phenomenologist. when describing the humorist in these contexts, Climacus often emphasizes the virtue of empathy. the humorist’s recognition of the incongruous nature of human life does not lead him to congratulate himself on the profundity or candor of his insight. in this regard the humorist is different from an ironist, although irony is also a subset of the comic. an ironist tends to see himself as being more insightful than the self-oblivious multitudes and therefore belittles the foolishness of his fellows.46 an ironist has a caustic, polemical edge that betokens a sense of superiority. irony divides humanity into separate categories, the self-aware individuals and the superficial conformists, and proudly situates the ironist among the elite of the spirit.47 a humorist like Climacus, on the other hand, does not assert any spiritual superiority over other mortals, for he is acutely aware that all humans, including himself, share the same lot. From the humorist’s own perspective, his insight into life’s contradictions does not really give him any spiritual advantage; the humorist remains caught in the existential dilemma just as much as anyone else.48 as a humorist Climacus does not exempt himself from the scope of comic contradiction. Consequently, the smile of the humorist is not condescending, self-aggrandizing, or demeaning, but rather is “sympathetic” and perhaps a bit melancholic.49 For such reasons, robert roberts concludes that the humor exhibited by Climacus is a certain kind of moral virtue.50 46 47 48 49 50

SKS 7, 501 / CUP1, 551. ibid. SKS 7, 407–8 / CUP1, 447–9. SKS 7, 520 / CUP1, 582. robert C. roberts, “Humor and the virtues,” Inquiry, vol. 31, 1988, pp. 127–49.

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in other contexts, Climacus undercuts his own claims about the distinctiveness of the humorist’s outlook. occasionally his explicit statements and his literary performance blur the distinction between the humorist and the devotee of religiousness a. at one point Climacus even asserts that he has his existence “within the boundaries” of religiousness a.51 given certain aspects of his various descriptions of humor and religiousness, this conflation makes a certain amount of sense. because Climacus is not bound by the allures of temporal satisfactions, his attitude toward life can sometimes resemble the resignation that he ascribes to diffuse religiousness. Like a religious individual who experiences suffering as “the essential expression” of religious pathos, the humorist knows full well that life intrinsically involves suffering. a humorist “comprehends the meaning of suffering in relation to existing”52 and consequently harbors a “hidden pain.”53 the humorist knows that suffering is not merely due to accidental misfortunes, but is rather a necessary aspect of the fundamental incongruity of the relative and the absolute in human life. Supplementing Climacus’ occasional conflation of religiousness and humor is his tendency to add a note of almost eschatological hope to his description of the humorist’s perspective. He provocatively suggests that a humorist does not succumb to a tragic sense of life because he cherishes the hope that there is some sort of “way out” of the dilemma that afflicts all people. This claim is related to his observation that the comic in general is the “painless” contradiction.54 For the humorist, some sort of resolution of this incommensurability of the finite and the infinite is built into the very constitution of human life. Climacus only alludes to this “way out” elusively and does not elaborate what exactly the resolution involves. He cryptically suggests that our goal “lies behind” us, a proposal that seems to be analogous to the Platonic recollection that discovers the presence of the divine within the individual.55 both the humorist and the practitioner of Platonic religiousness posit an eternal blessedness that is already possessed.56 in these moods Climacus asserts that ultimately, all individuals will share the same destiny. these brief and mysterious remarks may gesture toward some sort of innate and universal salvation. or he may only be pointing to death as the great equalizer. However, often Climacus carefully distinguishes humor and religiousness a. in these contexts he claims that humor lacks the crucial dimensions of decisiveness and intentionality that are typical of religiousness a. For example, sometimes he describes humor as “revoking” suffering and guilt through “jest.”57 the religious individual seeks to enact an absolute relation to the absolute in his life, through the persistent cultivation of a certain type of pathos. the humorist, on the other hand, has no such ambition. although he is aware of the absolute, a humorist like Climacus does not decisively and passionately commit himself to do anything to relate to 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

SKS 7, 506 / CUP1, 557. SKS 7, 407 / CUP1, 447. SKS 7, 502 / CUP1, 553. SKS 7, 466 / CUP1, 514. SKS 7, 408 / CUP1, 449. SKS 7, 520 / CUP1, 582. SKS 7, 407 / CUP1, 447; SKS 7, 503 / CUP1, 553.

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the absolute. as Climacus admits, the humorist does not decide to relate to god through any course of action or through the adoption of any stance.58 the humorist has certainly not appropriated Christianity in a decisive way.59 unconvinced that the attempt to relate absolutely to the absolute would bear any fruit, or perhaps lacking the fortitude to even try, the humorist settles into a resigned melancholic bemusement. the humorist smiles sympathetically at the rift in the human spirit, at the failure to relate absolutely to the absolute. although the humorist understands guilt as a quality that characterizes human life as a whole, the humorist regards this state as a tragic inevitability and is not inspired by it to engage in a life of repentance and contrition. to further complicate matters, sometimes Climacus treats his stance as a humorist neither as a subset of religiousness a nor as a completely discrete stage, but as the ambiguous border territory between ways of life. Here the inherent instability and tensive character of the humorist’s existence is emphasized. He describes irony as the boundary territory between the aesthetic and ethical stages, and humor as the boundary territory between the ethical and the religious.60 in regard to humor as a border territory, Climacus seems to mean that not only can the humorist imagine the pathos of religiousness a, but also that he actually feels the allure of such a life. as a humorist in this unstable borderland, Climacus neither succumbs to despair nor does he adopt a fully religious way of life. rather, he shies away from the decisiveness demanded by the religious life, and resigns himself to living with the tension. However, the peculiar attractions of the religious life continue to disturb the humorist’s attempted revocation of suffering in jest. Humor is not a stable mode of existence, for it is perched on the brink of decision and cannot forget the prospect of religious decisiveness. in yet other contexts Climacus describes humor not as a stage or as a transition, but rather as an incognito for Christianity. the ostensible humorist might be a Christian in disguise. For the Christian the incognito of humor serves as a healthy antidote to the temptation to identify faith with a set of outward behaviors or social roles.61 the individual sincerely pursuing the Christian life realizes that nothing outward can express the depths of faith, and therefore can appear to be an ordinary non-religious individual. Moreover, the Christian’s confidence and hope can resemble the insouciance of the humorist. “religiousness b,” Climacus’ sobriquet for Christian faith, differs markedly from the anguished striving of other forms of religiosity, for here eternal happiness is received as a gift of grace. in religiousness a, the continual striving to relate absolutely to the absolute makes it seem that the spiritual struggle is the individual’s own act. as over against this generic religiosity, Christianity proclaims the message that eternal blessedness is a gift of grace rather than an accomplishment for which the individual can take credit. Christianity asserts that the potency of an individual’s religious passion is not sufficient by itself to produce eternal happiness; the strength or quality of a person’s religious feelings will 58 59 60 61

SKS 7, 458 / CUP1, 505. SKS 7, 246 / CUP1, 272. SKS 7, 273 / CUP1, 300; SKS 7, 455 / CUP1, 501. SKS 7, 458–9 / CUP1, 505–6.

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not save that individual. Consequently, subjectivity can be declared to be “untruth” in the sense that individuals have no grounds to congratulate themselves for the persistence and intensity with which they have pursued their journeys. Humor directed toward one’s own self distances one from one’s self and prevents anyone from taking their ostensible spiritual progress too seriously. in this way it serves as a defense against the self-righteousness that Christianity condemns. moreover, humor militates against the identification of Christianity with any set of public behaviors in which an individual could take pride. the fact that humor can be a Christian’s incognito raises the suspicion that Climacus himself might be a Christian in disguise. after all, he does declare himself to be a humorist after mentioning that humor is the Christian’s incognito. aware of this possible interpretation, Climacus vehemently denies any Christian identify. He protests that his purpose in writing the book is not to portray himself as a paragon of Christian faith, not even of its disguise, but only to show that it is difficult to become a Christian.62 elsewhere he insists that as a humorist he lives entirely in immanence and is only seeking the Christian-religious, although he knows that the two stances are sometimes confused.63 the intersection of these various themes triggers vexing questions about Climacus’ actual stance toward life, for they suggest very divergent attitudes. most particularly, the presentation of Climacus as an analyst of religious experience and the self-portrayal of Climacus as an existing humorist are ostensibly in tension with one another. throughout the work, Climacus displays an incongruity that may be totally unintentional and may elude his own self-knowledge. the implicit irony of the book is that Climacus appears to ruminate about the desire for an “eternal happiness” and even sketch its salient characteristics in a dispassionate manner. this is odd because a humorist, a category which he claims to instantiate, is clearly a person with a distinctive type of pathos. this descriptive approach to religious subjectivity is even more odd because Climacus had spent pages arguing that the appropriate form of pathos must be present in any situation in order for religious concepts to be intelligible. but although he argues that understanding the concept of an eternal happiness requires the appropriate sort of pathos, he himself often does not exhibit such pathos. the subjectivity that he describes in exquisite detail and claims to be a necessary condition for genuine religious communication is often strangely absent. in other contexts outside Climacus’ corpus Kierkegaard does carefully instantiate this pathos in his writing. For example, in Works of Love he expresses enthusiasm for the virtue of Christian love by praising it, for it is part of the concept love that it should be adored and desired. in much of his writing he shows what love means by evoking a doxological mood. but Climacus does not engage in the direct praise of God that typifies Kierkegaard’s authorial practice in Works of Love. the mood of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript is certainly not doxological. nor does Climacus enthuse about the peculiar and unexpected joys of the “eternal happiness” that has sparked his interest, as Kierkegaard often did in his upbuilding and Christian discourses. the book’s overall mood is not exultant. nor does Climacus typically 62 63

SKS 7, 560 / CUP1, 617. SKS 7, 410 / CUP1, 451.

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express the fear and trembling that the daunting and potentially offensive nature of the Christian life can elicit, as did Johannes de silentio and Kierkegaard in later writings. For much of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript Climacus’ tone is detached, analytic, and clinical. However, in other passages Climacus’ own orientation may not be as neutral or detached as his scholarly prose frequently suggests. in spite of this occasional appearance of merely being an objective observer of human pathos, Climacus’ remarks about himself reveal a powerful undercurrent of earnestness about the quality of his own life. For example, even in Philosophical Fragments Climacus can appear to have a strong sense of mission and purpose, for he confesses that he has devoted himself to thought. He writes, “in the world of spirit, this is my case, for i have trained myself and am always training myself to be able to dance lightly in the service of thought.”64 although his dancing is light, it is the product of intentional training. In remarks such as this he expresses a sensitivity to the significance of existential commitments, stating: “i can stake my own life, i can in all earnestness trifle with my own life—not with another’s.”65 to add to the note of passionate selfconcern, he confesses that the thought of death is his preferred dancing partner. Climacus often manifests a self-involving pathos that is absent in much of his didactic prose. unlike the authors lauded by the age who focus on the drama of world history, Climacus expresses a concern about the quality of his own individual life, and the lives of his readers. Climacus even presents himself as a person of passion by declaring, “i am a human being and i assume the reader is.”66 moreover, he is clearly fascinated with the passionate religious life in ways that are more than academic, and he often waxes quite lyrical and even wistful in describing it. even more particularly, Climacus often does write with obvious passion about the possibility of living the Christian life. For example, his ardor is evident at his book’s very beginning when he candidly expresses his basic motivation for writing it. He confesses, “i, Johannes Climacus, born and bred in this city and now thirty years old, an ordinary human being like most folk, assume that a highest good, called an eternal happiness, awaits me just as it awaits a housemaid and a professor. i have heard that Christianity is one’s prerequisite for this good. i now ask how i may enter into relation to this doctrine.”67 He unabashedly desires to understand how he can “share in the happiness that Christianity promises.”68 in the “appendix” he even confesses that his interest in the question of how to become a Christian is asked solely for his own sake.69 in spite of the dimension of amused resignation in the humorist’s attitude toward life, Climacus is powerfully drawn to the possibility of an “eternal happiness” promised by Christianity. evidently he is not entirely content with the revocation of suffering through jest which is available to the humorist. such eruptions of longing for eternal happiness have led scholars like C. stephen 64 65 66 67 68 69

SKS 5, 217 / PF, 7. SKS 5, 217 / PF, 8. SKS 7, 105 / CUP1, 109. SKS 7, 25 / CUP1, 15. SKS 7, 26 / CUP1, 17. SKS 7, 560 / CUP1, 617.

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evans to conclude that Climacus does indeed embody engaged, passionate reason.70 in spite of his sometimes cool academic style, Climacus is far from disinterested; he is intensely concerned about the religious and ethical quality of his own life. the often covert nature of Climacus’ pathos becomes more understandable in light of his elaboration of the thesis that the “existing subjective thinker is just as negative as positive.”71 even when using the language of speculative philosophy, Climacus can express a melancholic yearning for an absolute good. while Climacus seems to be describing in rather general terms individuals who long for the absolute, he is also articulating a dynamic gestating in his own heart. Climacus observes that the existing thinker who has felt the lure of the absolute stirring in his soul exhibits the form of negativity; the desire for the absolute is a disruptive and aching lack.72 the individual may not even have any conception of what he is yearning for. Climacus’ prose reveals this very restlessness and dissatisfaction about which he writes. His rhetoric instantiates the power of the negative that could be symptomatic of the pathos of an existing subjective thinker. the dimension of negativity intrinsic to genuine subjective pathos manifests itself as ignorance; nothing positive can be said about its goal. even when the individual undertakes to pursue the highest good, he quickly realizes that no matter how much progress he has made toward it, more progress always lies ahead. the comprehension of the goal retreats even as the individual grows in the passional qualities that should promote comprehension. the individual faces a life of perpetual sorrow, for it is excruciatingly painful not to be in complete communion with the absolute for which one yearns. the individual wants to express the love for the absolute absolutely, but finitude cannot be made commensurate with it.73 the individual longs to live the life of eternity uninterruptedly but cannot do so under the conditions of finitude. Climacus’ personal asides and expressions of frustration interrupt his seemingly cool analysis of the negative moment in desire. these are not mere literary embellishments but are expressions of his personal religious melancholy. Climacus manifests in his writing the way in which eternal happiness, the highest good, is perpetually elusive. Climacus sometimes expresses this negative moment in his passionate concern about the quality of his own life by praising socrates. in some contexts socrates functions as Climacus’ alter ego, particularly in regard to the combination of existential earnestness and the confession of ignorance. He even overtly portrays himself as a modern socrates, remarking, “this is the way i have tried to understand myself, and even if the understanding is slight and its yield poor, i have in compensation resolved to act with all my passion on the basis of what i have understood.”74 He explains that “to understand oneself in existence” was the greek principle and is valid for all subjective thinkers, including Christians.75 both socrates and Christianity recognize C. stephen evans, Passionate Reason: Making Sense of Kierkegaard’s “Philosophical Fragments,” bloomington: indiana university Press 1992, pp. 60–3. 71 SKS 7, 80–92 / CUP1, 80–93. 72 SKS 7, 445 / CUP1, 491. 73 SKS 7, 439 / CUP1, 484. 74 SKS 7, 168 / CUP1, 182. 75 SKS 7, 322 / CUP1, 352. 70

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the need for a highest good, and both are candid about the individual’s distance from it. Climacus’ admiration for Socrates, and his occasional identification with socrates, suggests that a socratic pathos, aware of its own ignorance and fragility, is resident in the life of a humorist. But the straightforward identification of Climacus as an appropriately passionate subjective thinker, albeit of a humoristic sort, is complicated by another factor. usually when Climacus confesses to having passionate self-concern, he immediately undermines this impression of gravitas by making a remark like: “this sounds almost like earnestness.”76 in one celebrated passage he proceeds to give a very sardonic account of how it was his chronic boredom that motivated him to become an author. He realized that it might be intriguing to provide the only service to humanity that was not already available: the inestimable service of rendering life more difficult.77 Here he eschews ascribing his authorial motivation to an ethical passion to do his civic duty or to a religious passion to seek a highest good, but rather attributes it to a desire to alleviate his ennui. He recollects that he wanted “to try my hand as an author,” as if it were a kind of whim, like an impulse to take up bird-watching.78 in these self-deprecatory passages Climacus describes himself as being a virtuoso of indolence and as having been quite comfortable with his indolence before he made his decision to become an author. given the fact that that resolution was reported as being four years ago, Climacus’ indolence may still be one of his salient qualities. in his recollection of his decision, the rambling, lazy pace of the prose mimics his own directionlessness. in his musings the enjoyment of a cigar vies for center stage with his ambition to do something with his life. immediate pleasure contests the importance of a long-term telos for his life. accidental details of his life, such as the physical setting of his reflections in a café in Frederiksberg Garden, seem just as significant to him as the content of his ostensibly life-shaping decisions. In fact, he waxes most lyrical when he describes the magical atmosphere of the garden. His life seems to resemble the arbitrary, relaxed meanderings of a quintessential aesthete. the note of passionate earnestness is conspicuously absent from his memoire. through such shifts in mood and rhetoric, Climacus repeatedly juxtaposes earnestness and jest, the sublime and the trivial, in his own self-presentation. His selfproclaimed insouciance constantly deflates the appearance of earnestness. However, the earnestness and the hungering for the absolute good always resurface in the midst of the self-irony. the ambivalent oscillation is evident throughout his pages. His words betray a yearning for the life of committed passion that he describes so astutely and sometimes poignantly, but that life is perpetually held at arm’s length. He displays the wistfulness of someone who has not made a commitment to pursue an eternal happiness and is daunted by the prospect, but who nevertheless continues to feel the attraction of such a life. Climacus’ resort to “jest” in order to subvert his earnestness is in part an attempt to live with the ambivalence. because Climacus constantly calls his own perspective into question, his own seemingly objective remarks, even his analysis of religious and Christian 76 77 78

SKS 7, 169 / CUP1, 183. SKS 7, 170–1 / CUP1, 185–6. SKS 7, 170 / CUP1, 185.

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subjectivity, must be taken with a grain of salt. even Climacus himself confesses that his understanding of the corpus is only that of one reader.79 He admits that he interprets everything from his own particular vantage point, and he is swayed by his own interests. “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature” only represents the way that Kierkegaard’s assortment of writings looks to Climacus, who is clearly not a mere objective interpreter of these texts. the “theory of the stages” in its robust form as articulated by Climacus is hardly a neutral analysis of human life. moreover, his descriptions of various forms of human pathos and the transitions among them need not be construed as a foundational anthropology. Climacus’ outline of the stages does not always demand to be read as a definitive articulation of an objective theory of the self’s dialectical development. Climacus’ observations could be read as encouragements for the reader to imaginatively experience the unsatisfying nature of the conflicts and tensions that arise within certain ways of life. His brief adumbration of Christian pathos could be read as a provocation to the reader to begin to consider the possible attractiveness of Christianity (as well as its offensiveness). Climacus’ elliptical writings could be seen as a gesture toward the possibility that Christianity might be able to provide a kind of satisfaction and joy that other ways of life cannot. but the interpretation of his remarks as a theory of a lock-step dialectical movement from stage to stage in an invariant sequence ascribes more authority and certainty to Climacus than Climacus claimed for himself. in general, the whole thrust of Climacus’ project militates against treating his musings about selfhood and subjectivity as if they were an articulation of an anthropological theory whose truth could be objectively demonstrated. if the exposure of the tensions within any given stage were so objectively convincing that it compelled any clear-headed reader to adopt the next highest stage, Climacus’ valorization of subjectivity would be subverted. Climacus argues that responsibility and risk are necessary for any form of religiousness, for only then can the pathos appropriate for the religious life blossom. risk, of course, requires some objective uncertainty. Climacus writes, “for without risk, no faith; the more risk, the more faith; the more objective reliability, the less inwardness (since inwardness is subjectivity); the less objective reliability, the deeper is the possible inwardness.”80 if a reader were to embrace the religious life only because the reader felt that the accuracy of a particular developmental theory of human life was highly probable, such a reader would be acting prudentially, not passionately. it would be nothing more than an exercise in rational self-interest to adopt the religious life if all the alternatives to it could be proven to be recipes for unhappiness. this would subvert the subjective earnestness that Climacus had maintained was necessary for any form of religiosity. the conjunction of the many discordant dimensions of Climacus’ personality preserves maximal uncertainty and risk for the reader. Climacus’ ambiguous combination of earnestness and jest, and description and provocation, makes any definitive interpretation impossible. The multivalent literary quality of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript leaves room for different possible responses. Perhaps the reader will be attracted to the resigned, melancholic stance of the humorist. 79 80

SKS 7, 228–9 / CUP1, 252. SKS 7, 192 / CUP1, 209.

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or perhaps the reader will be drawn to the more turbulent pathos of religiousness a. or perhaps the reader will be intrigued by the rough outline of Christian faith. the reader will be attracted or repelled by the depiction of a particular way of life only in so far as the reader allows his or her own passional capacities to be cultivated and stretched by the depiction of it. the impact of the portrayal of these ways of life upon the reader is not a function of their dialectical plausibility, but of the power of that portrayal to engage the reader’s imagination and stir the reader’s heart. that, of course, has a great deal to do with the reader’s concerns and interpretive decisions. Climacus throws the responsibility of deciding how to respond to the various dimensions of his character and his writing upon the reader. the reader is left to parse out the apparent discrepancy between Climacus the devil-may-care loafer, Climacus the passionately self-conscious author, and Climacus the analyst of religious experience. Climacus is simultaneously a phenomenologist of religious experience, a wistful and resigned humorist, a partial practitioner of some aspects of religiousness a, and an ambivalent admirer of Christianity. the complexity and ambiguity of Climacus’ persona is a major component of Kierkegaard’s strategy of indirect communication. this desire to maximize the interpretive responsibility of the reader may account for Climacus’ repeated refusal to ascribe any authority to himself. as david Cain has argued, for Climacus to be a humorist is to be modest and to refuse all claims to authority.81 along these lines Climacus remarks that to be an authority is too burdensome for a humorist.82 unlike the speculative philosophers, Climacus admits that he has no opinion to teach.83 He is not a purveyor of new doctrines; he has no novel system to communicate. His notorious “revocation” of his book at its conclusions forces the attentive reader to assume responsibility for whatever the reader may appropriate from its pages and whatever the reader will dismiss. How to construe a revoked text is clearly a task that falls on the reader’s shoulders. Kierkegaard’s adoption of the persona of Climacus enabled him to identify with the situation of readers and to thereby inspire them to grapple not only with the meaning of his text, but with the meaning of their lives. as a humorist, he could function as a mirror for those contemporaries of his who felt unsatisfied with the more shallow conceptions of the religious life current in their culture, but who still could not allow their religious longings to be unleashed. as a phenomenologist of religious pathos, Climacus’ analyses could accentuate the differences between sincerely passionate religion and its anemic counterfeits in order to exacerbate the discontent latent in his audience and thereby stimulate a deeper longing. as a jester, Climacus’ ironic distance from decisive commitment could expose the ambivalence of the reflective but cautiously detached seeker, whose religious passion is only slightly below the surface, ready to burst forth with a bit of coaxing. which of these

david Cain, “treasure in earthen vessels: Johannes Climacus on Humor and Faith,” in Irony and Humor in Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1988 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 7), pp. 91–8. 82 SKS 7, 561 / CUP1, 618. 83 SKS 7, 562 / CUP1, 619. 81

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aspects of Climacus’ persona is emphasized by a reader, and how the reader responds to that persona is finally up to the reader.

bibliography barrett, Lee C., “the uses and misuses of the Comic,” in The Corsair Affair, ed. by robert C. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1990 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 13), pp. 123–39. burgess, andrew, “Kierkegaard’s Climacus on Christianity and Laughter,” in Kierkegaard and Christianity, ed. by Roman Králik, Abrahim Khan, et al., toronto: Kierkegaard Circle, trinity College, and Šalià, slovakia: Kierkegaard society in slovakia 2008 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 3) pp. 24–34. Cain, david, “treasure in earthen vessels: Johannes Climacus on Humor and Faith,” in Irony and Humor in Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by niels thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1988 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 7), pp. 91–8. Conant, James, “must we show what we Cannot say?” in The Senses of Stanley Cavell, ed. by richard Fleming and michael Payne, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania: bucknell university Press 1989, pp. 242–82. daise, benjamin, Kierkegaard’s Socratic Art, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1999, pp. 14–113. dunning, stephen n., Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness: A Structural Analysis of the Theory of the Stages, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985, pp. 166–213. — “the illusory grandeur of doubt: the dialectic of subjectivity in ‘Johannes Climacus,’ ” in Philosophical Fragments and Johannes Climacus, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1994 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 7), pp. 203–22. evans, C. stephen, Kierkegaard’s “Fragments” and “Postscript”: The Religious Philosophy of Johannes Climacus, atlantic Highlands, new Jersey: Humanities Press 1983, pp. 1–54. — Passionate Reason: Making Sense of Kierkegaard’s “Philosophical Fragments,” bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 1992, pp. 1–45. — Kierkegaard: An Introduction, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2009, pp. 57–61. Hannay, alastair, “Climacus for our time,” in Kierkegaard and Christianity, ed. by Roman Králik, Abrahim Khan et al., Toronto: Kierkegaard Circle, Trinity College, and Šalià, slovakia: Kierkegaard society in slovakia 2008 (Acta Kierkegaardiana, vol. 3), pp. 14–23. — “Johannes Climacus’ revocation,” in Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript”: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 45–63.

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Hartshorne, m. Holmes, Kierkegaard, Godly Deceiver: the Nature and Meaning of His Pseudonymous Writings, new york: Columbia university Press 1990, pp. 29–94. Hong, Howard, “The Comic, Satire, Irony, and Humor: Kierkegaardian Reflections,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy, vol. 1, 1976, pp. 98–105. Howland, Jacob, Kierkegaard and Socrates: A Study in Philosophy and Faith, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2006, pp. 10–218. Khan, abrahim, “melancholy, irony, and Kierkegaard,” International Journal of the Philosophy of Religion, vol. 17, 1985, pp. 67–86. Kirkconnell, glenn, Kierkegaard on Sin and Salvation: From “Philosophical Fragments” through the “Two Ages,” new york and London: Continuum 2010, pp. 11–39; pp. 79–136. Lippitt, John, Humor and Irony in Kierkegaard’s Thought, new york: st. martin’s Press 2000, pp. 47–103. — “Humor and irony in the Postscript,” in Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript”: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 149–69. Lowrie, walter, “editor’s introduction,” in søren Kierkegaard, Concluding Unscientific Postscripts, ed. and trans. by david swenson and walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1968, p. xvi. mackey, Louis, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 133–94. mcCarthy, vincent a., The Phenomenology of Moods in Kierkegaard, the Hague: martinus nijhoff 1978, pp. 21–7; pp. 156–61. mooney, edward F., “From the garden of the dead: Climacus on interpersonal inwardness,” in Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript”: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 64–86. muench, Paul, “the socratic method of Kierkegaard’s Pseudonym Johannes Climacus: indirect Communication and the art of ‘taking away,” in Søren Kierkegaard and the Word(s): Essays on Hermeneutics and Communication, ed. by Poul Houe and gordon d. marino, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 2003, pp. 139–50. — “Kierkegaard’s Socratic Pseudonym: A Profile of Johannes Climacus,” in Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript”: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 25–43. mulhall, stephen, Faith and Reason, London: duckworth 1994, pp. 47–52. — “god’s Plagiarist: the ‘Philosophical Fragments’ of Johannes Climacus,” in Philosophical Investigations, vol. 22, no. 1, 1999, pp. 1–34. olesen, tonny aagaard, “the Hermeneutics of Humor in the Postscript,” in Søren Kierkegaard and the Word(s): Essays on Hermeneutics and Communication, ed. by Poul Houe and gordon d. marino, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 2003, pp. 215–27. Pattison, george, “Johannes Climacus and aurelius augustinus on recollecting the truth,” in Philosophical Fragments and Johannes Climacus, ed. by robert

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L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1994 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 7), pp. 245–60. — “Poor Paris!” Kierkegaard’s Critique of the Spectacular City, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 1999 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 2), pp. 87–107. Pojman, Louis, The Logic of Subjectivity: Kierkegaard’s Philosophy of Religion, alabama: university of alabama Press 1984, pp. 87–147. Poole, roger, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville: university of virginia Press 1993, pp. 140–64. Pyper, Hugh, “beyond a Joke: Kierkegaard’s Concluding Unscientific Postscript as a Comic book,” in Concluding Unscientific Postscript to “Philosophical Fragments,” ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1997 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 12), pp. 149–68. rasmussen, Joel d. s., Between Irony and Witness: Kierkegaard’s Poetics of Faith, Hope, and Love, new york and London: t&t Clark 2005, pp. 59–74. roberts, robert C., Faith, Reason, and History: Rethinking Kierkegaard’s “Philosophical Fragments,” macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1986, pp. 1–44. — “Humor and the virtues,” Inquiry, vol. 31, 1988, pp. 127–49. rudd, anthony, “on straight and Crooked readings: why the “Postscript” does not self-destruct,” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon d. marino, and sven rossel, amsterdam and atlanta: rodopi 2000, pp. 119–27. søltoft, Pia, “the unhappy Lover of subjectivity: is the Pseudonym Johannes Climacus an unequivocal Figure?” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 1996, pp. 255–76. stewart, Jon, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 336–77; pp. 448–523. strawser, michael, Both/And: Reading Kierkegaard from Irony to Edification, new york: Fordham university Press 1997, pp. 62–144. tietjen, mark a., Kierkegaard, Communication, and Virtue: Authorship as Edification, bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 2013, pp. 101–16. vipperman, Kristy, “Climacus the (multidimensional) Humorist: interpreting ‘an understanding with the reader,’ ” Religious Studies, vol. 35, 1999, pp. 347–62. walsh, sylvia, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, pp. 194–221. westfall, Joseph, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 119–39. weston, michael, Kierkegaard and Modern Continental Philosophy, London: routledge 1994, pp. 166–77. westphal, merold, Becoming a Self: A Reading of Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript,” west Lafayette, indiana: Purdue university Press 1996, pp. 8–32.

— “Kierkegaard’s Climacus—a Kind of Postmodernist,” in Kierkegaard’s “Concluding Unscientific Postscript”: A Critical Guide, ed. by rick anthony Furtak, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2010, pp. 53–71.

Johannes de silentio: religious Poet or Faithless aesthete? ryan Kemp

Of all Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms, few are as difficult to pin down as Fear and Trembling’s Johannes de silentio. unlike his peers, de silentio’s credentials—by his own account a faithless poet—suggest that his topic of interest (ostensibly, “faith”) may significantly outdistance his expertise. If this is correct, then de silentio and his masterwork Fear and Trembling may serve an exclusively negative role in the Kierkegaardian authorship, perhaps showing the reader what faithfulness (and by implication faith) is not. in this article, i look at two central aspects of de silentio’s character: his status as a poet, and his status as an outsider to faith. my hope is that such an analysis will, along with introducing de silentio, put the reader in a position to know one further thing about him: that, in principle, there is no reason to question his reliability as a commentator on faith. I. Johannes’ Mode of Communication early in Fear and Trembling, de silentio suggests that his task—namely, preserving the memory of abraham—is one of the poet.1 Stated as such, the significance of de silentio’s identity is ambiguous. being a poet may, on the one hand, simply be a claim about authorial craft: that de silentio writes imaginative fictions. On the other hand, being a poet may indicate something about existential status: that de silentio is, for example, someone with an aesthetic “life-view.”2 as we will see (in this section and the next), de silentio’s poeticism can be profitably analyzed in both senses. Perhaps no single line captures de silentio’s understanding of the poet’s task better than his praise of Shakespeare in the first problema. There, de silentio commends 1 see especially the opening paragraphs of de silentio’s “speech in Praise of abraham.” though, at one point, de silentio claims that he is “not a poet” (SKS 4, 180 / FTP, 116), this is best understood as a claim about the unique “dialectical” task that de silentio undertakes in the problemata. Perhaps the most accurate description of de silentio’s authorial role is “poet-dialectician,” an author who wields the rhetorical tools of both the poet and the philosopher. For more on the distinction between these two roles see ryan Kemp, “in defense of a straightforward reading of Fear and Trembling,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2013, pp. 49–70. 2 this is what Kierkegaard claims about Hans Christian andersen in From the Papers of One Still Living. i will say more about this in the article’s second section.

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shakespeare’s ability to “say everything, everything, everything exactly as it is.”3 if, as is commonly done, shakespeare is here invoked to represent poetic mastery, then it is revealing that de silentio focuses on shakespeare’s exactness. this suggests that, far from exaggerating reality (as a common caricature of the poet maintains), de silentio thinks that the best poets are capable of faithful reproduction. though, in itself, this does not appear to distinguish the poet from the philosopher (or the pastor), only the former appreciates that (1) reproduction involves replicating an affective state in the reader, and (2) that the poet’s rhetorical tools are best suited to replicating such a state. that de silentio understands his task in these terms is best brought out by considering a series of passages that develop de silentio’s distinction between understanding and having faith, a distinction that Johannes Climacus (the pseudonymous author of the Postscript) will later make in terms of objective and subjective truth. the distinction between understanding faith and having faith is suggested for the first time in Fear and Trembling’s preface. there de silentio writes: “even if one were to render the whole of the content of faith into conceptual form [Begrebets Form], it would not follow that one had grasped [begrebet] faith, grasped how one came to it [kom ind i den], or how it came to one.”4 in this passage we see the juxtaposition of two distinct forms of understanding: the understanding of the philosopher and the understanding of the first-person participant. Though the full implications of each will be filled in below, we can provisionally distinguish the two by saying that philosophic understanding involves grasping a concept’s meaning (for example, knowledge of what faith is), while first-person understanding involves a strictly experiential or affective element (for example, the experience of having faith). in the second problema, de silentio revisits this distinction in the context of explaining the knight of faith’s isolation. He writes: so even if someone were so cowardly and base as to want to be a knight of faith on someone else’s responsibility, he would never become one; for only the single individual becomes one, as the single individual, and this is the knight’s greatness, as i can well understand [forstaae] without being party to it [uden at komme ind deri], since I lack courage; though also his terror, as i can understand [fatte] even better.5

de silentio is clear that the divide between himself and the knight of faith is not one of philosophic understanding. not only does de silentio claim to understand the commitments of faith (in this case, its necessary conditions), it is conceivable that he and the knight of faith share the same religious beliefs.6 notice also that de silentio claims that he possesses philosophic understanding without having faith. the wording here—uden at komme ind deri—recalls the claim from the preface, that an ability to conceptualize faith does not entail that one has also come into it [kom ind i 3 4 5 6

obey.

SKS 4, 154 / FTP, 90. SKS 4, 103 / FTP, 42–3. SKS 4, 163 / FTP, 99. For instance, that when God commands a person to sacrifice their son, they should

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den].7 This passage also hints at what first-person understanding has that philosophic understanding lacks. in the end, what prevents de silentio from possessing faith is a failure to muster a certain kind of “courage.” thus, having faith, as opposed to merely knowing about it, requires certain motivational conditions to be met. in the preamble, de silentio makes the above distinction in terms of conventional wisdom and faith. He writes that conventional wisdom “believes it is enough to have knowledge of large truths. no other work is necessary. but then it does not get its bread, it starves to death while everything is transformed into gold.”8 a few pages later de silentio explains what such wisdom lacks. He writes: “what is left out of abraham’s story is anguish,”9 and “yet without that anguish abraham is not the one he is.”10 Finally, de silentio locates himself with respect to the distinction, writing: i for my part have devoted considerable time to understanding [forstaae] the Hegelian philosophy, believe also that i have more or less understood it….all this i do easily, naturally, without it causing me any mental strain. but when i have to think about abraham i am virtually annihilated. i am all the time aware of that monstrous paradox that is the content of abraham’s life, i am constantly repulsed, and my thought, for all its passion, is unable to enter into it [ikke trænge ind i det], cannot come one hairbreadth further. i strain every muscle to catch sight of it, but the same instant i become paralyzed.11

as in the passage from the second problema, de silentio again expresses an inability to enter into faith. unlike the intellectual demands of understanding Hegel, faith demands a passion that “repulses” and “paralyzes,” leaving de silentio in a position where he “can indeed describe [beskrive] the movements of faith, but…cannot perform them.”12 Now that we have the distinction between philosophic and first-person understanding in hand, we can appreciate why de silentio thinks that the poet is uniquely able to “remember” Abraham. If Abraham has faith in the first-person sense, then getting a reader to understand abraham’s faith requires more than simply clarifying faith’s necessary and sufficient conditions. It also requires reproducing an affective response, in this case, the anxiety of faith. it is a failure to do the latter that makes an otherwise accurate retelling of abraham’s story misleading. we see this in de silentio’s example of the oblivious pastor, where the pastor’s mistake is not that he gets all the facts of abraham’s story wrong (he is actually quite good in this regard), but rather that he has a misguided view of what it means to impart a lesson, entirely ignoring the emotional dimension without which an accurate depiction of having faith cannot be given.13 this distinction between the two types of understanding also makes sense of de silentio’s otherwise contradictory claim that he both understands and does not understand abraham. what de silentio cannot understand (or think himself into) is the source of abraham’s motivational strength. 8 SKS 4, 123–4 / FTP, 57–8. 9 SKS 4, 124 / FTP, 58. 10 SKS 4, 126 / FTP, 60. 11 SKS 4, 128 / FTP, 62–3. 12 SKS 4, 132 / FTP, 67. 13 SKS 4, 124 / FTP, 58. 7

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that de silentio understands the task of “remembering” in this broader sense is hinted at in the first problema where he writes, “It goes against my nature to speak inhumanly of greatness, to let its grandeur fade into an indistinct outline at an immense distance, or represent it as great without the human element in it coming to the fore—whence it ceases to be the great.”14 in this context, speaking “inhumanly” consists in retelling abraham’s story without also creating a mood (Stemning) by which the reader can become emotionally invested in it (komme ind i den). this mode of storytelling is “inhuman” (as opposed to just poor) because it assumes a one-sided model of understanding, one that highlights understanding’s cognitive dimension while ignoring its emotional or human dimension. while de silentio thinks that both philosophers and pastors alike engage in this kind of onesidedness, the “poet-dialectician” strives for balance. For the latter, “attunement” always prepares the way for dialectics. A final hint that exactness (and not mere emotionalism) is the aim of de silentio’s poeticism is found in Fear and Trembling’s epilogue. there, two distinct methods of capturing the “human element” are considered: artificial inflation and honest earnestness. recalling the dutch merchants who dumped their cargo overboard in order to drive up prices, de silentio asks: is it this kind of trick of self-deception the present generation needs…or has it not already perfected itself sufficiently in the art of self-deception? Or is what it needs not rather an honest seriousness which fearlessly and incorruptibly calls attention to the tasks…which does not frighten people into wanting to dash precipitately to the heights, but keeps the tasks young and beautiful and charming to behold….whatever one generation learns from another, it can never learn from a predecessor the genuinely human factor.15

this passage suggests that while the poet’s craft can be used to exaggerate deceptively, this is not the task that de silentio sets for himself in Fear and Trembling. Following shakespeare, de silentio thinks that bringing forth the “genuinely human factor” must be done with an “honest seriousness,” a seriousness that attempts to say “everything exactly as it is.”16 this capacity to faithfully reproduce, thinks de silentio, constitutes the poet’s advantage over more didactic forms of communication. Having now gained some insight into the rationale behind de silentio’s poetic method, we can move on to consider what connection, if any, exists between de silentio’s poet-identity and his faithlessness. II. Johannes’ Life-View while determining de silentio’s relationship to Fear and Trembling invites a careful analysis of where de silentio resides vis-à-vis Kierkegaard’s stages, most considerations of this kind stop with the simple recognition that he does not have faith. From here, many go on to claim that de silentio (as an outsider) likely misunderstands 14 15 16

SKS 4, 156 / FTP, 92. my emphasis. SKS 4, 208 / FTP, 145. my emphasis. SKS 4, 154 / FTP, 90.

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and exaggerates faith’s requirements. in this section of the article, i argue that de silentio—far from being an insincere aesthete—is closest to Kierkegaard’s religious stage. However, even if he is not religious, i argue (in section iii) that there is no compelling reason to think that his faithlessness prevents him from understanding and communicating faith’s requirements. A. Poetry and Aestheticism in From the Papers of One Still Living, Kierkegaard draws an explicit connection between a writer’s mode of expression and a writer’s “life-view.” This is significant because it suggests that facts about a pseudonym’s existential status might be inferred from his way of communicating, in de silentio’s case, his poeticism. while From the Papers of One Still Living is both early and distinct enough to make any easy application of its schematic problematic, Kierkegaard does—in later works— endorse the general claim that an author’s manner of communication reveals something about his inner development. with this in mind, we can ask what de silentio’s mode of communication reveals about his character. some of the pseudonymous works suggest a close connection between aestheticism and poetry. Consider, for instance, the first passage of A’s papers from Either/Or. the passage reads: “what is a poet? an unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed so that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music.”17 this comes from the opening of the “Diapsalmata” and thus serves to introduce the reader to aestheticism for the first time. It is significant that this introduction is made by casting the aesthete as a poet, a move that naturally suggests that poets—if identified with any of Kierkegaard’s stages—must be aesthetes. Like most generalizations, however, the association of poetry and aestheticism has it counterexamples. For instance, a’s papers also praise don giovanni and Faust, two characters who are not explicitly poets. though each possesses qualities that can be associated with poetry (for instance, the power of seduction) neither can be straightforwardly classified as a poet in the literal sense. Perhaps, though, the entailment runs in the other direction: if you are a poet, then you are also an aesthete. However, this does not hold either. Consider, for instance, what Johannes Climacus says about poetry in the Postscript: if the religious is truly the religious…then it cannot forget that religiously the pathos is not a matter of singing praises and celebrating or composing song books but of existing oneself. thus the poet production, if it is not totally absent, or if it is just as rich as before, is regarded by the poet himself as accidental, which shows that he understands himself religiously, because esthetically the poet-production is the important thing, and the poet is the accidental.18

in this important passage, Climacus points out that as long as an author applies his poetic skill to specifically religious ends (that is, regards the poet production 17 18

SKS 2, 27 / EO1, 19. SKS 7, 353 / CUP1, 388.

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as “accidental”), poetry need not be seen as strictly “aesthetic.” in fact, if we broaden what counts as poetry (as de silentio’s example encourages) to include what Kierkegaard calls “indirect communication,” then Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous works may reasonably be interpreted as precisely this kind of production.19 if this is right, then we ought to disabuse ourselves of the understandable but misguided notion that poets are necessarily aesthetes. Having made this more general point about poets, we can now examine whether there is any evidence that de silentio’s own poet production is, in fact, religious. Following Climacus’ suggestion, we will consider whether de silentio’s communication (1) aims at religious reproduction, and (2) is an expression of a religious existence. De silentio appears to meet the first condition. Our earlier analysis suggested that the goal of de silentio’s poetic method is to put the reader in a position where the first-person condition of having faith can be satisfied. Toward this end, de silentio cultivates a mood whereby the reader can understand both that anxiety is a necessary condition of faith and what that anxiety is like experientially. with respect to the second condition, things are considerably less straightforward. if we understand religiousness solely in terms of having faith, then clearly de silentio does not possess (nor by implication communicate) a religious existence. if, on the other hand, religiousness is understood in the broader sense outlined in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript (as either socratic or Christian in character), then de silentio may still meet the requirements of socratic faith. a second way in which de silentio’s communication might turn out to be religious is if it itself is a resource for de silentio’s religious growth. on this interpretation, Fear and Trembling would not merely be an attempt to reproduce faith in others, but it would also be an attempt to cultivate de silentio’s own faith through a reflection on Abraham’s example. Since inquiring into de silentio’s socratic faith requires examining several claims that are potentially drawn into question by de silentio’s religious sincerity (or lack thereof), it makes sense to examine the second possibility first: namely, is de silentio’s role as speechmaker compatible with a genuine desire to have faith? that speech making and religious earnestness are incompatible is suggested, among other places, in Kierkegaard’s A Literary Review of Two Ages. there, Kierkegaard claims that one of the chief ways the “present age” avoids commitment is by replacing action with mere talkativeness. to get a sense of what Kierkegaard means, consider the following passage: [A] political virtuoso might be able to perform an amazing tour de force….He would issue invitations to a general meeting for the purpose of deciding on a revolution, wording the invitation so cautiously that even the censor would have to let it pass. on the evening of the meeting, he would so skillfully create the illusion that they had made a revolution that everyone would go home quietly, having passed a very pleasant evening.20

applied to de silentio’s case, we might worry that de silentio’s praise of abraham is a way to acknowledge faith without also taking the emotional risk required to possess it. at least as they are evaluated in hindsight in Kierkegaard’s The Point of View for My Activity as an Author. 20 SKS 8, 68 / TA, 70. 19

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if this is the case, then de silentio would not only fail to be a religious writer, his qualifications as a religious commentator (that is, someone tasked to accurately describe faith’s requirements) would be seriously drawn into question. the latter follows from the reasonable suspicion that someone interested in excusing himself from the task of faith might also have an interest in inflating the requirements of faith, perhaps making them appear so absurd that anyone who fails to achieve them could not be reasonably faulted.21 though it is natural to entertain this worry with respect to someone as longwinded as de silentio, there is no clear evidence that his talkativeness is of the problematic variety. First, consider that Kierkegaard does not appear to endorse the following strong version of what we might call the “talkativeness thesis.” Strong talkativeness thesis: “if a person talks about faith, then there is good reason to think that he neither has it nor is developing it.” to the contrary, Kierkegaard seems to think that expressing one’s faith, when done with sufficient subtlety, can be a coherent manifestation of a genuinely religious life. Presumably, Kierkegaard would not have spent so much time writing about faith if he thought it entailed that he was thereby moving away from it. if Kierkegaard does not endorse the strong talkativeness thesis, we should not assume that someone is a mere “talker” unless there is independent evidence that suggests this is the case. we might call this the “weak talkativeness thesis.” Weak talkativeness thesis: “if a person is content merely to talk about faith, then there is good reason to think that he neither has it nor is developing it.” when we apply the weak thesis to the “revolutionaries” from A Literary Review of Two Ages (adjusting the test for “revolutionary sincerity”), we conclude that they are not sincere revolutionaries: they are mere “talkers.” However, when we apply the weak thesis to de silentio we cannot draw the same conclusion. though clearly he talks about faith, it is not at all clear that he is content to merely talk about faith. For all we know, his poetic communication may be accompanied by, or a means to, genuine religious striving. This latter possibility, that religious reflection is a possible means to religious growth, is worth pausing to consider further. in marked contrast to the strong talkativeness thesis, Kierkegaard sometimes suggests that an ability to reflect abstractly on oneself, can be an important first step to personal growth. in A Literary Review of Two Ages, speaking of the reflective distance created by a skilled author, Kierkegaard writes:

daniel Conway makes exactly this claim about de silentio in his “the Confessional drama of Fear and Trembling,” in Søren Kierkegaard: Critical Assessments, vols. 1–4, ed. by daniel Conway and K.e. gover, London: routledge 2002, vol. 3, pp. 87–103. For a response to Conway, see John Lippitt, “what neither abraham nor Johannes de silentio Could say,” Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 82, 2008, pp. 79–99. in addition to Lippitt’s response (rehearsed in brief below), Conway’s claim reverses the model Kierkegaard offers in A Literary Review of Two Ages. in Two Ages, the “present age” is accused of deflecting responsibility by “leveling” greatness, not exaggerating it. though i remain unconvinced by Conway’s reading, it represents a serious challenge to the interpretation that i offer here. if de silentio’s self-reports are untrustworthy, then we should not expect to learn much about his character from what he says about himself. 21

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Ryan Kemp Here is the inviting intimacy of the cozy inner sanctum from which heated emotions and critical, dangerous decisions and extreme exertions are excluded, because there is no room or forbearance for such things. a willingness to listen is the prerequisite for appropriating persuasive guidance; this relaxed compliance is the prerequisite for persuasion’s success in eliciting new harmony again from disharmony.22

This passage suggests that reflective space, whether created by oneself or an author, is sometimes a means to practical appropriation. if this is right, then we should not assume that talking about faith is always a means to evading faith. to the contrary, reflection may sometimes be a prerequisite for its development.23 B. Evidence of Religiousness up to now, i have defended a strictly negative thesis: de silentio’s poeticism does not entail that he is an aesthete. if, however, we want to move beyond this to say something positive about de silentio’s life-view, we will need to transition from a mere analysis of his communication style to what he actually says about himself. when we do this, we discover that de silentio comes very close to what Johannes Climacus later calls socratic faith. in Fear and Trembling, the three most salient existence categories are the tragic hero, the knight of infinite resignation, and the knight of faith. De silentio denies belonging to the latter category and says a few, initially confusing, things about his relationship to the other two. For instance, in the preamble he writes: if—in the guise of tragic hero, for higher than that i cannot come—i were summoned to such an extraordinary royal progress as that to the mountain in moriah i know very well what i would have done….the moment i mounted the horse i would have said to myself: “Now everything is lost, God demands Isaac, I sacrifice him, and with him all my joy—yet god is love and for me continues to be so.”24

what is confusing about this passage is that de silentio claims that he cannot attain anything higher than the category of tragic hero while also confessing a willingness to perform an action that would, eo ipso, take him beyond that category. to appreciate this we need only recall that the tragic hero never transgresses ethical boundaries unless the transgression itself is demanded by ethics. Following this model, Agamemnon, Jephthah, and Brutus all sacrifice a child for the sake of the state. In contrast, the sacrifice of Isaac admits of no public justification: from the perspective of ethics, it is an unintelligible act of murder. given this, de silentio’s counterfactual willingness to sacrifice Isaac for no other reason than that God demands it, suggests that he is not a mere tragic hero; he is a knight of infinite resignation. Later in the preamble, de silentio is clear about this. He writes:

SKS 8, 22 / TA, 19. Lippitt makes a strong case for this in his “what neither abraham nor Johannes de silentio Could say.” 24 SKS 4, 130 / FTP, 64. 22 23

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But to my own strength I cannot get the least little thing of what belongs to finitude; for I am continually using my energy to renounce everything. by my own strength i can give up the princess, and I shall be no sulker but find joy and peace and repose in my pain, but with my own strength i cannot get her back again, for all that strength is precisely what i use to renounce my claim on her.25

Just before this passage, de silentio explains infinite resignation through the story of a young man who exchanges love’s finite consummation—receiving his “princess” in time—for the idea of the princess as his one and eternal love. this motif is revisited in the above passage, with de silentio now casting himself as the knight of resignation. Like the young man of the story, de silentio is prepared to renounce finitude for the sake of the infinite. More specifically, he is prepared to obey God’s call to suspend the ethical (that is, sacrifice Isaac) without also having the courage to trust that god can restore what is renounced in the act of suspension, namely, ethical satisfaction (the promised son). this inability to return (gjentage) to the ethical is what makes de silentio a mere knight of infinite resignation. He writes, “For in the temporal world god and i cannot talk together, we have no common language….nor could I have made more than the infinite movement in order to find myself again and rest once more in myself.”26 Instead of following Abraham and reclaiming finitude’s blessings, de silentio is resigned to the relative safety of infinitude, a position that suspends the ethical while remaining within what de silentio calls the sphere of the Socratic. Infinite resignation’s Socratic character is emphasized when de silentio writes: “if faith is no more than what philosophy passes it off as, then socrates himself already went further, much further….He made the movement of infinity intellectually. His ignorance is the infinite resignation.”27 this passage is striking because it recommends an explicit connection between de silentio’s life-view (infinite resignation) and socrates’ (what Johannes Climacus later calls “religiousness a”). though it is often presumptuous to assume that the referent of “socratic” in one Kierkegaardian text is identical to the referent of “socratic” in another, religiousness a is marked by three necessary and sufficient conditions that the knight of infinite resignation appears to satisfy: (1) an absolute orientation toward an absolute telos, (2) suffering, and (3) guilt.28 This overlap between infinite resignation and Religiousness A is significant SKS 4, 143 / FTP, 78. SKS 4, 130 / FTP, 64. 27 SKS 4, 161 / FTP, 97. 28 (1) Guilt: in the case of de silentio’s young man, guilt is expressed as the incommensurability of his deepest desire (being with the princess) and the realm of finite possibility. While this differs from Christianity’s specific account of guilt (“original sin”), it captures a more general feature of the concept, namely, a person’s inability to “measure up.” it is this feature that is salient in the Postscript’s account of religiousness a. (2) Suffering: Though transfiguring one’s finite love into an infinite ideal offers a certain “peace and repose” (especially when compared against the fear and trembling of faith), the repose is contingent upon an ever present “pain.” De silentio writes: “Infinite resignation is that shirt in the old fable. the thread is spun with tears, bleached by tears, the shirt sewn in tears, but then it also gives better protection than iron and steel” (SKS 4, 140 / FTP, 74). this pain, brought 25 26

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because it suggests that while de silentio may lack the faith of abraham, he may still be “religious” in the broader sense of the term. Having established this, we can now turn to consider the implications of de silentio’s existential perspective on his reliability as a commentator on faith. III. Johannes’ Reliability Though the article’s previous two sections may help restore confidence in de silentio’s credentials as a religious commentator, his credibility does not yet extend so far as to justify confidence in his ability to accurately portray the more specific concept of “faith.” after all, how much stock can be put in an analysis of faith that comes from the pen of one who lacks it? while i will not here present any positive arguments for de silentio’s reliability, i will attempt to show how the most convincing arguments to the contrary—those that suggest we should doubt his reliability29—are misguided. i begin by examining two pieces of textual evidence that are often brought to bear on the issue, and end by challenging, on merely philosophic grounds, the reasoning of the accusation itself. if my argument succeeds, then perhaps we can extend to de silentio the courtesy of assuming reliability until proven otherwise. A. Textual Considerations one of the most widely cited pieces of evidence for de silentio’s limited perspective is Fear and Trembling’s epigraph.30 explicitly referring to the famed communication between the roman sovereign tarquin the Proud and his son, some have read the epigraph as Kierkegaard’s hint that de silentio, much like the story’s messenger, does not understand the full significance of what he is talking about. Though perhaps prima facie plausible (de silentio is, after all, a messenger of sorts), this interpretation reveals itself to be considerably weaker when we take into account (1) the lack of on by the constant knowledge of one’s guilt, “bends inwards” in order to focus the agent’s passion upon the absolute ideal. (3) Absolute orientation to the absolute: Infinite resignation’s orientation is absolute because it suspends all other goals and values for the sake of its guiding ideal. we see this in the young man who, for the sake of the princess, has “the strength to concentrate the whole of his life’s content and the meaning of reality in a single wish” (SKS 4, 137 / FTP, 72). Infinite resignation’s goal is absolute because its finite object of desire is “transfigured” into an “eternal” ideal. Speaking again of the young man’s love, de silentio writes: “His love for the princess would take on for him the expression of an eternal love, would require a religious character, be transfigured into a love for the eternal being” (SKS 4, 137 / FTP, 72). 29 see for instance C. stephen evans, “Faith as the telos of morality,” in his Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self, waco: baylor university Press 2006, p. 210; pp. 218–21; edward mooney, “understanding abraham,” in Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling: Critical Appraisals, ed. by robert Perkins, tuscaloosa: university of alabama Press 1981, p. 101; Conway, “the Confessional drama of Fear and Trembling”; and Jerry gill, “Faith is as Faith does,” in Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, ed. by robert Perkins, pp. 204–17. 30 see, for example, evans, “Faith as the telos of morality,” pp. 210–11.

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evidence that can be mounted in its favor and (2) the existence of a much more plausible interpretation.31 in terms of textual evidence, there is one simple reason to think that de silentio is responsible for Fear and Trembling’s epigraph: de silentio’s name—and not Kierkegaard’s—adorns the work’s title page. if we attribute the epigraph to Kierkegaard, we are forced to conclude that Fear and Trembling is only properly understood when certain select passages are attributed to someone other than the author explicitly given credit for those passages. while, for all we know, this may be the case, it is difficult to see how a reading that advanced such an interpretive principle could be justified, especially since the principle underdetermines which passages are subject to such treatment. one might, in an effort to defend against this worry, point to passages outside of Fear and Trembling that suggest deep disagreement between Kierkegaard and de silentio. if such disagreement exists, then one might reasonably expect Kierkegaard to indicate this within the pages of Fear of Trembling itself, perhaps in an epigraph. as it happens, a few passages have been recruited to play precisely this role. though i will not be able to consider all such passages, i will consider the most convincing of its kind: Kierkegaard’s claim that, “when the believer has faith, the absurd is not the absurd.” in an unpublished reply to one of Fear of Trembling’s critics, Kierkegaard says the following about faith: when the believer has faith, the absurd is not the absurd—faith transforms it, but in every weak moment it is again more or less absurd to him. the passion of faith is the only thing which masters the absurd—if not, then faith is not faith in the strictest sense, but a kind of knowledge. the absurd terminates negatively before the sphere of faith, which is a sphere by itself.32

as some interpretations of this passage maintain: de silentio’s description of faith’s “absurdity” directly conflicts with Kierkegaard’s claim that, “When the believer has faith, the absurd is not the absurd.” given this contradiction, we can assume that de silentio’s perspective, at least sometimes, limits his ability to accurately describe faith.33 in contrast to what is sometimes claimed, i want to suggest that the above passage is striking insofar as it confirms de silentio’s account, not discredits it. notice that Kierkegaard does not deny that faith, understood as a claim about a “kind of knowledge,” is absurd. Here, Kierkegaard appears to be making the same distinction recommended by de silentio, that one can possess either a philosophic understanding of faith or a first-person understanding of faith. If one wants to talk i develop a more thorough account of this in Kemp, “in defense of a straightforward reading of Fear and Trembling.” 32 Pap. X–6 b 79 / JP 1, 10. 33 see, for example, evans, “Faith as the telos of morality,” p. 221. For a response to evans on this point see Karen L. Carr, “the offense of reason and the Passion of Faith,” Faith and Philosophy, vol. 13, no. 2, 2010, pp. 236–51. Carr persuasively argues that Kierkegaard’s notion of the “offense” (a concept that takes center stage in later works) refers, in part, to faith’s “absurdity.” 31

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about faith in terms of its epistemic status (that is, as a “kind of knowledge”), then one rightly cites its absurdity; faith lacks a sufficient epistemic foundation. While someone who possesses first-person faith may indeed “master the absurd”—with, for instance, a kind of courage that acts in spite of uncertainty—it is not as though the absurd is permanently transcended. in fact, the above passage suggests that even for those who possess first-person faith (the Abrahams of the world) absurdity still lurks as a constant threat, there in “every weak moment” to challenge the person of faith. if this is right, then we should not think that the difference between someone in de silentio’s position (someone who lacks the courage of faith) and someone in abraham’s position (someone who possesses the courage) is that the latter somehow neutralizes faith’s absurdity. according to both Kierkegaard and de silentio, abraham “masters the absurd” in the same way the recovering alcoholic masters alcoholism: he recognizes its claim while denying its authority.34 besides the fact that there is no convincing independent evidence that the epigraph is intended to hint at de silentio’s limited perspective, a much more plausible interpretation of the epigraph is available. the reason Fear and Trembling is prefaced with an epigraph about a father delivering a message that no one but his son can understand is because Fear and Trembling is, in fact, the story about a father (namely, god) delivering a message that no one but his son (namely, abraham) can understand. this interpretation has the virtue of mapping on nicely to the explicit theme of the text while avoiding the awkward conclusion that the person explicitly given credit for the epigraph (the book’s author, de silentio) should not be given credit for it. B. Non-Textual Considerations in addition to possessing a weak textual ground, claims about de silentio’s unreliability depend upon a highly questionable inference: that a person who has not experienced faith cannot accurately discern its necessary conditions. since de silentio asserts the opposite, that “it is possible…to construct certain criteria which another passage that has been cited for the same purpose is the following from the Postscript: “as for the religious, it is an essential requirement that it should have passed through the ethical….if the religious is in truth the religious, if it has submitted itself to the discipline of the ethical and preserves it within itself, it cannot forget that religious pathos does not consist in singing and hymning and composing verses, but in existing” (SKS 7, 353 / CUP1, 388). Like the previous passage, this passage is meant to show that something that de silentio explicitly emphasizes in Fear and Trembling—for example, the tension between ethics and faith—is dismissed in another text that more reasonably reflects “Kierkegaard’s position.” see, for example, evans, “Faith as the telos of morality,” p. 211. Just as in the previous passage, however, here we have another instance in which de silentio’s position is validated, not undermined. insofar as the Postscript passage suggests that the “the religious” is necessarily conditioned by “the ethical,” then de silentio is in full agreement. in the third problema, de silentio makes it clear that any attempt to suspend the authority of ethics, that is not enacted from some prior commitment to ethics, is a mark of the aesthetic. it is, in fact, precisely this antecedent commitment to ethics that distinguishes the faithful silence of abraham from the demonic silence of the aesthete. 34

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even someone not in [faith] can understand,”35 we should pause to consider which of the two competing claims is right. a similar question has recently been raised with respect to the experience of having children.36 it has been suggested that having and raising children is so radically different from any other human experience, that it is difficult to see how a decision to have children can be rational. to put the problem in a way that mirrors are concern, we might say that “having children” constitutes such a distinct way of life that it is unclear how anyone who lacks first-hand experience of having children can reliably describe what the experience is like. while there is much about this that seems right, it is not at all clear that a nonparent is unable to say anything true about the experience of having children. For instance, a non-parent can, in principle, still know parenthood’s necessary and sufficient conditions, what qualifies as having children and what does not. This ability is unaffected by a lack of first-hand experience because it requires mere conceptual familiarity, something that can be obtained in contexts other than childrearing. in fact, we can imagine cases in which someone who does not have children understands the necessary and sufficient conditions of having children better than an actual parent. this is possible, because the kind of understanding that involves knowing a concept is distinct from the kind of understanding one has when one actually embodies the concept. when we distinguish these two types of understanding, we can appreciate that de silentio is in a position to know at least one dimension of faith: its necessary conditions.37 Though this does not amount to a positive confirmation of de silentio’s accuracy, it at least shows that there is no reason to think that he cannot, in principle, have knowledge of what faith is. if anything about de silentio’s account can be questioned, it is perhaps his description of faith’s emotional demands, those aspects of faith that only first-hand experience reveals. However, if the parenthood example bears any analogy to de silentio’s case, it seems just as likely that de silentio underemphasizes the difficulties of faith as he does overemphasize them. Like the would-be parent’s naive reference to the stresses of parenthood, the true anxiety of faith may entirely outdistance de silentio’s imaginative capacity. IV. Conclusion in this article, i have tried to provide context for three important points of contact with de silentio: his mode of communication, his life-view, and his reliability as a religious author. Concerning the first, his poeticism, we saw that de silentio takes “poetry” to be a form of communication uniquely capable of reproducing faith’s first-person dimension. Though the philosopher is adept at representing a concept’s necessary and sufficient conditions, only the poet appreciates that true representative SKS 4, 170 / FTP, 106. L.a. Paul, “what you can’t expect when you’re expecting,” Res Philosophica, forthcoming in vol. 92, no. 2, 2015. 37 it is in this sense that de silentio is a dialectician; he is charged with clarifying the concept of faith. 35 36

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fidelity also involves reproducing an affective state in the reader. as for de silentio’s life-view, I argued first that de silentio’s status as a poet does not entail that he is an aesthete. second, i offered a positive argument for interpreting de silentio as a religious author, a knight of infinite recognition who also meets the criteria for socratic religiousness. Finally, i suggested that even if de silentio does not possess faith there is no good textual or philosophic reason to suspect that he cannot present certain aspects of faith reliably. taken as a whole, the above considerations recommend a de silentio who is sensitive to both faith’s demands and the conditions required to communicate them properly.

bibliography Carlisle, Clare, Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, London: Continuum 2010, pp. 24–8. Conway, daniel, “the Confessional drama of Fear and Trembling,” in Søren Kierkegaard: Critical Assessments, vols. 1–4, ed. by daniel Conway and K.e. gover, London: routledge 2002, vol. 3, pp. 87–103. — “recognition and its discontents: Johannes de silentio and the Preacher,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2013, pp. 25–48. Cross, andrew, “Fear and Trembling’s unorthodox ideal,” Philosophical Topics, vol. 27, no. 2, 2008, pp. 227–53. evans, C. stephen, “Faith as the telos of morality,” in his Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self, waco: baylor university Press 2006, pp. 209–24. Fendt, gene, “whose Fear and Trembling?” in Fear and Trembling and Repetition, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1993 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 6), pp. 177–91. garff, Joakim, “Johannes de silentio: rhetorician of silence,” in Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 1996, pp. 186–210. gill, Jerry, “Faith is as Faith does,” in Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, ed. by robert Perkins, tuscaloosa: university of alabama Press 1981, pp. 204–17. green, ronald, “deciphering Fear and Trembling’s secret message,” Religious Studies, vol. 22, no. 1, 1987, pp. 95–111. — “enough is enough! Fear and Trembling is not about ethics,” Journal of Religious Ethics, vol. 21, 1993, pp. 191–209. — “ ‘developing’ Fear and trembling,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 257–81. Kemp, ryan, “in defense of a straightforward reading of Fear and Trembling,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2013, pp. 49–70. Kosch, michelle, “i—what abraham Couldn’t say,” Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 82, 2008, pp. 59–78. Lippitt, John, Routledge Philosophy Guidebook to Kierkegaard and Fear and Trembling, new york: routledge 2003, pp. 177–208. — “what neither abraham nor Johannes de silentio Could say,” Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 82, 2008, pp. 79–99. mooney, edward, “understanding abraham,” in Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, ed. by robert Perkins, tuscaloosa: university of alabama Press 1981, pp. 100– 114.

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— Knights of Faith and Resignation: Reading Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling, albany, new york: state university of new york Press 1991, p. x; p. 5; p. 12; p. 25; p. 55; p. 131. mulhall, stephen, Inheritance and Originality, oxford: Clarendon Press 2001, pp. 354–80. tøjner, Poul erik, “Johannes de silentio—og Kierkegaard,” in KierkegaardPseudonymitet, ed. by birgit bertung, Paul müller, and Fritz nolan, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1993, pp. 90–104.

Johannes the seducer: the aesthete par excellence or on the way to ethics? nathaniel Kramer

Johannes the seducer is certainly one of the most fascinating of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms, and without doubt one of the most troubling. the view of woman that emerges in “the seducer’s diary,” Johannes’ carefully cultivated and calculated record of his seduction of Cordelia wahl, and the one more directly articulated in the speech he gives at the banquet in Stages on Life’s Way, is, as many have claimed, arguably sexist and misogynistic. the endgame of Johannes’ seduction of Cordelia is not only sexual conquest, but her psychological and spiritual transformation into someone resembling in fact Johannes himself. Certainly Kierkegaard’s pseudonym was bound to be provocative. early reviews of Either/Or were captivated by the diary section of the volume, with some even focusing almost exclusively on the diary at the exclusion of the rest.1 Johan Ludvig Heiberg, the cultural arbiter of denmark’s golden age, in his review of Either/Or commented on Johannes by claiming “one is disgusted, one is sickened, one is enraged.”2 Heiberg even extends his disgust to the author, asking “if it is possible that a writer can be so formed as to find pleasure in studying such a character and working at perfecting him in his quiet thoughts.”3 Johannes may well be a repellant figure, but he is also a fascinating one and one that deserves the close attention that Heiberg found distasteful. this is true especially if one is to understand Kierkegaard’s aesthetic stage. Johannes is a central personality in Kierkegaard’s development of his conception of the aesthetic, perhaps even essential. Johannes’ troubling views of women and the world he lives in have made him the aesthete par excellence of Kierkegaard’s oeuvre, with both Johannes and his diary seemingly accorded special place as the epitome of the aesthetic stage.4 1 see george Pattison, “the initial reception of Either/Or,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 291–305. 2 ibid., p. 295. this is george Pattison’s translation. the original is to be found as “Litterær vintersæd,” Intelligensblade, vol. 2, no. 24, march 1, 1843, pp. 285–92; see p. 290. 3 ibid. 4 For a discussion of the significance of such a placement, see Wanda Berry, “The Heterosexual imagination and aesthetic existence in Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part one,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, p. 28.

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while it might be argued that every one of the pseudonymous works is very much about the pseudonym that writes it, “the seducer’s diary” and Johannes’ banquet speech appear to be especially calculated in their development of Johannes as a particular kind of personality, a more or less fully fleshed-out figure or character in his own right. stephen Crites writes that “in conscious contrast to don Juan, whom he could only talk about, is Johannes the seducer, Kierkegaard’s own poetic creation whom he could actually present within the pages of the same volume of Either/Or.”5 the distinction between “talking about” and that of “presenting” needs undoubtedly a more nuanced treatment, but Crites claims that “Kierkegaard’s ‘diary of a seducer’ is its adequate presentation to consciousness, since it enables us to follow every turn in the mad dialectic of the seducer’s devices.”6 Johannes is very much the diary he ostensibly writes, a notion i will consider in much more detail below. For the moment, the view that in the diary we encounter such a complete personality and one belonging to a fully developed narrative may help explain why the diary has seemed the most literary of Kierkegaard’s works and been excerpted and printed in numerous editions as a stand alone piece separate from the rest of Either/Or. it is no stretch to say that “the seducer’s diary” is arguably the most popular work in the Kierkegaardian oeuvre ever published.7 not only did the work seemingly spur initial sales of Either/Or leading to a second edition during Kierkegaard’s lifetime, but beginning in 1894 numerous translations appeared, often as stand alone works separate from the rest of Either/Or. given the above, the sheer bulk of commentary on Johannes probably comes as no surprise, both in the secondary literature and even amongst the coterie of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms themselves. among the other pseudonyms who write about Johannes, victor eremita, the pseudonymous editor of Either/Or, comments on him and his disturbing diary in his preface. though Judge william seemingly targets the pseudonymous author a for his criticism, much of the commentary can be applied to Johannes. Johannes Climacus, the pseudonymous author of the book Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est, Philosophical Fragments, and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, also spends some time discussing the various pseudonyms, including Johannes the seducer. in his review of danish literature, Climacus comments first of all that the reappearance of pseudonyms from Either/ Or in Stages on Life’s Way has the curious effect of making them into “existing individualities.”8 this is to say, that the pseudonyms like Johannes the seducer who make a reappearance in Stages take on a sturdier and more substantive dimension stephen Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, new york: anchor books 1972, p. 207. 6 ibid. 7 George Pattison notes that the first edition of Either/Or sold out within the first two years of its publication making it by the standards of the day a literary success. see george Pattison, “the initial reception of Either/Or,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by Perkins, p. 291. bradley dewey also comments on the early and later reception of Either/Or in “søren Kierkegaard’s diary of the seducer: a History of its use and abuse in international Print,” Fund og Forskning, vol. 20, 1973, pp. 137–57. 8 SKS 7, 261 / CUP1, 287. 5

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by the sheer fact of their reappearance in other works. Climacus describes Johannes, whom he now calls a “character” (Figur), as “perdition in a state of frigidity, a ‘marked’ and extinct individuality.”9 Climacus’ view of Johannes focuses on the narcissistic self-absorption of Johannes that must necessarily strangle any kind of meaningful purpose or productivity beyond the present moment. Johannes is frozen in time, according to Climacus, like Constantin Constantius, victor eremita, the Fashion designer, and the young man in their despair over the moment. before considering the concerns that Climacus has begun to outline, one of the more interesting questions is the status of Johannes’ pseudonymity, how to think of Johannes as a pseudonym in the first place. Victor Eremita, the editor of Either/ Or, himself wonders whether Johannes and a are actually the same person. eremita recognizes that a’s assumption of the role of editor of Johannes’ diary smacks of “an old literary device” ostensibly employed to shield a from implication in Johannes’ troubling activities.10 according to eremita, “one author becomes enclosed within the other like the boxes in a Chinese puzzle.”11 Johannes thus may well be a pseudonym of a rather than independent. but the problems do not stop there. whether Johannes and A are separate figures or one and the same complicates Eremita’s own role as an editor. as eremita himself notes, “i would not have much to object if it did not further complicate my own position.”12 How so? is it conceivable that eremita exercises here the same literary ruse that a employs, that he too has something to hide? the possible implication of eremita in the series of receding pseudonyms that includes a and Johannes thus calls into question whether eremita is really the editor of Either/Or himself or perhaps, feigning the finding of the papers which he claims to edit, is in fact the author of the two volumes and no editor at all. thus a would be a pseudonym of eremita’s as would be Johannes. Johannes therefore may well exist as one pseudonym folded within another and folded still yet within another, and it is not clear that one can stop even there. one might ask where is Kierkegaard in all of this. similar to eremita’s concerns, Johannes Climacus likewise suspects that Johannes may not be an “existing individuality” at all but a pseudonym that a uses to “try his hand” at other possibilities.13 whence all this deception, one might ask? Josiah thompson somewhat despairingly responds, “we search in vain for actuality, for substance. All we find is human consciousness in its intrinsic volatility, its perpetual ‘elsewhere.’ ”14 such a view may go a long way in explaining the fact that eremita and a seem particularly distressed by the diary, even explicitly announcing that their own sense of self is infected by its contents. the issue of Johannes’ pseudonymity then is therefore much more than a question about who wrote “the seducer’s diary.” rather, such a question extends to the very issue of Johannes’ identity; its volatility, its perpetual elsewhere. eric downing in his book Artificial I’s sees the consequences SKS 7, 271 / CUP1, 298. SKS 2, 16 / EO1, 9. 11 ibid. 12 ibid. 13 SKS 7, 269–70 / CUP1, 295. 14 Josiah thompson, “the master of irony,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by thompson, p. 122. 9

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of this inability to determine with any definitive sense who Johannes is in terms of a heightened sense of “fragmentation and multiplication of selves and scripts” as well as a strong sense of “potential conflation, of self-reflexive representation of and essential interplay with each other’s activity.”15 For downing, the self that Johannes is is therefore inextricably linked to the writing of the diary and hence a textual self, a self dependent upon a text that functions as a field in which multiple selves circulate and play out their identities. downing would seem to say that it is no use in trying to strictly demarcate one self from another, try as we might, in such a case as “the seducer’s diary,” let alone the entirety of Either/Or. in fact it is this confusion of selves manifested in eremita’s “Preface” and a’s that is central to the work of Either/Or as a whole, and made explicit in “the seducer’s diary.” this diffuse and variegated sense of self/selves in the above is echoed throughout the diary as well and accords with Johannes’ sense of self. Cordelia remarks, “at times i was like a stranger to him; at times he surrendered completely. then when i threw my arms around him, everything changed, and i embraced a cloud.”16 a generalizes: “many people who appear physically in the actual world are not at home in it but are at home in that other world. but a person’s fading away in this manner, indeed, almost vanishing from actuality, can have its basis either in health or sickness. the latter was the case with this man, whom i had once known without knowing him.”17 a’s rhetoric is similar to Cordelia’s in that it is rife with antitheses when it comes to describing Johannes; as if language itself has difficulty in defining just what and who Johannes is. Johannes also thinks of himself in this way, though it is often less direct and overt than the commentary about him. in describing his relationship to Cordelia, Johannes likens it to a dance “that is supposed to be danced by two people but is danced by only one. that is, i am the other dancer, but invisible….i am that other one who, insofar as i am visibly present, is invisible, and insofar as i am invisible, is visible.”18 Johannes thus imagines himself as altogether ethereal and unearthly, and presumably untouchable in his dance of seduction. what are the sources for such a persona? Certainly “the seducer’s diary” can be viewed as a product of the nineteenth century and more particularly as a representative text of the literary historical period of romanticism. scholars have noted the literary precursors to Johannes’ diary include tieck’s novel William Lovell, Jean Paul’s Titan, Hoffmann’s Elixiere des Teufels, and schlegel’s Lucinde on the german romantic side.19 ronald grimsley has detailed the French sources of Kierkegaard’s interest in the Don Juan figure as well as Laclos’ Les Liaisons Dangereuses as an important touchstone for Johannes’ diary.20 walter rehm, an important exponent of Kierkegaard’s romanticism, claims that “only against the background of morality eric downing, Artificial I’s: The Self as Artwork in Ovid, Kierkegaard, and Thomas Mann, tübingen: max niemeyer verlag 1993, p. 83. 16 SKS 2, 299 / EO1, 309. 17 SKS 2, 296 / EO1, 306. 18 SKS 2, 368–9 / EO1, 380. 19 downing, Artificial I’s: The Self as Artwork in Ovid, Kierkegaard, and Thomas Mann, pp. 76–7. 20 robert grimsley, Søren Kierkegaard and French Literature: Eight Comparative Studies, Cardiff: university of wales Press 1966, pp. 26–44. 15

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and ‘virtue’ in the sense of the 18th century, only in the sentimental fervor of the Enlightenment is the questionable figure of the erotic player and his elegant, donjuanesque sensuality imaginable.”21 though walter rehm’s sizable Kierkegaard und der Verführer was much maligned when it was published, mostly by english and american critics, it is one of the most ambitious works “to appreciate the diary as a literary work in it own right by placing it against the background of romanticism in general rather than simply against Kierkegaard’s personal life or later career as a Christian theologian.”22 within Kierkegaard’s authorship, Johannes can be seen as one more of the “fictive lover figures” that Kresten Nordentoft sees as populating Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous universe.23 Johannes thus keeps company with among others the young man from Repetition, Judge william from the second part of Either/ Or, and certainly Quidam who is not only in love but also writes his own diary, albeit an altogether different one than the seducer’s.24 Johannes therefore must be situated within a larger discourse on erotic love that runs throughout Kierkegaard’s corpus. He must also be situated among a number of other figures that populate world literature and philosophy. most obviously, Johannes is linked to don Juan and a’s analysis of mozart’s opera Don Giovanni in “the immediate stages of the erotic or the musical erotic” that sets the stage for the “the seducer’s diary.”25 importantly, however, the connection of Johannes to that most infamous of seducers functions more by way of contrast than similarity; the manner and mode of seduction between the two being crucially distinct from one another. a in fact is skeptical of the term “seducer” applied to don giovanni since “to be a seducer always takes a certain reflection and consciousness, and as soon as this is present, it can be appropriate to speak of craftiness and machinations and subtle wiles. don giovanni lacks this consciousness. therefore, he does not seduce. He desires, and this desire acts seductively.”26 Johannes, on the other hand, is one who embodies such reflection and consciousness. Where Don Giovanni, as A continues, enjoys the satisfaction of desire, Johannes is far too spiritual and intellectual of a seducer “to be a seducer in the ordinary sense.”27 where don giovanni seduces women by the hundreds, Johannes is really only interested in one. Where Don Giovanni is flesh incarnate, Johannes is intellectual and spiritual. where don giovanni is immediacy, walter rehm, Kierkegaard und der Verführer, munich: verlag Hermann rinn 1949, p. 111. translation from downing, Artificial I’s: The Self as Artwork in Ovid, Kierkegaard, and Thomas Mann, p. 77. downing sees rehm as one of the great exponents of Kierkegaard’s romanticism. 22 eric downing, Artificial I’s: The Self as Artwork in Ovid, Kierkegaard, and Thomas Mann, p. 77. 23 Kresten nordentoft, “erotic Love,” in Kierkegaard and Human Values, ed. by niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.A. Reitzel 1980 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 7), p. 89. 24 see mark taylor, Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Authorship: A Study of Time and Self, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1975, p. 347. 25 see also geoffrey Clive, “the teleological suspension of the ethical in nineteenth Century Literature,” Journal of Religion, vol. 34, no. 2, 1954, pp. 75–87. 26 SKS 2, 102 / EO1, 98–9. 27 SKS 2, 296 / EO1, 306. 21

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Johannes is reflection itself. Daniel Berthold calls Johannes an artist insofar as his seduction is oriented not toward sexual conquest (though this is debatable) but to the alteration of Cordelia’s own desires, the transformation of Cordelia into an erotic and reflective being like himself.28 Johannes thus sees himself as forming and creating Cordelia much like an artist creates a work of art: “her development—that was my work.”29 Sylvia Walsh, altering the definitions slightly but with the same purpose in mind, insists that Johannes is better described as an eroticist as opposed to a mere seducer.30 Johannes also refers to himself as a natural scientist, learning from “Cuvier how to draw definite conclusions from small details.”31 as a scientist of seduction, he observes, he theorizes, and he calculates in order to achieve his erotic aims. don Juan’s method of seduction may have components of calculation, but is importantly described by a as utterly sensual and immediate. the emphasis is on the direct and unmediated experience as such, where such an experience is all about the moment in which it occurs. In the case of Don Juan the progress of seduction finds its culmination in the gratification and satiation of the moment in which the sex act takes place. Once such a moment has passed, Don Juan is simply finished and moves on to the next conquest (in theory). in contrast to don Juan, a describes Johannes’ seduction as being of quite another variety. instead of pursuing the moment of sexual conquest, Johannes cultivates an experience of reflection that must be built into not only the final moment but also every moment of the seduction that precedes it. In fact, the moment in the future in which Johannes will reflect on the past moment must be equal to it. in Johannes’ case, one may well argue in fact that the moment of reflection is indeed superior to the culminating moment of seduction. Such a cultivation of the moment after the moment has happened is Johannes’ distinctive contribution to the manner of seduction. This emphasis on reflection inflects the sensual and the immediate and combines another feature of Johannes’ personality, that of the poeticizing individual, the aesthetic personality. Johannes as a seducer is not only interested in the immediate moment as such, the moment of satisfaction to which all of his plans and strategies have led him, but ultimately in that moment being worthy of being remembered. in fact, it is not the moment of satisfaction alone that should be worthy of being remembered but all of the moments that have led up to the final moment. The diary itself therefore is no casual record of events or private thoughts leading up to Cordelia’s seduction, but a carefully constructed narrative of reflections and memories about his encounters with Cordelia and indeed the way Johannes has orchestrated and managed the seduction. one of the more telling moments of Johannes’ calculations toward this end occurs in his consideration of the mise-en-scène of seduction: “surroundings and setting daniel berthold, “Kierkegaard’s seductions: the ethics of authorship,” Modern Language Notes, vol. 120, 2005, pp. 1049–51. 29 SKS 2, 431 / EO1, 445. 30 bradley dewey takes up a similar idea suggesting that Johannes is better described as a sensualist. see his “seven seducers: a typology of interpretations of the aesthetic stage in Kierkegaard’s ‘the seducer’s diary,’ ” in Either/Or. Part I, ed. by Perkins, pp. 160–3. 31 SKS 2, 304 / EO1, 314. 28

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do have a great influence upon a person and are part of that which makes a firm and deep impression on the memory.”32 in order to recall a particular scene all the better for future enjoyment and pleasure, the seducer must focus on the surroundings and not just the interaction with Cordelia. Later, Johannes muses that “every erotic relationship must always be lived through in such a way that it is easy for one to produce an image that conveys all the beauty of it.”33 such attentiveness to not just the seduction of Cordelia but also its capacity for producing a beautiful image drives Johannes’ activities in a completely different direction than don Juan’s. there will be more to say about the function of the diary as such an aidemémoire, but for the time being it is important to recognize that such a wish to return to the memory of his seduction of Cordelia is central to the idea that Johannes imagines himself to be a kind of artist. i noted above that Johannes sees himself very much as an artist in forming Cordelia to his purposes and ends. this artistry extends not only to Cordelia but to the formation of the beautiful moment as well. For such a moment to be not only enjoyed but rendered memorable, it must first be chosen or selected out from the myriad of possible moments and then be carefully orchestrated so as to produce maximum aesthetic pleasure. in being selected, carefully organized, and planned with an eye towards its being remembered and its being beautiful, the moment rises to the level of art.34 such an approach to seduction requires the acute development of Johannes’ aesthetic abilities and his imagination. to return to downing’s idea of the textual self in this context, not only is Cordelia and the beautiful moment produced and reproduced aesthetically, but Johannes is as well. sylvia walsh notes, “the seducer thus epitomizes the romantic mode of living poetically in that he reproduces himself poetically for the purpose of aesthetic enjoyment rather than for personal development.”35 there is a cost, however, to such a production. as a diagnoses it, that cost is that Johannes becomes “volatized” and the real world is “drowned in the poetic.”36 Johannes’ narcissism, in being devoted to the endless enjoyment and reproduction of the possibilities that unfold from his imagining and reimagining of reality, cost him in point of fact reality or actuality itself. Faust is another figure associated with Johannes the Seducer, and a figure that A also develops in some detail through Faust’s association don Juan. as with don Juan, we are led to see Faust as a source of influence but by way of contrast. In the case of Faust though, he is a half step closer to Johannes than don Juan because, according to a, Faust has an “intellectual-spiritual quality” in that he focuses his attention on one girl instead of hundreds.37 a declares in his analysis of Faust that “such a seducer is of a kind entirely different from don giovanni, differs from him essentially, which can be seen in this, that he and his activities are extremely unmusical and esthetically SKS 2, 377 / EO1, 389. SKS 2, 378 / EO1, 390. 34 Cordelia’s last name, wahl, is in the german “choice” or “selection.” 35 sylvia walsh, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, p. 92. 36 SKS 2, 295 / EO1, 304. 37 SKS 2, 102 / EO1, 99. 32 33

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fall within the category of the interesting.”38 the introduction of the category of the interesting here coincides with the aesthetic stage more generally but is also a feature of Johannes and his diary more particularly. Johannes uses the category of the interesting as a kind of litmus test to ascertain the aesthetic value of an experience. Although the category of the interesting is difficult to define, part of its definition involves the idea that an experience is valuable only insofar as it can be reflected on again or remembered long after the moment itself has passed. Hence, an ironic distance or detachment is necessary in every experience so that it might become interesting. Faust has this quality, according to a, and, by extension, this is also one of Johannes’ defining characteristics. both the don Juan and Faust themes occupied Kierkegaard early on in his thinking, and his elaboration of both characters can be found, for example, in The Concept of Irony. Socrates and Socratic irony also figure prominently in The Concept of Irony, and socrates is also an important source of inspiration for Johannes the seducer. more particularly, it is the fundamentally negative dimension of irony socrates exhibits that Johannes so carefully cultivates. socratic irony according to sylviane agacinski “is troubling, unsettling, disturbing; it has no other effect than to initiate a ‘love affair’ between the ironist and the listener.”39 though agacinski only treats Johannes cursorily, the reference to irony as initiating a love affair that is unsettling and disturbing describes very well the effects of Johannesque seduction on Cordelia. Like socrates who only excites curiosity and awakens desire on the part of the athenian youth, Johannes engages Cordelia and presumably the other objects of his seduction by also inciting desire and curiosity without offering anything in the relationship that could be considered stable and secure. even when he offers the prospect of an engagement, the entire task is to slowly unravel any sort of security this could provide. John smyth in his A Question of Eros sees Johannes’ seductive technique as hardly being separable from irony, but with this difference: Johannes’ irony is fundamentally creative and crucially “not transcendental but transgressive.”40 smyth thus sees a “poetics of indeterminacy” at work in Johannes’ seduction and observes an implicit critique of dogmatic philosophy that might also be described as socratic. “Johannes’ reproach partly concerns philosophy’s proverbial denigration of the sensuous or the sensual. but above all it is the indeterminacy of the erotic that here shipwrecks all ‘dogmatism’ and that destabilizes the sensuous-spiritual polarity itself.”41 similar to socratic irony that also shipwrecks all dogmatism, Johannes, in smyth’s view, upsets categories and distinctions, and replaces them with nothing. More specifically, the sharp distinction between the sexual and the spiritual is suspended by Johannes as he confounds the two in his erotic-aesthetic seduction of Cordelia.

SKS 2, 103 / EO1 99–100. sylviane agacinski, Aparté: Conceptions and Deaths of Søren Kierkegaard, trans. by Kevin newmark, gainesville: university Presses of Florida 1988, p. 50. 40 John vignaux smyth, A Question of Eros: Irony in Sterne, Kierkegaard, and Barthes, tallahassee: Florida state university Press 1986, p. 246. 41 ibid., p. 247. 38 39

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some scholars have suggested not just literary and philosophical sources as models for Johannes but in fact a real life counterpart. Julia watkin speculates that Peder Ludvig møller (1814–65) served as the model for Johannes the seducer. møller was “drawn into a loose-living existence at an early age, which is probably the chief reason he never succeeded in making a solid career for himself. For many, he was the epitome of the despairing, immoral aesthete….”42 the well-known contemporary of Kierkegaard, who would later be part of the infamous Corsair affair along with meir goldschmidt, apparently saw himself in the diary and claimed that the diary was Kierkegaard’s greatest achievement. many have also wondered about the relationship between Johannes and Kierkegaard himself, if Johannes might not in some way be a reflection of Kierkegaard. Even early on the equation between Johannes and Kierkegaard was a point of speculation. Heiberg, as mentioned above, went so far as to assert that only an equally perverse imagination could have concocted a figure like Johannes. though the book was published under a pseudonym, many undoubtedly knew it was Kierkegaard. Of course, as George Pattison reminds us, “those first readers were not influenced (for better or for worse) by their preconceptions as to the significance of Kierkegaard’s life and work.”43 Part of such history now is Kierkegaard’s broken engagement to regine olsen. the entirety of Either/Or was written during a several-month trip to berlin where Kierkegaard escaped the lingering complications from his break with regine. Henning Fenger, for example, has read “the seducer’s diary” as a thinly veiled reference to Kierkegaard’s relationship with regine.44 undoubtedly the relationship and its circumstances affected the writing of “the seducer’s diary,” but of course it is impossible to say how exactly. Kierkegaard did claim in his journals that the diary was written to repel Cordelia and ostensibly make the dissolved engagement somehow easier to take. the circumstances and the proximity do suggest a connection but such a connection must remain entirely speculative and hopelessly overdetermined. aside from the literary, philosophical, and historical models upon which Johannes was based and which provide a sense of who he is, there are the several readings situating Johannes and his diary within broader fields of philosophical and theoretical inquiry. urban studies and similar disciplinary endeavors have sought to place Johannes within the city given its urban setting and attempted to ascertain the significance of such a setting for Johannes but also for the act of seduction and the ethical consequences emanating therefrom. in fact, given the prominence of Copenhagen as the backdrop for seduction, “the seducer’s diary” has sometimes been called one of the first københavnerromaner.45 indeed, Johannes the seducer as a particular type of character and his method of seduction would be unthinkable in Julia watkin, The A to Z of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2010, pp. 175–6. 43 george Pattison, in “the initial reception of Either/Or,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by Perkins, p. 291. 44 Henning Fenger, Kierkegaard: The Myths and Their Origins, trans. by george C. Schoolfield, New Haven: Yale University Press 1980, pp. 179–212. 45 see, for example, the edited volume Københavnerromaner, ed. by marianne barlyng and søren schou, Copenhagen: borgens Forlag 1996. 42

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any other context than an urban one. with the newly rebuilt city in neoclassical style, Copenhagen thus functions as the crucial mise en scène for Johannes’ seduction of Cordelia. Jørgen bonde Jensen, for example, argues that the city functions as a dramatic persona in its own right.46 despite the fact that the name of the city is mentioned only once in passing, the names of various city quarters and streets are abundant. according to bonde Jensen, they do not function as mere topographical descriptions, the city as merely “there.” rather, it too becomes part of Johannes’ fictionalizing, his poeticizing activities. Bonde Jensen, for example, calls to the reader’s attention the way Johannes treats Østergade as being seedier than its historical reality would have been.47 thus Johannes invests his narrative with an emotional content—something dangerous and provocative—in order to heighten the impact of his narrative. Peter madsen sees the diary as “an early demonstration of a particular way of living in a city. Johannes is a kind of flâneur with what borders on an exclusive interest in young women.”48 thus, while bonde Jensen sees the city as a dramatis persona in its own right, madsen suggests that the urban environment of the city encourages a certain way of being, and that way of being in the city is captured in the figure of the flâneur. That distinctively Parisian man about town is defined by his dual existence: at once in and amongst the crowd in the public places of the city while at the same time distanced and removed from the crowd, standing apart from them. in an almost paradoxical way, the anonymity the flâneur enjoys is had not by standing entirely apart from the crowd, but rather being an observer thoroughly immersed in the crowd. He blends into the masses in such a way that he is all but indistinguishable from anyone else. george Pattison has likewise seen in Johannes a forerunner of “the new urban order,” a ‘new type of observer’…who registers the advent of a new urban order in advance of its actual arrival.”49 Johannes thus represents an early figure of the flâneur, standing outside of and beyond the petty bourgeois interests of the inhabitants; he embodies as he observes with keen and decisive vision the contradictions of city life. Johannes also enjoys or at least imagines himself to enjoy a certain degree of anonymity as well. the city provides in many ways this “cover” for Johannes to carry out his surveillance of Cordelia and others. In the first entry of the diary, dated april 4, Johannes writes “i am simply going to stand under this street light; then you will be unable to see me, and invariably one is embarrassed only to the degree that one is seen, but invariably one is seen only to the degree that one sees.”50 Johannes capitalizes on the relative anonymity that the urban space provides and that enables Jørgen Bonde Jensen, “København som refleksions-spejl for Søren Kierkegaard i Forførerens dagbog,” in ibid., pp. 28–44. 47 ibid., pp. 33–34. 48 Peter madsen, “imagined urbanity: novelistic representations of Copenhagen,” in Urban Lifeworld: Formation, Perception & Representation, ed. by Peter madsen and richard Plunz, new york: routledge 2002, p. 296. 49 george Pattison, “Poor Paris!” Kierkegaard’s Critique of the Spectacular City, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 1999 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 2), p. 13. 50 SKS 2, 304 / EO1, 314. 46

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his voyeuristic observation of his victims from unseen vantage points. seduction in the way that Johannes imagines it is therefore only possible in the city, johannesque seduction being an urban affair. the flâneur thus also calls to mind the significance of the visual in city life. bonde Jensen, Pattison, and bonde Jensen all emphasize the fact that the city becomes a place to see and be seen. if the diary is often cast as one of the earliest københavnerromaner, it is also very much about an emerging visual culture in the nineteenth century precipitated by the arrival of the modern city. Joakim garff in his biography alludes to the fact that “the seducer’s diary” and in particular the methods of Johannes are very much oriented around the visual. Garff claims that Johannes is “markedly optical in [his] dealings with the world… Johannes loses himself so completely in the sight of Cordelia that the actual Cordelia disappears from his field of vision, which is why she comes close to be being merely a name for the aesthetics of voyeurism that saturates the pages of the diary.”51 this focus on the urban visual, however, as garff hints, is not a benign one, and certainly not in “the seducer’s diary.” in fact, such a form of seeing becomes pathological in its obsessive attempts to see and to watch Cordelia, even to the point where Johannes fears he has lost his ability to see at one point, that he has gone blind.52 this emphasis on the visual, leading garff to claim that it is the visual that drives the entire plot of the diary, is supported by a series of important visual objects in the diary. mirrors abound, as do descriptions of Johannes’ oblique look as a kind of fencing with the eyes: “be careful; such a glance from below is more dangerous than one that is gerade aus [direct]! It is like fencing; and what weapon is as sharp, as penetrating, as gleaming in its movement and thereby as illusive as the eye?”53 these martial descriptions of looking as a kind of fencing suggest the violence done through the act of looking. The objectification of Cordelia reinforced by the emphasis on visual culture has, among many other elements led feminist scholars to see in Johannes the operation “of a pathological masculine heterosexuality.”54 this concern is much in evidence throughout both the diary and the banquet speech in Stages on Life’s Way. according to Jane duran, the feminine in these two works is articulated “through the uses of categories employing females in ways that tend to trivialize or diminish the concept of woman apart from her objectification at the hands of male categorization.”55 indeed, the only knowledge we have of Cordelia—who she is, what she thinks and feels, what she says and does—is entirely filtered through the imagination of Johannes and deposited on the pages of the diary. only under the most suspect circumstances do we get Cordelia’s words in the preface to the diary that a writes. since these are transcriptions of Cordelia’s letters, they too become only hazy approximations as Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2007, p. 271. 52 SKS 2, 313 / EO1, 323. 53 SKS 2, 308 / EO1, 318. 54 berry, “the Heterosexual imagination and aesthetic existence in Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part one,” p. 31. 55 Jane duran, “the Kierkegaardian Feminist,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by León and walsh,, p. 249. 51

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to who Cordelia actually is. Furthermore, Cordelia, as the object of Johannes’ gaze is not only to be had in a physical, sexual sense (though this is debated to a certain extent) but to actually be remade or fashioned into Johannes’ desired object. thus Cordelia is crucially a creation of Johannes both in the sense of the aims and goals of his seduction—to awaken in Cordelia her aesthetic self—but also in the way he has already imagined her to be as woman even prior to the seduction.56 Johannes’ more philosophical articulations of who and what woman is, his philosophy of sexual differentiation, revolves around a conception of woman as “being-for-other” while man is defined as woman’s opposite or antithesis, the Hegelian being-for-self.57 To define man and woman in such way immediately raises ethical questions, and of course we receive a response in the second volume of Either/Or in Judge william’s interest in marriage as the example par excellence of the ethical life view. William’s own definition of man and woman is not without its ethical problems either. ethics though in the context of the diary, as berthold describes it, is the possibility of “an ideal encounter in which the other is not merely an object of my own reflection and representation of her, and the longing for a merging of the two in one experience.”58 berthold views the seducer as violating such an ethical engagement. Just beyond the quotation above he will describe Johannes’ involvement with Cordelia as “a highly aestheticized and intellectualized but intentionally and exuberantly non-ethical encounter.”59 Johannes’ treatment of Cordelia then demands a response that takes umbrage at her becoming simply an object for another’s gratification and pleasure. For Wanda Berry, the placement of “The Seducer’s Diary” at the conclusion of the first part of Either/Or is not accidental but indicates that the “issues implicit in the whole volume’s male–female imagery are crystallized in Johannes’s theory and practice.”60 thus the diary becomes part of a broader discourse on a heteronormativity operative in Copenhagen in the nineteenth century. and not the diary alone but Johannes’ speech at the banquet found in Stages on Life’s Way. at issue in Johannes’ banquet speech is the question of what a woman is as well as the relationship between the sexes. as in “the seducers’ diary,” this question rests not only upon a “correct” understanding of man and woman but also upon questions of power, domination, and submission. in Hilarius bookbinder’s Cordelia, it can be argued, is thoroughly a creation of Johannes’ imagination, even from the beginning, where Johannes imagines her as innocent, untainted, virginal and hence natural. John smyth throughout A Question of Eros is particularly interested in dismantling the perception of nature and the natural as somehow prior to irony and artifice. In his deconstruction of such a binary, smyth suggests that the presumed naturalness of Cordelia is itself a fiction that Johannes first imagines so as to reimagine her as recreated anew. Thus any real opposition between artifice and nature cannot be guaranteed, but is always completely subject to the seducer’s ways of imagining woman and the world. see smyth, A Question of Eros: Irony in Sterne, Kierkegaard, and Barthes, pp. 250ff. 57 SKS 2, 417 / EO1, 429. 58 berthold, “Kierkegaard’s seductions: the ethics of authorship,” p. 1048. 59 ibid. 60 berry, “the Heterosexual imagination and aesthetic existence in Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part one,” p. 28. 56

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Stages in Life’s Way, Johannes appears as part of a group of five participants at the banquet hosted by william afham in “in vino veritas.” the participants include victor eremita, the editor of Either/Or, Constantin Constantius and the young man from Repetition as well as a couple of other figures. Johannes is the last of the five speakers to speak at the banquet and speaks, as he says, in praise of woman. He castigates his fellow diners for being what he terms “unhappy lovers”61 of women as opposed to his being a happy lover. what Johannes means by this is that he chooses not to transform or change women as the rest of the party ostensibly wishes to do, but rather takes them as they are. What follows in Johannes’ speech is then a very specific description of the essence as he sees it of woman. Johannes begins with a myth in which woman was created by the gods out of fear of man’s potential challenge to the gods’ authority and power. For the most part, Johannes concedes, the gods were successful. woman has diverted any designs men may have on usurping the power of the gods to them. However, there are a few men who see through this stratagem. these Johannes calls happy lovers. these are the “devotees of erotic love.”62 these are seducers in Johannes’ more refined sense of the term in that they thwart the gods’ plan and, as he puts it, “eat only what is more costly than ambrosia and drink what is more delicious than nectar: they eat the most seductive whims of the gods’ most cunning thought; they always eat only the bait.”63 such happy lovers are not taken in by the gods and their plan—not deceived by the gods’ deception—and therefore avoid any serious emotional attachment to woman. instead, the seducers see woman as a “workshop of possibilities”64 to be explored, experimented with but never to become attached to. woman, according to Johannes, is there for enjoyment and thus the categorical imperative by which all seducers live is to “enjoy!” such an imperative as Johannes sees it, and the rationale for the aesthetic life, is not given from the gods (at least not in the way Johannes thinks of enjoyment) nor is it given from man to himself. the imperative in fact emerges from the very nature of woman. according to Johannes, this is woman’s raison d’être: to be desired and hence to be enjoyed. and the gods fashioned her so with her modesty, her allure, her beauty. accordingly, it is no wonder that Johannes and to some extent the aesthetic world-view is not only hedonist but can also be characterized as sexist and misogynistic. The diary and Johannes along with it, present a figure that is completely “heterosexualized” and therefore misogynistic and deeply unethical. though berry and other feminist scholars argue that the placement of the diary in the whole of Either/Or is not accidental, there are others who infer something altogether different from its placement than Johannes as the epitome of the aesthetic life view. opposed to a strictly “aesthetical” reading of Johannes and the manner of his seduction, begonya saez tajafuerce contends that “the seducer’s diary” and its placement in fact opens onto the ethical. For Tajafuerce the more reflective strategy of seduction that Johannes embodies must be read as fundamentally ethical. she writes: 61 62 63 64

SKS 6, 71 / SLW, 72. SKS 6, 74 / SLW, 75. SKS 6, 74–5 / SLW, 75. SKS 6, 75 / SLW, 76.

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Nathaniel Kramer fiction cannot be considered a sheer phantasmagoric space to escape from immediacy and/or reality, as Judge william stresses. on the contrary, a’s proposal, which—it can be assumed—Johannes shares, is far more interesting, in the sense that it stresses the potential of passion within fiction and, thereby, the potential of ethics within aesthetics. If this holds, then fiction(ality) is Johannes’ and A’ s permanently (in every seduction and in every creation) reconfigured pragmatic frame; the frame for aesthetic action.65

tajafuerce calls the dialectically superior johannesque seduction (superior to both Don Juan and Faust) “the highest cipher of reflection.66 this characterization of Johannes’ seduction is not simply one more acknowledgment of the seducer’s reflective capacities, but a recognition of the creative possibilities found within his form of seduction. tajafuerce contends that the productive and creative capacities inherent in Johannes’ form of seduction “seduces the reader in that it deceives him/her into what it creates, namely a new reality (fiction), in that it opens up a new world of possibilities and indirectly demands a reaction from the reader to the existential proposal it makes manifest.”67 this opening up of the ethical through the seduction of the reader (and presumably Cordelia as well), tajafuerce calls “ethical seduction.”68 In many ways, Tajafuerce’s argument is prefigured by sylvia walsh’s argument in her 1979 “don Juan and the representation of spiritual sensuousness.” Here, walsh explores the possibility of seeing don Juan as a “spiritual erotic figure” in which he might shed light on the “sensuous character of religious life.”69 although walsh does not go so far as to claim this possibility for Johannes, there is something strikingly similar to Johannes in her argument that “emerging from past characterizations which tend to present him as a daemonic or as an unethical figure, yet retaining his basic association with the sensuous and the sexual, a spiritual don Juan may give expression to a new sense of interrelatedness within oneself and with others.”70 this combination of the sensuous and the sexual with the spiritual may describe a way to think of Johannes beyond merely aesthetic categories. indeed, such readings may force us to reconsider Johannes as merely an aesthete, even if we have accorded him a relatively significant place within that stage. such an opening up of Johannes onto the ethical and not merely characterizing him as the aesthete par excellence returns us to an argument that has been made by several scholars, even figures from very early on in the reception of Kierkegaard and his philosophy. that argument is that Kierkegaard himself must be understood as something of a seducer in his conception of “indirect communication.” this is to say that “the seducer’s diary” and indeed Johannes himself might be early attempts by Kierkegaard at a strategy of authorship that is at every turn bent on the seduction of begonya saez tajafuerce, “Kierkegaardian seduction, or the aesthetic actio(nes) in distans,” Diacritics, vol. 30, no. 1, 2000, pp. 84–5. 66 ibid., p. 84. 67 ibid., p. 86. 68 ibid. 69 sylvia walsh, “don Juan and the representation of spiritual sensuousness,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion, vol. 47, no. 4, 1979, p. 628. 70 ibid., p. 638. 65

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the reader. but such a seduction of the reader is not merely an aestheticizing, utterly fictional, and imaginative exploration of possibility but in fact the very basis of a truly ethical communication with the reader. is it possible that this is what is revealed in an understanding of Johannes and his diary?

bibliography agacinski, sylviane, Aparté: Conceptions and Deaths of Søren Kierkegaard, trans. by Kevin newmark, gainesville: university Presses of Florida 1988, pp. 50–2. baudrillard, Jean, Seductions, trans. by brian singer, new york: st. martin’s Press 1990, pp. 98–118. berry, wanda w., “the Heterosexual imagination and aesthetic existence in Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part one,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 18–20. berthold, daniel, “Kierkegaard’s seductions and the ethics of authorship,” Modern Language Notes, vol. 120, 2005, pp. 1044–65. brandt, Frithiof, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard. En Række nye Bidrag, Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, pp. 160–304. Crites, stephen, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City: anchor books 1972, pp. 183–229; p. 207. dewey, bradley r., “the erotic-demonic in Kierkegaard’s ‘diary of the seducer,’ ” in Scandinavica, vol. 10, London: norvik Press 1971, pp. 1–24. — “søren Kierkegaard’s diary of the seducer: a History of its use and abuse in international Print,” Fund og Forskning, vol. 20, 1973, pp. 138–56. — “seven seducers: a typology of interpretations of the aesthetic stage in Kierkegaard’s ‘the seducer’s diary,’ ” in Either/Or. Part I, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 159–99. downing, eric, Artificial I’s: The Self as Artwork in Ovid, Kierkegaard, and Thomas Mann, tübingen: max niemeyer 1993, pp. 75–127. dunning, stephen r., Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness: A Structural Analysis of the Theory of Stages, Princeton: Princeton university 1985, pp. 53–9; pp. 62–3; pp. 69–73; pp. 94–6; p. 247; p. 268. duran, Jane, “the Kierkegaardian Feminist,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 251–5. eagleton, terry, “absolute ironies,” in The Ideology of the Aesthetic, oxford: basil blackwell 1990, pp. 173–95. evans, Jan e., and C. stephen evans, “Kierkegaard’s aesthete and unamuno’s Niebla,” in Philosophy and Literature, vol. 28, no. 2, 2004, pp. 342–52. Fenger, Henning, Kierkegaard: The Myths and Their Origins, trans. by george C. Schoolfield, New Haven: Yale University Press 1980, pp. 179–212.

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garff, Joakim, “victor eremita—og Kierkegaard. ‘det Æstetiske er overhovedet mit element,’” in Kierkegaard—pseudonymitet, ed. by birgit bertung, Paul müller, and Fritz norlan, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1993 (Søren Kierkegaards Selskabets Populære Skrifter, vol. 21), pp. 58–60. gouwens, david J., Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of the Imagination, new york: Peter Lang 1989 (American University Studies, Philosophy, vol. 7), p. 160; pp. 175–7. greene, robert, The Art of Seduction, new york: viking 2001, p. xxiv; p. 24; p. 31; pp. 169–72; pp. 179–82; p. 193; p. 201; p. 224; p. 246; pp. 254–7; p. 279; pp. 289–91; p. 357; p. 373; pp. 387–9. grimsley, ronald, Søren Kierkegaard and French Literature: Eight Comparative Studies, Cardiff: university of wales Press 1966, pp. 11–44. Hall, amy Laura, Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2002, pp. 144–5; p. 176. Hannay, alastair, “afterword,” in Diary of a Seducer, søren Kierkegaard, London: Penguin books 2009, pp. 187–91. Holm, isak winkel, Tanken i billedet: Søren Kierkegaards poetik, Copenhagen: gyldendal 1998, pp. 205–46. Howe, Leslie a., “Kierkegaard and the Feminine self,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 217–47. Jensen, Jørgen Bonde, “København som refleksions-spejl for Søren Kierkegaard i Forførerens dagbog,” in Københavnerromaner, ed. by marianne barlyng and søren schou, Copenhagen: borgens Forlag 1996, pp. 28–44. Kennedy, thomas e., “the secret Life of Kierkegaard‘s Lover,” Literary Review, vol. 45, no. 4, 2002 (madison: Farleigh dickinson university), pp. 777–84. León, Céline, “the no woman’s Land of Kierkegaardian seduction,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 147–74. Lorentzen, Jamie, Kierkegaard’s Metaphors, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2001, pp. 91–2. mackey, Louis, “the Poetry of inwardness,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, new york: doubleday 1972, pp. 16–24. madsen, Peter, “imagined urbanity: novelistic representations of Copenhagen,” in Urban Lifeworld: Formation, Perception & Representation, ed. by Peter madsen and richard Plunz, new york: routledge 2002, pp. 293–313. mcbride, william L., “sartre’s debts to Kierkegaard: a Partial reckoning,” in Kierkegaard in Postmodernity, ed. by Martin J. Matustík and Merold Westphal, bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 1995, pp. 31–9. nordentoft, Kresten, Kierkegaards psykologi, Copenhagen: g.e.C gad 1972, pp. 65–71. Pattison, george, “Poor Paris!” Kierkegaard’s Critique of the Spectacular City, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 1999 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 2), pp. 12–15; p. 47; pp. 64–71; p. 78.

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Perkins, robert L. “the Politics of existence: buber and Kierkegaard,” in Kierkegaard in Postmodernity, ed. by Martin J. Matustík and Merold Westphal, bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 1995, pp. 171–2. — “woman-bashing in Kierkegaard’s ‘in vino veritas’: a reinscription of Plato’s Symposium,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 97–8. rehm, walther, Kierkegaard und der Verführer, munich: H. rinn 1949. smyth, John vignaux, A Question of Eros: Irony in Sterne, Kierkegaard, and Barthes, tallahassee: Florida state university Press 1986, pp. 246–55. sæverot, Herner, “Kierkegaard, seduction, and existential education,” Studies in Philosophy and Education, vol. 30, no. 6, 2011, pp. 557–72. tajafuerce, begonya saez, “Kierkegaardian seduction, or the aesthetic actio(nes) in distans,” Diacritics, vol. 30, no. 1, 2000, pp. 78–88. taylor, mark C., Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Authorship, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1975, pp. 166–75. — Journeys to Selfhood: Hegel and Kierkegaard, berkeley: university of California Press 1980, pp. 238–41. thompson, Josiah, “the master of irony,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, new york: anchor books 1972, p. 109; pp. 121–4. walsh, sylvia, “don Juan and the representation of spiritual sensuousness,” in Journal of the American Academy of Religion, vol. 47, no. 4, 1979, pp. 627–44. — Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, pp. 91–6; p. 142. — “on ‘Feminine’ and ‘masculine’ Forms of despair,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 203–16. watkin, Julia, “the Logic of Kierkegaard’s misogyny,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 69–82. — Historical Dictionary of Kierkegaard’s Philosophy, Lanham, maryland: scarecrow Press 2000, p. 14; p. 63; pp. 73–4; p. 155; p. 186; pp. 241–3; pp. 404–5. webber, ruth House, “Kierkegaard and the elaboration of unamuno’s Niebla,” Hispanic Review, vol. 32, no. 2, 1964, pp. 118–34.

Judge william: the Limits of the ethical Patricia C. dip

I. Judge William: Only a Witness Kierkegaard has a clear awareness of the problem of communication and builds a “theory of authorship” with the aim of highlighting this problem. addressing the work of such a thinker, therefore, requires establishing a methodological criterion which permits understanding of the sense which the use of the different pseudonymous characters has in the body of his work. When outlining the profile of the pseudonymous authors, in this case the figure of Judge William, we believe it is proper to distinguish between two planes or levels of analysis. on one hand, there is the literary or fictional level, at which the Judge’s character is described in the first person, that is to say, on the basis of a self-referential narrative, which constitutes him as the model of bourgeois morals, a good citizen who respects the rules established in both public and private spheres. on the other hand, there is the philosophical or conceptual level, within which understanding the Judge means confronting the discourse he himself elaborates in different books and the sense which this discourse has within the general framework of Kierkegaard’s work. With regard to the literary level, the most accurate data we can find are offered by the Judge himself in Either/Or. in this work the Judge declares himself to be “only a witness”1 who is far from believing himself important enough to come forward and present himself in the name of ethics: “it was never my purpose to present a doctrine of duty.”2 If we trust the Judge’s description, we will find a kind of tension between the “intentions” that seem to animate the writing of his letters and the sense that these acquire in the Kierkegaardian corpus. no reader of Kierkegaard would address the problem of ethics without alluding to the Judge’s discourse. Perhaps the Judge is lying?3 should we be wary of the character who maintains he loves his language and nation and that his life has meaning precisely because of this? SKS 3, 305 / EO2, 323. ibid. 3 The Judge does not define himself as an “ethicist” but rather as a “husband” in clear opposition to the figure of the philosopher who adheres to the “new philosophy.” “Now, although i am not a philosopher, i nevertheless am constrained at this point to venture into a little philosophical deliberation, which i beg you not so much to criticize as to take ad notam for yourself” (SKS 3, 166 / EO2, 170). 1 2

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when the Judge makes what he himself calls his “deposition”4 (Vidne-Forklaring) we find ourselves in the company of a loving husband who takes care of his wife and children and enjoys his profession. this is a balanced and happy man who shows no sign of any conflict regarding the reconciliation of duty and desire. The Judge seems always to choose the right thing: i do my work as a Judge in the court. i am happy in my calling; i believe it suits my capabilities and my whole personality; i know that it demands all my capacities. i try to educate myself more and more for it, and in so doing i feel also that i am developing myself more and more. i love my wife, am happy in my home; i listen to my wife’s lullaby, and to me it is more beautiful than any other song, but i do not therefore believe that she is a singer; i listen to the little one cry, and to my ears it is not discordant. i watch his older brother grow and make progress; I gaze happily and confidently into his future, not impatiently, for i have time enough to wait, and to me this waiting is in itself a joy.5

evidently, this is the testimony to the simplicity and beauty of the life of someone who consistently says “i am not a philosopher.”6 “i respect scholarship, and i honor its devotees.”7 “i am a married man; i have children,”8 who asks of philosophy: “what a human being has to do in life.”9 “as you know, i have never passed myself off as a philosopher, least of all when i am conversing with you. Partly to tease you a little, partly because it actually is my most cherished, precious, and in a certain sense most meaningful occupation in life, i usually appear as a married man.”10 As a “husband” he defines himself in relation to his wife: “in her presence, I am simultaneously priest and congregation.”11 “i truly do feel keenly that she really loves me and that i really love her.”12 moreover, the Judge delights in “rejuvenating” his first love, “that it has for me just as much religious as esthetic meaning.”13 If we accept the testimony of the Judge, we will see that the figure of the husband is opposed simultaneously to the philosopher and the seducer. He opposes the first, pointing out the inability of philosophy to give a response to the problem of action; it is not committed to what a man ought to do in his life, but to the understanding of world history. He opposes the second by showing that he is prey to the same inability as that of the philosopher due to his lack of decision—which is understood as weakness of character or personality—to become “historic” by realizing his love in marriage. Thus, the definition of the husband as the representative of the vita activa, the essence of which consists in the assertion of character as the decisive element in future action of which both the philosopher and the seducer are unaware, is realized on the basis of a set of identifications and contrasts. Within this framework, the 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

SKS 3, 306 / EO2, 324. SKS 3, 305–6 / EO2, 323–4. SKS 3, 168 / EO2, 172. ibid. ibid. ibid. SKS 3, 166 / EO2, 170. SKS 3, 19 / EO2, 9–10 SKS 3, 19 / EO2, 10. SKS 3, 20 / EO2, 10.

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woman is the figure with whom the husband identifies as his “spiritual complement,” while the philosopher is his “intellectual opposite” and the seducer his “aesthetic opposite.” vital action supposes the overcoming of the “speculative opposites” (the philosopher and the seducer) and the affirmation of the existence of the husband, whose identity can only bestow itself on the relationship with the woman because, “the genuinely extraordinary person is the genuinely ordinary person.”14 II. Ethics and Subjectivity In his first published work, Either/Or (1843), Kierkegaard justifies the use of pseudonyms on the basis of a fictional story according to which Victor Eremita, the editor of the work, finds by chance some papers attributed to two authors. The eight writings which form the first part are known as A’s Papers and the two long letters and the sermon which appear in the second part, sent by Judge william to a, as B’s Papers. although the content of the letters has been subject to different interpretations,15 most commentators accept the ethical meaning of the Judge’s preoccupations in the face of the aesthetic descriptions presented in the first part of the work by A. The difficulties appear when an attempt is made to define what the ethical means for the Judge and in what way he confronts the aesthetic. with regard to this question, it is important to make some clarifications. In the first place, although Either/Or assumes a confrontation between two choices, this does not necessarily imply an opposition between the ethical way of life, determined by a telos which bestows unity on the multiplicity of aesthetic perspectives, and the unchangeable immediacy related to the aesthetic life. that is to say, it might be hasty to reduce the confrontation to the dialectic “aesthetic versus ethical,” because this dialectic does not exhaust the multiplicity of questions that Kierkegaard discusses from the “ethical” perspective. in this sense, we must recognize that Kierkegaard uses distinct understandings of the term “ethical” and analyze the role which these play in the whole of his oeuvre in order to understand the specific sense which the ethical possesses in the context of Judge william’s discourse. the ethical is mediation; rupture with aesthetic immediacy; subjective interest in existence; the general—represented either by the Kantian concept of ought or by Hegelian Sittlichkeit—a state of existence, and also the radical choice of oneself SKS 3, 309 / EO2, 328. in the same vein, the Judge says: “i am an ordinary human being who stands outside poetry.” SKS 3, 307 / EO2, 326. 15 The Hegelian origin of the expression “either/or” which gives the title to the first pseudonymous book published by Kierkegaard has been pointed out by Jon stewart, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 184–95; the Hegelian nature of the Judge’s discourse has been expounded by merold westphal, “Kierkegaard and Hegel,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press, 1998, pp.101–24; and the influence of Kant on the Judge’s discourse pointed out by a number of commentators, amongst them ronald green, Kierkegaard and Kant: The Hidden Debt, albany, new york: state university of new york Press 1992, pp. 75–109. 14

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(at vælge sig selv). each of these understandings occupies an important place in different discursive contexts. it is vital to determine the sense of the ethical in Either/ Or with the end of understanding its relation to the aesthetic. on the other hand, it is also necessary to elucidate the sense of the Kierkegaardian aut-aut, which does not imply an exclusive disjunction but rather the affirmation of the failure of both options once the religious is introduced as a criteria, as is made manifest in the “ultimatum,” when the pastor exhorts us to consider that “before god” we are always in error. that is to say, Either/Or does not represent an alternative between the aesthetic and the ethical but rather the dissolution of any alternative through the introduction of the notion of eternity, which converts both the aesthetic and the ethical into the synonyms of despair. therefore, it is in the “diapsalmata” that the failure of this disjunction is best expressed, because whatever you do, you will regret it. if both aesthetics and ethics lead to the failure of despair, then, not only the efforts to oppose one mode of life to another are in vain, but also the identification of the Judge’s discourse with the final position of Kierkegaard.16 in my view, Kierkegaard’s strategy consists in opposing the two perspectives with the aim of reducing both to the absurdity of immanence or “first immediacy,” which can only be superseded with the introduction of the “second immediacy.” in this context we must clarify a fundamental distinction: aesthetics assumes an immediate relation to being, by means of which “every one is as he is,” and ethics permits explanation of the evolution of being by introducing, not only reflection in the sense in which Hegel understands the conduct of Kantian understanding, but also the challenge of the will; but, as anti-Climacus explains in The Sickness unto Death, only the spirit grants the self its true dimension by obliging it to confront the power on which it is based. we cannot understand the sense of the radical choice of the self itself except in the context of the discussion of the constitution of Kierkegaardian subjectivity.17 this discussion, initiated in Either/Or, concludes with the formulation of a “spiritualist” philosophical anthropology whose basis is expressed in The Concept of Anxiety and The Sickness unto Death, where man is defined as spirit whose essence reduces not to an immediate relation between body and soul—which man would share with the animals—but rather to a dialectical relation mediated by a third element which only makes sense with the appearance of the “self.” thanks to the fact that man possesses a self, he is confronted with the alternative: to live in despair or cling the most important difference between the Judge’s position and that of Kierkegaard lies in the place that ethics holds in their respective considerations. Kierkegaard’s conception highlights the absolutely subjective interest which ethics has in the formation of selfconsciousness, whose full meaning can only be found in the imperative “you should love.” the Judge emphasizes the importance of the will with regard to the formation of self-consciousness but does not base it on the notion that ultimately sustains it, which is introduced by antiClimacus, namely: for Gud. Kierkegaard conceives of himself between Johannes Climacus and anti-Climacus, a step ahead of the former but a step behind the latter. He recognizes that anti-Climacus’ demand is ultimately “impossible” for him because it is based on a “rigorous” conception of Christianity, whose risk lies in locating ethics in the sphere of mere “ideality.” 17 mackey defends a similar idea when he maintains, “ethics, for Judge wilhelm, is not a matter of values but of being.” Louis mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, p. 56. 16

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to faith. without the awareness of despair, faith cannot appear on the horizon of meaning of Kierkegaardian anthropology. the importance of this consciousness is made clear by the analysis of Either/Or undertaken by Johannes Climacus in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.18 According to Climacus, the first part of Either/ Or is dedicated to melancholy; it deals with a fantasy which exists in the aesthetic passion and whose highest point is despair. it is not existence which is at stake, but only the possibility of an existence which does not want to make itself conscious by resorting to the “deception” of thought. in the second part, a “change of scene” is produced, whose function consists in enhancing the first part of the work: now ethical individuality exists on the basis of the ethical.19 in this context, the analytical perspective which defends the opposition between the aesthetic and the ethical possesses a relative value, for it is inscribed within a more general discussion of the practical, concrete, subjective, and existential character of the ethical as opposed to the abstract and speculative character which Kierkegaard understands that it acquires at the core of the Hegelian philosophy.20 Hence, to make absolute the opposition between the aesthetic and the ethical, necessarily leads us to the formulation of a series of interpretative confusions which arise from the debate generated by macintyre. III. Judge William Today although it was not his intention, with the publication of his After Virtue,21 macintyre was responsible for placing the figure of Judge William at the center of the debate on Kierkegaard in English; in it he maintains two controversial statements. The first of these is the idea that the failure of the Enlightenment project to find a rational basis for the ethical led Kierkegaard to search for a solution in the notion of “radical choice” expounded by the Judge in Either/Or. the second is the idea that the choice between the aesthetic and the ethical that the Judge defends, is completely without criterion.22 many aspects of this question have to do with the impossibility of understanding that Kierkegaard is interested in the problem of ethics not from the speculative point of view but rather from what we could call the “subjective-existential” perspective. SKS 7, 230 / CUP1, 253: “Part I is an existence-possibility that cannot attain existence, a depression that must be worked upon ethically. essentially it is a depression…. it is a fantasy-existence in aesthetic passion….at its maximum, it is despair.” SKS 7, 230 / CUP1, 253: “Part II is an ethical individuality existing on the basis of the ethical….the ethicist has despaired.” 19 Cf. SKS 7, 230 / CUP1, 253. 20 ibid.: “Either/Or, the title of which is in itself indicative, has the existence-relation between the aesthetic and the ethical materialize into existence in the existing individuality. this to me is the book’s indirect polemic against speculative thought, which is indifferent to existence.” 21 alasdair C. macintyre, After Virtue, notre dame: university of notre dame Press 1981. 22 to follow this debate, see Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John J. davenport and anthony rudd with replies by alasdair macintyre and Philip L. Quinn, Chicago and La salle: open Court 2001. 18

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this, however, does not mean that Kierkegaard rejects the possibility of discussing the question of the foundations of the ethical and, still less, that he falls into a blind irrationalism. He simply does not discuss this problem,23 and he is inclined rather to accentuate the “dilemmatic” character that the ethical acquires in the existence of the individual who “acts.” in relation to the foregoing, we believe it is important to emphasize the “psychological” sense of the approach to the moral problem, which places the “interiority” of the person center stage. in this context, the personality which is acquired with the radical choice in Either/Or is fundamental, not as a moral criterion which enables us to distinguish good and evil, but rather as a “psychological” condition of the possibility of the moral life.24 an individual who lacks the “baptism of the will” cannot become responsible for his own choices. in the formation of the personality, which we read as a first moment in the process of the constitution of subjectivity, the radical choice of the self itself implies the introduction of the will as a determining criterion, given that all choice is arbitrary if the person who makes it does not “want” to make himself responsible for it. the opposition between the aesthetic and the ethical is psychological rather than moral and relative rather than absolute. it represents only one moment of the Kierkegaardian description of the if i had to evaluate Kierkegaard’s discussion of ethics in terms of its foundations, i would have to say that the moral would acquire a heteronymous sense, because it would not be based on the good will but rather on god. in short, as Peck maintains, the idea of autonomy is not sufficient in order to constitute the subject of Kierkegaardian ethics. In the end, the “self” needs to have recourse to divine grace in order to be able to develop itself fully. in other words, the constitution of the moral subject is not completely under control of the self because there is an “external” power which determines it. see dalton w. Peck, On Autonomy: The Primacy of the Subject in Kant and Kierkegaard, Ph.d. dissertation, yale university, 1974. Thus, the autonomy of ethics finds its limits in dogmatics and is converted into what Vigilius Haufniensis calls “second ethics.” in this context, we believe that the problem of autonomy is presented by Kierkegaard in a “dialectical” manner. the danish thinker undertook a highly distinctive movement “back to Kant”—as Peck would say—because he returns to Kant on the basis of Hegel. in other words, he makes dialectical the static model of Kantian dualism. because of this, he introduces a third element into the Kantian opposition between nature and freedom, which is “the spirit.” the “self” is at the same time the foundation of the dialectic of autonomy and heteronomy, which is constructed on the basis of another distinction which runs through the entire oeuvre of Kierkegaard: interiority and exteriority. as is shown in Either/Or, everything which is not produced by the agent’s will, is thought of as an “external” determination, and, as such, heteronymous. this implies the existence of a conceptual assimilation between the terms freedom and interiority. it is the “desire” for freedom that converts the subject into the concrete finite or “aesthetic” self which chooses itself, transforming its life into “existence” thanks to the ethical movement of consciousness. Ethics is defined thus as the “self consciousness” of the finite. However, having arrived at this point, ethics itself demands to be superseded. The self-consciousness of the finitude of the moral agent leads to the transcendence or the heteronomy of the “second ethics.” 24 For “Kierkegaard’s “psychological morality” see Peter J. mehl, “moral virtue, mental Health, and Happiness: the moral Psychology of Kierkegaard´s Judge william,” in Either/Or, II, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol 17), pp. 155–82. 23

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ethical,25 which is not exhausted by the figure of the Judge;26 it rather assumes, on the one hand, the reconsideration of the ethical problem presented in 1847 in Works of Love, where the moral cannot be thought of outside of the Christian paradigm of the love of one’s neighbor, and, on the other, the fundamental anthropological discussion of the ethical introduced in 1844 in The Concept of Anxiety, concluded in 1849 in The Sickness unto Death, and brought to a head within the analytical framework of “the constitution of subjectivity.” IV. Judge William According to Kierkegaard’s Authorship A. The Transfiguration of Absolute Choice in either/or The first moment of the “constitution of subjectivity” is the choice of the self described in Either/Or. in this context, it is important to take into account that what appears “immediately” before the subject can determine its personality only in the sense of the psyche or mood but not spiritually. the idea of choosing himself implies that the individual becomes capable of accepting himself as spirit. in this sense, we can say that there is no cognitive access to the distinction between good and evil. In spite of its being necessary to place the “reflection” on the ethical plane that breaks up immediacy, what the Judge wants to highlight, in opposition to Kant, is the spiritual sense of choice to the detriment of its rational meaning. would the will then be a category of the spirit while the understanding is that of the reflection? There is no doubt that the answer is in the affirmative for Anti-Climacus. However, it is necessary to point out that the concept of “ethics” is highly problematic and corresponds in Kierkegaard to a double determination (psychic or intellectual and spiritual), which is what leads him to formulate the concept of a “second ethics.” in this sense, if ethical life is understood on the basis of a spiritual foundation on which it rests in the final instance, it could be thought of as the transition from necessity to freedom. ethics is thus the “history of the spirit,” that is to say, freedom. while the aesthetic conception of life means despair, because he who lives aesthetically does For a “procedural” definition of ethics in the work of Kierkegaard, see Arne Grøn, “La ética de la repetición,” in Enrahonar, Quaderns de Filosofia, no. 29, 1998, pp. 35–45. according to grøn, instead of the traditional reading which adheres to the theory of the stages, it is possible to consider the meaning of the ethical—in the different forms in which it appears in the work of Kierkegaard—as a transition from the “first ethics” to the “second.” the “procedural theory” assumes a process full of tensions and in itself “ethical” which leads, without offering an argument, to the transformation of the second ethics, only generated on the basis of the “fracture.” While the official image thinks of the ethical as a position which a subject can adopt, the other interpretation stresses the ethical as the distinctive quality of humanity “which designates the individual as an individual.” 26 although Judge william’s position on the ethical is not exactly the same in Either/Or and Stages on Life’s Way, the psychological meaning of his discourse remains untouched. For a discussion on the “two Judges” see Paul martens, “the equivocal Judge william: Comparing the ethical in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way and Either/Or,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 91–111. 25

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not develop himself, but rather accepts necessity as a condition of his existence, the ethical conception promotes the development of the human being by means of freedom. The importance of the personality in terms of ethics is, in the final instance, of a spiritual order, for man himself is defined later as spirit. The self-consciousness demanded in order to supersede the mere immediacy of the aesthetic life does not have an epistemological character. thus the Judge makes no reference to the socratic “know thyself” but rather highlights the importance of “choosing” oneself when it comes to describing the constitution of the moral subject. it is a question of “noticing” the limits of the self itself, but not objectively, which would be, on the other hand, impossible, for the self of whom we are speaking here is that of every “concrete” individual. in the context of the concrete individual’s life, the most substantial difference between ethical choice and what could be called an “aesthetic decision” is that absolute choice assumes the determination of a “task” which is not circumstantial but decisive for the life of the man considered as a whole. granting the need to think in theological terms, this “task,” considered as the “purpose” of the individual’s life, implies an unavoidable link with the “personality” of the individual, for “what is important in choosing is not so much to choose the right thing as the energy, the earnestness, and the pathos with which one chooses.”27 and it is precisely in this way that “in the choosing the personality declares itself in its inner infinity and in turn the personality is thereby consolidated.”28 according to the Judge, “the aesthetic in a person is that by which he spontaneously and immediately is what he is; the ethical is that by which he becomes what he becomes.”29 while the aesthetic is considered as the “natural” and immediate sphere of the individual, only by referring to ethics can man “evolve” or transform himself into something different. the aesthetic life is over in an instant, and its point of view is, then, “relative” and “limited.” every man naturally feels the need to give his life meaning. this also happens to the aesthete, but his crowning achievement consists in acceding to a “concept of life” while only the individual who decides to live under ethical categories can find a “task.” The aesthete’s objective is “to enjoy life,” and in seeking that end he confronts “conditions” external to his own will: “every aesthetic view of life is despair, and…everyone who lives aesthetically is in despair, whether he knows it or not.”30 However, when the individual is “conscious” of desperation he imposes on himself a “superior” form of existence, namely, the ethical life.31

SKS 3, 164 / EO2, 167. ibid. 29 SKS 3, 174 / EO2, 178. 30 SKS 3, 186 / EO2, 192. 31 the Judge is the representative of this higher form of existence which the ethical life assumes when confronted with the aesthetic. However, in the context of authorship, this form of life also leads to despair, as revealed in The Sickness unto Death, where all ethical categories are redefined on being placed for Gud (before god). 27 28

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B. The Judge in “The Aesthetic Validity of Marriage” Judge william’s discourse is developed in Either/Or and in Stages. despite the apparent similarity of theme which emerges from reading both works, in the latter the religious sphere, which had not been previously contemplated, is introduced.32 Hence, it is necessary to evaluate the effects this produces on the Judge’s discourse of 1845, in order to understand whether there is any change in his position between 1843 and 1845 or, conversely, whether we are looking at the progressive development of a position which is consolidated rather than changed. with this in mind we will analyze the concept of marriage and the philosophical categories used by the Judge in structuring his discourse, namely, at vælge sig selv in 1843 and Beslutning in 1845. b writes a letter to a in an “exhortatory” tone,33 which supposes that “you are the one who is being discussed and you are the one who is spoken to.”34 the epistolatory form of communication might be based on what Climacus calls “subjective knowledge,” that is, the appeal to the inwardness of the existing individual. the objective of b is to “show the esthetic meaning of marriage” and “show how the esthetic in it may be retained”35 from the perspective of the husband who has experienced it and as a consequence of which he is justified in criticizing the relationship of “mere observer,” which the aesthete has had with marriage.36 that is, the confrontation between ethics and aesthetics does not imply the elimination of the latter but its preservation within a higher sphere of existence. the point of view of b is the moral conscience, which seeks to move the aesthete away from the “aesthetic-intellectual intoxication”37 in which he lives in the abstract, experiencing possibilities which are never realized. the immediacy of romantic love fails to understand that the difficulty of eroticism consists not in seeking an object of desire but rather in trying to find out what to do with it once it has been found. It is an essential part of first love to become historical, and marriage is a condition for this. By contrast, first love in the romantic sense is ahistorical, and therein lies the ambiguity of its nature.

between 1843 and 1845 the Judge gradually becomes aware of the limits of his own position, probably due to the emergence of pseudonymous works dedicated to consideration of the troubled relationship between the ethical and religious, as is the case with Fear and Trembling. according to dunning, although the Judge could not understand the ultimatum with which Either/Or ends in 1843, “in Various Observations, however, the Judge is aware of the tension between the ethical and the religious.” stephen dunning, Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985, p. 100. 33 according to Climacus, “the relation between the Judge and the aesthete in Either/ Or made it natural and psychologically proper for the Judge to be exhortative” (SKS 7, 270 / CUP1, 296). 34 SKS 3, 15 / EO2, 5. 35 SKS 3, 18 / EO2, 8. 36 ibid.: “there is something treasonable in wanting to be merely an observer….your psychological interest is not in earnest and is more a hypochondriacal inquisitiveness.” 37 SKS 3, 26 / EO2, 16. 32

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The condition for an affirmative answer is reflection about eternity.39 From the perspective of time, first love is thought of as a synthesis between the temporal and the eternal, for in “the first” the whole is already implicitly present: “For the happy individualities, the first love is also the second, the third, the last; here the first love has the qualification of eternity; for the unhappy individualities, the first love is the instant, it acquires the qualification of the temporal.”40 only the husband is capable of holding eternity in time because thanks to conjugal love he comes to have an internal history the aesthete is ignorant of as he bases his life on the moment of enjoyment. the husband, however, not only enjoys but also manages to “own” his love because of the constancy which converts it into history. Continuity in time is the necessary condition for preserving the passion of love. what the aesthete rejects under the name of “custom” is the historic nature of marriage, which allows the husband to “realize” his love rather than idealize it poetically. This description is made accepting that, despite being defined as “spirit,” Christianity does not remove the sensuality but preserves it: “yes, indeed, the Christian god is spirit and Christianity is spirit, and there is discord between the flesh and the spirit, but the flesh is not the sensuous—it is the selfish. In this sense, even the spiritual can become sensuous.”41 in this context, marriage does not cause the passion of love but presupposes it and is able to do so because it contains an ethical and religious moment: “marriage is based on resignation, which erotic love does not have.”42 C. Climacus’ Understanding of Judge William “all paganism consists in this, that god is related directly to a human being.”43 From which it can be deduced, in the first place, that in Christianity the relationship between man and god is indirect and, in the second, Kierkegaard’s need to highlight this situation through a discursive strategy capable of reflecting it. In short, the truth of Christianity can only be communicated indirectly. so we must analyze the

SKS 3, 37 / EO2, 29–30. SKS 3, 49 / EO2, 42: “But is not the first love only the first? Yes, but, if one reflects on the content, only insofar as one remains in it. then if one remains in it, does it not nevertheless become a second love? No, precisely because one remains in it, it remains the first love—if one reflects upon eternity.” 40 SKS 3, 48 / EO2, 41. 41 SKS 3, 56 / EO2, 49. 42 SKS 3, 43 / EO2, 36. 43 SKS 7, 223 / CUP1, 245. 38 39

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discourse of Judge william to understand the limits of its exposition in the broader context of Kierkegaard’s authorship. in 1846, Johannes Climacus refers to the Judge as “the ethicist”44 who has been desperate and in his despair has chosen himself becoming transparent through this choice: “the expression that sharply emphasizes the difference between the aesthetic and the ethical is: it is every human being’s duty to become open.”45 Climacus continues: He is a married man (a was acquainted with every possibility in the erotic realm and yet not even actually in love, for at that very moment he would in a way have been in the process of consolidating himself) and, in direct opposition to the hiddenness of the aesthetic, focuses on marriage as the most profound form of life’s disclosure, whereby time is turned to account for the ethically existing individual, and the possibility of gaining a history is continuity’s ethical victory over hiddenness, depression, illusory passion, and despair.46

the Judge becomes the dialectical counterpart of the aesthete and cannot exist without him. Johannes Climacus makes this clear when he argues that the Judge begins where the seducer ends. Both figures reflect ethical determinations and do not exist autonomously but on the basis of the dialectical tension which they form. the only possible way to overcome this tension is found not in aesthetic or ethical discourse but in religious discourse. Following Johannes Climacus, and at the same time going beyond his own conclusions, we can think of Judge william as the “ethicist” who, although capable of dealing with the immediacy devoid of teleology in which the aesthete develops his existence, lacks sufficient dialectics to understand the limits of his own position. He does not know humor and therefore he lies. the ethicist lies, for he communicates directly what can only be communicated indirectly. His confusion is evident when he seeks to escape immediacy by means of reflection as he does in Stages by trying to prove that marriage retains the amorous passion. Climacus asks himself, “but what according to greve, although Climacus is right when he interprets the succession of pseudonyms written from the perspective of systematic unity, he is wrong to describe the Judge as an ethicist because in Kierkegaard there is no static but rather a dynamic unity of the stages, making it impossible to refer to the aesthetic, the ethical, or the religious. wilfried greve, “el dudoso eticista. o lo uno, o lo otro ii, de Kierkegaard,” Enrahonar, Quaderns de Filosofia, no. 29, 1998, pp. 19–33. i think that despite this, Climacus allows us to understand that the Judge “lies” from the perspective of humor, and therefore, to understand the dynamic unity of the stages. Hence, from Kierkegaard’s perspective, we understand that to call the Judge an “ethicist” does not mean that his position represents the “paradigm of the ethical” but is rather an ironic title which aims to show the limits of the position of Judge, to wit: when confronting the aesthete. in short, neither the one nor the other is an “existing individual” but rather both are reduced to “poetic possibilities.” reality is not achieved in Either/Or, Part one or Either/Or, Part two since neither the aesthete nor the Judge knows “sin.” as stated in the Postscript (SKS 7, 571 / CUP1, 626), “in Either/Or, i am just as little, precisely just as little, the editor victor eremita as i am the seducer or the Judge.” 45 SKS 7, 230 / CUP1, 254. 46 ibid. 44

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does it mean to have actually reflected oneself out of the immediate without having become a master in the comic—what does it mean? well, it means that one is lying.”47 the category of Climacus is the “comic power of humor,” which he conceives of as “the last stage of existence-inwardness before faith.”48 Climacus is opposed to the speculative reading which makes faith something immediate and humor something higher than this: “no, humor terminates immanence within immanence, still consists essentially in recollection’s withdrawal out of existence into the eternal, and only then do faith and the paradoxes begin.”49 therefore, according to Climacus, Stages on Life’s Way “by means of humor as a confinium defines the religious stage,”50 something that had not been achieved in Either/Or. Finally, the apparent seriousness of the ethical position of the Judge51 will be called into question by the formulation of the category of the “the edifying,” synonymous with real seriousness, since it allows us not to think of ethics in immanent categories but on the basis of religious categories doubly reflected in the paradox. The category of “the edifying” will soon find its natural place in Works of Love.52 However, despite being determined by ethics, the Judge gradually becomes aware of the religious. why does the understanding of the religious shown by the Judge turn out not to be sufficient for Kierkegaard? Precisely because the Judge makes use of religion in an immanent sense, that is to say, from the ethical perspective of duty, not understanding its deepest foundation: the terror and paradox. these do not appear when the religious is used only as the scenic background to the transfiguration of ethics into the aesthetic, but only when it makes manifest the collision between the ethical and the religious, as described in Fear and Trembling. true religion means confronting a horror, which from the harmonious perspective of the Judge cannot be perceived. For the latter there is continuity between the ethical and the religious, while other pseudonyms, including Johannes de silentio, occupy themselves with analyzing the relationship from the perspective of rupture and discontinuity between the two spheres. The final position of Kierkegaard in Works of Love is no stranger to the horror of the religious. but he tries to overcome it on the basis of the recovery of erotic sensuality, not in the unexplained synthesis between first love and marriage but on the basis of understanding love as an imperative which arises when the figures

SKS 7, 256 / CUP1, 281. SKS 7, 265 / CUP1, 291. 49 ibid. 50 SKS 7, 273 / CUP1, 300. 51 For Judge william’s seriousness see george Connell, “the importance of being earnest: Coming to terms with Judge william’s seriousness” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 113–48. 52 it is important to distinguish “the authorship of Johannes Climacus” from “the authorship of Kierkegaard.” The former defines himself as “a tragic-comic interested witness of the productions of victor eremita and other pseudonymous authors”(SKS 7, 229 / CUP1, 252) as they did what he intended to do: “to have the existence-relation between the aesthetic and the ethical come into existence in an existing individuality” (SKS 7, 228 / CUP1, 251). For his part, Kierkegaard’s objective in his authorship is wider: it consists in calling attention to the problem of “becoming a Christian.” 47 48

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of the seducer and the Judge move into the background so as to allow the love of one’s neighbor to occupy the center stage. D. The Concept of “Resolution” in stages on Life’s way both in Either/Or and in Stages on Life’s Way the Judge thinks of matrimony as a higher form of love, in contraposition to the aesthete and the spontaneity of paganism which offers a poetic interpretation of the phenomenon of love. However, in 1845 he introduces the category of “decision” (Beslutning) and argues that the previous category of choice (at vælge sig selv) used in Either/Or cannot be applied to eroticism.53 what distinguishes this category from the preceding one is that “the resolution is…a religious point of departure.”54 in other words, in response to the nihilism of the “diapsalmata” (whether you marry or do not marry, you will repent), the Judge introduces a kind of erotico-religious imperative in the bridegroom’s voice: marry! “For marriage is and remains the most important voyage of discovery a human being undertakes.”55 if in Either/Or the Judge is described by Climacus as “ethicist,” in Stages on Life’s Way the figure of the “husband” is emphasized, characterized by his absolute faith in marriage, and the latter is presented as the final telos of individual life because it leads the best of the inclination to a successful completion. marriage is the Christian concept of love based on the idea of god as spirit, as opposed to the poetic conception of paganism. it is not the result of mere spontaneity but the work of freedom. Hence, the task can be carried out only by means of the authority of a decision (Beslutning), which is not a direct outcome of amorous spontaneity but rather presupposes reflection: The difficulty is this: erotic love or falling in love is altogether immediate; marriage is a resolution; yet falling in love must be taken up into marriage or into the resolution: to will to marry—that is, the most immediate of all immediacies must also be the freest resolution…both parts must be present in the moment of decision.56

if marriage were a result of circumstances, it would be arbitrary. However, for the husband, it represents the best lifestyle possible because it retains spontaneity and does so because it is a result of free choice. the decision is the essence of humanity or, in terms of the husband, realizes the “ideality.” However, in order that the discussion can cover the decision, it is important to concentrate on the relationship of the amorous inclination to reality. this task cannot be done without the help of faith because reflection is not allowed to exhaust itself; its infinite character is limited only by faith: SKS 6, 114 / SLW, 121: “there is a category called ‘to choose oneself,’ a somewhat modernized greek category (it is my favorite category and encompasses an individual’s existence), but it should never be applied to the erotic.” 54 SKS 6, 152 / SLW, 162. Climacus acknowledges that in Stages “the Judge is concerned with marriage from an entirely different angle than in Either/Or” (SKS 7, 261–2 / CUP1, 287). 55 SKS 6, 87 / SLW, 89. 56 SKS 6, 97–8 / SLW, 102. 53

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reflection is discharged into faith, which is precisely the anticipation of the ideal infinity as resolution. Thus through the purely ideally exhausted reflection the resolution has gained a new immediacy that corresponds exactly to the immediacy of falling in love. the resolution is a religious view of life constructed upon ethical presuppositions, a view of life that is supposed to pave the way, so to speak, for falling in love and to secure it against any external and internal danger.57

the problem the discourse of Judge william presents us with is that, ultimately, the only possible way to make the ideal reflection “concrete” is through marriage. That is to say, the Judge makes a transition from a descriptive level to a normative level of analysis without adequately substantiating it. He starts from the discussion of what the ideal conditions of the decision would be in order to arrive at its effective implementation in the marriage which, if it is synonymous with a decision and involves reflection, becomes, thanks to faith, the religious point of departure of a new spontaneity: “in the resolution the husband is worthy of the divine gift of falling in love.”58 in this way the Judge wants it to be the case that marriage is not opposed to the amorous inclination but that it contains it ethically in a new religious spontaneity thanks to which “love is a miracle” which can fight the decisive battle: “how can this immediacy (falling in love) find its equivalent in an immediacy reached through reflection?”59 thus, neither love nor religion is permitted to understand; all that remains is to believe, going back to tertullian, incorporating the absurd. the consolation, however, is that, through faith and the decision the husband makes himself into the universal and does not face it with anguish as is the case with abraham in Fear and Trembling. that is, while in Fear and Trembling religion is described from the point of view of the exception, as a break with the universal, in Stages on Life’s Way it is thought of from the regulatory point of view which allows the individual to live by the rule of “common humanity.” V. Concluding Reflections between 1843 (Either/Or) and 1845 (Stages on Life’s Way) the Judge becomes increasingly aware of the limits of his own ethical position with the introduction of the problem of the religious exception. in the Judge the category of “the ethical” performs a specific function, the “critique of the aesthetic life,” which follows the assertion of the universality of bourgeois morality, whose unifying paradigm is represented by “matrimony.” in 1845 the concept of decision is introduced, whose analysis would be consistent if the Judge had not reduced its content to matrimony. while the formal description of the logic of the decision is coherent, this is not to place limits on the material with which marriage deals. to identify the decision with the latter not only detracts from the universality of the concept but also presupposes an unwarranted procedure.

57 58 59

SKS 6, 151 / SLW, 162. SKS 6, 153 / SLW, 164. SKS 6, 117 / SLW, 123.

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in spite of the introduction of changes, there are, however, no substantial differences between the two works, as Climacus recognized when arguing that although three phases occur in Stages, “the book is nevertheless an either/or.”60 this does not preclude Stages being read as a “corrective” to Either/Or. in the work of 1845 we become aware of the difficulty present in Kierkegaard’s first book: one cannot return from despair without the help of the divine. therefore, “the aesthetic and the ethical stages are presented again, in a certain sense as a recapitulation, and yet as something new.”61 what is new, however, is recognized only as a boundary. the category of “the edifying” breaks the gradual acquisition of the consciousness of the religious, the limits of which the Judge arrives at in stages, highlighting the abyss that exists between thought and action. it is not a question of singing the praises of the love of one’s neighbor (whether this is done by the seducer or by the Judge), but of putting it into practice. whether the implementation of Christian love does not leave the limits of interiority and therefore the assumption of bourgeois morality remains in a higher sphere is an issue that cannot be discussed here.

60 61

SKS 7, 268 / CUP1, 294. ibid.

bibliography brandt, Frithiof, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard. En Række nye Bidrag, Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, pp. 71–114. Connell, george, “the importance of being earnest: Coming to terms with Judge william’s seriousness,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 113–48. davenport, John, “the meaning of Kierkegaard’s Choice, between the aesthetic and the ethical: a response to macintyre,” in Kierkegaard After MacIntyre: Essays on Freedom, Narrative, and Virtue, ed. by John J. davenport and anthony rudd with replies by alasdair macintyre and Philip L. Quinn, open Court, illinois: Chicago and La salle 2001, pp. 75–112. dunning, stephen, Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985, pp. 74–104. green, ronald, Kierkegaard and Kant: The Hidden Debt, albany, new york: state university of new york Press 1992, pp. 75–109. greve, wilfried, “el dudoso eticista. o lo uno, o lo otro ii, de Kierkegaard,” Enrahonar, Quaderns de Filosofia, no. 29, 1998, pp. 19–33. grøn, arne, “La ética de la repetición,” Enrahonar, Quaderns de Filosofia, no. 29, 1998, pp. 35–45. macintyre, alasdair, After Virtue, notre dame, indiana: university of notre dame Press 1981, pp. 35–50. mackey, Louis, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 39–84. martens, Paul, “the equivocal Judge william: Comparing the ethical in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way and Either/Or,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 91–111. mehl, Peter J., “moral virtue, mental Health, and Happiness: the moral Psychology of Kierkegaard´s Judge william,” in Either/Or, II, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 17), pp. 155–82. Peck, dalton w., On Autonomy: The Primacy of the Subject in Kant and Kierkegaard, Ph.d. dissertation, yale university, 1974. stewart, Jon, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 184–95. westphal, merold, “Kierkegaard and Hegel,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge, Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 101–24.

nicolaus notabene: Kierkegaard’s satirical mask Nassim Bravo Jordán

nicolaus notabene is better known as the pseudonymous author that Kierkegaard used for Prefaces. within a period of two weeks in June 1844, Kierkegaard accomplished the impressive feat of publishing four books: Three Upbuilding Discourses on June 8, signed by Kierkegaard himself; Philosophical Fragments, or a Fragment of Philosophy on June 13, by Johannes Climacus and edited by s. Kierkegaard, followed by the simultaneous publication on June 17 of The Concept of Anxiety by vigilius Haufniensis and Prefaces by nicolaus notabene. there was a further link between The Concept of Anxiety and Prefaces, inasmuch as the original preface of the former work eventually became Preface vii of the latter. this occurred because of the very intense polemical tone of the piece, which proved to be inadequate for the “somewhat didactical form”1 of a book such as The Concept of Anxiety. Prefaces is a work made up of eight prologues to unwritten books, plus a general preface to the whole text that introduces the pseudonymous author, nicolaus notabene. according to internal evidence, it seems that several of the texts that constitute Prefaces were already written in one way or another before the preparation of the book as a single project. some of them were drafts of polemical texts that Kierkegaard was working on during the period 1843–44. the earliest of these was the draft of a piece entitled “New Year’s Gift” by Nicolaus Notabene, one of the first appearances of this pseudonymous figure. it is usually acknowledged that Prefaces is a satirical work. the numerous parodic references, overt or indirect, to literary arbiter Johan Ludvig Heiberg (1791– 1860) indicate that Kierkegaard chose this book to carry out his polemic against the man whom he once considered as his potential mentor. moreover, it might not be coincidental that he used the pseudonym nicolaus notabene to voice his ultimate satirical opposition to Heiberg. Kierkegaard had, after all, used other pseudonyms for this polemical task, such as victor eremita2 and Constantin Constantius.3 Fully SKS 7, 245 / CUP1, 270. SKS 14, 55–7 / COR, 17–21: “taksigelse til Hr. Professor Heiberg,” Fædrelandet, no. 1168, march 5, 1843. 3 Pap. iv b 110–11, pp. 258–74 / R, supplement, pp. 283–98: “open Letter to Professor Heiberg, Knight of danebrog from Constantin Constantius.” Pap. iv b 112–17, pp. 275–300 / R, supplement, pp. 299–319: “a Little Contribution by Constantin Constantius, author of Repetition.” 1 2

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to understand the content of Prefaces, which might be the most local work in Kierkegaard’s authorship, unmistakably linked to Copenhagen and its immediate context, and the reason why notabene ended up as a sort of satirical spokesman, one must consider the nature of the relation between Kierkegaard and Heiberg. I. Kierkegaard and Heiberg during his student days, Kierkegaard had looked up to Heiberg.4 at least it could be said that their relation was cordial. the former published several articles in Heiberg’s journal Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post, and it was quite clear that he tried hard to accommodate himself in the cultural circle of the poet. The favor and influence of Heiberg was something that could not be taken lightly by a young man with literary pretensions such as Kierkegaard. Later on, he attempted to publish his review From the Papers of One Still Living in Heiberg’s philosophical journal Perseus, but it was rejected, apparently on account of stylistic reasons. but in spite of this snub, the enthusiasm of young Kierkegaard for Heiberg did not wane. even in Prefaces, in a time when the rift between the two figures was beyond reconciliation, Kierkegaard recalled through nicolaus notabene the admiration of those days: When he [Heiberg] began such a publication [Perseus], he could depend upon his own power and confidently assume that contributors would flock around him, since any older person would perceive that it was an enterprise that had a worthy and imperative claim on his active assistance, and any younger person would feel flattered by the mere thought of the literary prestige of having the honor of being a contributor to Prof. Heiberg’s journal, which no younger person understands better than i, who still am often reminded of how at the time the youthful mind felt intoxicated by daring to believe that a contribution would not be rejected, of how no young cadet could look up more enthusiastically to the famous general under whose banner he is to fight than I did to the unforgettable editor of Flyveposten.5

in any case, it seems that Heiberg did not fail to appreciate the uncommon talent of his brilliant follower. but it was not enough. the relation changed abruptly after the publication of Either/Or in 1843. barely one week had passed after the appearance of Kierkegaard’s book, when, on march 1, Heiberg published a brief review in his journal Intelligensblade,6 in which he made some mocking and dismissive comments about the recently published work. in the review, Heiberg referred to Either/Or as a “monster of a book,” and suggested that it should be exhibited for money on account of its enormous size.7 Describing a fictional reader to whom he simply refers as “one,” a gesture that Kierkegaard would not forget, Heiberg made some harsh For a broader account of the relation between Heiberg and Kierkegaard, see Jon stewart, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, Cambridge and new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 115–31; pp. 232–7; pp. 421–4. 5 SKS 4, 508–9 / P, 47–8. 6 Johan Ludvig Heiberg, “Litterær vintersæd,” Intelligensblade, vol. 2, no. 24, march 1, 1843, pp. 285–92 (ASKB u 56). 7 Cf. ibid., p. 288. 4

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remarks about the reading of the book itself, underscoring its awkwardness and lack of order.8 The excessive flippancy of Heiberg’s tone and the sheer size of Either/Or (a twovolume work with a total of 872 pages), plus the fact that the review was prepared within a period of nine days,9 clearly suggest that Heiberg did not take the trouble of reading the book in its entirety, a reviewing malpractice that Kierkegaard would also remember sourly, especially in Preface ii, where nicolaus notabene has a reviewer come up with a review a fortnight after the publication of a book (a book that, of course, the reviewer has never read).10 this was too much for Kierkegaard. the response swiftly followed on march 5, with an article published in Fædrelandet called “a word of thanks to Professor Heiberg” and signed by victor eremita, the same pseudonymous editor of Either/ Or.11 in this piece, Kierkegaard would insist sarcastically on the role of Heiberg as “one,” a pun that nicolaus notabene would make his own in Prefaces.12 the rupture had occurred, and from now on the relationship between them went only downhill. the next episode occurred in december 1843, on the occasion of the appearance of Heiberg’s annual, Urania.13 in the second article of the book, a piece called “the astronomical year,” Heiberg discussed the repetitions in nature, but also happened to mention and comment in passing on another work by Kierkegaard, Repetition.14 overall, Heiberg’s few words on the book were not nearly as aggressive as those used in the review of Either/Or, but Kierkegaard would no longer tolerate Heiberg’s uncalled-for remarks. He sketched two articles in response to Heiberg, the “open Letter to Professor Heiberg” and “a Little Contribution,” both signed by the author of Repetition, Constantin Constantius.15 although neither of these articles was published, part of this material ended up in Prefaces. From this, it seems that Nicolaus Notabene was specifically created in order to compile and give unity to the polemical repertoire against Heiberg that Kierkegaard accumulated during this period. II. Nomen Nescio as often occurred with the other pseudonyms in Kierkegaard’s corpus, the name of nicolaus notabene was not chosen without a reason. we must bear in mind that Kierkegaard wanted to create a figure that would possess the features needed to Cf. ibid., p. 289. Either/Or was published on February 20, 1843; “Literary winter Crops” appeared on march 1. 10 Cf. SKS 4, 480–1 / P, 16–17. 11 see note 2 above. 12 Cf. SKS 4, 486 / P, 23. 13 Johan Ludvig Heiberg, Urania. Aarbog for 1844, Copenhagen: H.i. bing & söns Forlag 1843 (ASKB u 57). 14 Cf. Heiberg, “det astronomiske aar,” Urania, pp. 77–160. (reprinted in Heiberg’s Prosaiske Skrifter, vols. 1–11, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1861–62, vol. 9, pp. 51–130.) 15 see note 3 above. 8 9

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satirize a person like Heiberg. both victor eremita and Constantin Constantius had ironical power, like most Kierkegaardian pseudonyms, but they were designed for other purposes. thus, the name “nicolaus notabene” was probably tailored as an ironical counterpart to Heiberg. the surname of the pseudonym comes from the Latin nota bene, which is also a common expression in the danish language used to make critical remarks, and it literally means “note well.” this alone could be a response to the offhanded and facile reading that Heiberg made of Kierkegaard’s books. in Preface ii, notabene describes the vicious circle between reader and reviewer: it is linked together in the following way. that friend out in the country has not read the book but received a letter from a man in the capital who has not read the book either but read the review that in turn was written by a man who had not read the book but heard what that trustworthy man said who had paged through it a little at reitzel’s. Summa summarum, it is not at all inconceivable that a book could appear, create a sensation, and occasion a review that was read, whereas the book might just as well have not been written or at best have been as briefly composed as that first courier’s announcement. if only the chatter can be set in motion, then all is well.16

Kierkegaard made his point. it should also be observed that the initials of the name, “n.n.,” probably correspond to the Latin phrase nomen nescio, which can be translated as “i do not know the name,” and is frequently used as a sort of anonym. in this particular sense, the expression n.n. appears twice in Prefaces, in Preface vii17 and Preface viii.18 in this last passage, where notabene talks about his project of publishing a philosophical journal, he writes: “the prospects [of publishing the journal], then, are not the best; my position in no way advantageous. I am not Prof. Heiberg. indeed, not being Prof. Heiberg, i am even less than that, i am only n.n.”19 in the original draft, “mag. Kierkegaard” appeared instead of n.n.,20 and so it is likely that Kierkegaard wanted to mark the ironical contrast between the popular and flashy personality of Heiberg, whose own philosophical journal Perseus was nevertheless a failure,21 and his own supposed unworthiness and anonymity. in this sense, who best to satirize the lofty Heiberg than the unknown, unpublished, and unphilosophical nicolaus notabene? III. Nicolaus Notabene in Kierkegaard’s Corpus ultimately, nicolaus notabene would only appear as the author of one work, Prefaces. as for the rest of the published works, he was mentioned twice in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, first in the appendix entitled “A Glance at a SKS 4, 480–1 / P, 16–7. Cf. SKS 4, 497 / P, 35: “n.n. praktisirender Arzt.” 18 Cf. SKS 4, 509 / P, 48. 19 ibid. 20 Cf. Pap. v b 96:18 / P, supplement, p. 120. 21 only two issues of Perseus were published, number 1 in June 1837 and number 2 in august 1838. 16 17

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Contemporary effort in danish Literature,”22 and then in the last section of the book, “a First and Last explanation,” where Kierkegaard acknowledges the authorship of all the pseudonymous books.23 other than this, however, Kierkegaard considered Notabene for some other unfinished projects. His first appearance occurs in the draft of a work that was never further developed and is simply called “idea.” the text goes as follows: “idea: recollections of my Life by nebuchadnezzar, Formerly emperor, recently an ox. Published by nicolaus notabene.”24 notabene also appeared in the aforementioned “new year’s gift,” a work “published for the benefit of the orphanages” and “dedicated to every purchaser of this book.”25 as it turned out, the main body of this draft would later become Preface i of Prefaces.26 the intended preface of “new year’s gift” was purportedly written by a certain inter et inter, another pseudonym that Kierkegaard would later use for “the Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an actress” of 1848,27 and it depicts a father advising his son on the best way to publish a book. His foremost recommendation is regarding the time of the year in which a work should appear, that is, new year’s day. Considered within its immediate context, this was a satirical critique of the danish custom of publishing new year’s annuals, adorned and elaborated books that were intended to become Christmas gifts for the reading public; in a more specific manner, it was also a lampoon on Heiberg’s annual journal, the luxurious Urania, where, as said, the author made some critical remarks on Kierkegaard’s Repetition.28 afterwards Kierkegaard also thought of using nicolaus notabene as the pseudonym for yet another polemical piece in the same spirit as Prefaces, the unpublished Writing Sampler. Kierkegaard wrote in his Journal JJ: “N.B. i must once again put out a little polemical piece like the Prefaces by nicolaus notabene. i am thinking it could be done under the title: models, or samples of various Kinds of writing. the particular types will be parodied. this is so the irony will also appear to better advantage.”29 He added “n.b” on the margin of the entry, which might be a sign of his intention to use nicolaus notabene as the pseudonymous author for the piece. Kierkegaard also conceived for this purpose some other pompous names such as willibald, alexander, alexius, theodor, Holger rosenpind or rosenblad, Prospective author, apprentice author,30 and a.b.C.d.e.F. rosenblad,31 before finally settling for A.B.C.D.E.F. Godthaab.32 the satire contained in this text went far beyond the figure of Heiberg, and maybe that is why Kierkegaard gave up the

Cf. SKS 7, 245 / CUP1, 270. Cf. SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. 24 SKS 18, 182, JJ:126 / KJN 2, 168. 25 Pap. iv b 126; P, supplement, p. 101. 26 Pap. iv b 127; P, supplement, pp. 101–2. 27 Cf. SKS 14, 107 / C, 325. 28 see note 14 above. 29 SKS 18, 231–2, JJ:289 / KJN 2, 212. 30 Cf. Pap. iv b 194; P, supplement, p. 127. 31 Cf. Pap. vii–2 b 272; P, supplement, p. 128. 32 In the final draft, Kierkegaard changed Rosenblad to Godthaab. Cf. Pap. vii–2 b 274:22, p. 335 / P, 90. 22 23

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idea of including nicolaus notabene, who was now linked to the polemic with the former editor of Flyveposten. Finally, nicolaus notabene appeared as the author of an entry in Journal JJ called “a Possible Last word to all the Pseudonymous writings.”33 this passage made its way, in a reworked form, into the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, in the episode where Johannes Climacus explains how he became an author.34 in a way, the overlapping of these two pseudonymous figures is not completely surprising since nicolaus notabene also represented, as we will see, the desire to become a writer. IV. Nicolaus Notabene in Prefaces Nevertheless, the most important source for understanding the figure of Nicolaus notabene is Prefaces, particularly the general preface to the work. Here we find a recently wedded notabene, blissful in his marital happiness, “happily married as only few are and also thankful for my happiness as perhaps only few are.”35 He has, however, run into some difficulties of which he was not the least aware, in spite of his somewhat naïve claim of having understood the “pattern of marital life.”36 as he tells the reader, he had always nourished the desire of becoming an author, a whim that only recently reawakened in him.37 His wife was of a different mind though. shortly after having started his literary venture, mrs. notabene began to behave mysteriously. When he finally confessed his intention to become a writer, she immediately declared herself against the project with such passion, that “she intended to confiscate everything I wrote, in order to use it in a better way as the underlayment of her embroidery, for curlers, etc.”38 a despairing notabene thought that the whole thing was over, acknowledging his incapability to argue with his wife: “because even if i can debate with the devil himself, i cannot debate with my wife.”39 to every argument of his, she always had a ready and incontrovertible answer: “it is only teasing.”40 such was the state of things when notabene came up with the idea of reading to his wife some of the few lines he had written, thinking that perhaps in this way he could win her to his cause. she accepted the proposal and everything seemed to be going according to plan, but when notabene was reading his manuscript to her, she managed to put a lit candle under the paper. “The fire won out; there was nothing to save; my introductory paragraph went up in flames, amid general rejoicing, since my wife rejoiced for both of us.”41 Her claim was that to be an author is the worst kind of unfaithfulness, because a husband is to be absolutely devoted to his wife, not to his 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

SKS 18, 259–60, JJ:363 / KJN 2, 239. Cf. SKS 7, 170ff. / CUP1, 185ff. SKS 4, 470 / P, 6. ibid. ibid. SKS 4, 471 / P, 7. ibid. SKS 4, 472 / P, 8. ibid.

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writings; indeed, “a married man who is an author is not much better than a married man who goes to his club every evening, yes, even worse, because the one who goes to his club must himself still admit that it is an infraction, but to be an author is a distinguished unfaithfulness that cannot evoke regret even though the consequences are worse.”42 notabene understood that there was nothing to be done about this. He abandoned his original plans but nevertheless received permission from his wife to write only prefaces without the books.43 He did so now with a clear conscience, although just in case he wrote his prefaces without his wife’s knowledge,44 and this is the fictitious origin of Prefaces. In this introductory preface we can observe some traits in the figure of Nicolaus notabene, two of them being probably the most important ones. Firstly, his role as a recently married, happy but henpecked husband. it was not uncommon for Kierkegaard to fictionalize about married life, as we can see in works like Either/ Or with Judge william and later in Stages on Life’s Way with the married man and his reflections on marriage.45 in this case, however, notabene confronts his conjugal bliss with his vocation for writing, a dilemma that Kierkegaard himself might have experienced. this leads us to the second main feature of notabene: his unstoppable resolution of becoming a writer. while he readily admits that his wife is everything to him, that he lives and dies, stands and falls, with her,46 he is also strongly aware that “it would be an irretrievable loss to humanity”47 if he could not publish his writings. and even if he apparently bends to his wife’s will in the end, he still manages to keep on writing, if only by means of a technicality and limiting himself to prefaces. Nicolaus Notabene is not yet a fulfilled writer; he is the potential writer, an apprentice of a writer, and an obstinate one at that. if we consider this, it makes sense that Kierkegaard thought of notabene for a piece like Writing Sampler,48 the pseudonymous author of which is also a novice writer trying to get published, or for the aforementioned entry that ended up in the Postscript49 and that describes how he (first Nicolaus Notabene, then Johannes Climacus) had the “calling” of being an author. as noted, several of the texts of Prefaces were already written before the book as a whole was conceived. Consequently, it was not easy to keep the consistency between the nature and tone of the eight separate prefaces and the personality of notabene as described in the introductory preface. indeed, the image of notabene as a married man is completely gone, and his wife is never mentioned again in the rest of the book. even so, Kierkegaard was able to preserve the other facet of his pseudonym, SKS 4, 473 / P, 9. Cf. SKS 4, 475–6 / P, 12. 44 Cf. SKS 4, 476 / P, 12. 45 as a matter of fact, a deleted passage of the introductory preface of Prefaces ended up in the chapter “Some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections” of Stages on Life’s Way. Cf. Pap. v b 76; cf. SKS 6, 87 / SLW, 89. 46 Cf. SKS 4, 471 / P, 7. 47 ibid. 48 see note 29 above. 49 see note 33 above. 42 43

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notabene as the potential writer, and added another one that is practically present in all the prefaces, namely, notabene as a satirist. this is rather noticeable in Preface i, which, as mentioned, was originally in the draft of “new year’s gift.” gone is that other pseudonym, Inter et Inter, and we find instead an irreverent and ironical notabene who throws jab after jab to Heiberg. after alluding to the importance of choosing the exact time for the publication of a work50 and the necessity for a writer to satisfy the demand of the times,51 notabene concludes this brief preface with an overt reference to Heiberg: “therefore, i vow: as soon as possible to realize a plan envisaged for thirty years, to publish a logical system, as soon as possible to fulfill my promise, made ten years ago, of an esthetic system; furthermore, i promise an ethical and dogmatic system, and finally the system.”52 these three observations by notabene are purely satirical. Kierkegaard probably felt honest contempt for the danish habit of publishing new year annuals just out of commercial interest, but it is beyond doubt that the main target here was Heiberg. the first comment on the importance of the publication date is a reference to Heiberg’s own “new year’s gift,” Urania, but also to another piece by Heiberg, the review entitled “Literary winter Crops,” where the author suggests that the survival of a work depends on the time at which it is published.53 we must remember that in this same review Heiberg made some not very favorable observations on Kierkegaard’s recently published Either/Or, and this was one of the main causes of Kierkegaard’s falling out with Heiberg. the passage concerning the “demand of the times” is a not so veiled reference to another work by Heiberg, On the Significance of Philosophy for the Present Age, where, as the title suggests, the author claims that what the age demands is precisely a philosophical approach to culture.54 Finally, the remark about the ridiculously postponed promise of a system is also an almost literal reference to the announcement made by Heiberg himself of his intention of writing a system of logic, which would in turn clear the way for the esthetics that he had wished to write for such a long time.55 the tone of the remaining prefaces is not much different. Preface ii speaks of the irresponsibility and shallowness of book reviewers. Preface iii returns to the topic of the new year’s gift,56 and Preface iv makes reference once again to that fateful review, “the Literary winter Crops,” where Heiberg mocks Either/Or while simply referring to himself as “one.”57 in this preface, notabene asks to himself: “what, i wonder, will ‘one’ say about this book now? my dear reader, if you are not able to find out in any other way, then our literary telegraph manager, Prof. Heiberg, Cf. SKS 4, 477 / P, 13. Cf. SKS 4, 477–8 / P, 13–14. 52 SKS 4, 478 / P, 14. 53 Cf. Heiberg, “Litterær vintersæd,” pp. 285–6. 54 Cf. Johan Ludvig Heiberg, Om Philosophiens Betydning for den nuværende Tid, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1833 (ASKB 568), p. 29. 55 Cf. Johan Ludvig Heiberg, “det logiske system,” Perseus, Journal for den speculative Idee, no. 2, 1838, p. 3 (ASKB 569). (reprinted in Heiberg’s Prosaiske Skrifter, vol. 2, p. 115.) 56 Cf. SKS 4, 485 / P, 22. 57 Cf. Heiberg, “Litterær vintersæd,” p. 291. 50 51

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will probably be kind enough to be a tax collector again and tally the votes, just as he once did in connection with Either/Or, and report it in Intelligensblade.”58 Preface v is probably the only one that is not directly or indirectly concerned with the figure of Heiberg. Nevertheless, it is not less satirical for this reason. In this piece, notabene impersonates a spokesman of the recently founded society for total abstinence (Total Afholdenheds Selskab).59 After stressing the infinite significance of being a member of this association, notabene interrupts the preface because he is too intoxicated with enthusiasm to continue writing.60 nicolaus notabene assumes the role of a systematic theologian in Preface vi, which is purportedly the preface to a collection of twenty-four sermons intended for the cultured reading public. this devotional work, claims notabene, “proceeds from the totality and toward it,”61 unlike that other edifying piece, bishop mynster’s Sermons, which lacks the systematic view that the cultured public is so avid for, and instead “makes it almost impossible for the reader to escape the thought that what he is reading pertains to himself.”62 regarding this systematic tendency, notabene admits his debt to Heiberg: “the cultured person thus seeks the congregation, to call to mind a word of the poet to whom the present devotional work is so very much indebted and whom i do myself the honor of naming as the authority and as the chosen bard of the cultured, the pondering Professor Heiberg.”63 in this way, notabene satirizes Heiberg’s division between the cultured and the uncultured,64 while paying indirect homage to Mynster’s work of edification.65 in Preface vii, originally intended to be the preface for The Concept of Anxiety,66 notabene makes fun of the lack of originality and self-aggrandizement of danish Hegelians (including Heiberg) who read ten works and out of them write an eleventh book, which in turn acquires absolute importance in virtue of “mediation.”67 Just in passing, notabene grasps the opportunity to mock again Heiberg’s unfulfilled promise of a system.68 SKS 4, 486–7 / P, 23–4. in reality the Maadeholds Forening (Abstinence Association); this society was founded in Copenhagen on october 8, 1843. 60 Cf. SKS 4, 489–92 / P, 27–30. 61 SKS 4, 494 / P, 32. 62 ibid. 63 SKS 4, 495 / P, 33. 64 Heiberg indeed made such division in his work On the Significance of Philosophy for the Present Age, where he draws a line between the poets and philosophers, the “educators of humanity,” and the uncultured masses. Cf. Heiberg, Om Philosophiens Betydning for den nuværende Tid, p. 14. 65 Jakob Peter mynster, Prædikener paa alle Søn- og Hellig-Dage i Aaret, vols. 1–2, Copenhagen: gyldendalske boghandlings Forlag 1823. Prædikener, vols. 1–2, Copenhagen: den gyldendalske boghandlings Forlag 1826–32 (ASKB 228). Prædikener paa alle Søn- og Hellig-Dage i Aaret, vols. 1–2, Copenhagen: den gyldendalske boghandlings Forlag 1837 (ASKB 229–230). 66 in the draft of The Concept of Anxiety, Kierkegaard writes: “n. b. this is not to be used, because it would distract from the subject. therefore i have written a little preface to be printed in the book” (Pap. v b 71 / P, supplement, p. 118). see also note 1 above. 67 Cf. SKS 4, 497–8 / P, 35–6. 68 Cf. SKS 4, 500–1 / P, 39. 58 59

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Preface viii, the longest of the prefaces, reveals the intention of nicolaus notabene of publishing a philosophical journal called Philosophical Deliberations.69 the allusion and comparison to Heiberg’s journal is obvious, as notabene himself makes a direct reference to the unsuccessful Perseus at the beginning of the preface.70 the difference between these two publications is that while Heiberg intended to instruct the reading public in philosophy, the sarcastic notabene aims at the more humble goal of being instructed by the public: “my scholarly expectation is that i may be overcome, may win by losing, or to express myself in another way that tallies exactly with my feelings, that good people may succeed in enabling me to make out philosophy.”71 overall, nicolaus notabene offers the picture of a novice writer who is being pummelled by a corrupted, arrogant, and ridiculous publishing culture, represented of course by Heiberg, while trying to publish a book. From the examples above, and as has been suggested, it is clear that ever since the drafting of the original “new year’s gift,” Kierkegaard had chosen nicolaus notabene as the vehicle of his satirical attack on Heiberg and the different cultural phenomena Kierkegaard thought he represented. to sum up, notabene is a critic of the contemporary publishing tradition, of the shallowness in the reviewing of books, and of the so called “cultured public” with its systematic tendency. V. Nicolaus Notabene as Seen by his Contemporaries as noted, Prefaces was probably the most polemical work in Kierkegaard’s authorship and nicolaus notabene the most polemical of his pseudonyms, at least in a satirical way. satire is indeed the common element within the mixed dish that is Prefaces. and it was satire at its best. one of the few reviews written about the book, published by Peder Ludvig møller (1814–65), who would later become Kierkegaard’s enemy, praised Prefaces and its author to the skies: what i most admire among the various aspects of this author is his brilliant wit and the genuine humor whereby he uses everyday trivialities as the basis for the most exalted thoughts. to this sphere belongs the polemic against Heiberg in Prefaces, which is not only some of the wittiest but unconditionally the most elegant of what has been written against Heiberg; yes, indeed, except for Lehmann’s article on the Houguemont farm and a Corsair piece about Lehmann, i do not remember any polemical writing in danish as excellent.72

these lines appeared in an article entitled “a visit to sorø,” which was also a general review of Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous works, particularly Stages on Life’s Way. in spite of all the praise, Kierkegaard thought the article was shallow and distasteful, and he expressed his discontent in a piece published in Fædrelandet Cf. SKS 4, 525 / P, 65. Cf. SKS 4, 508 / P, 46. 71 SKS 4, 515 / P, 55. 72 Peder Ludvig møller, “et besøg i sorø,” Gæa, æsthetisk Aarbog, Copenhagen, 1846 (actually published on december 22, 1845); COR, supplement, p. 99. 69 70

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called “the activity of a traveling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner,”73 an article that eventually brought disastrous consequences to its author, since it ignited the confrontation between Kierkegaard and the satirical journal the Corsair. Kierkegaard was doubtless a writer hard to please. However, møller was not the only one to hold this opinion about Prefaces. another reviewer, who signed himself as “3–7,” extolled this work for its “excellent and penetrating language, which disdains to use these expressions of philosophical bombast, disdains to lard its speech with Hegelian terminology,” adding that Notabene is not a “sullen polemicist who is dissatisfied with everything,” but had on the contrary the “lightness with which language practically dances when subjected to his dialectical treatment.”74 thus, we can see that notabene’s satirical efforts did not go unnoticed, and it is only fair to assume that almost everyone was aware that the target of the attack was Heiberg. unlike other pseudonyms in the Kierkegaardian corpus, who were eventually recognized for their philosophical or esthetic insights, nicolaus notabene, as we have seen, was inextricably bound to the local and somehow private polemic with Johan Ludvig Heiberg. nevertheless, this is not to say that this personage lacks in importance. on the contrary, he represents the unmistakable talent of Kierkegaard as a satirist and is a good starting point to introduce the reader to this often ignored facet of the Kierkegaardian authorship.

“en omreisende Æsthetikers virksomhed, og hvorledes han dog kom til at betale gjæstebudet,” Fædrelandet, no. 2078, december 27, 1845. SKS 14, 79–84 / COR, 38–46. 74 Quoted from Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 285. the original review appeared under the heading “theater, music, Literature and art” in Ny Portfeuille, ed. by georg Carstensen and Jørgen Christian scythe, vol. 2, no. 13, Copenhagen, June 30, 1844, columns 305–12. 73

bibliography Bravo Jordán, Nassim, “Las Paradojas Comunicativas de Prefacios,” in Kierkegaard y la comunicación, ed. by Diego Giordano and José García Martín, Naples: orthotes 2011, pp. 71–84. Crites, stephen, “the unfathomable stupidity of nicolaus notabene,” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 29–40. Ferguson, Harvie, “before the beginning. Kierkegaard’s Literary Hysteria,” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 41–66. garff, Joakim, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, pp. 281–6. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge and new york: Cambridge university Press 2001, pp. 244–57. Kjældgaard, Lasse Horne, “the age of miscellaneous announcements: Paratextualism in Kierkegaard’s Prefaces and Contemporary Literary Culture,” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 7–28. Kondrup, Johnny and Kim ravn, “tekstredegørelse” to Forord, in SKS, K4, section 3, “tilblivelseshistorie,” Copenhagen: gad Publishers 1997ff., pp. 542–64. Perkins, robert L., “reading Kierkegaard’s Prefaces with ‘Continual reference to socrates,’ ” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 111–38. Peterson, mark C., “ringing doorbells: eleventh books and authentic authorship in Preface vii,” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 87–110. Pyper, Hugh s., “Promising nothing: Kierkegaard and stanislaw Lem on Prefacing the unwritten,” in Prefaces, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2006 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 9), pp. 67–86. sohl Jessen, mads, Tyvesprogets mester, Kierkegaards skjulte satire over Heiberg i gjentagelsen. Ph.d. dissertation, university of Copenhagen, 2010. stewart, Jon, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, Cambridge and new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 419–47. thulstrup, niels, Kierkegaard’s Relation to Hegel, trans. by georg L. stengren, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1980, pp. 365–9.

the one still Living: Life-view, nihilism, and religious experience matthew brake

while not a part of his proper authorship, From the Papers of One Still Living represents one of søren Kierkegaard’s earliest attempts at publishing.1 in this work, the “one still Living” critiques the novel Only a Fiddler by the danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. In what follows, we will briefly examine Kierkegaard’s use of the pseudonym “one still Living.” second, we will look at the relationship between the two authors in question, Kierkegaard and andersen, and their interactions prior to Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous review of Andersen’s work. Third, I will define the idea of a life-view and its importance in Kierkegaard’s critique of andersen’s work as well as explaining the nihilistic mentality Kierkegaard was seeking to refute. Finally, I wish to consider what role and influence, if any, Kierkegaard’s May 19, 1838 spiritual experience may have had upon his review of andersen’s novel and his emphasis upon a life-view. I. The One Still Living there is no consensus about the meaning of “one still Living.” some scholars have attempted to understand this pseudonym biographically, relating it to the deaths of either Kierkegaard’s father or Poul martin møller.2 regarding Kierkegaard’s father, “one still Living” could be a reference to “the ominous belief in the Kierkegaard household that the father would outlive all of his children”;3 however, this view is not without its problems, one of which is chronological. as alastair Hannay explains, From the Papers of One Still Living was “[w]ritten prior to his father’s death, the work of course does not derive its title from that event.”4 while the title may have

1

p. 11.

m. Jamie Ferreira, Kierkegaard, malden, massachusetts: wiley-blackwell 2009,

Joseph westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), p. 48. 3 ibid., p. 48. 4 alastair Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, new york: Cambridge university Press 2001, p. 119. 2

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seemed “peculiarly apt,” there is reason to doubt that it issues from the death of the elder Kierkegaard.5 george Pattison notes that “the title [From the Papers of One Still Living]…may well contain an allusion to møller’s death.”6 Kierkegaard had grieved for his “teacher and friend” who had died on march 13, 1838.7 it is possible that Kierkegaard saw himself as somehow “building on Poul møller’s” work.8 this makes sense when one considers that “Kierkegaard had seen himself as møller’s literary or philosophical heir or both.”9 there also exists the possibility that “one still Living” serves the literary purpose of “sympathetically [identifying] Kierkegaard with Andersen.”10 as we shall discuss later, andersen as an author fails to die to his immediate circumstances. Kierkegaard’s criticism lays in his critique that andersen lacks a life-view, which would allow andersen to transcend his moods and circumstances, for one must die to one’s immediate moods and circumstances in order to obtain a resurrected, immortal life-view.11 Joseph Westfall writes, “[I]n calling himself ‘still living,’ Kierkegaard admits he suffers the same failure as a writer”;12 however, unlike andersen, the “one still Living” remains anonymous because he realizes what he lacks. the anonymous one seeks to distance himself from his work in an effort to begin to attain a lifeview that transcends himself.13 by using this pseudonym, “Kierkegaard has in mind a contrast between the culturally dead and those still able to project, even if they cannot yet fully inhabit, a life-view.”14 II. Kierkegaard and Andersen: Uneasy Acquaintances For two men who lived “within 500 meters of each other,”15 one would think that the interaction between these two authors would have been extensive; however, there is little evidence to suggest that the two men interacted often despite such proximity.16 ibid. george Pattison, Kierkegaard: The Aesthetic and the Religious, new york: st. martin’s Press 1992, p. 126. 7 david Cain, “Kierkegaard’s anticipation of authorship: ‘where shall i Find a Foothold?’ ” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 1), p. 135. 8 richard summers, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, p. 56. 9 Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 119. 10 westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author, p. 49. 11 ibid., pp. 49–51. 12 ibid., p. 49. 13 ibid., pp. 49–53. 14 Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 120. 15 Lone Koldtoft, “Hans Christian andersen: andersen was Just an excuse,” in Kierkegaard and His Danish Contemporaries, tome iii, Literature, Drama and Aesthetics, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2009 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 7), p. 1. 16 ibid., p. 9. 5 6

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some of their goals did intersect. For instance, both men sought recognition in the coveted Heiberg social circle.17 some even see Kierkegaard’s review of andersen’s book as an attempt by Kierkegaard to get his foot in the door with the Heibergs.18 the most relevant documented face-to-face interaction between them was an encounter on the streets one day in Copenhagen. Kierkegaard told andersen that he was in the process of writing a review of Only a Fiddler.19 initially, andersen walked away from that encounter with the impression that Kierkegaard’s review would be positive;20 however, he remained (rightfully so!) nervous about what Kierkegaard would say.21 Kierkegaard, for his part, believed that andersen had misunderstood him.22 when Kierkegaard’s review came out, it was far from positive.23 Kierkegaard not only attacked andersen’s novel but andersen’s personality as well.24 He accuses andersen of a “lack of detachment” and an attitude of discontentedness toward life.25 This discontentedness from the “unresolved tensions of his own life overflow into his work.”26 Andersen himself is so overwhelmed from reflecting on the forces of “blind fate” or “evil in the world (i.e. the actual world)”27 that he “submerges his characters.”28 as richard summers observes, “instead of providing an aesthetically autonomous treatment of reality, andersen’s novels give only his own reality volatilized into fiction.”29 andersen, for his part, seems to admit as much in his autobiography, The Fairy Tale of My Life. when he wrote Only a Fiddler, andersen admits that his novel “sprung out of the terrible struggle that went on in me between my poet nature and my hard surroundings.”30 andersen acknowledges that he “was ready to give up expecting to receive any kind of true recognition of that which god had bestowed on [him]” and hoped that “[i]n another world this might be cleared up.”31 andersen sylvia walsh, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, p. 24. 18 Koldtoft, “Hans Christian andersen: andersen was Just an excuse,” pp. 24–5. 19 ibid., p. 9. 20 ibid., pp. 16–17. 21 Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 102. 22 ibid. 23 bruce Kirmmse, “a rose with thorns: Hans Christian andersen’s relation to Kierkegaard,” Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, pp. 71–2. 24 william mcdonald, “Kierkegaard and romanticism,” The Oxford Handbook of Kierkegaard, ed. by John Lippitt and george Pattison, oxford: oxford university Press 2013, p. 98. 25 summers, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” p. 47. 26 ibid. 27 SKS 1, 30 / EPW, 75. 28 summers, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” p. 47. 29 ibid. 30 Hans Christian andersen, The Fairy Tale of My Life: An Autobiography, new york: First Cooper Press 2000 (reprint of the original english edition, London: Paddington Press 1871), p. 136. 31 ibid. 17

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thus describes Only a Fiddler as “struggle and suffering.”32 within its pages, the characters vent andersen’s own “opposition…against injustice, folly, and the stupidity and hardness of the public.”33 andersen’s autobiography plays down Kierkegaard’s review of Only a Fiddler as a seemingly inconsequential occurrence, merely noting that his review suffered from “Hegelian heaviness”;34 however, bruce Kirmmse gives reasons to doubt that andersen was not affected by Kierkegaard’s review. Kirmmse notes: [I]t would not have been to his advantage for him to portray himself as having been seriously wounded by another writer who was already widely recognized as one of denmark’s greatest authors, and andersen could quite logically have wished to avoid giving the appearance of hypersensitivity or of bearing a grudge.35

indeed, andersen produced a play, An Open-Air Comedy with the subtitle, “an actor against His will.” this was an obvious jab at Kierkegaard, who was depicted in the play as a hairdresser babbling “unintelligible Hegelian verbiage.”36 in doing this, andersen was making fun of “Kierkegaard’s distinctive hairstyle” and Kierkegaard’s tendency, “in Andersen’s eyes, [to babble] as much nonsense as a hairdresser.”37 Kierkegaard, offended, drafted a reply, but he came to believe that “the article was an exercise in futility: andersen was unlikely to be drawn into debate and Kierkegaard would expose himself to even more opportunity for ridicule.”38 despite this episode, relations seem to have improved between them enough in later years that andersen sent Kierkegaard a copy of the 1845–48 two-volume edition of his fairy tales.39 III. Nihilism and the Life-View Kierkegaard’s main critique of andersen’s writing is that he “totally lacks a lifeview.”40 Kierkegaard describes a life-view as follows: For a life-view is more than a quintessence or a sum of propositions maintained in its abstract neutrality; it is more than experience…which as such is always fragmentary. it is, namely, the transubstantiation of experience; it is an unshakable certainty in oneself won from all experience…whether this has oriented itself only in all worldly relationships (a purely human standpoint, stoicism, for example), by which means it keeps itself from contact with a deeper experience—or whether in its heavenward direction (the religious) it has found therein the center as much for its heavenly as its earthly existence, has won 32 33 34 35

p. 72.

ibid. ibid. ibid., p. 137. Kirmmse, “a rose with thorns: Hans Christian andersen’s relation to Kierkegaard,”

Koldtoft, “Hans Christian andersen: andersen was Just an excuse,” p. 25. ibid. 38 ibid., pp. 25–6. 39 Jørgen bukdahl, Søren Kierkegaard and the Common Man, trans. and ed. by bruce H. Kirmmse, grand rapids: eerdmans 2001, p. 88. 40 SKS 1, 32 / EPW, 76. 36 37

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the true Christian conviction “that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor the present, not the future, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creation will be able to separate us from the love of god in Christ Jesus our Lord.41

such a life-view, as walsh states, “provides a comprehensive center of orientation that enables one to take a firm, positive stance toward life, with a sense of self-confidence in meeting the challenges of life rather than being overcome by them.”42 a life-view keeps a novel “from being arbitrary or purposeless, since the purpose is immanently present everywhere in the work of art.”43 as george Pattison describes it: The life-view is described as, firstly, optimistic, not in the world-historical sense but in the more everyday sense that it is always ready to see a hopeful aspect in events and circumstances at the individual, personal level; it is, secondly, positive in its attitude to people, being ready to see a “divine spark” glowing under the most trivial forms of personal life; it is, thirdly, acquainted with sorrows and disappointments to which all flesh is heir but none the less retains its essential optimism, which is thus tempered and mellowed by experience. in short it expresses “the joy which has triumphed over the world”; it is the outlook of “the individual who has run the race and kept the faith.”44

a life-view should will thus “transcend the vicissitudes of life,” and according to Kierkegaard, this life-view should be evident in an author’s work.45 in Only a Fiddler, however, one does not find such an overcoming lifeview. Instead, one finds a protagonist who ends up succumbing to negative life circumstances.46 as Joseph westfall explains, “Christian, the hero of Only a Fiddler, is a musical genius who never receives the support and acknowledgment requisite for bringing his genius to fruition. the genius succumbs to circumstance, becoming nothing more than a poor fiddler.”47 it may very well have been possible to write a novel with a life-view in which the hero still failed;48 however, Kierkegaard sees Christian’s failure to be the result of andersen’s personal “dissatisfaction with the world” as opposed to a stable life-view.49 andersen’s dissatisfaction can be located within the second phase of danish romanticism.50 Whereas the first phase was best represented by the writings of Adam Oehlenschläger and “had been characterized by a spirit of life-affirmation and optimism,”51 the second phase was characterized by “themes of disappointment, SKS 1, 32 / EPW, 76–7. walsh, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, p. 37. 43 SKS 1, 36 / EPW, 81. 44 george Pattison, “nihilism and the novel: Kierkegaard’s Literary reviews,” British Journal of Aesthetics, vol. 26, no. 2, 1986, pp. 164–5. 45 walsh, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, p. 40. 46 SKS 1, 43 / EPW, 88. 47 westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author, pp. 36–7. 48 ibid., p. 37. 49 SKS 1, 45 / EPW, 89. 50 summers, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” pp. 56–7. 51 ibid., p. 56. 41 42

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frustration and despair.”52 the age was characterized by an agonized romantic protest against “a human condition which is experienced as both politically and metaphysically unjust.”53 Kierkegaard saw this movement culminating in philosophical nihilism.54 andersen thus writes within the overall nihilistic malaise of the culture of the time.55 to be sure, Kierkegaard considers andersen a victim of nihilism although he does contribute to the sickness of the present age by “producing literature devoid of a…life-view.”56 in Only a Fiddler, one finds a nihilistic naturalism wherein a person’s success is purely based on biological and social circumstances.57 it demonstrates “[t]he same joyless battle Andersen fights in life,”58 and it shows “the consequences of nihilism, of the doom…working itself out on contemporary danish culture.”59 it is worth noting that Kierkegaard himself was no stranger to nihilism. He had his own nihilistic phase,60 yet two years before his review of Only a Fiddler, Kierkegaard had expressed a desire in his journals to find an idea for which he could live and die.61 His critique of andersen’s lack of a life-view seems to “recall his own desire.”62 Like walter Lowrie, i believe that Kierkegaard’s mystical experience on May 19, 1838 helped him to find his own life-view,63 and i believe that experience serves as an implicit backdrop to Kierkegaard’s critique of andersen. IV. Kierkegaard and Religious Experience i wish to argue that Kierkegaard’s spiritual experience of joy recorded in his journals on may 19, 1838, gave him added impetus for critiquing andersen’s lack of a lifeview. this assertion becomes more worthy of consideration when one considers that this entry was written during or shortly before the time he was writing his review of andersen’s novel,64 although we are unsure if it occurred before or after Kierkegaard’s run-in with andersen on the streets of Copenhagen.65 the entry is as follows: ibid., pp. 56–7. george Pattison, “ ‘Cosmopolitan Faces’: the Presence of the wandering Jew in From the Papers of One Still Living,” Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, p. 114. 54 ibid., p. 121. 55 george Pattison, Kierkegaard, Religion, and the Nineteenth-Century Crisis of Culture, new york: Cambridge university Press 2002, pp. 80–1. 56 Pattison, “the Presence of the wandering Jew,” p. 126. 57 Koldtoft, “Hans Christian andersen: andersen was Just an excuse,” p. 19. 58 SKS 1, 31 / EPW, 75. 59 Pattison, Kierkegaard, Religion, and the Nineteenth-Century Crisis of Culture, p. 92. 60 ibid., p. 80. 61 SKS 17, 24, aa:12 / JP 5, 5100. 62 murray rae, Kierkegaard and Theology, new york: t&t Clark international 2010, p. 24. 63 walter Lowrie, A Short Life of Kierkegaard, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1942, p. 124. 64 Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 101. 65 ibid., p. 113. 52 53

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there is an indescribable joy that glows all through us just as inexplicably as the apostle’s exclamation breaks forth for no apparent reason: “rejoice, and again i say, rejoice.”— not a joy over this or that, but the soul’s full outcry “with tongue and mouth and from the bottom of the heart”: “i rejoice with my joy, by, in, with, about, over, for, and with my joy”—a heavenly refrain which, as it were, suddenly interrupts our other singing, a joy which cools and refreshes like a breath of air, a breeze from the trade winds which blow across the plains of mamre to the everlasting mansions.66

such an experience may very well have given Kierkegaard a heightened sense of spiritual clarity and mission. Richard Summers seems to confirm this interpretation of Kierkegaard’s experience of joy. He notes that as early as 1837, Kierkegaard was coming to grips with the actuality of human life. in the transition from the stage of irony to the stage of humor, one is able to find “acceptance of the way things are.”67 regarding this stage, Summers explains, “Its hallmark is an affirmation of the finite, an embracing of everyday reality in all its particularity and limitations.”68 summers states that this attitude “borders on the religious” and believes that it may have been confirmed for Kierkegaard by his religious experience.69 this developing attitude in Kierkegaard certainly contrasts with andersen’s worldly dissatisfaction. another reason to suspect a connection between Kierkegaard’s religious experience and his critique of andersen relates back to Kierkegaard’s and andersen’s public feud. on may 19, 1838, andersen published The Galoshes of Fortune.70 in this fairy tale, andersen portrays Kierkegaard as a parrot, leading some scholars to believe that From the Papers of One Still Living was written as an act of revenge against andersen;71 however, other scholars disagree with this interpretation.72 i would suggest that Kierkegaard’s religious experience, taking place on the same date that The Galoshes of Fortune was published, not only confirmed Kierkegaard’s developing view of actuality, but also i believe it may have served as a form of spiritual encouragement in the face of andersen’s lampoon, and it may have served in Kierkegaard’s mind as a confirmation of his endeavor to review Only a Fiddler and criticize andersen’s lack of a life-view. alastair Hannay seems to consider this connection between Kierkegaard’s experience of joy and the publishing of From the Papers of One Still Living. while SKS 17, 254–5, dd:113 / JP 5, 5324. summers, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” p. 58. 68 ibid. 69 ibid. 70 ibid., p. 51. 71 ibid. 72 ibid. richard summers notes that Frithiof brandt in his work, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard (Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, pp. 125–53), maintains that From the Papers of One Still Living was an act of revenge against andersen. georg brandes (in his Samlede Skrifter, vols. 1–18, Copenhagen: gyldendal 1899–1910, vol. 2, p. 273), by contrast, holds that Kierkegaard was mainly concerned with andersen’s treatment of genius in Only a Fiddler. 66 67

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considering the possibility of such a thing, he ultimately seems to dismiss this idea.73 He states, “[S]ince the experience was no more than an experience, and appears not have been revelatory of any ‘key’ to the organization of things, it was inevitably short-lived. Certainly there is no indication that the mood persisted.”74 this view seems to downplay the role and effect emotional religious experiences can have in the life of the religious individual. such experiences should be considered to be more than simply “mood.” I find Julia Watkin’s view more likely that From the Papers of One Still Living should be set, at least in part, against the backdrop of Kierkegaard’s experience of joy.75 V. Conclusion Kierkegaard and andersen were never close; however, Kierkegaard felt the need to critique andersen’s novel, Only a Fiddler, in his work From the Papers of One Still Living. in Only a Fiddler, Kierkegaard critiques andersen for lacking a life-view. this critique was a part of Kierkegaard’s larger critique against a growing nihilism in danish culture, which grew out of his own religious experiences and convictions.

73 74 75

Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, pp. 112–13. ibid., p. 113. Julia watkin, “Historical introduction,” EPW, p. xxiv.

bibliography Bøggild, Jacob, “Reflections of Kierkegaard in the Tales of Hans Christian andersen,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2006, pp. 68–82. Fenves, Peter d., “Chatter”: Language and History in Kierkegaard, stanford: stanford university Press 1993, pp. 29–63. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, new york: Cambridge university Press 2001, pp. 101–26. Kirmmse, bruce, “a rose with thorns: Hans Christian andersen’s relation to Kierkegaard,” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, mercer university Press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 1), pp. 69–85; see pp. 71–5; pp. 77–9; p. 83; p. 85. — “ ‘sympathetic ink’—the sniveler and the snail: andersen and Kierkegaard in golden age denmark,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2006, pp. 8–21. Koldtoft, Lone, “Hans Christian andersen: andersen was Just an excuse,” in Kierkegaard and His Danish Contempories, tome iii, Literature, Drama and Aesthetics, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2009 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 7) pp. 1–27; see pp. 1–2; pp. 9–11; pp. 13–25. mylius, Johan de, “offenbare und unsichtbare schrift in sören Kierkegaards ‘aus eines noch Lebenden Papieren,’ ” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2006, pp. 22–37. ong, yi-Ping, “a view of Life: nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and the novel,” Philosophy and Literature, vol. 33, no. 1, 2009, pp. 167–83. Pattison, george, “nihilism and the novel: Kierkegaard’s Literary reviews,” British Journal of Aesthetics, vol. 26, no. 2, 1986, pp. 161–71. — “ ‘Cosmopolitan Faces’: the Presence of the wandering Jew in From the Papers of One Still Living,” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, mercer university Press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 1), pp. 109–30; see p. 109; p. 115; pp. 120–1; pp. 123–8. — Kierkegaard, Religion, and the Nineteenth-Century Crisis of Culture, new york: Cambridge university Press 2002, see pp. 73–4; p. 76; pp. 79–81; p. 86; pp. 89–92; p. 94. rumble, vanessa, “eternity Lies beneath: autonomy and Finitude in Kierkegaard’s early writings,” Journal of the History of Philosophy, vol. 35, no. 1, 1997, pp. 83–103. stewart, Jon, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york: Cambridge university Press 2003, see pp. 115–31. summers, richard, “aesthetics, ethics, and reality: a study of From the Papers of One Still Living,” in Early Polemical Writings, ed. by robert Perkins, macon,

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georgia: mercer university Press 1999 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 1), pp. 45–68; see pp. 45–57; pp. 63–7. walsh, sylvia, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, see pp. 23–41; p. 44; pp. 58–9; p. 122; p. 124; p. 164; pp. 185–6; p. 189; pp. 203–4. westfall, Joseph, “ ‘a very Poetic Person in a Poem’: søren Kierkegaard on Hans Christian andersen and becoming an author,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2006, pp. 38–53. — The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), see pp. 24–5; pp. 27–8; pp. 31–74; pp. 108–11.

Petrus minor: A Lowly and Insignificant Ministering Critic thomas J. millay

although he is mentioned precious few times in søren Kierkegaard’s writings, a fair amount concerning the pseudonym Petrus minor can in fact be gleaned from The Book on Adler. the most frequent appellation for Petrus minor contained therein is that he is a “critic.”1 He is further specified as a “lowly ministering critic,”2 as “the ministering critic, the faithful lover,”3 as “the insignificant ministering critic,”4 and as “a contemporary ministering critic, an insignificant person.”5 As a lowly, insignificant critic, Petrus Minor is writing “a review.”6 in a work that deals with the lofty concepts of authority and revelation, as The Book on Adler SKS 15, 104 / BA, 18; SKS 15, 105 / BA, 20; SKS 15, 107–8 / BA, 22; SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25; SKS 15, 112 / BA, 26; Pap. viii–2 b 13, 62 / BA, 31; Pap. viii–2 b 12, 58 / BA, 169. note that the critical text of Bogen om Adler presented in Søren Kierkegaards Skrifter volume 15 is an attempt to reconstruct the initial fair copy of the work (“Teksten, der bringes i sKs 15, er et forsøg på at rekonstruere den oprindelige renskrift,” SKS K15, 153)—namely, what the Hongs call “integral version i” of The Book on Adler (“Historical introduction,” xviii; this text in general corresponds to Pap. vii–2 b 235, pp. 5–230, but with some revisions: cf. SKS K15, 153). in their translation, on the other hand, Howard v. and edna H. Hong rely on the third version of the text (the last integral version Kierkegaard produced), while also incorporating revisions from the fourth and fifth versions (see BA, “Historical introduction,” xvii–xviii). the Hongs’ reasoning in this choice is not clear, though it seems to have to do with the manner in which the third version of the text—when compared with the first and second versions, which are translated in the supplemental material in the Hongs’ volume (BA, supplement, 215–311, passim)—offers a unique opportunity to see Kierkegaard’s mind at work as he edits and revises a text (cf. “Historical introduction,” xvii). my choice to follow the Hongs in referring primarily to the third version of The Book on Adler is directly related to the purposes of this article. the name “Petrus minor” was added only to versions of The Book on Adler subsequent to the initial fair copy (see below, especially note 33). since the pseudonym “Petrus minor” is a later addition, i will throughout this article rely on the third version of The Book on Adler, the version that corresponds to the pseudonym in question, using the text as recorded in Pap. viii–2 b 1–27 and translated by Hong and Hong (though i use the critical SKS text whenever possible: in these passages, the initial fair copy and the third integral version of the text are identical). 2 SKS 15, 104 / BA, 18; Pap. viii–2 b 12, 58 / BA, 169. 3 SKS 15, 105 / BA, 20. 4 SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25. 5 ibid. 6 SKS 15, 105 / BA, 20. 1

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does,7 this is an important statement. by it, Petrus minor intends to signify that, although he is interested in deciding the question of whether a particular revelation is authoritative, he is not a critic of that revelation. Petrus minor has no interest in whether the revelation itself is heretical or not,8 and, as a lowly critic who has no authority,9 he cannot have such an interest. rather, in his critical review, Petrus minor is armed only with an ethical authority10 and a clear idea of what the category revelation is,11 with its qualitative dialectical difference from all things merely human, temporal, and immediate.12 with these two critical weapons, Petrus minor aims his sights on his danish contemporary adolph Peter adler—that is, not on the words of the revelation that adler claimed to receive, but on adler himself and his faithfulness (or lack thereof) to the category of revelation. Presumably related to this critical function is Petrus minor’s admission that his position, insofar as it does not immediately grant adler’s claim to a revelation-fact, is a skeptical one.13 as a critic, then, Petrus minor wears two different but related hats: (1) he is a dialectician who clarifies concepts,14 and (2) he is an ethical judge15 who investigates

7 BA, “Historical introduction,” vii: “The Book on Adler is ostensibly about adolph Peter adler; essentially it is about the concept of authority.” 8 SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25–6: “nor is there to be mention of what he teaches, whether it is heretical or not; all such things must be regarded as unimportant compared with what is qualitatively decisive.” see also Pap. viii–2 b 13, 63 / BA, 32; SKS 15, 172 / BA, 117. 9 SKS 15, 112 / BA, 27. 10 SKS 15, 111 / BA, 26. 11 see Kierkegaard’s editorial preface to the text, SKS 15, 112 / BA, 26: “such things a critic must hold firm, as I shall now do in this little book, not for the sake of confusion, but in order, if possible, to throw light on some religious categories and to give a little orientation in the age.” see also Pap. viii–2 b 27, 75–78 / BA, 3–5, and SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25. 12 Pap. viii–2 7:7, 27–7:10, 31, including Pap. viii–2 9:8, 48 and 9:9, 49 / BA, 85–7; cf. SKS 15, 275 / BA, 120; SKS 11, 95–111 / BA, 173–88. 13 Pap. viii–2 b 7:5, 21–2 / BA, 51: “by his statement about himself, he is for the time being placed higher than every other human being, who, if he is to relate himself to him, either must submit, believing, to his divine authority, or must with skeptical reserve refrain from every affirmation and every negation. The present inquiry takes the latter, the skeptical position.” even if Petrus minor’s argument does not critique from outside the text, and proceeds entirely e concessis, there is a delay necessarily involved in following and evaluating the premises of the author that speaks to the critic’s “skeptical reserve” (ibid.): he does not give himself over to immediate obedience. 14 SKS 15, 203 / BA, 79. at the end of a section that makes a distinction between the extraordinary teacher who brings salvation to others, and the ordinary teacher who receives salvation like everyone else, Petrus Minor states: “I think I have defined the difference” (SKS 15, 190 / BA, 67). This same activity—defining of difference—is present in Addendum II, “The difference between the genius and the apostle” (SKS 11, 95–111 / BA, 173–88), and throughout the text. Petrus minor makes it very clear that his qualitative dialectic is very different from Hegel’s dialectic, which confuses concepts rather than clarifying them (SKS 15, 267–84 / BA, 111–32). 15 SKS 15, 105 / BA, 20; SKS 15, 111–12 / BA, 25–6; SKS 15, 126 / BA, 150.

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the case16 concerning whether the defendant has been faithful (over time) to the strict difference between concepts that his critical acumen has clarified. Both of these aspects of the character of Petrus minor are drawn together in his decisive condemnation of adler. insisting that “the qualitative dialectic is to be respected with ethical earnestness,”17 Petrus minor submits the following charge: adler, “lacking education in Christian concepts, lacking moral respect for qualitative definitions of concepts, is to such a degree not master of himself and his thoughts that he can even bona fide be blasphemous.”18 true to his spirit as a “lowly ministering critic,” Petrus minor has reached this bold condemnation of adler by means of an argument that proceeds entirely e concessis;19 that is to say, rather than any external criticism that would presume an authority of some kind or another,20 Petrus minor’s critical activity proceeds strictly from the premises that adler himself proposes. Petrus minor conceives his task as an investigation of the coherence of what adler has claimed in his various literary works.21 in the genre of a literary review,22 Petrus minor compares adler’s claim in the preface to his 1843 volume of Sermons—namely, to have received a command from the “Savior” to “get up and go in and write down these words”23—to his later volatilizing explanation of this revelation in his reply to dean steenberg and his address to bishop mynster,24 and also to his later absentminded writing of four books that fail to mention this revelation at all.25 what primarily characterizes adler is confusion26 and absentmindedness,27 which Petrus minor corrects via clarity and earnestness. all of this critical activity occurs entirely within the world that adler himself created through his literary works. the “lowly” and “ministering” aspects of Petrus minor, then, coincide with his placing himself in the service of adler’s

Petrus minor calls it an “inquiry” (Pap. viii–2 b 7:5, 22 / BA, 51) and the legal setting is most evident here, at the beginning of Chapter iii. 17 SKS 15, 126 / BA, 150. 18 Pap. viii–2 b 7:11, 32 / BA, 89. 19 Pap. viii–2 b 7:5, 22 / BA, 51; SKS 15, 174 / BA, 53; SKS 15, 179 / BA, 56; SKS 15, 198 / BA, 75; SKS 15, 244 / BA, 88; SKS 15, 276 / BA, 121. 20 Petrus minor is one “who does not dare to appeal to any revelation but who on the other hand can hold the called one to the word and thereby contribute to making manifest what earnestness truly is” (SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25). 21 Pap. viii-2 b 7:7, 25 / BA, 83. 22 SKS 15, 105 / BA, 20. 23 From adolph Peter adler, Nogle Prædikener, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1843, p. 3. Quoted from BA, supplement, 339. 24 From adolph Peter adler, Skrivelser min Suspension og Entledigelse vedkommende, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1845, pp. 17–24. see BA, supplement, 344–8; cf. Petrus minor’s discussion in SKS 15, 173–204 / BA, 52–80. 25 namely, adler’s Studier og Exempler, Forsøg til en kort systematisk Fremstilling af Christendommen i dens Logik, Theologiske Studier, and Nogle Digte, all analyzed by Petrus minor in Pap. viii–2 b 7:7, 22–7:10 31 / BA, 80–7. 26 SKS 15, 267–84 / BA, 111–32. 27 Pap. viii–2 b 9:9, 49 / BA, 87. 16

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works.28 His intention is not to be a creative author, nor an esthetic critic,29 but only to “throw light upon the confusion in the use of the concept of revelation”30 in a work that is not at all his own. in sum, Petrus minor is a critic who possesses no authority of his own, but who does possess dialectical clarity about the concept of revelation, and uses this clarity to measure Adler’s claim to have had a revelation-fact. Petrus Minor finds Adler wanting,31 and his existence as a critic is clearly delineated and fully fleshed out by and in this critical task.32 this, then, is the pseudonymous character Petrus minor, author of The Book on Adler. Or so it seems. There are in fact a number of significant reasons to doubt everything that has so far been attributed to the character of Petrus minor. on its way to a publication that never actually occurred, The Book on Adler was attributed to several different authors.33 originally conceived as a literary review written in Kierkegaard’s own name,34 the text was then ascribed to Johannes Climacus.35 deciding this to be unsuitable, Kierkegaard considered in his journals a host of names ending in “minor”: Petrus minor, thomas minor, vincentius minor, and ataraxius minor.36 Petrus minor was then bolded and given a manuscript page of his own.37 Finally, the one part of The Book on Adler that was published—namely, addendum ii, “the difference between a genius and an apostle”—was attributed to a completely different pseudonym, H.H.38 in sum, the attribution of The Book on SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25: adler’s “writings are to be used only in order to see whether he understands himself in being what he has passed himself off to be.” 29 SKS 15, 106 / BA, 21; SKS 15, 111 / BA, 25. 30 SKS 15, 272 / BA, 117. 31 see especially “Conclusions,” Pap. viii–2 7:7, 24–7:10, 31 / BA, 82–7, and SKS 15, 276 / BA, 121, where he summarizes: “ergo, we conclude that he has had no revelation.” 32 Cf. Pap. viii–2 b 27, 78 / BA, 6, where it appears that Petrus minor has his life in this book. 33 the account here follows that of Hong and Hong, “Historical introduction,” BA, xii–xvi. Cf. Carl s. Hughes, “the Constructive value of The Book on Adler for Christian theology in an age of religious Pluralism,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), p. 194n 2. although the journal entry assigning the pseudonym “Petrus minor” to the text has no date (Pap. viii–2 b 24 / BA, 224), its rejection of Johannes Climacus must come after Pap. viii–2 b 22 / BA, 223, which describes itself as written at a later date than the original manuscript. 34 see the manuscript facsimile at BA, 192. as the Hongs note, this is in accord with Kierkegaard’s plan to write no more after the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, yet “with the possible exception of writing only reviews” (BA, xii; cf. SKS 18, 279, JJ:419 / JP 5, 5877). 35 see the manuscript facsimile at BA, 196. 36 Pap. viii–2 b 24 / BA, 224. 37 see the manuscript facsimile at BA, 198. 38 see the “Historical introduction,” BA, xvi; cf. the manuscript facsimile at WA, 205. this small published excerpt from The Book on Adler was significantly edited, a process Hong and Hong summarize succinctly: “in this essay the issue, the concept of authority, remained, stripped of the elements clustered around the original occasion of the writing: magister adler” (BA, xvi). 28

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Adler to Petrus Minor has no definitive status; in fact, his name does not even appear in the critical edition of the text published in Søren Kierkegaards Skrifter.39 Still—despite these significant reasons to doubt the applicability of the pseudonym Petrus minor to The Book on Adler—there are reasons why the name is a fitting one. Paul J. Griffiths has made the intriguing suggestion that “Petrus” is intended to refer to Peter the apostle, who as an apostle of the Lord had the authority of a revelation.40 this may be extended further: there is something decidedly “Petrine” about The Book on Adler, since it is open to the possibility of continuing revelation,41 just as the Catholic church which Peter founded also purports to be.42 in concert with this proposal, the name “minor” could refer to the fact that Petrus minor—although interested in the questions of apostolicity, authority, and the continuing possibility of revelation—does not himself have authority.43 “Petrus,” then, because he is concerned with authority; “minor” because he does not have it. this possibility helps to explain the one journal entry that gives any real information about Petrus minor. in describing his decision not to use Johannes Climacus as the pseudonym, Kierkegaard writes the following: it would perhaps be most correct to create a new pseudonym instead of Johannes Climacus, since he is already marked as the one who has said he is not a Christian. e.g. Petrus Minor. thomas minor vincentius minor ataraxius minor.44

Kierkegaard writes that he cannot use Johannes Climacus as the work’s pseudonym because he has already said that he is not a Christian. this would seem to imply (though one cannot be absolutely sure) that whoever the author of The Book on Alder is, that author should be explicitly Christian. there is no passage in The Book on Adler that discusses the author’s Christian identity, but one can speculate that, concerned as it is with the issue of authority, The Book on Adler is intended to be an intra-Christian dialogue. rather than focusing on becoming a Christian, as does Johannes Climacus, The Book on Adler is generated out of the question of whether we the audience, as Christians, must obey the divine revelation that adolph Peter adler claimed to have had. the issue is an intra-Christian one because Christians are, by the very nature of their commitment, bound in obedience to any genuinely divine revelation that Petrus minor is mentioned in three places in the critical commentary on the text (SKS K15, 137, 138, 163), the first two noting the places he appears in the manuscripts (4.14, 4.18), but he is nowhere to be found in the critical edition of the text itself. 40 Paul J. Griffiths, “Kierkegaard on Apostolic Authority,” unpublished manuscript (delivered november 2, 2013 in waco, texas, at the baylor institute for Faith and Learning’s conference “Kierkegaard: a Christian thinker for our time?”), p. 12. 41 see SKS 15, 202 / BA, 78; cf. Griffiths, “Kierkegaard on Apostolic Authority,” p. 9. 42 Griffiths, “Kierkegaard on Apostolic Authority,” p. 12. 43 SKS 15, 112 / BA, 27. 44 Pap. viii–2 b 24 / BA, 224. 39

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occurs. “Petrus minor” would then signify this intra-Christian, essentially ecclesial or Petrine debate. indeed, if the word “ecclesial” seems odd to apply to any writing from the pen of Kierkegaard, it should be remembered that regarding adler, Petrus minor does not in any way depart from the methods or judgment of the established order;45 his inquiry into the issue of whether adler had a revelation is an ecclesial matter conducted with ecclesial methods, proceeding e concessis just as the officials of the danish state Church do46—though, of course, as an insignificant and minor critic, he has no authority to enforce his conclusions.47 therefore, although the name Petrus Minor can in no way be definitively assigned to The Book on Adler, the name is a fitting one for the authorial character we glimpse therein.

SKS 15, 202 / BA, 78; SKS 15, 276 / BA, 121. SKS 15, 202 / BA, 78. 47 thus achieving minority status all over again: he has neither apostolic nor ecclesial authority, neither first nor second order authority. 45 46

bibliography Hughes, Carl s., “the Constructive value of The Book on Adler for Christian theology in an age of religious Pluralism,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press, 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), pp. 193–214. verstrynge, Karl, “ ‘the art in all Communication’: Kierkegaard’s view of ‘essential authorship,’ ‘essential Knowing’ and Hans Christian andersen’s skills as a novelist,” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook, 2006, pp. 54–67. westfall, Joseph, “the death of the apostle: authorial authority in The Book on Adler and roland barthes,” in The Book on Adler, ed. by robert L. Perkins. macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 24), pp. 167–92.

Quidam: earnest for ten minutes a week mariana alessandri

someone must have written the diary that comprises “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty’ ” —a narrative that makes up the third part of the remarkably convoluted volume called Stages on Life’s Way—but neither søren Kierkegaard nor his pseudonym Frater Taciturnus takes credit for writing it—at least at first. In an advertisement that precedes the published diary, taciturnus claims to have accidentally brought up from the depths of søborg Lake a box that contained the diary, the key to the box, and a variety of sentimental items. He now hopes to return the diary to its owner. after presenting the diary, however, taciturnus claims to be the actual author, except that, he explains, it is not a diary at all, but rather a literary enterprise, an “imaginary Psychological Construction” (Psychologisk Experiment).1 Complicating matters further, we know that it is Kierkegaard who names the imaginary constructor Frater Taciturnus (Latin for “silent brother”), and that he, too, fabricated a story about a bookbinder who found the unpublished papers of taciturnus and two other authors (william afham and Judge william) among his own. eventually he claims to have created these authors and their writings and calls the resulting literary enterprise Stages on Life’s Way2 (an even more complicated Psychologisk Experiment!).3 thus, both Kierkegaard and Taciturnus first deny authorship and then accept it. But they do so in critically different ways. whereas taciturnus attempts to explain his text after the fact, Kierkegaard leaves it to the reader to interpret. on this reading, the relationship between taciturnus and Quidam looks like the one between Constantin Constantius and the young man from Repetition, and possibly between Judge william and a in Either/Or. Josiah thompson points out that in all of these cases, one pseudonym pretends to be a different pseudonym, but then either admits it or hints that they might be identical. see Josiah thompson, Kierkegaard, new york: Knopf 1973, pp. 146–7. 2 “guilty?/not guilty?” was not supposed to accompany “in vino veritas” and “some Reflections on Marriage in Response to Objections,” which, together, were to comprise a volume to be called The Wrong and the Right. taciturnus’ piece was tacked on “at the last minute,” as the Hongs point out, and the name of the larger volume was changed to Stages on Life’s Way. the bookbinder—Hilarius bookbinder—was then invented to take credit for “stitching” the books together and publishing it as one work. see SLW, p. viii. 3 Kierkegaard first took credit for his pseudonymous works in “A First and Last explanation” at the end of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript (SKS 7, 569–73 / CUP1, 625–30). in addition, Kierkegaard calls “guilty?/not guilty?” “the richest of all i have written, but it is difficult to understand” (Pap. vii–1 b 84 / JP 5, 5866). 1

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in the long explanation that follows the diary—“Letter to the reader”—taciturnus sets out to explain the text to his reader (note the singular; taciturnus wonders if he has any reader left)4 by psychologically interpreting the diary’s author whom he simply names Quidam (Latin for a masculine “someone”).5 in contrast, Kierkegaard leaves the interpretation up to the reader. In the shortest (and first) explanation of his pseudonymous authorship—“a First and Last explanation”—Kierkegaard claims to be the author of Stages (and many other books and authors), but adds that “in the pseudonymous books there is not a single word by me. i have no opinion about them except as a third party, no knowledge of their meaning except as a reader, not the remotest private relation to them.”6 Likewise, in the last (and longest) explanation of the pseudonymous authorship—The Point of View for My Work as an Author (written in 1848 and published posthumously in 1859)—Kierkegaard again refers to himself as a reader of his pseudonyms, this time adding that the best reading of his authorship (and presumably, of a text) is not the one that an author provides, but the one that “fits at every point.”7 using Kierkegaard’s hermeneutic, i consider taciturnus’ explanation of Quidam’s diary to be only an interpretation. i consider Quidam to be independent of taciturnus (and taciturnus must too, because he claims that Quidam is higher in existence than he is).8 by giving him the pen, taciturnus (and Kierkegaard at yet another level of remove) effectively became Quidam’s reader, and is, therefore, without authority.9 as a pseudonym of taciturnus (and thus

SKS 6, 446 / SLW, 485: “my dear reader—but to whom am i speaking? Perhaps no one at all is left.” i suspect that taciturnus is working with william afham of “in vino veritas” to keep “inquisitive” readers out of the book. see my reading of afham as a gatekeeper to Stages in “william afham: the Line by which an ape may become an apostle” in this volume. 5 SKS 6, 412 / SLW, 446. in the Samlede Værker, the name “Quidam” appears 25 times; 14 times in taciturnus’ “Letter to the reader,” six times in the Postscript (in “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature”), once in “a First and Last explanation,” once in the notes to the Postscript, and three times in newspaper articles. “Quidam” shows up ten times in the journals and papers. 6 SKS 7, 570 / CUP1, 625–6. 7 SKS 16, 19 / PV, 33. in On My Work as an Author (written in 1849, published in 1851), Kierkegaard again uses the same word: “i regard myself rather as a reader of the books, not as the author” (SKS 13, 19 / PV, 12). despite calling himself a reader in these later works, Kierkegaard compromised his 1846 position as a reader by explaining that his authorial mission was religious from the start. i discuss the complicated relationship between Kierkegaard the reader and Kierkegaard the author in my concluding remarks. 8 Johannes Climacus reminds us that taciturnus distances himself from Quidam by “[defining] himself as lower in existence than Quidam’s existence” even though “ordinarily one…supposes that the imaginative constructor, the observer, is higher or stands higher than what he produces” (SKS 7, 265 / CUP1, 291). 9 Quidam was twice made author (though not once officially). An early draft of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” indicates that Quidam was to be the author and taciturnus the editor, but the latter was promoted to author at the last minute, leaving the former to take the role of pseudonym (once removed) (Pap. v b 142 / SLW, supplement, p. 565). 4

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a pseudonym of a pseudonym of Kierkegaard), Quidam is as distinct from taciturnus as taciturnus is from Kierkegaard.10 there is just one more thing.11 scholars have spilled a great deal of ink in their efforts to paint the diarist as a thinly veiled historical Kierkegaard. many of their accounts are compelling and supported by Kierkegaard’s own diary, which includes his breakup letter to regine that the diarist in Stages recycles verbatim for his breakup with the young girl without her ever discovering the plagiarism.12 similarly, the six inserts or short passages in Stages that relieve the reader from the diary’s daily dealings are each dated the fifth of the month, which seems significant in light of the fact that Kierkegaard’s birthday is may 5. thus the inserts have been interpreted, by Kierkegaard himself as well as his attentive and inquisitive readers, as everything from biographical confessions to literary exorcisms.13 For instance, these dark stories have been interpreted as allusions to Kierkegaard’s troubled relationship with his father, or literary traces of syphilis, whores, drunkenness, rape and murder, guilt, god’s wrath, sibling rivalry, madness, potential offspring, and other (soap-)operatic themes.14 since various attempts to read Kierkegaard into the young diarist have already been made, my objective is to discover the textual diarist, not the biographical one. Henceforth, my goal is to present three different readings

Roger Poole is a fierce advocate of reading the pseudonyms independently of their authors. stephen Crites adds: “not only that declaration but the very device of pseudonymity turns the authorship over to its readers, with no rights reserved. because of this singular donation, the reader cannot solve his problems of interpretation by referring to the intentions of the author.” see roger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, pp. 160–4; stephen Crites, “master of irony Demystified: Josiah Thompson’s ‘Kierkegaard,’ ” Journal of Religion, vol. 55, no. 2, 1975, p. 245. 11 Kierkegaard uses this phrase in The Point of View, and Joakim garff interprets it as Kierkegaard’s inability to explain his point of view as simply as he wants to, which is a shortcoming i share. see Joakim garff, “the eyes of argus: the Point of view and Points of view on Kierkegaard’s work as an author,” in Kierkegaard: A Critical Reader, ed. by Jonathan rée and Jane Chamberlain, oxford: blackwell 1998, p. 83. 12 SKS 22, 216, nb12:122 / JP 6, 6482: “i send her back her ring in a letter, which word for word is printed in the imaginary psychological construction.” see SKS 6, 307 / SLW, 329. 13 garff, for example, believes that although Kierkegaard intended to “reproduce the tragedy of my childhood” in a novella, that “instead, he wrote the six inserted pieces, arranged them within the story of Quidam’s engagement, had Frater taciturnus put his name on the work, sank the whole business to the bottom of Søborg Lake, and finally, had Hilarius bookbinder assume the task of publishing it.” Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 352. 14 a range of biographical interpretations of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’” can be found in the following: walter Lowrie, A Short Life of Kierkegaard, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1965; thompson, Kierkegaard; Henning Fenger, Kierkegaard, the Myths and Their Origins: Studies in the Kierkegaardian Papers and Letters, trans. by G.C. Schoolfield, New Haven, Connecticut: yale university Press 1980; Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, pp. 108–39; alastair Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001; garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, pp. 340–53. 10

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of the diarist, who is neither taciturnus’ “Quidam of the imaginary construction”15 nor the biographical double of Kierkegaard.16 Stages on Life’s Way is a three-part book,17 the first part of which looks like a repetition of Either/Or, with Judge william defending an ethical life over an aesthetic one, and the last part of which superficially looks like “The Seducer’s diary.”18 both diarists become engaged and work their way loose, but only one feels remorse. “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” is a tragic story of heroic but impossible love, but it is not as exciting as the seducer’s diary in Either/Or. if, as i have suggested elsewhere,19 william afham succeeds in his role of gatekeeper for Stages, then he will have weeded out the merely “inquisitive” readers, that is, those who begin “in vino veritas” only to discover the same old characters from Either/Or, and thus promptly toss the book aside. only the “attentive” reader is left, that is, the reader who is capable of experiencing repetition. if such a reader wades through the sea of pseudonyms that make up “in vino veritas,” and dives deeper through the Judge’s “Reflections,” he or she will finally arrive at the indesluttet diarist at the bottom of the indesluttet lake, locked inside his indesluttet box. Kierkegaard translators to use the name “Quidam” is to privilege taciturnus’ interpretation of the diarist. For this reason, i follow in Crites’ footsteps and refer to him as “the diarist.” However, if Josiah thompson is right that the multiple authorship of Stages is a parody on pseudonymity “the essentially duplicitous character of the pseudonyms is then essential to their meaning, and this duplicity is founded on the simple yet all-important fact that in the pseudonyms Kierkegaard is absent,” then Quidam (Someone) is a fitting name for the author of the diary, for he is not any particular person but a persona, and is absent in the same way that Kierkegaard is absent. see stephen Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City, new york: anchor books 1972, p. 222; Josiah thompson, “the master of irony,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, p. 115. 16 taciturnus’ Quidam is a “demoniac character in the direction of the religious.” For this and his entire interpretation of Quidam, see “Letter to the reader,” SKS 6, 369–454 / SLW, 398–494. Climacus’ reading of Quidam’s diary is an interpretation of taciturnus’ reading. it is unsurprising that Climacus hones in on the role of suffering in the diary, given that in the Postscript he claims that (a certain type of) suffering is a necessary part of the religious existence sphere. He says, “the phrase ‘story of suffering,’ therefore, seems to be used pregnantly as a category, as if suffering has a crucial meaning in relation to the religious” (SKS 7, 262 / CUP1, 288). For Climacus’ interpretation of Stages, see SKS 7, 258–73 / CUP1, 284–300; for his explanation of religious suffering, see SKS 7, 392–477 / CUP1, 431–525. Kierkegaard’s interpretation of Quidam is that he is “Constantin Constantius and the young man united” (Pap. vi b 41 / JP 5, 5805). 17 if one considers the “Letter to the reader” to be distinct from the diary, then Stages has four parts instead of three, which throws into question the idea that the book represents Kierkegaard’s three spheres of existence. i discuss this interpretation below. 18 alastair Hannay calls The Wrong and the Right a repetition of Either/Or, and he points out that in danish, the terms “wrong” and “right” in the title connote something less moral and more practical, “as when you wear a sweater inside or ‘right’ side out.” Hannay, Kierkegaard: A Biography, p. 261. 19 see “william afham: the Line by which an ape may become an apostle” in the present volume. 15

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have tried their hand at faithfully translating this term, but each english word is more painful than the last. translations of Indesluttethed like “inclosing reserve,” “inclosed,” “close reserve,” “reserve,” “introversion,” etc., cannot fully convey the inescapability of Indesluttethed; it is like a box locked with the key inside. For this reason, i leave it untranslated.20 that the diary was found lying at the bottom of a lake suggests that the diarist never meant it to be found, but its being a “very carefully and neatly handwritten manuscript on very fine letter paper” suggests that he did.21 Likewise, the confessional nature of the diary gives the impression that it was written for the young diarist himself, but the fact that it is published makes one wonder if it was written with that aim in mind, like so many edited diaries of well-known writers.22 if it was written for himself only, then the diarist looks like a tortured soul whose frantic accumulation of words gets him no closer to absolution or conviction concerning an affair with a young woman; he cannot decide if he was a “faithful lover” or a scoundrel.” if it was meant to be read by others, then we potentially have an author trying to communicate something to someone—either his lover or his readers. on its surface, “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” is simply the diary of a botched engagement, but underneath one can find a telling commentary on the tangled relationships between deception and forgiveness, writing and meaning, and readers and authors. on all three of my readings, the diary hinges on deception; the diarist’s deception of others and himself. The first reading, which I call the “lover-deceiver” reading, is the most straightforward of the three. I. The Lover-Deceiver Reading The diarist begins his entries on January 3, exactly one year after he first saw the young woman who would eventually kneel before him begging him to stay, and ends them seven months later, exactly one year after ending their engagement. at present, the young woman seems to be recovering as the diarist’s suffering seems to be intensifying. He lives a strangely divided life: for roughly half of the year, he literarily relives each day of the engagement in the morning, and reflects on it at midnight, trying to decide if he has been a “faithful lover” or a “rogue.” more simply put, he spends his mornings recollecting and his nights reflecting. For the other half of the year, the diarist most likely reads his diary over again. From his diary, we can also hazard a guess that he means to repeat the “half-year of unrest” followed by the SKS 6, 177 / SLW, 189. For a good commentary on this danish term, see ettore rocca, “søren Kierkegaard and silence,” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon daniel marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, pp. 78–9. 21 SKS, 6, 177 / SLW, 189. 22 see, for example, the diaries of Henry david thoreau, william James (and Kierkegaard himself). Henry david thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau, ed. by bradford torrey and Francis H. allen, salt Lake City: Peregrine smith books 1984; william James and maria Helena Pereira toledo machado, Brazil through the Eyes of William James: Letters, Diaries, and Drawings, 1865–1866, Cambridge, massachussets: Harvard university Press 2006. 20

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half year of the “hibernation period” every year, in order to fulfill his prediction that “the cycle of pain will come to me again and again.”23 in sum, for half of each day and for half of each year the young diarist tries to produce meaning out of the past, and for the other half, he “withdraws” into his shell to contend with his anguish. with the young woman, he perishes; without her, he perishes; thus the epigraph to the diary is Periissem nisi periissem (i would have perished, had i not perished).24 instead of dying once and for all, the poor diarist drags his suffering around with him for life, like a mussel with a sliver stuck inside: so it is with a mussel that lies on the seashore; it opens its shell searching for food; a child sticks a twig in between so that it cannot close up. Finally the child gets tired of it and wants to pull out the twig, but a sliver remains. and the mussel closes up, but deep inside it suffers again and cannot get the sliver out. no one can see that there is a sliver, for of course the mussel has closed up, but that it is there the mussel knows.25

Passages like this suggest that no one knows of the diarist’s pain, though we might agree that he should not marry the girl, since he is convinced that he would not be able to make her happy. His depression would guarantee her sorrow, and his Indesluttethed would ensure a “misalliance” for her “effervescence.”26 Perhaps the most compelling reason he gives himself is that his religious leanings leave no room for marriage, and so he chose god over the girl.27 on this reading the diary is tragic; its tale of unhappy love invites sympathy for its author instead of the contempt that the “seducer’s diary” might elicit.28 the poor diarist paints himself as a man trapped inside his own Indesluttethed, but with a

SKS 6, 366 / SLW, 395. the diarist goes as far as to call his exercise an embrace of the young woman: “recollection in the morning hours and the rescue attempt do, after all, constitute a kind of embrace in which she is inclosed” (SKS 6, 246 / SLW, 263). 24 SKS 6, 182 / SLW, 194. 25 SKS 6, 360 / SLW, 388. 26 SKS 6, 296 / SLW, 319. 27 many commentators focus on the religious and the demonic aspects of the diarist, and i suspect it is because that is taciturnus’ focus in the “Letter to the reader.” see, for example, vincent mcCarthy, “morning and melancholia in “Quidam’s diary,’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 149–72; Grethe Kjӕr, “The Concept of Fate in Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 245–60; John J. Davenport, “The Ethical and Religious Significance of Taciturnus’s Letter in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 213–44; robert J. widenmann, “the Concept of stages,” in Some of Kierkegaard’s Main Categories, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen C.A. Reitzel 1988 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 16), pp. 131–2. 28 at least Kierkegaard believes that it would produce contempt in the diarist: “the Seducer’s egotism culminates in the lines to himself: “She is mine; I do not confide this to the stars…not even to Cordelia, but say it very softly to myself” (SKS 2, 412 / EO1, 424). Quidam culminates passionately in the outburst: “the whole thing looks like a tale of seduction” (Pap. viii b 83 / JP 5, 5865). what is a triumph to one is an ethical horror to the other. 23

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love that persists. if we read the text straightforwardly, the one thing that cannot be doubted is that he loved the girl. Like the mussel with the sliver stuck inside, the diarist cannot move on: “Forget her? It is impossible. My edifice has collapsed.”29 thus he will neither love nor marry anyone else.30 on this reading the diary is a diary in the true sense, and we have no real business encountering it; it serves as a powerful expression of the solitary suffering that the diarist must undergo for the rest of his life, just like the mussel with the sliver stuck inside. so far, the diarist’s story is not particularly unique. it is the way that he chose to end the relationship for which he now mourns that makes the diary strange. after having decided that he could not marry her, the diarist decided that the best way to “rescue” her would be by deceiving her. in this way he could protect her from himself, from the suffering he would inevitably cause, were they to marry. the plan was to deceive her into freedom, which, for the diarist was the only way to ensure that she could ever love and marry someone else.31 after concluding that the stubborn young woman would not allow him to set her free earnestly, he took a different route. Mixing a casual “how” with a serious “what,” the diarist first suggested that they break up in april: “as i parted from her, having said good-bye and already gone halfway through the door, i suddenly turned around and said to her: oh, by the way, you know what—shouldn’t we break up? thereupon i swung around and waved good-bye.”32 “by the way” is no way to introduce something serious. a week later, he compounded the confusion by referring to the previous incident by jesting about it: “but i am only afraid that she is taking the whole affair too hard. to ignore it altogether in forgetfulness could result in her being secretly pained, and if i refer to it she is immediately agitated, although i do it as kindly and as jestingly as possible; is that perhaps the reason for it?”33 in what looks like an attempt at utter straightforwardness, the diarist next sent a letter to the girl, telling her that he would like to end the relationship because he considered himself “incapable of making a girl happy.”34 but instead of accepting his request, she left a note in his apartment “composed in passionate despair—she cannot live without me, it will be the death

SKS 6, 325 / SLW, 350. Climacus predicts that “assistant professors” will superficially conclude that Quidam is “inwardness”: “Am Ende [In the end], it may not be inconceivable that an assistant professor would go so far in courtesy that he en passant [in passing] in a clause, in a note to a paragraph in the system, would say of the author: He represents inwardness. then the author and an ignorant reading public would have come to know everything” (SKS 7, 273 / CUP1, 299). Kierkegaard chimes in here: “so also with inwardness. to say he represents it is to make a fool of oneself and the one under review, for loquere ut videam [speak, so that I may see] applies here, and i have to have an idea of how he represents it” (Pap. vi b 53:16 / JP 2, 2115). 31 SKS 6, 296 / SLW, 318. 32 SKS 6, 275 / SLW, 296. 33 SKS 6, 287 / SLW, 309. 34 SKS 6, 307 / SLW, 330. 29 30

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of her if i leave her.” He writes that he took the words very seriously, but did not let on.35 after this exchange, the diarist realized that he could not communicate with the young woman straightforwardly, so he set forth to deceive her: “what i shall venture to do now is to pull myself away from her, if possible, scramble her image of me into sheer inanity and utterly confound her.”36 because his direct tactic failed, the diarist sought to set the girl free using indirection, oscillating between jest and earnestness. However, there was much more of the former than the latter, which only accounted for ten minutes out of the week: “For only ten minutes i was earnest today. i intend to act that way once a week. i calmly said to her: ‘end it, break up; in the long run you will not resist me.’ But then her passion flares up most violently; she declares that she would rather have all this than not to see me.”37 the majority of the time, then, the diarist admits to having been engaged in deception—for the girl’s own good. the diarist believed that if he made the young woman blame him for the broken engagement, then both her heart and her reputation would remain intact; she would hate him instead of loving him. He reasoned as follows: “First and foremost, my exit as a scoundrel will make a substantial change, since it will set her into a quite different kind of pathological motion; it will stir up her wrath, bitterness and defiance towards me, and her pride in particular will quicken her to go to extremes to keep herself afloat.”38 to safeguard her heart, the diarist believed that he must convince the young woman to hate him. He describes the final act of this process, which occurred one year previous, as follows: i went away. at noon i came back. an absolute resolve makes one calm; a resolution that has gone through the dialectic of the terrible makes one unterrified. Coldly and definitely I announced that it was over. She was about to abandon herself to the most violent expressions of passion, but for the first time in my life I spoke imperatively. it is terrible to have to hazard this, and yet it was the only thing to do. if she had come close to death before my eyes, i would not have been able to change my resolve. my inflexibility helped her, and what was the most rash undertaking went off in an orderly way. one more attempt to arouse my sympathy had no effect. Finally she begged me to think of her sometimes, and this was promised in a casual tone—perhaps she did not mean much by it, but on the other hand i meant it in all earnestness.39

by invoking the “dialectic of the terrible,” speaking imperatively, and being “inflexible,” the diarist claims to have finally freed the woman from him and his depression. in the end, the young woman was deceived: “Her idea of me was that i had more worldly tastes, that i wanted my freedom because the relationship became SKS 6, 307 / SLW, 330. the diarist spends much of the diary thinking of himself as a murderer (even though he wonders if she said it somewhat flippantly), and he explains why he took her words so seriously: “i have believed her because she stood in an ethical relationship to me; therefore it was my duty to believe. on my own initiative i have given her words the weight of eternity for me because i respected the relationship” (SKS 6, 341 / SLW, 367). 36 SKS 6, 309 / SLW, 332. 37 SKS 6, 325 / SLW, 349. 38 SKS 6, 250 / SLW, 268. 39 SKS 6, 366 / SLW, 395. 35

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too confining for me.”40 though she was resistant to the diarist’s attempts to end the relationship, she became weary over the course of two months of increasing deception on the part of the diarist, enabling the diarist to slip out of the engagement with much confusion but little protest. the engagement is broken and so is the man. the last part of the “lover-deceiver” reading points out that, though he may have deceived the woman, the diarist has not deceived himself. He knows that becoming a deceiver made it impossible for the woman to forgive him, or for any reunion to take place. to understand the diarist’s logic we must consider the possibility of forgiveness. suppose the diary was written for the young woman. after all, a diary would be an excellent way to communicate eternal love to a woman, since diaries supposedly contain one’s most intimate thoughts. if it were written for her, the diary would threaten to operate as a backdoor that might allow the young woman to be reunited with the diarist. if she found it, she would realize that the diarist loved her all along, and that his ruse was, finally, just a ruse for her benefit. In time, perhaps, she could learn to forgive the diarist for his attempt to rescue her from his Indesluttethed. after all, we understand the story: here is a man who got engaged without realizing that his religious inclinations coupled with his “quiet despair” effectively made marriage impossible for him. He needed to free himself from the relationship while doing as little damage as possible to the girl he loved, so his “rescue attempt” consisted of deceiving her into thinking he does not love her. His goal was to make her nauseous of him and of the whole affair, which he could only accomplish by destroying his image in front of her and all of Copenhagen (“all sympathy for me must be wiped out”).41 Perhaps the young woman could also forgive him, in time. although the diarist does dream that in eternity “we shall understand each other and that there she will forgive me,”42 he claims that in this life such a reunion is impossible. or rather he is responsible for making it impossible by becoming a deceiver. the possibility of forgiveness is Indesluttethed; it has been made impossible from the inside out, by the diarist. if his deception worked, then she would have no love left for him that could be rekindled.43 moreover, if he has successfully replaced her image of him with a false one, then there is nobody left for the young woman to forgive.44 indeed, the diarist admits that begging her forgiveness “would sound as if i were making a fool of her.”45 the diarist’s profound insight is that the nature of deception is such that in order to make her believe that he was a deceiver, the diarist actually had to become a deceiver: Her idea of me was that i had more worldly tastes, that i wanted my freedom because the relationship became too confining for me….So I chose not to make myself understood SKS 6, 354 / SLW, 382. SKS 6, 309 / SLW, 332. 42 SKS 6, 355 / SLW, 383. 43 SKS 6, 309 / SLW, 332. 44 SKS 6, 367 / SLW, 396: “If she, tired of the whole affair, should find herself a new love, then i shall not only be left out of it, but so will every image of me, for she has none—at least none in which there is any truth.” 45 SKS 6, 355 / SLW, 382. 40 41

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Mariana Alessandri but to give her to understand that i was tired of her, that i was a deceiver [en Bedrager], a muddlehead. Her rescue depended on my holding firmly to this.46

Having become a deceiver, the diarist left himself no road back to the woman. He now has no logical way to make her believe that—although he previously deceived her into thinking he was a deceiver—he is not a deceiver. the diarist recognizes that as a deceiver he is unable to speak the truth to the young woman. For it is illogical and perhaps even offensive to say: “i deceive; believe me!” On the lover-deceiver reading, the diarist sacrifices his life for the woman—he has sucked the poison out of her and yet remains barely alive.47 He is a mussel that carries around the sliver inside. it is a moving story, and yet a number of things make this reading problematic. the diarist claims that the mussel knows that the sliver is inside; but this is precisely what it does not know. as a post hoc rationalization of his behavior, the diary makes the diarist a self-deceived deceiver: “is this what it is to love…to forsake her?” if he did right by the woman, then, as Climacus reminds us, the title of the diary could have been “unfaithful, and yet a man of Honor,” or “a broken Pledge and yet Eternal Fidelity.” No, the diarist can neither find himself “not guilty” and cease the cycle of pain, nor “guilty,” like Proud Henry: “suppose there was a weed that grew apart from the useful grain—then it would indeed stand on the side, would indeed be a weed, and would indeed be disgraced, but suppose that nevertheless it was called Proud Henry.”48 if only the diarist could be certain that he was guilty, then at least he could stop thinking about it. Proud Henry does not question himself; he is certain of his guilty. the diarist, however, has no such certainty. as it stands, the jury is still out on whether the diarist is guilty or not guilty; neither he nor we can rest “safe and secure.”49 Not even the diarist finds his tragedy entirely convincing, and so he dedicates his days, nights, and years to reliving and reflecting on the events, in an attempt to decide whether he is guilty or not guilty. instead of interpreting the diarist as primarily a lover who rescues a girl by deceiving her, the “writer-deceiver” reading portrays him as a writer who sets out to rescue himself by accumulating words. this makes the diary less about the diarist’s pain and more about the power of words.

ibid. SKS 6, 252 / SLW, 271. 48 SKS 6, 368 / SLW, 397. erik ziolkowski points out that Kierkegaard compared himself to Proud Henry early in his career, in 1838: “if i am a literary weed—well, then at least i am what is called ‘Proud Henry’ ” (SKS 18, 107, FF:165 / JP 5, 5293), and he notes that there is such a weed called Proud Henry (Stolt Henriks Gaasefod). see eric Jozef ziolkowski, The Literary Kierkegaard, evanston, illinois: northwestern university Press 2011, pp. 30–2. 49 SKS 7, 263 / CUP1, 288–9. 46 47

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II. The Writer-Deceiver Reading as a writer, the diarist lives in the quiet despair of his diary, dedicating his mornings to confession—recollecting the affair—and his nights to making meaning out of it.50 He alternately paints himself as both heroic and despicable—and occasionally as despicably heroic and heroically despicable. by reading the diary as a confession of the diarist’s despair over his inability to decide whether he is guilty or not guilty, we come to see that the diary itself is an attempt to rescue the author from meaninglessness. by pen and pain, the man, for whom “the most appalling meaning is not as appalling as meaninglessness,” tries to impose meaning onto a broken love affair.51 indeed, the diarist admits that he can live without the girl, but he repeatedly states that he cannot live without meaning: “what is all this for? why do i do it? because i cannot do otherwise. i do it for the sake of the idea, for the sake of meaning, for i cannot live without an idea; i cannot bear that my life should have no meaning at all.”52 He compares his need for meaning to a biological need, without which he would die: “Just as the fish when it lies on the shore gasps in vain for the sea in which it can breathe, so i gasp in vain for meaning.”53 by stringing words together, the diarist is trying to build a lifeline with which to drag himself through a meaningless sea.54 without words, he drowns; with words, he stays afloat by verbally treading water. The first epigraph to “ ‘Guilty?’/ ‘Not guilty?’ ” reads: “in norway the rich farmer places a new copper kettle over his door for every thousand dollars he acquires, and the innkeeper makes a mark on the beam for every time the debtor becomes more indebted—in the same way i add a new word for every time i consider my wealth and my poverty.”55 the diarist accumulates words in an attempt to attain meaning. if he could not spill himself through his pen, the diarist would be hopeless. at least “the nothing i am doing,” he pitifully announces, “still does provide a little meaning.”56 similarly, he describes how confession brings him comfort:

SKS 6, 203 / SLW, 216. SKS 6, 333 / SLW, 359. 52 SKS 6, 236 / SLW, 253. 53 SKS 6, 344 / SLW, 370. 54 Kierkegaard also writes about his pain, and he gives two similar images of the site of painful production: an abscess and a cow’s udder. First, Kierkegaard-the-abscess: “i am…so tied up in mental knots that i cannot get free, and since it is all connected with my personal life i suffer indescribably. and then after a short time, like an abscess it comes to a head and breaks—and inside is the loveliest and richest creativity—and the very thing i must use at the moment” (SKS 21, 48, nb6:65 / JP 6, 6230). next, Kierkegaard-the-cow: “the apparent wealth of fancies and ideas which one feels in abstract possibility is just as unpleasant and it brings on uneasiness similar to that which a cow suffers when it is not milked at the proper time. therefore one’s best method, if external conditions are of no help, is, like the cow, to milk oneself” (SKS 17, 230, dd:28 / JP 5, 5242). in both of these the writing that comes out is a fluid, which ties the images to the diarists’ fluid existence. 55 SKS 6, 181 / SLW, 193. 56 SKS 6, 236 / SLW, 253. 50 51

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Mariana Alessandri in the middle ages a person saved his soul by telling his beads a certain number of times; if in a similar manner i could save my soul by repeating to myself the story of my sufferings, i would have been saved a long time ago. if my repetition is perhaps not always imploring, ah, it nevertheless preferably ends in this final solace.57

Literarily pouring oneself out on the page is often cathartic for a writer, and for the young diarist it certainly is.58 as such, the diary can be described as an Udtømmelse, which might be described in english as an emptying out, an exhaustive discharge, or a “getting rid of.”59 telling his story of his suffering over and over again consoles the diarist; however, his writing does not ultimately help him get any closer to a verdict.60 instead, he oscillates between self-condemnation and rationalization, now fancying himself a murderer, now a quixotic knight. “am i guilty, then? yes. How? by my having begun what i could not carry out….what then is my guilt? that i did not understand it sooner.”61 on the other hand, he maintains that he loved her.

57 SKS 6, 346 / SLW, 372. Christopher norris points out that “there is a frequent disjunction between ethical purposes (like the will to confess) and the business of working them out in a narrative-textual form.” He interprets Paul de man’s interpretation of rousseau, which takes the form of qui s’accuse s’excuse: “confessions of guilt become self-exonerating, but also seem to be intensified by the very tactics which serve to excuse them. In short, he says, “there can never be enough guilt around to match the text-machine’s infinite power to excuse.” Christopher norris, “Fictions of authority: narrative and viewpoint in Kierkegaard’s writing,” Criticism, vol. 25, no. 2, 1983, p. 97; Paul de man, Allegories of Reading: Figural Language in Rousseau, Nietzsche, Rilke, and Proust, new Haven, Connecticut: yale university Press 1979, p. 299. 58 in interpreting de man’s interpretation of rousseau’s diary, norris points out that “the danger of confessional narratives is that they tend to build up a self-exonerating case for the accused which leaves him paradoxically with nothing else to confess. excuses generate a logic of their own which finally evades the need for “honest” self-reckoning…the narrative form permits any number of face-saving strategies, thus providing rousseau (or Kierkegaard) with a means of transforming guilt into a pretext for displays of redemptive self-approval.” norris, “Fictions of authority: narrative and viewpoint in Kierkegaard’s writing,” p. 96. 59 Kierkegaard uses this term in The Point of View to refer to the production of Either/ Or (he calls its “en digterisk Udtømmelse”), which Louis mackey renders as a “poetical catharsis.” Likewise, Ziolkowski points out that the term conjures up a “fluvial, river image, which connects to Kierkegaard’s other liquid metaphors for writing—pus and milk.” see my note 54 and Louis mackey, Points of View: Readings of Kierkegaard, tallahassee, Florida: Florida state university Press 1986, p. 178; eric Jozef ziolkowski, “søren Kierkegaard, the Quixote, and the Plunging guadalquivir—or guadiana,” Kierkegaard Newsletter, vol. 53, 2008, p. 22. 60 Crites says that the diarist will remain “in a state of total uncertainty” because he is “in a state of fundamental conflict about the meaning of what he has done, which his many anguished pages of reflection serve to clarify but which no amount of reflection can seem to resolve” and Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” p. 223. 61 SKS 6, 353 / SLW, 380–1.

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in a particularly lucid moment, the diarist goes so far as to call himself “comic like the man who lay in a ditch and thought he was riding horseback.”62 one year ago, he could not make meaning of the affair for the young woman; one year later he cannot make meaning of it for himself. the verdict is undecidable for the diarist; he is caught in a loop of endless writing and explaining, talking and rationalizing. the diarist’s problem is dialectical, and that is why he cycles through days and nights and half years and years. He cannot decide. Finding himself utterly incapable of definitively judging himself as either guilty or not guilty, he expresses a desire to turn outward: “if there were one person to whom i could turn, i would go to him and say: Bitte, bitte [please, please], put a little meaning for me into my confusion. to me the most appalling meaning is not as appalling as meaninglessness, and this is all the more dreadful, the more thoughtlessly it smiles.”63 Here the diarist is desperate for someone else to make meaning of his actions, to judge him, to decide if he was a faithful lover or a rogue in his affair with the young woman. this desire to be judged by someone other than himself is so powerful that this “writer-deceiver” reading of the diary begins to seem less than wholly adequate. the diarist is practically begging for someone else to interpret him to himself, that is, to be read. in another passage, he addresses a similar wish to life itself: “my demand to life is this—that it would make it clear whether i was trapped in self-delusion [Selvbedrag] or I loved faithfully, perhaps more faithfully than she.”64 Here, we witness the diarist coming upon the limits of writing in order to make meaning for oneself, of a writer without a reader apart from himself. in addition, this reading fails to take into account the diary’s intricacy; the diarist tells us too many times that for the previous fifteen years he has worked on “tumbling thoughts dialectically [at tumle Tanker dialektisk],”65 to have such straightforward goals. the next reading interprets the diarist as neither a lover trying to rescue a woman by deceiving her, nor as a writer trying to rescue himself by collecting words, but as an author who attempts to rescue his readers by deceiving them out of a deception. III. The Author-Deceiver Reading suppose the love affair locked in the wooden box is also a literary affair. suppose the broken engagement is the diarist’s occasion (or pretext) for analyzing another relationship. suppose that, in addition to being a confessional attempt to make SKS 6, 222 / SLW, 238. robert J. widenmann explains what is comic (and demonic) about the diarist’s situation: “the humorist depicted in Stages on Life’s Way gets no further. unable to make the religious resolve that would enable him to hold these contradictions together in passion, he falters, loses himself in repentance and a contemplation of the religious—and can proceed no further. This is a demonic form of humor that finds it impossible to sustain both an absolute relation to the absolute telos and a relative relation to actuality; in this conflict actuality in terms of the universally human or the ethical loses out.” Widenmann, “the Concept of stages,” p. 132. 63 SKS 6, 333 / SLW, 359. 64 SKS 6, 356 / SLW, 384. 65 SKS 6, 350 / SLW, 377. in the english, at tumle is translated as “handling.” 62

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meaning and to decide if he is guilty or not guilty, the diary is an examination of the complexities of communication. on this reading, the diary is still about a relationship, but this time between author and (potential) reader, and the diarist is still duplicitous, but this time the someone (Quaedam) he is trying to rescue by deceiving would be the reader. read as a communication from a young author to his reader, the diary might be trying to teach something by means of deception. the diarist writes that he became a deceiver to free the woman out of love for her, but he also writes that Mundus vult decipi (“the world wants to be deceived”).66 Throughout the diary the young man reflects on his role as deceiver vis-à-vis the young woman, but perhaps he also plays a similar role vis-à-vis the reader. the diarist’s explicit goal was to free the woman from himself by replacing her impression of him with an utterly false one: “during this whole affair my principal idea has been as clear as day to me: to do everything to work her loose.”67 if he believes that the world wants to be deceived, and if we believe that he is a deceiver, then we might come to believe that the young woman is not the only person the diarist is trying to work loose. the diarist’s explicit goal was to be earnest with the young woman for ten minutes a week. given the link the diarist makes between deceiving the young woman and the world’s desire to be deceived, we might also estimate that he is earnest with his reader for about ten percent of the diary. assuming the position of reader, we should expect that the diarist is frequently jesting, since even “true earnestness is the unity of jest and earnestness.”68 if it is possible to separate these moments of earnestness from those of jest, we might speculate about what the diarist is really trying to do by deception. Consider the following passage in this light: I benefit a person most by deceiving him. The highest truth with respect to my relation to him is this: essentially I can be of no benefit to him…and the most adequate form for this truth is that i deceive him, for otherwise it would be possible for him to make a mistake and learn the truth from me and thereby be deceived, namely that he would believe that he had learned it from me.69

The diarist undeniably finds it worthwhile to deceive people. But just what he is trying to deceive the reader into (or out of) believing is precisely what he cannot tell us. Just as he has cut himself off from an earnest relationship with the young woman by becoming a deceiver—he cannot intelligibly utter “i deceive; believe me!”— he has cut himself off from an earnest authorial relationship with his reader. we simply cannot know with certainty when he is being earnest and when he is in jest. then he would be trying to teach us something directly, which would be a deceit based on his own admission in the passage cited above. no, whatever it is that he is trying to teach his reader must take the form of deceiving out of the real deception. readers frequently turn to authors for truth in a naïve way, and dangers emerge when readers believe that they can learn something 66 67 68 69

SKS 6, 316 / SLW, 340. SKS 6, 237 / SLW, 254. SKS 6, 339 / SLW, 365. SKS 6, 319 / SLW, 343.

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existential directly from an author. according to the diarist, responsible authors come prepared. they make it their textual task to work the reader loose, to leave the reader alone, so that whatever the reader learns is not simply provided by the author, but achieved by a kind of critical self-exertion. on this “author-deceiver” reading the diarist is teaching his reader something about reading a text: deception has to be involved precisely because it already is. if a reader believes that she has learned something directly from an author, then she has been deceived, according to the diarist, and so needs to be corrected. of course, the correction must come in the form of a certain kind of deception lest the reader think she learned that reading is deceptive directly from the author, thus starting the cycle of deception once again. of course, according to the diarist, some authors are already aware of this danger and act accordingly: The person who has understood it the same way [as the diarist] presumably will conduct himself in the same way and, above all, continually express himself so circumspectly and in the form of deception that he avoids the danger of which everyone, right down to the most insignificant newspaper reporter, must be aware of in our age—that there nevertheless were a couple of people who had the preposterous idea that what was said directly was the truth and that their task was to sally forth into the world etc. but sallying forth into the world must be left to knights-errant; true earnestness is aware of every danger, of this one also—that someone might bona fide become a thoughtless follower, something best prevented by using antithesis as the form of presentation.70

if the diarist considers himself a practitioner of true earnestness, then we can intelligently speculate that he uses deception—in the form of antithesis—to keep the reader from becoming a thoughtless follower. to deceive his reader out of deception, the author has to set up camouflages and roadblocks, foils and pretexts, that is, he has to present himself falsely. Perhaps the diarist does. Perhaps the diarist’s deception begins by writing a manuscript in the form of a diary, and then burying it at the bottom of a lake. the pretext is privacy, its antithesis publicity. Perhaps instead of wanting to be left alone, the diary waits like a treasure at the bottom of the ocean for a Taciturnus to come along, then a Bookbinder, and finally a reader. we cannot know which parts of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” are jest and which parts are earnest, so we have to speculate. Likewise, it is unknowable if the diarist has deceived his reader out of love. even if he said he loved her, the reader should not, indeed could not, take his word for it, for he says that he is a deceiver.71 on his telling, true earnestness requires deceit, and so the author-deceiver leaves the reader alone with the text. this necessarily means the reader can never know if she is right or wrong in terms of what the author might be trying to teach.72 and the author certainly SKS 6, 320 / SLW, 344. as garff has noted, “the fact that an author deceives his reader, even deceives his reader into truth, does not change the fact that it is still deception.” Joakim garff, “rereading oneself,” Søren Kierkegaard Newsletter, vol. 38, 1999, p. 12. 72 Norris cites De Man, who claims that diaries are both “fictional discourse” and “empirical event,” and that for the reader, “it is never possible to decide which one of the two possibilities is the right one.” norris, “Fictions of authority: narrative and viewpoint in Kierkegaard’s writing,” p. 97; de man, Allegories of Reading, p. 293. 70

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cannot tell her, or else he would be trying to say something directly, which would be a deceit (or he would be deceiving her, which she should have come to expect). if she has learned anything from the diarist, the reader must, like the first Quaedam, consider the diarist a deceiver. if he is deceiving her, he is deceiving her (perhaps into the truth); if he is not deceiving her, then he is deceiving her (out of the truth).73 IV. Conclusion my fourth and most speculative reading of the diarist links his diary to another Kierkegaardian text. instead of comparing “ ‘guilty?’/ ‘not guilty?’ ” to Kierkegaard’s journals (which would be the obvious thing to do given that they were presumably private diaries until they were published), suppose we were to compare it to The Point of View. this would entail comparing the diarist’s “story of suffering” to Kierkegaard’s intellectual “report to History.”74 (in order to avoid confusion between the historical Kierkegaard and the author of The Point of View, i will refer to the latter as the reporter.) both texts were private until they became public, and both were retrieved and published by someone other than their authors. the diary was buried at the bottom of a lake, and the report was buried among the author’s papers, and yet both were “as good as finished.”75 both texts look private but give hints that they were meant to become public: the diary is a “very carefully and neatly handwritten manuscript on very fine letter paper,”76 and The Point of View was finished but was held back.77 in addition, the diarist and the reporter share quite a bit in common. they each tell a story of deception in which they intentionally made themselves look like someone other than who they were. the reporter uses the term “duplicity” (Dupliciteten), which the diarist never uses, but they both do use the term “deceit” (Bedrag), and each refers to himself as a deceiver (en Bedrager). Likewise, both are like jugglers who play with sharp knives; that is, they are both concerned with all things dialectical.78 they both claim to want to look as though they lack Crites calls it “shifting the burden of each book onto the reader,” and says that Kierkegaard does this. “it had to be done, given his view of the existential categories. they refer to movements in existence. the attempt to describe them directly would falsify what is essential.” Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” pp. 224–5. 74 the reporter calls his report, en ligefrem Meddelelse, which can translate as: “a direct communication.” the diarist would likely say that a direct communication between an author and his reader is not possible. it would be a deception. 75 SKS 21, 94, nb7:36 / JP 6, 6258. 76 SKS 6, 177 / SLW, 189. 77 in addition to these two, Kierkegaard’s journals were edited, as though he expected them to be published. 78 John updike concludes that Kierkegaard is a “man in love with duplicity and irony and all double-edged things,” and i would say the same about the diarist, who boasts that he is a man who for “fifteen years day and night has improved himself in handling thoughts dialectically, just as the arab handles the snorting steed, as the juggler plays with sharp knives” (SKS 6, 350 / SLW, 377; SKS 16, 17 / PV, 31). John updike, “the Fork,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City: anchor books 1972, pp. 164–82; thompson, “the master of irony,” p. 115. 73

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earnestness (Alvor), and both ostensibly want people to think they are scoundrels (Slyngel). Judging by their texts, deception is the modus operandi of both the diarist and the reporter, and they each write (and perhaps believe) that the world wants to be deceived.79 they both argue that their deceptions are necessary, but only the diary expresses doubt by way of his endless wrestling with the question “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” in contrast, the reporter writes as though he is certain that his use of deceit was appropriate, so his report to History could have been called “guilty yet not guilty,” and its author, “Proud Henry.”80 in addition, if we were to compare these two texts, we would see that both authors claim that the motive for their deception is love; the diarist loved the young woman (and his reader, on the “author-deceiver” reading) so much as to become a deceiver for her, and the reporter loved his reader so much as to become a deceiver for him.81 the diarist describes how he made himself look like a scoundrel (Slyngel) in order to save the woman’s heart and reputation; the reporter describes how he made himself look like a scoundrel (Slyngel) and a loafer (Dagdriver) in order to “inversely deceive” the world “into an understanding of the truth,” “because i was afraid that the big book [Either/Or] would bring me too much esteem.”82 Finally, each author dreams that one day his “lover” will come back. at the beginning of this article, i read Kierkegaard against taciturnus on the issue of hermeneutics. now i want to read the diarist against the reporter on the issue of deception. as we saw, the diarist writes that a reunion with the young woman is not possible in this lifetime, because he deceived her. by making her think he was someone he was not, the diarist successfully deceived the young woman (and perhaps set her free). what is certain is that his deception changed him into someone else (and so in a real sense was no longer a deception—he became that thing). the diarist believes that a successful deception—even one done out of love, which he cannot be certain of—makes forgiveness impossible. any reunion attempt in this life would only make a fool of her and so would have to wait until the next life.83 in contrast, the reporter writes that when his lover comes, he (yes, he) will recognize him as a religious author under the “Erscheinung [appearance] of worldliness.”84 this lover will read the reporter’s other texts and will see how his interpretation “fit at every single point.”85 unlike the diarist’s lover, the reporter’s lover will be able to discriminate between jest and earnestness even in the face of SKS 16, 39 / PV, 58; SKS 6, 316 / SLW, 340. see note 48. 81 Crites elaborates: “In his last years [Kierkegaard] kept interpreting the pseudonymous works, lest the reader miss the Christian point of the whole. The Point of View for My Work as an Author, subtitled ‘a direct Communication’ and ‘a report to History’ was only his most elaborate attempt to explain himself.” Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” p. 228. 82 SKS 16, 39–44 / PV, 58–63. Sjouer and Dagdriver both translate as “loafer,” which in this context also means “scoundrel.” PV, notes, p. 316, note 35. 83 the diarist hopes for a reunion in eternity; perhaps the reporter’s decision not to publish the report during his lifetime was his way of hoping for the same thing. 84 SKS 16, 49–50 / PV, 69. 85 SKS 16, 19 / PV, 33. 79 80

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deceit, and he will read the works as the reporter claims to have intended them.86 moreover, not only would forgiveness of the deception be possible, but it might not even be necessary. Following his logic, the reporter was deceiving out of love, and he is certain of this, unlike the diarist.87 in sum, the diarist of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty’ ” believes that a successful deception entails becoming ever more unbelievable to his lover, whereas the reporter of The Point Of View believes that he can deceive and his lover will go on believing.88

SKS 49–50 / PV, 69–70. Crites asserts: “if Kierkegaard was later moved to reassert his proprietary rights, by trying to provide definitive interpretations in The Point of View and the Journals, one can only reply…that indian giving is not permitted in dialectic or poetry… though he is of course welcome to interpret it along with the rest of us.” see Crites, “master of Irony Demystified: Josiah Thompson’s ‘Kierkegaard,’ ” p. 245. 87 mark mcCreary draws an ethical line between deception of another person in a relationship and deception in writing, condemning the first and condoning the second. thinking of the reader as a lover may complicate matters. mark L. mcCreary, “deceptive Love: Kierkegaard on Mystification and Deceiving into the Truth,” Journal of Religious Ethics, vol. 39, no. 1, 2011, pp. 44–5. 88 Mark Tietjen puts his finger on the problem by accusing Garff of denying Kierkegaard seriousness: “Kierkegaard—under deconstruction—has no possible way to convey serious intentions.” see mark a. tietjen, Kierkegaard’s Practice of Edification: Indirect Communication, the Virtues, and Christianity, baylor: baylor university 2006, p. 129. the diarist would likely agree with garff that the deceiver renounces his own claim to credibility, not deconstruction. this is presumably what the diarist means when he says that the woman has no true image of him after he played the scoundrel (SKS 6, 367 / SLW, 396). garff points out that Kierkegaard similarly “admits to his own deception, [yet] expects his reader to accept the performatively problematical figure that says: ‘I deceive, believe me!’ ” Garff, “Rereading oneself,” p. 13. Likewise, norris implies that by engaging in deceit, Kierkegaard forfeited his claim to truth: “by devising such a perfect sequence of pretexts for his moral life-history, Kierkegaard risks the collapse of his own founding categories. Fact can no longer be separated from fiction, or ‘aesthetic’ motivation from ethical choice.” Norris, “Fictions of Authority: narrative and viewpoint in Kierkegaard’s writing,” p. 96. 86

bibliography barnett, Christopher b., Kierkegaard, Pietism, and Holiness, aldershot: ashgate 2010, pp. 66–76. berthold, daniel, “Kierkegaard’s seductions: the ethics of authorship,” MLN: Modern Language Notes, vol. 120, no. 5, 2005, pp. 1044–65. burgess, andrew J., “the relation of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way to Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 189–212. Crites, stephen, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City, new york: anchor books 1972, pp. 222–4. Davenport, John J., “The Ethical and Religious Significance of Taciturnus’s Letter in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 213–44. garff, Joakim, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, pp. 337–53. González, Darío, “Suspended Reflections: The Dialectic of Self-Enclosure in Kierkegaard’s ‘ “guilty?”/“not guilty?” ’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 174–88. Hall, amy Laura, “stages on the wrong way: Love and the other in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way and Works of Love,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 9–47. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, pp. 258–76. Keeley, Louise Carroll, “Living the Possibility of a religious existence: Quidam of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 189–212. Kjӕr, Grethe, “The Concept of Fate in Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 245–59. León, Céline, “the no woman’s Land of Kierkegaardian exceptions,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, pp. 147–74.

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mcCarthy, vincent, “morning and melancholia in ‘Quidam’s diary,’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 149–72. Pattison, George, “Art in an Age of Reflection,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 76–100. Poole, roger, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, Chapter 4. rocca, ettore, “søren Kierkegaard and silence,” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon daniel marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, pp. 77–83. widenmann, robert J., “the Concept of stages,” in Some of Kierkegaard’s Main Categories, ed. by Niels Thulstrup and Marie Mikulová Thulstrup, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1988 (Bibliotheca Kierkegaardiana, vol. 16), pp. 120–37. ziolkowski, eric Jozef, The Literary Kierkegaard, evanston, illinois: northwestern university Press 2011, pp. 26–36.

victor eremita: a diplomatic yet abstruse editor Joaquim Hernandez-dispaux

In the life of Victor, beloved, we find both that which we can rightfully admire, and that which we can imitate for our salvation.1 bernard of Clairvaux

who is victor eremita, the victorious hermit—“who is the author of Either/Or?”2 to take up the problem in the terms in which “a. F....”3 formulates the question? arriving at an answer may be an arduous task. if we stick to what is indicated in an article published in Fædrelandet in 1843, such a task even appears impossible: “so the matter is still adhuc sub judice [before the court] and perhaps will never go further.”4 one might nevertheless have thought that a door had been opened that would lead to a conclusion of this vast investigation, with this trail of clues running throughout søren Kierkegaard’s works. there was indeed high hope that one might learn who this strange pseudonym is when in the preface to the papers of “a” and “b,” we learn that these papers were discovered by an obviously cultivated bargain hunter, who reads Hegel, Chateaubriand, Cicero, and Homer and marcus aurelius— ad se ipsum! the man, as he gives himself to us to be read, is inquisitive and certainly not lacking in curiosity when he one day happens upon an antique writing desk, with which he—not unambiguously—falls in love. what follows is well known. eremita was about to depart on a journey but had no money, and he decided to check in his writing desk to see if something was inside, but he could not open it: whether my blow struck precisely this spot or the vibration through the entire structure of the desk was the occasion, i do not know, but this i do know—a secret door that i had 1 bernard de Clairvaux, Office de Saint Victor. Prologue à l’antiphonaire. Lettre 398, ed. by Claire maître and gérard dubois, trans. by esther Lenaerts-Lachapelle and bernard de vregille, Paris: Cerf 2009, p. 149. 2 SKS 14, 49 / COR, 13. 3 a. F.... is the anonymous author of an article with this title published right after the publication of eremita’s book. the main goal of this article is to propose a few methods in order to discover who was the real author of Either/Or since “a” and “b” remain absolutely anonymous. 4 SKS 14, 49 / COR, 13.

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Joaquim Hernandez-Dispaux never noticed before sprung open….Here, to my great amazement, i found a mass of papers, the papers that constitute the contents of the present publication.5

to move beyond this famous anecdote concerning the discovery of the materials contained in Either/Or, we want here to propose theories stemming from the appendix “a glance at a Contemporary effort in danish Literature” in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.6 this text proves to be decisive in many respects for understanding who victor eremita is. First of all, as far as his position in the development of Kierkegaard’s works is concerned, he appears as an intermediary pseudonym, essentially a link between the dichotomy presented in Either/Or and the “tripartition” of the Stages. since victor eremita appears on both sides, according to Climacus, the fact “[t]hat Stages has a relation to Either/Or is clear enough.”7 but it is no less true that Either/Or, published in 1843, is a “dichotomy” between the aesthetic (a’s papers) and the ethical (b’s papers); whereas Stages, a text written in 1845, “is markedly different from Either/Or by a tripartition. there are three stages, an esthetic, an ethical, [and] a religious.”8 in what way can we say that the pseudonym “victor eremita” functions as a central link in the construction of a philosophy of stages? victor eremita’s very name simultaneously evokes the “ethical existence” which is “essentially struggle and victory,”9 and his surname brings to mind the cloister, the monastic life, and the “middle ages” that Kierkegaard denounces in the Postscript. a remark by Climacus, in this same “glance,” should, however, encourage us to understand that this question, as central as it appears to be, is nevertheless premature and must necessarily be preceded by another: “the difference between Stages and Either/Or is conspicuous enough….victor eremita, who previously was just the editor, is transformed into an existing individuality.”10 but then, if he was previously an editor, what is an editor? before (2) asking the question as to what role eremita plays in the movement from the dichotomy of Either/Or to the tripartition of the Stages, it is essential (1) to first understand what it means, within the internal framework of (a) the pseudonymity, to occupy (b) the function of “editor.” I. Eremita as Editor (A) Should we take seriously the affirmations Kierkegaard sets forth both in the “Postscript to Either/Or” and the articles in Fædrelandet, then asking the question as to who victor eremita really is might seem futile and even misleading if we seek to respect the essential character of the pseudonymity, such respect being itself a first step to understanding his role as editor. are we then at an impasse? by no means. when a.F.... suggests that “it is not worth the trouble to be concerned about who 5 6 7 8 9 10

SKS 2, 13–14 / EO1, 6. SKS 7, 228ff. / CUP1, 251ff. SKS 7, 258 / CUP1, 284. SKS 7, 268 / CUP1, 294. SKS 7, 263 / CUP1, 288 (my emphasis). SKS 7, 261 / CUP1, 286–87 (my emphasis).

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the author is,”11 he is not so much suggesting that we give up the investigation— if that were the case, this study would indeed be pointless—as he is seeking to give us an indication of the framework within which such questioning ought to be drawn out. When affirming that it is indeed a triviality to know whether Eremita might for example be the rich landowner and successful merchant Conrad Hinrich donner in altona (1774–1854), a.F.... is in fact making reference to the essential and unsurpassable nature of the pseudonymity, which from the outset rules out the possibility of getting beyond its own inherent limits and thus the very thing which makes the pseudonymity possible. this possibility would be eradicated if one were to attempt to identify the pseudonym with a real person. in 1846, in “a First and Last explanation” in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, Kierkegaard sheds new light on these suggestions when “[f]or the sake of form and order” he confirms that he is indeed “the author of Either/Or (victor eremita),” while nevertheless maintaining that this is “something that it can scarcely be of interest to anyone to know.”12 why might this be? because, Kierkegaard informs us, the pseudonymity has “an essential basis in the production itself.”13 as such, the role of author, in accordance with the theory of indirect communication, incites Kierkegaard to make a double movement, pushing him in opposing yet convergent directions. As Jacques Colette points out: “it is through a reflexive movement that, constantly redirecting his affirmations to himself, the author presents himself while simultaneously remaining absent from this presentation.”14 in this way, Kierkegaard is able in a single movement to admit that “[w]hat has been written…is mine,”15 while at the same time maintaining that “in the pseudonymous books there is not a single word by me,”16 and more radically that “[a] single word by me personally in my own name would be an arrogating self-forgetfulness that, regarded dialectically, would be guilty of having essentially annihilated the pseudonymous authors by this one word.”17 when we interpret the matter through the intersection of these two perspectives— the recommendation formulated by a.F.... through Kierkegaard’s own “signed” affirmations in “A First and Last Explanation”—it appears not only superfluous to determine who victor eremita is, but also “scarcely…of interest” even if we were able to make such a determination, if in doing so we would thereby identify the pseudonym with a real person, be it donner in altona or Kierkegaard himself. to do so would in truth amount to annihilating the pseudonymity itself and as such rendering it impossible for us to grasp the meaning behind the editorial role that eremita plays therein.

SKS 14, 51 / COR, 16. SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. 13 ibid. 14 Jacques Colette, L’existentialisme, Paris: Presses universitaires de France 2007, p. 23 (my translation). 15 SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. 16 SKS 7, 570 / CUP1, 626. 17 ibid. 11

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(b) if Kierkegaard is quick to underscore that the pseudonymity certainly was not designed out of “fear of penalty under the law” and that to that effect “the printer and the censor qua public official have always been officially informed who the author was,”18 then we understand better now why, as far as eremita is concerned, the case remains adhuc sub judice. this necessity indicates also that we should, if we desire to seek to know who he is, investigate the question within the framework of the pseudonymity itself. we ought thus to remember that one of the only instances where eremita himself speaks up is when he claims his responsibility for his work as editor in a response to Johan Ludvig Heiberg (1791–1860). in his criticism published in his journal the Intelligensblade, Heiberg criticizes the poor organization of the manuscripts in Either/Or: “the author’s uncommon wit, erudition and stylistic accomplishment is [regrettably] not accompanied by a capacity for organization.”19 in response to this, eremita deftly states that a reader who has so clearly read too hastily and not taken note of the indications given in the Preface must necessarily be unable to see the “capacity for organization” behind the text.20 more radically, it is his editorial work that eremita ends up describing in the “Postscript to either/or.” as he notes, “an editor…is especially obliged to apply himself to modesty,”21 so that the reader might “enter into a self-active relation to the book.”22 many commentators have emphasized the role and function of authorship in the works of Kierkegaard, insisting, as merold westphal and vincent delecroix do,23 on how this brings the dane into close connection with other thinkers such as Hans georg gadamer (1900–2002), roland barthes (1915–1980), michel Foucault (1926–84), and Jacques derrida (1930–2004). according to this perspective, the death of the author is posited as an indispensible condition for rehabilitating the place of the reader with regard to the understanding of a text. it would not be illogical to read victor eremita’s position in light of the notion of the death of the author, which consists in the author’s voluntarily erasing himself from the text, when he himself insists on his “modest” nature, that is, on the fact that he must withdraw himself from the text. as he writes: “the plan was a task of self-activity and to want to force my conception on the reader seemed to me to be an insulting and impertinent intrusion.”24 We understand, thus, that Eremita figures as one of the multiple variations on the Kierkegaardian conception of the author, who, in renouncing any claim to authority, enables the reader to freely appropriate the text for himself. it is in this way, moreover, that he participates in implementing the hermeneutical SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. SKS K14, 156 (my translation). 20 SKS 14, 55 / COR, 18: “en organiserende Magt.” 21 Pap. iv b 59, 216 / EO2, supplement, 420. 22 Pap. iv b 59, 217 / EO2, supplement, 420 (my emphasis). 23 merold westphal, “Kierkegaard and the anxiety of authorship,” International Philosophical Quarterly, vol. 34, no. 1, 1994, pp. 5–21. the proximity to vincent delecroix’s positions seems evident. see vincent delecroix, Singulière philosophie. Essai sur Kierkegaard, Paris: Le Félin 2006, pp. 171–91, Chapter vi, “avoir un lecteur et le perdre.” 24 Pap. iv b 59, 217 / EO2, supplement, 420. 18 19

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principal according to which “all receiving is a producing,”25 a principle developed by Climacus and later taken up by gadamer in Truth and Method. there is, however, one argument which might weaken this thesis: being an author—with or without authority—means producing, that is to say, writing a text. the obviousness of this statement is never questioned. However, Eremita writes nothing—if he does write, it is only as a paratextual character, within the framework of the pact developed with the reader in the aim of better defining his own role. Moreover, in several passages, he clearly refuses to be identified as author, in order to lay claim to being recognized for his role as editor: “i am no author,” as he states.26 if we may say, in this sense, that victor eremita seems to follow the general model of the pseudonyms, who, without exception, reject the “excess of the didactic,”27 it is not, however, evident that we may thereby give credit to the hasty assimilation that is generally made between author and editor, despite the fact that eremita himself affirms that he, as editor, is “distantly related to the author.”28 these nuances bring up a question which could directly echo Foucault’s wellknown question.29 Rather than asking “What is an author?” we ought first to ask what is an editor? our thesis consists in suggesting that if eremita proceeds to a double form of humiliation that of the author first and foremost, and secondly on his own, this is the result of the cyclical interaction of two rites: (a) the rite of reconciliation— with a distinct emphasis on the act of penitence—and (b) the rite of baptism as an expiatory practice. (a) First and foremost, eremita the editor is a very particular type of observer: he is a confessor. if we may offer an anecdotal comment on the historical origin of the name victor eremita, it seems very probable that it is an allusion to saint victor of arcis (6th century), whose life was presented by saint bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) in an officium, rather than a sermon.30 more importantly, however, it is essential to note that eremita is very precisely that which annihilates the author. SKS 7, 78 / CUP1, 78: “At al Reciperen er en Produceren.” SKS 2, 20 / EO1, 13. 27 SKS 7, 255 / CUP1, 280. 28 SKS 14, 55 / COR, 17. 29 see michel Foucault, “Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur,” in Dits et écrits. 1954–1988, vol. 1, 1954–1969, ed. by daniel defert and François ewald together with Jacques Lagrange, Paris: gallimard 1994, pp. 789–821. 30 Although we cannot offer strong textual support to confirm our working hypothesis, we find it striking to note that the figure of Victor Eremita found in Kierkegaard’s works closely resembles the portrait given of the life of saint victor of arcis by bernard of Clairvaux, both in terms of form and content. there is no doubt that Kierkegaard read the “last of the Fathers,” despite the fact that he rarely cites him directly, as Jack mulder has pointed out (see Jack mulder, “bernard of Clairvaux: Kierkegaard’s reception of the Last of the Fathers,” in Kierkegaard and Patristic and Medieval Traditions, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2009 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception and Resources, vol. 4), pp. 23–45). the similarity between Clairvaux’s representation of Saint Victor and the figure of Victor Eremita is striking, to say the least. For example, Clairvaux interprets saint victor’s life on the request of abbot guy and the monks of montiéramey, taking care to avoid presenting the work as a sermon, but presenting it rather as an office. As far as Kierkegaard is concerned, he insists as 25 26

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First, by giving priority to the sense of hearing over vision, the editor only takes into account what the author is speaking about; thus eremita in no way aspires to glorify, through vision, the person who is speaking: “a priest who hears confessions is separated by a grillwork from the person making confession; he does not see, he only hears.”31 In this case, the avowal of the author is in itself sufficient to confound him, that is to say, to make him assume a position of humility. the exclusive focus on the interior, rather than the exterior, aims, in all likelihood, at rendering the sense of hearing itself autonomous and thus dissociating it from the hearer. this movement which literally neutralizes the author is completed by a second, and highly ambiguous, gesture. we see this when victor eremita declares: “But it is necessary to find a more concise expression to characterize the two authors.”32 if the editor has william’s name at his disposal—the supposed author of the second part of Either/Or—he has no information concerning the author of the first part, and from this perspective we might have thought that he would be eager to find another name by which to designate him. this is, however, not the case; indeed, despite the fact that the Judge had partially revealed his identity, he finds himself reduced, not merely to a shortened expression (et kortere Udtryk), but finally to a mere singleletter designation, as “b.” through these two movements initiated by the editor—the autonomy of the confession and the abridgement of the author—it becomes possible for the reader to read the text without being disrupted by external factors; that is to say, the reader becomes freed from the authority or renown of the author, or even from the enigma of the author’s yet unknown identity. the two texts (those of a and b) are meaningful without any additional information as to their origin or any considerations of the possible fascination this information might provoke. the authors have thus been silenced, through the editor’s efforts to render them inaccessible; the authorial stance gives way to the reader, now solely responsible for the text. (b) eremita is in this sense the incarnation of the initial gesture toward a hermeneutics, whose fate is not dependent upon authorial decision, and whose movement is continual withdrawal. as such, however, withdrawal becomes a defensive posture excluding the possibility for admiration (a fundamentally paralyzing attitude), which could possibly generate a consequence which, as a result, might become an obstacle to the reader’s capacity for appropriation, and thereby creation of meaning. when examined attentively, the abridgement of the author’s identification is already an intervention on the part of the editor—it is indeed a timorous baptism; not exactly the act of granting a name, but a designation nonetheless. victor, however, also deems it necessary to baptize the text and, moreover, the editor as well. these two appear to be fundamentally correlated: well on the “upbuilding” dimension of his works, a dimension which, moreover, contributes to evacuating the authorial authority it may otherwise have: “Just as the pseudonymous books, in addition to what they are directly, are indirectly a polemic against speculative thought, so also are these discourses, not by not being speculative, for they are indeed speculative, but by not being sermons” (SKS 7, 248 / CUP1, 272–73). 31 SKS 2, 11 / EO1, 3 (my emphasis). 32 SKS 2, 15 / EO1, 7 (my emphasis).

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“i called the work Either/or….the editor should now have a name. it goes without saying that this name must be chosen in consequence of and in harmony with the rest.”33 but in so doing, by granting himself a role within the construction of the text, and naming “A” as author of the first papers (and directly from the preface to Either/Or), Eremita seems to find it necessary to continually apologize, profusely: “I thought it appropriate to use the word Διαψάλματα as the general title. If the reader considers this an unfortunate choice, i owe it to the truth to admit that it is my own idea.”34 the remorse expressed by eremita stems, undoubtedly, from his having put a damper upon the reader’s freedom; through the act of baptism, by which he himself becomes creator of the text, eremita positions himself again as an author who has not yet been recognized for his work. moreover, victor is conscious of the danger inherent in this act: “the book did not go unnoticed; on the contrary, it created a certain sensation; the firm ‘Victor Eremita’ climbed several points a few maildays in succession. what temptations for a poor vain heart! what bright prospects for someone so fortunate as to bear that name!”35 all things considered, eremita’s entire approach consists in thinking about the way in which he must take on a name while at the same time avoiding that this act become an obstacle to the reader’s free appropriation of the text. as such, he seems to understand baptism according to the tenants of the early church, for which it was first and foremost an expiatory practice. in the same way in which he neutralizes the author in order to give space to the text, he initiates a movement of humbling whereby he effaces himself behind the work and becomes the paradigm of readership. this is why, after having truncated the identity of the author(s) of the text, the editor initially adopts a passive stance toward it. He attempts literally to make himself into the “initial reader”: “what he must do is to immerse himself in the work itself and by this descent allow the work to baptize itself, so to speak.”36 in so doing, in this case, he effaces himself before the either/or so as to incarnate the alternative and finally to produce it in his own existence: “the person who says ‘the work is an either/or’ creates the title himself.”37 the choice of a pseudonym depends upon this humbling (that he is himself the either/or): “in the choice of a literary name, one is more limited—that is, if one has what I had, a specific work in relation to which it is to be chosen.”38 the editor choses, then; he choses to call himself “victor eremita.” but quite unlike the choice of an author, the choice of an editor has no intent of neutralizing the active engagement of the reader with the text. on the contrary, it is through this technique that the reader’s engagement becomes defined: “He called himself ‘Victor Eremita,’ a name that in his opinion would not be a proprium [proper name] for the editor but an apellativum [descriptive name] for the reader.”39

33 34 35 36 37 38 39

Pap. iv b 59, 216–17 / EO2, supplement, 420–1. SKS 2, 16 / EO1, 8 (my emphasis). Pap. iv b 59, 219 / EO2, supplement, 422. Pap. iv b 59, 216 / EO2, supplement, 420. Pap. iv b 59, 217 / EO2, supplement, 421. Pap. iv b 59, 216 / EO2, supplement, 420. Pap. iv b 59, 218 / EO2, supplement, 421.

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thus, it is because the name is merely an appellation, and therefore discreet, that it speaks to all, and designates the paradigm of readership. each individual can, through the readership pact, appropriate the text for himself—not, of course, in total relinquishment, nor under the constraint of an intransigent authority, but rather insofar as he is accompanied by the initial reader: “every individual reader can, of course, do this [create the either/or] just as well as the editor.”40 although as editor eremita cannot exactly be called a pseudonym since, as elsebet Jegstrup has remarked, the term is exclusively used to designate authors,41 we must note that eremita holds a central position between author and reader; it is through him that the foundations of a hermeneutics are laid down. the role of the editor is to ensure that the reader be able to appropriate the text in such a way that his reception be a production rather than a simple reproduction (through admiration, for example). In order to do this, he first neutralizes the author so as present a text free from any form of authority, and second defines the relation to the text by presenting himself as the paradigm of readership. II. The “Existing” Victor: Diplomatic and Abstruse a change of tone, a change of mood: the second major occurrence of victor eremita in Kierkegaard’s works appears in Stages on Life’s Way and more particularly in “in vino veritas.” the duplicity of the pseudonym, at once ethical and religious, turns out to be decisive for the understanding of his role and position within the architectonics of the stage philosophy, which, from a simple dichotomy between the aesthetic and the ethical in Either/Or, becomes a tripartition in the 1845 text. our argument is that it is the duplicity of his position which enables eremita to take a stand with regard to two distinct models of aesthetic life which converge in a single form of solitude: the refusal to live in the world, to accept the actuality of existence. He does this doubly: first, by denouncing the aesthetes who speak before him at the symposium (those who were present in Repetition), second, through his anticipation of the critique of the middle ages that is found in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. victor clearly finds satisfaction in opposing these two modalities of existence, whether it be the rejection of love by the young man, or the rejection of monastic life. the thesis upheld by Climacus—“[t]hat subjectivity, inwardness, is truth”42—can already be found articulated by eremita in Either/Or: “it may at times have occurred to you, dear reader, to doubt somewhat the accuracy of that familiar philosophical thesis that the outer is the inner and the inner is the outer.”43

Pap. iv b 59, 217 / EO2, supplement, 421. elsebet Jegstrup, “Kierkegaard on tragedy: the aporias of interpretation,” Philosophy Today, vol. 40, 1996, p. 289: “the name of the editor of Either/Or, victor eremita, [is] supposedly a pseudonym [but] it is questionable whether we can even refer to this name as a pseudonym. according to the oed, a pseudonym stands in for an author, and an author is someone who authors something, that is, writes something.” 42 SKS 7, 254 / CUP1, 282. 43 SKS 2, 11 / EO1, 3. 40 41

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From the onset, eremita’s mission seems to be to rehabilitate a true ethical religiosity, in which the inner can in no way be equated with the outer, against an aesthetic conception of the religious according to which the outer is the inner. (A) It is essential first to contrast a notion of solitude which does not forgo the possibility of marriage, with the young man who lauds his denial of women, since the “loveable” cannot be understood through reflection. This allusion made by Victor to Judge William’s affirmations—of which he is the editor—enables him (b) simultaneously to criticize the “monastery,” whose contradictory nature lies in the fact that it presents inner life to the outer world. eremita is thus able to think out a religious life that uses marriage as an exteriority while preserving interiority/ inwardness. but this task remains ambiguous, and it is essential to understand how eremita, as a participant at the symposium, remains an aesthete—despite the fact that as such, he is nevertheless, like the others present there, “by no means ignorant of the ethical.”44 (A) Eremita’s intervention plays, first and foremost, an architectonic role within the pseudonymous writings. Situated in the first part of Stages, it is a response to the editor of Either/Or as well as to the characters of Repetition, and especially to the young man. as far as the part of the work in which he intervenes is concerned, we must note that “in vino veritas” purports to be a space of confrontation between these two works. it is evident that Stages is closely linked to Repetition, since the young man and Constantin are reunited in the person of Quidam,45 the imagined character of “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty’ ” (the third part of Stages, on suffering). but this is without taking into account that in “In Vino Veritas” (the first part of Stages), we are already presented with fully developed characters that uphold the new dichotomy established here—instead of that between the aesthetic and the ethical developed in Either/Or—between the aesthetic and the religious, manifest in the discourses of those who speak before eremita and which he confronts. it is in attempting to make himself understood by the young man and Constantin that eremita is able to introduce, albeit discreetly, a stage which is completely unknown to them: that of “b” or Judge william, of whom he happens to be the editor. the position of the young man is in all respects opposed to that of the married man: he firmly refuses to love,46 since woman and, more generally, any object of love, is something that his power of reflection and his obsession for analysis cannot grasp. as a result, he prefers to withdraw, and even literally to take refuge, in his indecision, maintaining that it is ridiculous to attempt to explain the inexplicable, to seek to find meaning where in fact there is none. If we understand how, in a certain sense, woman represents the failure of metaphysics but also of his own interest, we must note that Constantin Constantius, already in Repetition, described this denial of actuality as being, precisely, the work of imagination, the act of the poet, an absence of circumstance: “the passion of possibility.”47

44 45 46 47

SKS 7, 271 / CUP1, 297. SKS 7, 265 / CUP1, 290. SKS 6, 42 / SLW, 38. SKS 4, 30 / R, 154.

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eremita appears to adopt the same stance, since it is indeed this remark that he takes up. woman, as he explains it, is man’s “inspiration,” but this is because she constantly evades his possession, so that this movement itself stimulates him and pushes him into ideality: “as long as a man does not have her, she inspires him.”48 this defense of love—at least, a certain type of love—conceived of at a distance, this bringing together which separates, and this separation which nevertheless still brings the lover closer to the beloved in the manner of an asymptote, without, however, ever coming into contact, has been the subject of many polemics, sometimes quite vehement, especially in the French reception of Kierkegaard. Historically, “in vino Veritas” was one of the first Kierkegaardian texts translated into French. Since it was published independently from the rest of Stages, presented as a work on its own, some authors, especially within the Francophone world—following benjamin Fondane (1898–1944) and undoubtedly influenced by Lev Shestov’s (1866–1938) readings—have proposed a sensational account of the work. as Fondane wrote, “Kierkegaard had, for a long time, and especially in ‘in vino veritas,’ attempted to turn his impotence into an advantage.”49 Following the same line, though in different terms, some psychoanalysts have taken up this reading. Jacques Lacan (1901–81) admitted, in one of his seminars, that “over the past twenty years” he had really done nothing other than “investigate philosophers on the topic of love.”50 in his description of the dialectics of the love-relationship between man and woman, Lacan continually insists on the fact that it is only because, on the one hand, man castrates himself—in other words, refuses his phallic function—and, on the other hand, that woman fully assumes this function, that the sexual relationship can be successful. and this is indeed the schematic according to which Lacan read Kierkegaard’s relationship to regine olsen: “it is not by chance that Kierkegaard discovered existence through a minor experience (petite aventure) as seducer. He thinks he can gain access to love by castrating himself, by giving it up.”51 eremita is a poet—at least, that is what we might initially think, since he praises the infidelity of woman so as to refuse to believe in marriage. Ought we see here a critique of the Hegelian conception of the “moral reality of marriage” as the “consciousness of its substantial unity” (“Das Sittliche der Ehe besteht in dem Bewußtsein dieser Einheit als substantiellen Zweckes”), which enables love to become incarnated as community (Gemeinsamheit) within individual existence?52 rodolphe adam suggests that Kierkegaard’s critique might perhaps result from his having “emasculated” himself.53 Yet despite the rich field of investigation that this SKS 6, 60 / SLW, 59. benjamin Fondane, La conscience malheureuse, Paris: Verdier/Non Lieu 2013 [1936], p. 231 (my translation). 50 Jacques Lacan, Le séminaire de Jacques Lacan. Livre XX. Encore. 1972–1973, ed. by Jacques-alain miller, Paris: seuil 1975, p. 70 (my translation). 51 ibid. (my translation). 52 g.w.F. Hegel, Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts, ed. by Johannes Hoffmeister, Leipzig: verlag von Felix meiner 1955, p. 141, § 163 (my translation). 53 rodolphe adam, “La femme, l’écriture, l’existence,” Revue des Sciences Philosophiques et Théologiques, vol. 93, 2009, pp. 551–9. see also rodolphe adam, Lacan et Kierkegaard, Paris: Presses universitaires de France 2005. 48 49

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theory opens up, we must note that such a reading would lead to reducing him to a form of aesthetic solitude, that is to say, despair about the possible, the lack of actuality, which does not exactly seem to be the case of the victorious hermit when he declares, “So, then, am I perhaps preaching the monastery, and am I justifiably called eremita? by no means. Away with the monastery.”54 (b) it is only through the critique of the monastery that one can really come to understand how it is that eremita is able to plead in favor of a union between man and woman as an integral part of everyday life susceptible to enabling the individual to come to terms with a truly inward truth. if there is one thing of which he is fully aware and even demands, it is the fact that the inner is not the outer, an argument which he upholds in opposition to the claims of Hegel. moreover, we have to notice that the editor of Either/Or, insofar as he is an existing being, is fundamentally in contradiction with the values of the middle ages, whose limits Climacus explores in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. For the error of the middle ages and its monasticism resides in the fact that it relativizes the absolute telos and gives it merely outward expression—that is to say, by converting it to a purely relative goal: the dubious character of the monastic movement…was that the absolute interiority, probably in order to demonstrate very energetically that it existed, acquired its obvious expression in a distinctive separate outwardness, whereby it nevertheless, however one twists and turns, became only relatively different from all other outwardness.55

yet, breaking with the world cannot be simply reduced to a mere statement of intention, and just as it is easy to say that one doubts everything while concluding ipso facto from thought to being, it is just as easy to pretend that one is making a movement of withdrawal in “scarcely ten minutes” though a mere “verbal pathos [which] is esthetic pathos.”56 as opposed to the movement of mediation, withdrawal must be understood as an essentially ethical task, a retreat, of course, but constituted through patience—Geduld ist alles! (patience is everything)57 as rainer maria rilke (1875–1926) would later write to the young poet, who might as well be Kierkegaard’s young man. according to this perspective, the individual, all the while going about his daily business—the relative goals—nevertheless always retains the absolute telos within himself. He is thus faced with the strenuous ordeal of the abyss, that is to say, the pursuit of these two radically antithetical directions which are nevertheless the coordinates of one authentic passion. such is the tragic terrain of existence, the difficulty of existing: “it is difficult simultaneously to relate oneself absolutely to the absolute τέλος and then at the same moment to participate like other human beings in one thing and another.”58 yet this is precisely the task that eremita takes upon himself—after having defended the impossibility of marriage and advocated

SKS 6, 65 / SLW, 65 (my emphasis). SKS 7, 368 / CUP1, 405. 56 SKS 7, 369 / CUP1, 406. 57 rainer maria rilke, Briefe an einen jungen Dichter, ed. by Joachim w. storck, zürich: diogenes 2006, p. 26 (my translation). 58 SKS 7, 370 / CUP1, 407. 54 55

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the independence of man with regard to woman—“he becomes an eremita even if he rides the omnibus night and day.”59 eremita thus accomplishes his officium—in the strict sense of the term, “the task which is ours and which consists in doing things as they present themselves to us”60—not as an obstacle, but rather in such a way as to preserve his solitude. through the accomplishment of daily tasks, this solitude is reinforced and gives consistency to the practice. we are quite far here from the aesthetic attitude, which cannot but lose itself when faced with the impasse to which sentiment leads—that is, in the outwardness which Climacus denounces in the following terms: “From the ethical and religious point of view, one does not become a hero by being a brisk fellow who is able to take everything lightly, but rather by taking life with extreme heaviness—yet, please note, not in the form of a half hour of feminine screaming, but in the form of endurance in inwardness.”61 victor does not shout out; he is patient, certainly, but he nevertheless remains a fundamentally ambiguous character, admittedly ethical, but varying between the aesthetic and the religious. in any event, he is the steadfast incarnation of a pseudonym attached to the core thesis according to which “subjectivity, inwardness, is truth.”62 However, Climacus also added, in reference to those who conceal their interiority in order to reveal themselves, that [i]n a certain sense it is somewhat appalling to speak this way about a person’s interiority [Indvorteshed], that it can be there and not be there without being directly discernible outwardly. but it is also glorious to speak this way about interiority—if it is there— because this is precisely the expression for its inwardness [Inderlighed].63

it is glorious, first and foremost, if we reread Eremita—who rides the omnibus—in terms of the figure of the “diplomat,” who, according to Climacus, is the perfect incarnation of that man who has understood that the inner is not the outer: “it can be a suitable task for diplomats and police agents to acquire the art and self-control to be able to hold fast to the great plan and simultaneously to go to dances, converse with the ladies, go bowling, and do whatever one likes.”64 nevertheless, what Climacus finds fascinating, Anti-Climacus—the archetypal or perfect Christian— deems properly and indubitably appalling, since remaining incognito in such a way is also one of the principal figures of despair, the prelude to the demonic. In this respect, we have to see Victor Eremita as impenetrable, the very personification of “inclosing reserve”65 (Indesluttethed), yet still a man who lives in the world—he is married—and a religious man:

SKS 6, 66 / SLW, 65. Pierre Caye, Morale et chaos. Principes d’un agir sans fondement, Paris: Cerf 2008, p. 20 (my translation). 61 SKS 7, 242 / CUP1, 266. 62 SKS 7, 254 / CUP1, 282. 63 SKS 7, 370 / CUP1, 407. 64 SKS 7, 370 / CUP1, 407–8. 65 SKS 11, 177 / SUD, 63. 59 60

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and Christian?—well, yes, he is that, too, but prefers not to talk about it, although with a certain wistful joy he likes to see that his wife is occupied with religion to her upbuilding….on the other hand, he not infrequently longs for solitude, which for him is a necessity of life, at times like the necessity to breathe, at other times like the necessity to sleep….aside from his natural good nature and sense of duty, what makes him such a kind husband and solicitous father is the confession about his weakness that he has made to himself in his inclosed innermost being.66

Eremita is thus more than merely an intermediary figure who establishes the link between Either/Or, Repetition, Stages on Life’s Way, and the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. on the one hand, he criticizes the young man, whose withdrawal from the world is in fact really impatience, who proclaims his resignation from actuality and the banality of the quotidian. on the other hand, however, he also criticizes the monk, who, like the main character of Repetition, expresses his refusal of the world outwardly. as opposed to these two figures of outwardness or exteriority, Eremita makes a case in favor of a life of retreat, but a retreat which does not forgo the quotidian—the inner is not the outer. on the contrary, subjectivity as inwardness and truth presupposes a dialectical relation to outwardness. eremita seeks to maintain both, to maintain the synthesis in tension, without sacrificing either of its terms; he holds that there is just as much positive as there is negative, and employs the quotidian in order to preserve his solitude. As such, he remains a highly ambiguous figure. We can read this pseudonym as partaking in an ethics which prefigures a religious life from which all aesthetic elements have been expurgated. yet despite this, he remains an aesthete insofar as he can be seen as the incarnation of inclosing reserve, a distinguished case of despair. III. A Discreet Character who is victor eremita? He is certainly a complex character of varying dimensions, who could be of interest to many contemporary debates. We have tried to briefly sketch several of these, most especially as pertains to hermeneutics and Lacanian psychoanalysis. nevertheless, one general trait does indeed seem characteristic of this strange figure: his discretion—not only as editor, but also in his existence. In both cases what is at issue, in complete harmony with the essential characteristic of the pseudonymity, is the act of coming forth through withdrawal. this is in fact the main feature that martin Heidegger (1889–1976) took up with regard to the morphology of Kierkegaard’s works, which makes them participants in the history of western metaphysics. in many respects, the journey of the victorious hermit can be seen as the occasion of the opening up of various fields in which the logic of the pseudonymity as a concealing name (verbergender Name)67 is deployed—whether it SKS 11, 178–9 / SUD, 64–5. martin Heidegger, Gesamtausgabe. II. Abteilung: Vorlesungen 1923–1944. Band 34. Vom Wesen der Wahrheit. Zu Platons Höhlengleichnis und Theätet, ed. by Hermann mörchen, Frankfurt am main: vittorio Klostermann 1988, pp. 135–6. 66 67

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be within the framework of understanding what is an editor or understanding what is an existing being. all of these dimensions could certainly eventually be reintegrated within the framework of a fundamental ontology in order to offer a descriptive perspective which is lost when one focuses too exclusively on questions of origins, but would go beyond the scope of the present study. Translated by Mélissa Fox-Muraton

bibliography brandt, Frithiof, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard. En Række nye Bidrag, Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, p. 75; p. 223; pp. 326–8. brezis, david, Temps et présence. Essai sur la conceptualité kierkegaardienne, Paris: vrin 1991, pp. 223–5. dunning, stephen, Kierkegaard’s Dialectic of Inwardness, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1985, pp. 32–3. evans, C. stephen, “Kierkegaard as a Christian thinker,” in his Kierkegaard on Faith and the Self, waco: baylor university Press 2006, p. 312. garff, Joakim, “Den Søvnløse”. Kierkegaard læst æstetisk/biografisk, Copenhagen: C.a. reitzel 1995, pp. 68–79. gouwens, david J., “Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, Part one: Patterns of interpretation,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert. L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 5–50. Harries, Karsten, Between Nihilism and Faith: A Commentary on Either/Or, berlin: walter de gruyter 2010 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 21), pp. 15–16. macintyre, alasdair, After Virtue, notre dame: university of notre dame Press 1981, pp. 39–45. mackey, Louis, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 8–9. Pattison, george, “the initial reception of Either/Or,” in Either/Or, Part I, ed. by robert. L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 1995 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 3), pp. 291–305. tietjen, mark a., Kierkegaard, Communication, and Virtue: Authorship as Edification, bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 2013. westfall, Joseph, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 68–74.

vigilius Haufniensis: Psychological sleuth, anxious author, and inadvertent evangelist Lee C. barrett

I. The Problem of Vigilius’ Alleged Pseudonymic “Weakness” in the vast scholarly literature about Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous authors, the mysterious vigilius Haufniensis has been decisively upstaged by the much more celebrated Johannes Climacus. in one of the few books entirely devoted to the topic of sin and anxiety in Kierkegaard’s corpus, gregory beabout has lamented that “there has been very little written about vigilius Haufniensis.”1 Unlike the more prolific Climacus, Haufniensis was the author of only one rather short book, The Concept of Anxiety, which was published in June 1844. that single volume is notoriously difficult to read, and its style is sometimes laboriously academic, so much so that it has been deemed “nearly impenetrable,”2 and excoriated for its “vile, slovenly style” and “clumsy, unnecessary terminology.”3 Partly because it lacks the literary flair typical of the presentation of the “stages of existence,” and partly because it does not neatly fit into the schema of the stages, Vigilius’ volume “often seems to be treated as something apart from the bulk of Kierkegaard’s authorship.”4 this relative neglect is exacerbated by the fact that Haufniensis divulges much less information about himself than Climacus does in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript. to further motivate this marginalization of Haufniensis, Kierkegaard’s own commentaries on his authorship say surprisingly little about him. For example, in The Point of View for My Work as an Author Kierkegaard merely includes The Concept of Anxiety in a catalogue of the aesthetic works without bothering to explain the significance of the pseudonymous author.5 given the fact that Haufniensis seems to be pedantic and gregory r. beabout, Freedom and Its Misuses: Kierkegaard on Anxiety and Despair, milwaukee: marquette university Press 1996, p. 22. 2 edward mooney, On Søren Kierkegaard: Dialogue, Polemics, Lost Intimacy, and Time, aldershot: ashgate 2007, p. 107. 3 alexander dru, quoted in walter Lowrie, “translator’s Preface,” in søren Kierkegaard, The Concept of Dread, trans. by walter Lowrie, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1946, p. viii. 4 w. glenn Kirkconnell, Kierkegaard on Sin and Salvation: From Philosophical Fragments through the two ages, new york: Continuum 2010, p. 40. 5 SKS 16, 15 / PV, 29. 1

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not very self-revelatory, it is understandable that his persona would have received much less attention than most of the other pseudonyms. nevertheless, grasping Haufniensis’ personal perspective and pathos is essential for understanding the possible meanings of The Concept of Anxiety. Because of the confluence of all these factors, many interpreters have minimized the importance of vigilius’ persona. For example, walter Lowrie claimed that the mask of vigilius was adopted by Kierkegaard simply because he feared that the book revealed too much about his own psyche.6 Perhaps, Lowrie suggested, such apprehensions about too much psychological transparency accounts for the fact that Kierkegaard’s name did not even appear on the title page as the editor of the book, as was the case with many of the other pseudonymous works. taking such considerations into account, reidar thomte proposed that vigilius is a “weak” pseudonym, a view which has become exceedingly widespread.7 gregory beabout has agreed that Haufniensis is very different from the other aesthetic pseudonyms, in that he, like Kierkegaard his creator, was an earnest Christian writer who engaged in direct religious instruction.8 according to beabout, the only aspect of the book that made the use of a pseudonym attractive was the absence of edification in its pages, a lack which precluded the self-attribution characteristics of Kierkegaard’s upbuilding literature. such considerations support this prevalent interpretive trajectory’s insistence that vigilius can be construed as a religious writer whose theological views were those of Kierkegaard. the fact that Kierkegaard’s original draft for the book cited himself as the author seems to substantiate this view.9 in an earlier version of the preface Kierkegaard had made his own responsibility for the book abundantly clear, but before publication he modified that preface in such a way that his authorship of it was obscured. evidently the decision to invent a pseudonymous author was a bit of an afterthought. an observation by Climacus in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript tends to corroborate this minimization of the role of vigilius’ persona, for Climacus describes the book as being a straightforward communication of information, an assessment that ostensibly downplays the importance of the personal characteristics of the author. Climacus asserts, “The Concept of Anxiety differs essentially from the other pseudonymous works in that its form is direct and even somewhat didactic [docerende].”10 Climacus speculates that this impersonal academic tone may be due to the author’s conviction that, even if an author seeks to foster inwardness, there are certain types of inwardness that must be preceded by the communication of some knowledge. in these instances information must be provided before the reader can be inspired to engage in the desired inward deepening. accordingly, Climacus does not provide even the most cursory sketch of vigilius’ personality. However, some interpreters, including roger Poole, vanessa rumble, Jason Mahn, and Christopher Nelson, in different ways maximize the significance of 6 7 8 9 10

walter Lowrie, “translator’s Preface,” in Kierkegaard, The Concept of Dread, p. x. reidar thomte, “notes,” in CA, 221. beabout, Freedom and Its Misuses: Kierkegaard on Anxiety and Despair, pp. 22–31. Pap v b 42 / CA, supplement, 177. SKS 7, 245 / CUP1, 269–70.

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vigilius’ authorial persona for the book’s content.11 Certain remarks by Kierkegaard himself tend to verify this view. For example, Kierkegaard writes in a journal passage, “some people may be disturbed by my sketch of an observer in The Concept of Anxiety. it does, however, belong there and is like a watermark in the work…. at the same time as the book develops some theme, the corresponding individuality is delineated.”12 Kierkegaard proposes that the “corresponding individuality” appropriate to an investigation of anxiety is not restricted to vigilius’ portrayals of various individuals in his text. more importantly, the sketch of vigilius himself functions in the book as a delineation of the individuality that corresponds to the book’s theme. Kierkegaard implies that somehow the voice of an “observer” is appropriate for an analysis of anxiety. other considerations point to the potential importance of vigilius’ character and perspective. the fact that the decision to ascribe the book to a pseudonym was made fairly late in the process of its composition does not detract from the significance of the authorial voice. even when writing under his own name, Kierkegaard carefully constructed his authorial identity. Kierkegaard was convinced that an author’s voice contributes significantly to a text’s meaning. Three years after publishing The Concept of Anxiety, Kierkegaard observed, “in one person’s mouth the same words can be so full of substance, so trustworthy, and in another person’s mouth they can be like the vague whispering of leaves.”13 to understand any concept of existential significance, the pathos appropriate to that concept must be made clear. Kierkegaard frequently complained that the disastrous incongruity between the dispassionate discourse of theologians and the passion-laden Christian concepts that they vainly attempted to communicate evacuated those concepts of all meaning. without the requisite pathos, the ways in which the concepts functioned in an individual’s life would be left unspecified. Different themes required different moods, different passions, and therefore different authorial personae to instantiate those moods and passions.14 vigilius himself very prominently alerted the reader to the importance of mood for any significant communication. In the introduction to the book he laments, “That science, just as much as poetry and art, presupposes a mood in the creator as well as in the observer, and that an error in the modulation is just as disturbing as an

roger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, pp. 83–107; vanessa rumble, “the oracle’s ambiguity: Freedom and original sin in Kierkegaard’s The Concept of Anxiety,” Soundings, vol. 75, no. 4, 1992, pp. 605–25; Jason mahn, Fortunate Fallibility: Kierkegaard and the Power of Sin, oxford: oxford university Press 2011, p. 56; Christopher nelson, “soundings of silence: the Lily, the bird, and the dark Knight of the soul in the writings of søren Kierkegaard,” in Without Authority, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 18), pp. 49–52. 12 SKS 18, 213, JJ:227 / JP 5, 5732. 13 SKS 9, 19 / WL, 11–12. 14 see Joseph westfall, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 223–77. 11

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error in the development of thought, have been entirely forgotten in our time.”15 “mood” in this context suggests a pervasive passional quality that is appropriate to a particular “science” or domain of discourse, and to the concepts that constitute that domain of discourse. according to vigilius, the meaning of a bit of language is dependent upon the passional qualities that should be part of the context of its proper use. It is not the case that a concept is first dispassionately understood and then its appropriate pathos is imagined as an optional supplement. rather, the mood in which a concept like “anxiety” or “sin” is typically used is intrinsic to its meaning. For example, a reader must recognize that texts that communicate ethical norms are intended to foster a mood of self-critique, and that texts that identify spiritual dangers are intended to encourage a mood of apprehension. even if the reader does not personally share in these moods during the reading, the reader must realize that they are the characteristically appropriate and intended ways to respond to such communications. Confusion inevitably results if a concept is treated in an inappropriate conceptual domain characterized by an inappropriate mood. For example, the self-accusatory force of “sin” cannot be communicated in the dispassionately observant mood of psychology. the imperative and urgent mood of ethics cannot be communicated by speculative philosophy. vigilius carefully draws distinctions between conceptual domains in order to avoid mismatching concept and mood. the most egregious offense to communication would be any attempt to integrate and homogenize concepts from different domains with the help of a passion-neutral speculative framework. if concepts from different domains were organized according to the principles of an ontological logic, all the moods appropriate to them would be volatized and their meanings would evaporate. much of The Concept of Anxiety is devoted to the theme that the detached mood of speculation is inimical to any consideration of the doctrine of hereditary sin or even to an exploration of sin’s psychological preconditions. to prevent confusion and the potential loss of meaning, textual devices must foster the appropriate mood for the ideal interaction of the text and the reader. Paramount among these devices is the author’s voice. the authorial voice must be suited to the type of pathos that is constitutive of the meaning of the concepts to be explored. an author’s pathos must be congruent with subject matter, or else the meaning of the words will be unclear or distorted. most disastrously, a voice without an appropriate form of pathos would be utterly incapable of communicating anything of existential importance. in each of his works Kierkegaard adopted the voice appropriate to the text’s conceptual themes and rhetorical purposes, sometimes even changing voices in the course of a single book as his themes changed. this attentiveness to the way that the meaning of concepts must be displayed accounts for Kierkegaard’s construction of his repertory of pseudonymous authors, some with well-delineated and elaborate personalities. Here the importance of the author’s persona is most evident, for each of the pseudonyms exemplifies a different form of pathos, writes with a different rhetorical purpose, and addresses the reader differently. the pseudonyms display the passional dynamics of their respective subject matters in an exaggerated and 15

SKS 4, 322 / CA, 14.

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concentrated form. the pathos appropriate to the subject matter must be shown and not simply discursively stated. For example, because the concept “duty” involves scrupulous intentionality, patience, and long-term consistency, the voice of an ethical author should exhibit constancy throughout the text, a willingness to engage in careful and sometimes laborious explication, and dedication to the task at hand. accordingly, the pseudonym Judge william radiates the reliability and determination typical of a dutiful friend, husband, and citizen. the crucial role of authorial voice is not restricted to the pseudonymous works. Kierkegaard carefully constructed the voices of the implied authors even in the texts that he acknowledged as his own productions. seemingly straightforward expositions of doctrinal concepts like “Christ,” “love,” and “the Lord’s supper” require the display of their appropriate forms of pathos. an exploration of sin requires an implied author sobered by remorse. an exposition of Christian love requires an author who effervesces with enthusiasm for self-giving and exudes joy in the midst of being persecuted for love’s sake. the fact that The Concept of Anxiety was originally intended to be signed does not militate against the importance of the pseudonymous author’s unique identity and perspective. II. Vigilius the Objective Psychological Detective what sort of person, then, is vigilius Haufniensis? this is not as easy a question to answer as it is in the case of many of Kierkegaard’s other pseudonyms. vigilius is not a paragon of self-disclosure, at least not to the extent that “a” or Judge william is. in fact, vigilius bids everyone farewell at the end of the brief preface, as if he as an author were about to disappear.16 nevertheless, vigilius does provide a few direct statements about himself. moreover, his rather detailed delineations of the nature and concerns of the “psychologist” apply to himself, for it is as a psychologist that he primarily defines his identity. Finally, his style, tone, and rhetoric manifest a distinctive personality, even if that manifestation is inadvertent. It is significant that Vigilius immediately identifies himself as a person without authority. He defines himself negatively, accentuating his distance from traditional sources of cultural power and influence. At the very beginning of his deliberation, vigilius humbly confesses that he would prefer to be regarded as “a layman who indeed speculates,” and that he is an author “without any claims.”17 in a draft of The Concept of Anxiety, the author protested that he “would not for anything in the world want to be an authority.”18 vigilius, it turns out, is a “layman” who lacks authority in a few different senses. multiple factors account for his unwillingness to make authoritative “claims.” as his essay proceeds, it becomes clear that part of what this self-description entails is that Vigilius does not possess any official authority conferred by the church or any other source of religious legitimacy. He is not an ordained minister, and he does not write like one. His task, as he sees it, is not the direct proclamation of 16 17 18

SKS 4, 314 / CA, 8. ibid. Pap. v b 72:5 / CA, supplement, 179.

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Christian doctrines. that is the purpose of the sermon “in which the single individual speaks as a single individual to the single individual.”19 vigilius deliberately draws attention to the fact that his style eschews the earnest, urgent, and authoritative rhetorical tone of the preacher. He claims that he is not even presuming to clarify traditional church doctrines. what he writes does not possess the imprimatur of any ecclesial magisterium and therefore lacks the credibility of institutionally sanctioned convictions. rather than apodictically asserting truths which the reader should accept, vigilius more modestly proposes some speculations for the reader’s consideration. vigilius is a “layman” in another sense. He is not a member of the academic or cultural establishment, and he is devoid of the authority ascribed by his contemporaries to modish authors. He most emphatically is not one of the metaphysical speculators whose popularity and influence were increasing.20 He predicts that his book will not please “the admired men of science” whose “concern in their search after the system is known to the whole congregation.”21 as Jon stewart has argued, Kierkegaard’s real target here was probably the danish Hegelian adolph Peter adler (1812–1869), and perhaps rasmus nielsen (1809–1884) and Johan Ludvig Heiberg (1791– 1860).22 vigilius sarcastically ridicules the authority ascribed to faddish speculators, claiming that he will worship any human authority “but with one proviso, that it be made sufficiently clear by the beating of drums that he is the one I must worship and that it is he who is the authority and Imprimatur for the current year.”23 His antipathy to claiming any cultural authority is so pronounced that he invites the reader to call him by the more pedestrian name “Christen madsen,” if the Latin “vigilius Haufniensis” sounds too imposing. Christen madsen (1776–1829) was an ordinary farmer/carpenter who became a noted figure in one of Denmark’s populist revival movements and fell afoul of the church establishment. Presumably vigilius was suggesting that he had no more cultural caché than a humble and persecuted lay preacher. Throughout the text Vigilius boldly and overtly flaunts the fact that he writes without authority. by resisting the attribution of authority to his writings, vigilius forces the reader to assume responsibility for how the reader will respond to his text. the reader cannot give the volume credence because the church, the academy, or the general culture has endorsed it. the author’s text has no cogency apart from its potential ability to strike a responsive chord in the reader. no external validation can discourage the reader from being offended at its contents, or from dismissing it as a trifling jest. The task of appropriation is shifted to the reader. not only does vigilius lack authority, but he also seems to lack the passional qualities that one would normally expect in an author who constantly gestures toward such a weighty and spiritually daunting topic as “hereditary sin.” although SKS 4, 323 / CA, 16. SKS 4, 314 / CA, 8. 21 SKS 4, 356 / CA, 51. 22 Jon stewart, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york and Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 378–418. 23 SKS 4, 314 / CA, 8. 19 20

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vigilius claims to restrict himself to an examination of anxiety, he orients his text around the doctrine of original sin. He denies being a theologian, yet he does assume the validity of Lutheran doctrines, particularly the central Lutheran teachings about sin. but by vigilius’ own admission his voice lacks the note of earnestness that he claims is necessary for the treatment of such a foundational Christian concept.24 as he observes, if he were to elaborate the meaning of sin, he would need to express a mood of repentance and exhibit an honest effort to avoid sin. someone who writes about sin, he claims, should show that the author’s own sin deeply concerns that author, just as the reader’s sin should concern the reader. Sin is by definition a matter of grave concern, and that concern is constitutive of its meaning.25 treating sin in any other way would falsify the concept and distort its meaning. but such requisite self-concern vigilius does not overtly manifest. in fact, on the surface vigilius seems to be uncommitted to any religious or ethical way of life or to any altruistic course of action. given the fact that he frequently discusses choices that have ethical dimensions, this may strike the reader as exceedingly odd. but vigilius makes it clear that ethics is not his subject matter, even though it may impinge upon his topic. ethics, he explains, articulates an ideal way of life and exhorts the individual to actualize it. Consequently, the imperative mood and a sense of urgent striving are necessary for such a science that presents idealities. but vigilius does not admonish the reader to pursue an ethical ideal, nor does he manifest any enthusiasm for the ethical life. He frankly admits that the earnestness appropriate for an ethical text is absent from his pages. initially, given his tone and self-presentation, he seems to manifest no trace of sincere, selfconscious inwardness. rather than presenting himself as a spokesperson for the church, the academy, or the spirit of the contemporary age, or as an exemplar of earnestness, vigilius identifies himself in a crucially different way. Vigilius is a psychologist, the practitioner of a discipline that devotes itself to the observation of human life.26 the centrality of observation is inscribed in his very name, which means “the watchman of the Harbor” or “the watchman of Copenhagen.” “Hafnia,” meaning “harbor,” was the Latin name for the harbor village that evolved into the city of Copenhagen. “Watchman of the Harbor” would have suggested something very significant to Kierkegaard’s contemporary danish readers. the felt need for a lookout with acute vision who could diligently scan the horizon would have been very much alive in the popular imagination, for four decades earlier the british had twice attacked and bombarded the French-allied harbor city during the napoleonic wars, wreaking great havoc and ruining the economy. vigilius’ identity of a “harbor watchman,” his self-positioning as a vigilant sentinel, has several implications for the nature of his text and the ways that it functions. First, any cogency that vigilius’ work might have can only be due to the impact of his observations upon the reader. as we have seen, vigilius does not base his deliberations on any external institutional or cultural authority, nor upon the power 24 25 26

SKS 4, 323 / CA, 16. Kirkconnell, Kierkegaard on Sin and Salvation, p. 42. SKS 4, 351 / CA, 45.

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and profundity of his own religious inwardness. rather than appealing to authority or to personal piety, he develops a very different sort of justification for his contentions. as a psychologist, the persuasiveness of his text is simply a function of the intrinsic plausibility of his analysis of the human psyche. either the reader will be moved to agree with the author’s assessment, or the reader will be unconvinced or even offended. the fruits of vigilius’ watchful activity will either ring true, or they will not. the sentinel can report what he has seen on the horizon, but the veracity of his report can still be doubted. the responsibility for the uptake of the book is placed squarely on the shoulders of the reader. secondly, vigilius’ identity as a psychologist delimits his subject matter and restricts it to the vicissitudes of daily life. the sort of human experience that fascinates the psychologist is not the idealized existence of epic characters, but is the motley panorama of quotidian episodes that constitute the lives of everyday people. therefore the psychologist has no need of literary examples but is content to scrutinize ordinary individuals.27 the adept psychologist “will bring his observations entirely fresh from the water, wriggling and sparkling in the play of their colors.”28 He claims, “if an observer will only pay attention to himself, he will have enough with five men, five women, and ten children for the discovery of all possible states of the human soul.”29 more particularly, the phenomena that a psychologist “observes” are the passions and psychic states that animate the lives of individuals.30 the psychologist is not primarily interested in biographical externalities, but in the emotions, motivations, interests, and perturbations that characterize individuals’ most intimate passional development. as we would expect given vigilius’ remarks about the correlation of meaning and mood, the perspective of the psychologist also determines the mood of vigilius’ little volume. even with psychological investigations the mood must be right.31 in general, vigilius’ literary style initially seems to be calm and methodical, even pedantic, lacking the urgency of a warning or an exhortation. according to vigilius, the proper mood of psychology is patience, curiosity, inquisitiveness, and attentiveness,32 all qualities of “persistent observation.”33 a psychologist engages in the careful and deliberate sleuthing typical of a “secret agent.”34 He is like a police agent who “sits entirely composed in his room but knows everything that takes place.”35 His eyes, vigilius remarks, are “inquisitorially sharp.”36 He seems to occupy a neutral, third-person vantage point, coolly surveying the human landscape. the choice of a “deliberation,” a type of literary work that clarifies something unknown or poorly understood, as the genre for this exposition is entirely appropriate. the author is aptly 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

SKS 4, 359–60 / CA, 55. ibid. SKS 4, 427 / CA, 126. SKS 4, 359–60 / CA, 55. SKS 4, 367 / CA, 62. SKS 4, 359–60 / CA, 55. SKS 4, 322 / CA, 15. ibid. SKS 4, 360 / CA, 55. ibid.

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named “watchman,” for he is on the lookout for something clandestine, ominous, and potentially dangerous. the fact that vigilius is a psychologist also determines his relationship to that which he observes. the psychologist must be in control of the observational situation in order to garner the desired information. it is assumed that this investigation will involve the uncovering of some disturbing passional dynamics that have been hidden. accordingly, the psychologist sets out to “discover the individual’s secret.”37 this may require the psychologist’s willingness to manipulate and even deceive the subject whom he is scrutinizing. vigilius confesses, “His silence in the moment of confidence should be seductive and voluptuous, so that what is hidden may find satisfaction in slipping out to chat with itself in the artificially constructed nonobservance and silence.”38 Like a stealthy sentinel, vigilius is silent and invisible, disappearing from the view of those he observes. such a sleuth of the human psyche must necessarily objectify his subjects and maintain objective distance from them. individuals are regarded not as genuine dialogue partners, but as specimens to be analyzed. the psychologist must remain detached from the interaction at hand. the psychologist “sits and traces the contours and calculates the angles of possibility.”39 in so doing the psychologist is disturbed no more than was archimedes when the romans pillaged syracuse.40 this mood of objectivity requires a high degree of passional self-mastery. vigilius insists that the psychologist must be “prudent enough to control his observation.”41 Consequently, the detective of the human psyche must eschew the more self-involving passions that characterize other perspectives. For example, psychological observation lacks the earnestness that typifies a genuine flight from sin.42 similarly, it does not exhibit the mood of “courageous resistance” to sin that true penitence requires.43 as Jason mahn has noted, it is ironic that an author like vigilius who exposes the inadequacies of allegedly objective speculation would so endorse a dispassionate objective standpoint.44 but however much disdain vigilius may heap upon dispassionate speculators, his own authorial self-positioning epitomizes the coolness of the scientific observer. III. Vigilius as an Example of Anxiety However, vigilius’ espoused objectivity is not pure. His observational detachment is complicated by another factor, a crucial factor that problematizes the identity of the psychologist. in order to grasp the psychological dynamics of their subjects, psychologists like vigilius must reproduce in their own psyches the passional states 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

ibid. ibid. SKS 4, 330 / CA, 23. ibid. SKS 4, 360 / CA, 55. SKS 4, 322 / CA, 15. ibid. mahn, Fortunate Fallibility: Kierkegaard and the Power of Sin, p. 56.

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that they observe. vigilius asserts that the psychologist “imitates in himself every mood, every psychic state that he discovers in another.”45 He must “incline and bend himself to other people and imitate their attitudes.”46 in other words, the psychologist must cultivate a capacity to empathically imagine the emotional states of other human beings. even if the psychologist experiences these passional dynamics second-hand, at a safe distance, and feels them only in his imagination, this capacity nevertheless requires the nurturing of an affective sensitivity. the passions which the psychologist must exclude in order to be objective are paradoxically invited into his imagination so that he can have objects to analyze. this ability to imagine various forms of pathos, and to feel their power, is absolutely essential for vigilius’ investigative method. His psychological analysis is not based on induction from a multiplicity of empirical data. His type of research is not an instance of “arriving at results by tabulated surveys.”47 rather, the psychologist creatively constructs the “totality” of the phenomenon, as well as the “invariable form” of the passional state, from examples in which it is only partially present.48 in order to generate this ideal type, the psychologist must experience the underlying force of the particular passion and grasp the interconnections of its various dimensions. He must generate in himself the restlessness of the psychic state in order to uncover its motivational valences. Having done so, the psychologist presents the essence of the passion to his examples in an exaggerated form.49 their shock of recognition corroborates the accuracy of his investigations. For the psychologist’s reproduction of the particular pathos to be possible, he must experience some sympathy with the exemplars of the passion. according to vigilius, this sympathetic identification is based on the realization that what has happened to one individual can happen to any individual.50 vigilius’ investigations presuppose the maxim unum noris omnes (to know one is to know all).51 He concludes, “at every moment, the individual is both himself and the race.”52 accordingly, vigilius claims that in psychology the power of the example is the crucial intermediate term.53 what has happened to the other can happen to one’s own self, including the psychologist’s own self. the power of the example, instantiating what is a potentiality present in all people, provokes the psychologist to a deeper self-understanding. inadvertently compromising his position of disinterested objectivity, vigilius claims, “every individual is essentially interested in the history of all other individuals, and just as essentially as in his own.”54 Obviously, the stance of the psychologist is difficult to maintain, for two countervailing dynamics pull the psychologist in different directions. on the one 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

SKS 4, 360 / CA, 55. SKS 4, 359 / CA, 54–5. SKS 4, 367 / CA, 62. SKS 4, 359 / CA, 55. SKS 4, 360 / CA, 56. SKS 4, 359 / CA, 54. SKS 4, 382 / CA, 79. SKS 4, 355 / CA, 28. SKS 4, 379 / CA, 75. SKS 4, 355 / CA, 29.

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hand, the psychologist must remain detached and emotionally uninvolved in order to uncover the appropriate psychological data. on the other hand, the psychologist must reproduce in his own psychic life the basic dynamics of the subject whom he is investigating. the affective states of his specimen must be imaginatively experienced. This feat would seem to require a certain amount of sympathetic identification with the observed other. the other is not entirely other, for the other manifests a passional possibility for the observer’s own self. thus the psychologist attempts to maintain objective distance and yet to engage in some sympathetic identification at the same time. to say the least, this dialectic is exquisitely tensive and the balance of opposing tendencies is exceeding precarious. ironically, the ambivalent, tensive nature of psychological observation is particularly apt for the specific subject matter of Vigilius’ investigations. Vigilius is not concerned with all human psychic states, but is only preoccupied with the phenomenon of anxiety. in the introduction vigilius boldly announces, “the present work has set as its task the psychological treatment of the concept of ‘anxiety.’ ”55 even when his exposition seems to get diverted to the topic of hereditary sin, vigilius always reminds the reader that anxiety is the central issue. throughout the text anxiety remains his singular focus. as we shall see, vigilius is particularly adept at teasing out the countervailing tendencies that make anxiety such a restless phenomenon. although vigilius never directly reveals why anxiety fascinates him so much, or explains why an investigation of anxiety would be valuable, his subject matter and his role as a psychologist are uniquely suited to one another. the fundamental dynamics of anxiety parallel the ambivalence that characterizes vigilius’ stance as an observer. Yet another tension reflects the ambivalence of Vigilius’ stance and the ambivalence of anxiety. vigilius approaches his subject matter from a very odd angle. on the one hand, he immediately argues for the need to differentiate psychology from ethics and from dogmatics. in the introduction he expatiates interminably about the proper location of the investigation of anxiety in the spectrum of academic disciplines, and makes a case for psychology’s distinctiveness. on the other hand, his psychological investigation is by no means neutral or presuppositionless, and he freely admits this. He confesses that the present work will keep “in mente and before its eye the dogma of hereditary sin.”56 although vigilius exhibits neither ethical fervor nor religious zeal, he assumes the legitimacy of the categories of ethics and dogmatics, and these conceptual domains orient his research. He operates with the principle that his deliberations cannot violate the fundamental assumptions of ethics and dogmatics, both of which possess their own validity. in fact, the doctrine of original sin inspires and guides vigilius’ psychological observations in fundamental ways. although he critiques certain metaphysically informed theological theories that try to explain the doctrine of original sin, he is not interested in revising what he takes to be the essential features of the traditional doctrine. He accepts the basic passional themes suggested by the doctrinal concepts of Lutheran theology, including original sin and the atonement. accordingly, vigilius 55 56

SKS 4, 321 / CA, 14. ibid.

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expresses admiration for the smalkald articles’ “pious feeling that gives vent to its indignation over original sin,” and applauds its insistence that sin cannot be comprehended by human understanding.57 similarly, as long as the mood of earnest contrition is preserved, he commends the apology for the augsburg Confession for condemning original sin as “vice, sin, guilt, transgression.”58 For vigilius, Lutheran theology establishes boundaries concerning what can be said about anxiety. Like traditional Lutherans, vigilius insists that original sin involves a corruption of all human faculties (and not just the lower appetites), that it does involve personal guilt (and is not just a nonculpable debility), that it is universal in scope, and that it does infect the social environment. For example, the view that sin arises necessarily from a flaw in human nature is ruled out, for that would negate the self-ascription of guilt that any doctrine of sin requires. vigilius writes, “it is not in the interest of ethics to make all men except adam into concerned and interested spectators of guiltiness, but not participants in guilt.”59 therefore any metaphysical explanations that portray anxiety as necessarily producing sin must be resisted. Furthermore, a psychological explanation that can only explain why certain individuals are motivated to sin cannot be accepted. the universality of the need for atonement affirmed in Lutheran dogmatics implies the universality of sin, and this implies a universal psychological motivation.60 anxiety must be shown to be a universal human phenomenon. Lutheran theology, with its historic interest in the garden of eden story, also provides the major paradigm for vigilius’ analysis of anxiety. anxiety is interesting to vigilius in so far as it sheds light on the motivational roots of human sinfulness. In spite of his valorization of ordinary flesh-and-blood examples of psychological states, vigilius does not really begin his investigation with concrete, contemporary exemplars of anxiety. rather, he gets his cues from the archetypal Christian story of an individual’s fall into sin. He focuses on the example of adam in order to understand all subsequent sinners. by contemplating adam, vigilius hopes to grasp the motivations of all individuals. whatever is true of adam’s anxiety (apart from the fact that he did not live in a social environment already tainted with sin), is true of the anxiety of the rest of the race. only after clarifying the essential dynamics of Adam’s anxiety does Vigilius proceed to add further distinctions and refinements based on his observation of other people. From his analysis of adam, vigilius concludes that it is anxiety that is the motivational presupposition of sin. this anxiety is not ultimately stimulated by the prospect of a particular future event, action, or decision; it is not directed to a specific target. Its root source is not even the fear that one might decide to perform a reprehensible act. Vigilius explains, “Therefore, I must point out that it [anxiety] is altogether different from fear and similar concepts that refer to something definite.”61 rather, the ultimate object of anxiety is the simple possibility of doing anything at 57 58 59 60 61

SKS 4, 333 / CA, 26. SKS 4, 334 / CA, 27. SKS 4, 307–8 / CA, 36. SKS 4, 419 / CA, 117. SKS 4, 348 / CA, 42.

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all for which one could be held accountable. vigilius explains that “in the anxious possibility of being able,” adam really had “no conception of what he is able to do.”62 in other words, the real object of anxiety is the indeterminacy of the individual’s own freedom. anxiety is catalyzed by the recognition that one is able to act. this “power of being able” generates a profound psychological ambivalence, for it is simultaneously attractive and repellant. on the one hand, the consciousness of the power to initiate something is exhilarating, but, on the other hand, the prospect of responsibility for an unknown, open-ended future is intimidating. through one’s own action one might become something new and unanticipated, and quite possibly something unwanted. according to vigilius, the awareness of the power to act in a self-defining manner is triggered in the Adam and Eve story by the divine prohibition. in the biblical tale the “dizziness of freedom” is catalyzed by the recognition that a prohibition implies that the individual could either obey it or not obey it. of course, adam in his prelapsarian state of innocence did not really know what the categories good and evil meant; all he knew was that if he was commanded to do something, it must be possible for him to not do it. the prohibition alerts him to a cleavage between actuality and possibility, and a fissure between God’s will and his own agency. the immediate unity of god and the self was ruptured and the possibility of a diremption of the human and divine wills became evident. That rift, which afflicts all the progeny of Adam, is both terrifying and enticing. The tension between attraction and repulsion is almost unbearable. the unsettledness generates an inclination to terminate the vertigo by choosing to sin and thereby end the excruciating uncertainty. By reflecting on Adam’s situation in the Garden of Eden, Vigilius concludes that it is the very open-endedness of freedom that produces in all subsequent individuals the incentive to sin. the source of temptation can be found in the very structure of human freedom; one need not ascribe temptation to the intrinsic allures of the sensory world or to innate self-protective and self-aggrandizing instincts. Freedom is not a state of motivationless equilibrium, as if the individual simply were to flip a coin to determine a course of action. Freedom is not unmotivated liberum arbitrium operating from a position of indifference. as vigilius asserts, “Freedom is never in abstracto.”63 Volition is not uninfluenced by the passions and psychodynamics of human beings, and is particularly vulnerable to the motivations that arise from freedom itself. by insisting upon this point, vigilius was distancing himself from all Pelagianism and all identifications of freedom with abstract indeterminacy. But Vigilius is quite aware that in spite of the structural commonalities, significant disanalogies do differentiate adam’s context from our own. most importantly, adam was not afflicted with examples of sinfulness in his social context. Although anxiety has internal motivations in the very structure of human subjectivity, it is further exacerbated and specified by the presence of sin in the social environment. Unlike Adam, we find ourselves in an environment always already saturated with sin, and always already furnishing ample provocations for anxiety. we descendants of adam and eve behold examples of sin and tremble with the premonition that we could be 62 63

SKS 4, 315 / CA, 44. SKS 4, 389n / CA, 111n.

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that sinner. as we have seen, it is the capacity for imaginative solidarity with the plight of others that serves as the stimulus to this further anxiety. vigilius observes that when an individual sensitized to the power of possibility hears but one story of another person’s fall into sin, “in that very moment he is absolutely identified with the unfortunate man; he knows no finite evasion by which he may escape.”64 but this “objective anxiety” present in the history of the race is really a concretization and particularization of the essential anxiety that is part and parcel of creaturely freedom. if we were not anxious about possibility in general, we would not be anxious about the possibility of becoming a particular type of sinner. vigilius is always quick to add that this discovery of a dynamic within freedom itself that can motivate sin does not exculpate anyone from the guilt of actually becoming a sinner. He warns the reader that anxiety “no more explains the quantitative leap than it can justify it ethically.”65 Psychology can explore the inner dynamics of subjective conditions and even analyze the unresolved tensions that might motivate an action. but the actual movement from motivation to action cannot be observed or explained. sin must not be linked to anxiety so tightly that the reader can dodge the requirement to confess her own guilt. the temptation to engage in strategies of self-justification must be combated. The explanation of sin’s motivational preconditions must not be used for self-exoneration and the evasion of responsibility. therefore vigilius reiterates that the language of motivations is fundamentally different from the language of necessitating antecedent conditions; the identification of a motivation is not the same thing as a causal explanation. vigilius’ doctrinally informed interpretation of adam’s primal anxiety is a covert act of self-revelation. in sketching anxiety as a “sympathetic antipathy and an antipathetic sympathy” vigilius was inadvertently describing his own psyche.66 He himself instantiates that very same sympathetic antipathy and antipathetic sympathy about which he writes. because his purpose is to clarify the ways in which anxiety is the motivational precondition for sin, he seems to write in a detached fashion, maintaining the appropriate distance from the observed phenomenon. However, this observation of anxiety requires an antipathetic curiosity, and vigilius is drawn toward the phenomenon.67 He shows evident delight in relentlessly and minutely exploring all the intricacies of the possible forms of anxiety and their motivational complexities. vigilius’ fascination with his specimens of anxiety is almost voyeuristic. to him the example of adam and eve is obviously much more than an object of scholarly curiosity. this allegedly dispassionate detective manifests a rapt fascination with the prospect of sinfulness. as he himself asserted, his connecting link to the biblical story is the recognition that what has been done by any member of the human race makes explicit a possibility for every member of the race. as vigilius investigates anxiety more thoroughly, the indeterminate possibility becomes a more determinate something for him. by the conclusion of The Concept of Anxiety, vigilius has multiplied more examples of sinfulness, and has even begun to exhibit 64 65 66 67

SKS 4, 456–7 / CA, 158. SKS 4, 354 / CA, 49. SKS 4, 348 / CA, 42. SKS 4, 323 / CA, 323.

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a disturbing interest in the demonic. Perhaps unwittingly, he implicates himself by observing, “The more reflective one dares to posit anxiety, the easier it may seem for anxiety to pass over into guilt.”68 Who could posit anxiety more reflectively than vigilius himself? in a draft of this book he almost directly confesses the selfinvolving nature of his interest in adam, noting that “if the explanation of adam and his fall does not concern me as a fabula, quae de me narrator [a story that speaks about me], one might as well forget both Adam and the explanation.”69 as vanessa rumble has compellingly argued, the reader who has taken vigilius’ description of anxiety seriously should recognize that vigilius as an author exhibits the very anxiety about which he writes.70 vigilius’ anxiety infects his rhetoric and the structure of his text. the very mood of the book is anxious, in spite of vigilius’ calls for calm objectivity. vigilius even admits that “the mood of psychology is that of a discovering anxiety.”71 as the book proceeds, the rhetoric becomes more turgid and more discordant. For example, in one passage Vigilius first notes calmly, “Life offers opportunities to observe what has been suggested here,” and then confesses that “every thought trembles” and warns the reader that “anxiety sucks the strength out of repentance” and that “wrath conquers.”72 the tone oscillates between composure and urgency. in Chapter three vigilius violates his own self-avowed objectivity and excoriates the spiritlessness and superficiality of the denizens of Christendom.73 His paragraphs are peppered with angry denunciations. (it is no accident that Prefaces by nicholas notabene, which was published on the same day as The Concept of Anxiety, also mercilessly satirized the spiritlessness of Christendom.) vigilius strives valiantly to maintain his self-avowed detached standpoint, but he cannot quite manage to do it. vigilius’ anxiety is also evident in dissonant elements in the book’s structure and flow. These textual qualities undermine any calm, undialectical reading.74 The Concept of Anxiety presents itself as an academic deliberation, but the reader’s expectations of that genre are constantly frustrated.75 it is saturated with irony, digressions, polemics, and shifts in topic that are atypical of any textbook. vigilius’ disavowals not withstanding, by the fifth chapter this deliberation begins to sound positively sermonic. He fulminates that the individual is infinitely guilty, not just relatively guilty in particular quantifiable matters.76 Like a revivalist vigilius warns that perdition lives next door to every person. He even engages in direct attacks on his readers, asserting that anyone who pridefully claims that he has never been anxious is spiritless.77 His tone becomes ominous and threatening, as he announces SKS 4, 365 / CA, 60. Pap. v b 53:13 / CA, supplement, 186. 70 rumble, “the oracle’s ambiguity: Freedom and original sin in Kierkegaard’s The Concept of Anxiety,” pp. 605–25. 71 SKS 4, 287 / CA, 15. 72 SKS 4, 418 / CA, 116. 73 SKS 4, 396–9 / CA, 93–6. 74 mahn, Fortunate Fallibility: Kierkegaard and the Power of Sin, p. 56. 75 Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, pp. 83–107. 76 SKS 4, 460 / CA, 161. 77 SKS 4, 456 / CA, 157. 68 69

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that the verdict of a police court, which can only evaluate external matters, is not as fearsome as the verdict of guilt-driven anxiety.78 the reference to the police recalls vigilius’ description of psychologists (and therefore himself) as police agents; evidently anxiety is more terrifying than the interrogations of the psychological gendarmerie. with prophetic fervor vigilius warns, “and no grand inquisitor has such dreadful torments in readiness as anxiety has, and no secret agent knows as cunningly as anxiety how to attack his suspect in his weakest moment or to make alluring the trap in which he will be caught, and no discerning judge understands how to interrogate and examine the accused as does anxiety.”79 ironically, in this passage the psychologist no longer functions as a secret agent, for that role has been usurped by anxiety itself. anxiety, not the author who only drew attention to it, is the ultimate inquisitor. the author has lost control of his subject matter, which has begun to interrogate the reader. this should not happen in a scholarly investigation of subjective spirit; this deliberation has become no ordinary academic treatise. vigilius also violates genre expectations by directly proclaiming to his readers the message that “only he who passes through the anxiety of the possible is educated to have no anxiety.”80 Like Jesus’ parables, vigilius knows that this admonition “probably strikes many as obscure and foolish talk.”81 The mood of scientific scrutiny is displaced by the mood of homiletic edification. The reader is left in a state of disorientation and perhaps even dizziness, perplexed about the true nature and purpose of this unpredictable text. the dissonances in the text help to make the reader anxious. a tension between the book’s central themes also sabotages a non-anxious reading. on the one hand, the reader is constantly reminded that sin must not be confused with the negative, which is a category of logic, and cannot be dismissed as a necessary moment in the drama of human maturation. sin is personal culpability, and not an inevitable stage in the self-development of spirit. on the other hand, although vigilius assiduously protests that anxiety does not necessitate sin, and that for every human being sin is a culpable action, his language of “succumbing to dizziness” and “fainting” does not suggest an entirely intentional act.82 in regard to the individual’s fall into sin, he uses such phrases as “he sank in anxiety,” and “it was a foreign power that laid hold of him.”83 Here anxiety is portrayed so powerfully that sin seems to be almost inevitable, as arising quite naturally from anxiety. the anxiety seems to be so unbearable that a fall will most certainly occur. in this context the fall into sin is not a transition that can be explained by divvying up the causality, and ascribing some efficacy to human freedom and some efficacy to the impact of an already corrupt environment abounding in noxious examples of sin.84 the tension between the two themes cannot be reduced by claiming that the anxiety 78 79 80 81 82 83 84

SKS 4, 460 / CA, 161. SKS 4, 454–5 / CA, 155–6. SKS 4, 456 / CA, 157. ibid. SKS 4, 366 / CA, 61. SKS 4, 314 / CA, 43. mahn, Fortunate Fallibility: Kierkegaard and the Power of Sin, pp. 73–4.

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exacerbated by the social environment does not necessitate sin, but only renders it so likely that it seems to be inevitable. the tension cannot be resolved by claiming that anxiety is only a necessary but not a sufficient condition for sin.85 the mystery cannot be explained away by suggesting that motivational factors only influence the leap into sin without necessitating it.86 Psychological and social motivations on the one hand and individual freedom of choice on the other are not commensurable causal agencies that could be coordinated in a grand theory of human action. in spite of vigilius’ careful distinction of possibility and actuality, the oscillation of the themes of personal responsibility and overpowering internal temptation further foments anxiety in the reader. IV. Vigilius as Inadvertent Theologian although vigilius disavows any interest in being a religious writer, the anxiety that he evinces is perfectly congruent with the topic of original sin. the doctrine of original sin to which the psychological investigation points exhibits the same sort of anxiety-producing internal tension. The deep fissure in Vigilius’ text is more than the tension between dogmatics, with its verdict of universal and inevitable guilt, and psychology, with its analysis of predisposing but non-necessitating motivations. a serious tension has always been present within the doctrine of original sin itself, as vigilius well knows. as Kierkegaard noted in a journal entry, “that ‘hereditary sin’ is ‘guilt’ is the real paradox,” for “to inherit” is a category of nature, while “guilt” is a category of spirit.87 the augustinian doctrine of original sin that Lutherans had historically embraced always had described the individual’s general sinfulness as being both the product of the individual’s own culpable agency, and also as being an inevitable and universal spiritual disease. in traditional language, sin is both culpa and reatus.88 vigilius’ glance at the doctrine of original sin (a glance that immediately becomes a prolonged stare) reveals the internal tension between sinfulness construed as the individual’s own fault and sinfulness construed as an underlying debility. several paradoxical dualities had always characterized the traditional formulations of the doctrine of original sin. on the one hand, no individual can exculpate himself by protesting that sin is necessitated by antecedent conditions, but, on the other hand, sin is a state that endures through its own momentum. on the one hand, sin is an underlying condition that perpetuates itself and expresses itself in individual acts, but, on the other hand, the presence of this underlying corruption is also the individual’s own fault. on the one hand, sin has a supra-personal character, but, on the other hand, the guilt of sin is the individual’s own burden. gregory beabout, “does anxiety explain Hereditary sin?” Faith and Philosophy, vol. 11, no. 1, 1994, pp. 117–26. 86 Phillip L. Quinn, “does anxiety explain original sin?” Noûs, vol. 24, 1990, pp. 227– 44. 87 SKS 12, 250, nb12:178 / JP 2, 1530. 88 Lee C. barrett, “Kierkegaard’s anxiety and the augustinian doctrine of original sin,” in The Concept of Anxiety, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: macon university Press 1985 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 8), pp. 35–62. 85

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vigilius was well aware of these tensions in the traditional doctrine and expressed them overtly. He observes that sin is “a presupposition that goes beyond the individual to encompass humanity as a whole,” and is not something that “belongs only accidentally to the accidental individual.”89 vigilius notes that hereditary sin is the presupposition of actual sinfulness.90 He assumes the traditional belief in the universality of sin, asserting that “every man looses innocence.”91 but, like the historic doctrine, he also insists that the individual’s fall into sin is just as much a responsible and culpable action as was adam’s lapse. vigilius’ critique of some historic speculative attempts to “explain” and integrate the co-presence of personal guilt and underlying corruption were motivated by his desire to preserve the tension. in various formulations of the doctrine of original sin, the universality and inevitability of the individual’s corruption had been ascribed to biological transmission, and the individual’s guilt had been explained as being due to the individual’s participation in adam’s original fall, either by platonically sharing in adam’s ideal of human nature, or by being seminally present in adam’s loins, or by covenantally identifying with adam as humanity’s legal representative and federal head of the race. unfortunately, all of these fantastic theories tended to minimize the individual’s responsibility for sin by appealing to metaphysical and supernatural factors beyond the realm of the individual’s own religious development. one way or another, these theological models all converted the doctrine of original sin’s descriptive claim that all people have corrupt hearts, into some kind of deterministic explanation of this universal corruption based on the individual’s relation to adam. the suggestion that we are corrupt and guilty because of our relation to adam would tend to exculpate subsequent individuals and shift all the blame to Adam. Reflecting on the dangers of some of these formulations, vigilius concludes, “therefore dogmatics must not explain hereditary sin but rather explain it by presupposing it, like that vortex about which greek speculation had so much to say.”92 in explicating the doctrine of original sin, vigilius seeks to maximize the implicit tension between the reminder that sin is the individual’s own responsibility, and the exposé of sin’s inevitability and overwhelming power. true to the basic passional dynamics of the doctrine, vigilius simply juxtaposes the language of personal accountability and the language of bondage to motivational corruption without attempting to synthesize them. the two sorts of language, both inscribed in the doctrine itself, cannot be neatly integrated or coordinated. the reader must assume responsibility for sin, but at the same time dread it as a debilitating corruption. in vigilius’ hands a doctrinal exposition becomes a goad to increasingly heightened anxiety. V. Vigilius as Inadvertent Evangelist as we have seen, the tensions in all the aspects of vigilius’ authorial practice, including his voice, the genre expectations, the psychological subject matter, and 89 90 91 92

SKS 4, 326 / CA, 19. SKS 4, 326–7 / CA, 19. SKS 4, 342 / CA, 35. SKS 4, 327 / CA, 20.

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the doctrinal framework, combine to excite in the reader the anxiety about which he writes. all of these anxiety-producing features of his text are functions of the more basic fact that vigilius, like the reader, is anxiously attempting to escape from anxiety. vigilius’ own much-vaunted putative objectivity is precisely the evasion of anxiety that he had identified in metaphysical speculation. Ironically, his attempt to occupy a neutral third-person perspective fits his own definition of spiritlessness. vigilius seems to think that observational detachment is appropriate for psychology, although it is not at all apt for dogmatics and ethics. However, the only difference between his own objectivity and that of the speculative metaphysicians is that he seeks to avoid any necessitarian language, and that he scrupulously respects the integrity of distinguishable conceptual domains. but even these amendments do not qualitatively differentiate his attempted spectator stance from the sensibility of those whom he critiques. vigilius, like the age he criticizes, is engaging in wholesale anxiety denial even as he writes about it. because of this denial, the tensions that disrupt vigilius’ position are not religiously neutral. the stance of the observer is not just a strategic mistake on vigilius’ part. it is more than an unfortunate inconsistency or a failure to appreciate the implications of his own strictures about the importance of a book’s mood. rather, vigilius’ problem is ethical and religious. He has deliberately chosen to adopt the spectator’s perspective and to observe life rather than to act in it.93 His text is an exercise in the evasion of commitment, action, and repentance. His authorial activity is an unsuccessful attempt to escape responsibility by trying to remain fixated on the fancifully hypostasized period that precedes action, choice, and the fall into sin. as such, vigilius in his own person manifests the way that anxiety motivates sin. The power of this text is that Vigilius clarifies the phenomenon of anxiety by instantiating it and evoking it, not just by describing it. the reader’s own interaction with vigilius, if the reader engages the text earnestly, should enable the reader to imaginatively experience the psychological dynamics that make sin possible. ideally, the reader should empathically identify with vigilius, just as vigilius did with his specimens, and feel the attraction/repulsion of responsibility. vigilius is standing on the vertiginous brink, staring into the abyss, and vainly trying to back away from the edge. used as a mirror, the spectacle of vigilius’ dizziness can revive the somnolent anxiety that vigilius believes is latent within the reader’s heart.94 as Kierkegaard had accurately claimed in a journal entry, vigilius is indeed the individuality that corresponds to the book’s theme.95 vigilius’ persona is an emblem and an instantiation of the very malaise that he detected in his contemporaries. according to vigilius himself, the problem with his age is that the citizens of Christendom have been attempting to escape from anxiety and the consciousness of responsibility and guilt. the book potentially serves as a pedagogy in anxiety for a culture engaged in flight and evasion. In a milieu that repressed the daunting prospect of responsibility for one’s own life, anxiety would rumble, “the oracle’s ambiguity: Freedom and original sin in Kierkegaard’s The Concept of Anxiety,” p. 609. 94 ibid., p. 617. 95 SKS 9, 19 / WL, 11–12. 93

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not have been stirred up by a direct admonition to repent of sin. if the author had simply called for repentance or personally expressed the contrition appropriate to sin, the intended audience would not have felt the desired spiritual sting, for the passional precondition, the vertiginous awareness of existentially momentous possibilities, was not present. Therefore it is fitting that Vigilius exhibits an anxiety that is contagious. Here the right authorial voice has been used to match the appropriate pathos with a particular concept. the hoped-for impact of this coincidence of form and content is that the reader will be jolted into a sense of responsibility for the reader’s own life. the conclusion of the book suggests that anxiety is not to be excited for its own sake, as if it were an intrinsically valuable phenomenon. according to vigilius, this anxious self-concern for the quality of one’s own life is desirable because it is a presupposition of authentic faith. in this sense, the recognition and cultivation of anxiety can function as a propaedeutic for faith.96 this theme, in fact, dominates the book’s final chapter. Here Vigilius’ voice changes, and he begins to sound like an indirect evangelist, whose stance of psychological distance was an incognito. vigilius even rhapsodizes, “whoever has learned to be anxious in the right way has learned the ultimate.”97 anxiety leads to the discovery of guilt, and the recognition of guilt leads to the awareness of the need for grace. vigilius concludes, “therefore he who in relation to guilt is educated by anxiety will rest only in the atonement.”98 this is a variation on the standard Lutheran theme of the “second use of the law,” the employment of god’s commandments to stimulate a sense of contrition and a yearning for forgiveness. vigilius, in spite of his lack of authorization, appears to perform the function of an evangelist in prodding the individual to recognize her need for grace. of course, given the elusiveness of vigilius, the reader is left with the anxiety-filled interpretive burden of making sense of Vigilius’ authorial oscillations.

96 97 98

SKS 4, 454–61 / CA, 155–62. SKS 4, 454 / CA, 155. SKS 4, 461 / CA, 162.

bibliography arbaugh, g.e. and g.b., Kierkegaard’s Authorship, rock island, illinois: augustana College Library Press 1967, pp. 168–9. axt-Piscalar, Christine, “Julius müller: Parallels in the doctrines of sin and Freedom,” in Kierkegaard and his German Contemporaries, tome ii, Theology, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2007 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception, and Resources, vol. 6), pp. 151–5. barrett, Lee C., “Kierkegaard’s anxiety and the augustinian doctrine of original sin,” in International Kierkegaard Commentary: The Concept of Anxiety, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: macon university Press 1985, vol. 8, pp. 35–62. — Kierkegaard, nashville: abington 2010, pp. 53–56. beabout, gregory r., “does anxiety explain Hereditary sin?” Faith and Philosophy, vol. 11, no. 1, 1994, pp. 117–26. — Freedom and Its Misuses: Kierkegaard on Anxiety and Despair, milwaukee: marquette university Press 1996, p. 22. bohlen, torsten, Kierkegaard’s dogmatiska åskådning i dess historiska sammanhang, stockholm: diakonistyrrelses Förlag 1925, pp. 205–24; pp. 256–98. Cole, J. Preston, The Problematic Self in Kierkegaard and Freud, new Haven: yale university Press 1971, pp. 1–254. Come, arnold, Kierkegaard as Theologian: Recovering Myself, montreal and Kingston: mcgill-Queens university Press 1997, pp. 155–91. dunning, stephen, “Kierkegaard’s systematic analysis of anxiety,” in The Concept of Anxiety, ed. by robert Perkins, macon, georgia: macon university Press 1985 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 8), pp. 7–33. dupré, Louis, Kierkegaard as Theologian, new york: sheed and ward 1963, pp. 39–70. elrod, John, Being and Existence in Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Works, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1972, pp. 29–71. Ferreira, m. Jamie, Kierkegaard, oxford: wiley-blackwell 2009, pp. 78–89. grøn, arne, The Concept of Anxiety in Søren Kierkegaard, trans. by Jeanette b. Knox, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2008, pp. 1–63. Hamilton, Kenneth, “man: anxious or guilty? a second Look at Kierkegaard’s Concept of Dread,” in Essays on Kierkegaard, ed. by Jerry H. gill, minneapolis: burgess 1969, pp. 169–74. Kirkconnell, w. glenn, Kierkegaard on Sin and Salvation: From Philosophical Fragments through the two ages, new york: Continuum 2010, pp. 40–57. mahn, Jason, Fortunate Fallibility: Kierkegaard and the Power of Sin, oxford: oxford university Press 2011, p. 56.

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marino, gordon, “anxiety in The Concept of Anxiety,” in The Cambridge Companion to Kierkegaard, ed. by alastair Hannay and gordon d. marino, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 1998, pp. 308–26. mcCarthy, vincent, The Phenomenology of Moods in Kierkegaard, the Hague: martinus nijhoff 1978, pp. 33–52. nelson, Christopher, “soundings of silence: the Lily, the bird, and the dark Knight of the soul in the writings of søren Kierkegaard,” in Without Authority, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2007 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 18), pp. 49–52. nordentoft, Kresten, Kierkegaard’s Psychology, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Pittsburgh: duquesne university Press 1978, pp. 168–74. Poole, roger, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, pp. 83–107. Quinn, Phillip L., “does anxiety explain original sin?” Noûs, vol. 24, 1990, pp. 227–44. rumble, vanessa, “the oracle’s ambiguity: Freedom and original sin in Kierkegaard’s The Concept of Anxiety,” Soundings, vol. 75, no. 4, 1992, pp. 605–25. schulz, Heiko, “rosenkranz: traces of Hegelian Psychology and theology,” in Kierkegaard and his German Contemporaries, tome ii, Theology, ed. by Jon stewart, aldershot: ashgate 2007 (Kierkegaard Research: Sources, Reception, and Resources, vol. 6), pp. 181–94. stewart, Jon, Kierkegaard’s Relations to Hegel Reconsidered, new york and Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2003, pp. 378–418. taylor, mark, Kierkegaard’s Pseudonymous Authorship, Princeton: Princeton university Press 1975, pp. 268–73. walsh, sylvia, Living Poetically: Kierkegaard’s Existential Aesthetics, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1994, pp. 127–9; pp. 151–63. — Kierkegaard: Thinking Christianly in an Existential Mode, oxford: oxford university Press 2009, pp. 80–96. westfall, Joseph, The Kierkegaardian Author: Authorship and Performance in Kierkegaard’s Literary and Dramatic Criticism, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2007 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 15), pp. 223–77.

william afham: the Line by which an ape may become an apostle mariana alessandri

i am like the line with the arithmetic problem above and the answer below—who cares about the line?1

but who, then, is william afham? His name appears only twice in Kierkegaard’s Samlede Værker: once on the title page of “In Vino Veritas,” which is the first of three parts of Stages on Life’s Way, and once at the end of the Concluding Unscientific Postscript in “a First and Last explanation,” where Kierkegaard takes responsibility for the pseudonyms.2 the title page of the danish version of Stages calls “in vino veritas” a recollection efterfortalt, “related” or, more literally, “told afterwards,” by william Afham. in danish, Af-ham means “of him” or “by him,” but this tells us nothing about the identity of “him,” other than that he is one of the various authors whose study gets “stitched together” with others, forwarded to the press, and published by Hilarius bookbinder.3 bookbinder claims to have found a small package of handwritten papers leftover from a man of letters who had hired him several years before to bind “a considerable number of books,” but who had died in the meantime.4 no one knows how “in vino veritas” got from afham to the man of letters. a large portion of this package from the man of letters was written in elegant calligraphy, which bookbinder would give to his children to practice penmanship, until he hired a young graduate student to tutor his son, Hans. this young man, who “abandoned studying to be a pastor since he found out that he was an esthete and a poet,” discovered the papers and then told bookbinder that the book (or more precisely in his opinion, several books by several authors) would be “worth its weight in gold” if it “[came] into

SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. SKS 7, 569–73 / CUP1, 625–30. 3 SKS 6, 12 / SLW, 4. amy Laura Hall interprets afham’s name as “by himself,” which is less a literal rendering and more a spiritual interpolation. see amy Laura Hall, “stages on the wrong way: Love and the other in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way and Works of Love,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), p. 9. 4 SKS 6, 11 / SLW, 3. 1 2

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the right hands.”5 bookbinder consequently published the collection, but it remains unclear whether it ever did come into the right hands.6 “In Vino Veritas” consists of Afham’s recollection of a banquet in which five men give speeches about women. afham claims to have participated in the banquet without being a participant. not only he did not give a speech (or at least he does not recollect any such speech), but he also doubts that the banquet was ever held, which goes to show that for afham, a recollection is a poetic recreation and not a report of historical events. it is also more told than written. afham is a storyteller (en fortӕller) and a recollector (en erindrer), but his character is otherwise mysterious. afham only adds to this mystery by the strange way that he draws attention to himself at the end of his recollection: but who, then, am i? Let no one ask about that. if it did not occur to anyone to ask before, then i am saved, for now i am over the worst of it. moreover, i am not worth asking about, for i am the least of all, and people make me very bashful by asking this question. i am pure being and thus almost less than nothing. i am the pure being that is everywhere present but yet not noticeable, for i am continually being annulled. i am like the line with the arithmetic problem above and the answer below—who cares about the line? by myself, i am capable of nothing at all, for even the idea of tricking Victor [Eremita] out of the manuscript was not my own notion, but the very notion according to which i borrowed the manuscript, as thieves put it, was in fact borrowed from victor. now, in publishing the manuscript, i again am nothing at all, for the manuscript belongs to the Judge [William], and in my nothingness I as publisher am only like a nemesis upon victor, who presumably thought he had the right to publish it.7

why does afham become bashful (undseelig) when people ask who he is? Or more importantly, who is asking in the first place? The only person asking about the identity of afham at this late point in his narrative is afham; he tempts us to ask precisely by telling us not to. but who, then, is william afham? this present study is about william’s afham’s role as a Kierkegaardian polynym,8 and consists of three goals. My first goal is to defy Afham and make him bashful— although this may be precisely what he wants—by asking about him personally. about afham’s recollection of the banquet, much has been written; about afham the person, little. but even his name—william “of-him”—tempts us to wonder whom the “him” refers to, and why he shares first names with another Kierkegaardian SKS 6, 13 / SLW, 5. For more on the compilation of Stages, see elisabete sousa’s entry on Hilarius bookbinder in this volume. 7 SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. 8 Kierkegaard uses both terms—polynymity and pseudonymity—to describe his authorship in his “a First and Last explanation,” in SKS 7, 569 / CUP1, 625. while the word pseudonymity has been used more frequently by subsequent scholars to describe Kierkegaard’s authorship, polynymity has the linguistic advantage of being less prejudiced when it comes to judging the meaning of an authorship utilizing so many names. more importantly, the functions i am attributing to afham apply generally to the whole Kierkegaardian troupe, including Kierkegaard himself. thus, i consider afham more as a polynym than as a pseudonym. 5 6

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pseudonym: Judge william, whose manuscript afham steals and intends to publish along with his own. in short, afham’s name asks us to ask about him, and his weak suggestion that we not ask looks like the kind of bait that inquisitive fish like best.9 the second goal of this article is to underscore afham’s invocations of Plato in order to learn something about who afham is. if afham’s reformulation of the socratic theme of recollection determines that recollection is more recreation than re-creation (as he suggests by retreating to the “nook of eight Paths” in the forest to do his recollecting), then its value lies more in artistry than in historicity. any reader who sticks around attentively for all of “in vino veritas” will learn that, for afham, the creation is more important than the creator. recollections can be more fictive than factual and are certainly more valuable (he might even say more real) than their storytellers. as the vehicle, afham is right to say that he is “almost less than nothing.” recollections endure, even as their authors are “continually being annulled.” indeed, on this reading afham is “not worth asking about.”10 and yet, without afham’s recollection of a banquet that may never have taken place, there would be no “in vino veritas” and therefore no Stages on Life’s Way. the third and final goal of this essay therefore doubts the insignificance of Afham’s identity and asks for a second time: who, then, is William Afham? the bizarre image that afham provides of himself as the line between the problem and the answer helps shed light on his three functions as a Kierkegaardian polynym: (1) afham separates the inquisitive readers from the attentive ones, (2) afham illuminates the reader qua reader, and (3) afham is the condition for the possibility of transformation. Finally, i want to suggest that reading afham as the line (as indicated in the quotation at the beginning of this article) makes him indispensable, but dialectically so. as the occasion for transformation he is indispensable, but without a reader he is “almost less than nothing.”11 daniel berthold suggests that afham is being earnest when he asks that we not ask about him. berthold calls this an example of Kierkegaard’s “indirect communication,” the goal of which is to make each reader “stand alone” without the help of the author. Perhaps, but drawing attention to oneself in order to be left alone seems ineffective. if indirect communication means that the author is irrelevant to the text, then the entire cast of pseudonyms would be embarrassed to find out about this volume, which puts them under the microscope instead of allowing them to go unnoticed. again, creating a cast like Kierkegaard’s seems like an ineffective way to distance oneself from the text. see daniel berthold, “Kierkegaard’s seductions: the ethics of authorship,” MLN: Modern Language Notes, vol. 120, no. 5, 2005, p. 1058. 10 People often take this to be a “delightful spoof” of Hegel, but i think it is also meant to be accurate when understood in the way i am suggesting. For examples of commentators who think it is merely a spoof, see stephen Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City, new york: anchor books 1972, p. 216; andrew J. burgess, “the relation of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way to Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, p. 279. 11 the line recalls two other similar Kierkegaardian images: the hyphen and the dash. in Works of Love, Kierkegaard claims that a hyphen sticks to a word in the way “that the one who loves—abides” (SKS 9, 303–4 / WL, 305–6; SKS 9, 275 / WL, 227). He also claims that the dash changes roles depending on who comes after it. in “ ‘guilty?’/’not guilty?’ ” Quidam describes a tense moment as “like the hyphen or dash between two words” (SKS 6, 264–5 / SLW, 330). 9

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I. Who, then, is William Afham? Let us first ask about Afham, beginning with logistical questions about his role in Stages so that we may understand his role in Kierkegaard’s polynymity. afham takes credit for publishing his own “in vino veritas” as well as the Judge’s manuscript, “Some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections.” The latter he claims to have stolen from Victor Eremita, after first stealing the very idea to steal from Victor eremita, who had already stolen the manuscript from the Judge’s writing desk. Afham describes the scene as follows: “As [Eremita] bent his arm and already had his hand with the manuscript half in his pocket, i slipped it away.”12 this scene raises at least three questions, the second of which raises its own set of questions. First, and most obviously, how does anyone manage to “slip” or “sneak” (listed) an entire manuscript away from someone whose hand is holding it halfway in his pocket? second, why does afham take credit for publishing the Judge’s reflections, when we know that it was Hilarious Bookbinder who “stitched the books together” and published them? is afham really the bookbinder, a pseudonym with a pseudonym? if not, how did the manuscript get out of afham’s hands? did someone else “borrow” (laant) it from him, as he “borrowed” it from eremita, as eremita “borrowed” it from the Judge? did afham intend to publish his recollection alongside the Judge’s reflections under the title The Wrong and the Right?13 is afham aware of Frater taciturnus? does he know that his book got co-opted and stitched together with “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” in other words, does he even know that his book is located inside another book? third, how does afham recollect “in vino veritas”? was he at the symposium, or is he fabricating it, as he implies? if he is fabricating it, then afham turns out to be quite important in the Kierkegaardian authorship, because it would suggest that he created the characters who were there, and who appear in other Kierkegaardian works. it would mean that afham had some role in writing or recollecting Repetition, which stars the young man and Constantin Constantius as well as Either/Or, which stars Johannes the seducer and Judge william, and is edited by victor eremita. the Fashion designer would also be a product of afham’s imagination since he does not appear anywhere else in the Kierkegaardian corpus except in the journals and papers. Has afham read (or authored) these too? is he or does he know søren Kierkegaard? Clearly, there is a whole list of people to whom the “him” of “of-him” might refer. Let us consider each of the possibilities in turn, to afham’s disappointment, or delight. is “recollection’s unhappy Lover” him? in the preface to “in vino veritas,” afham announces his plan to recollect the banquet: “i know very well that i shall not soon forget that banquet in which i participated without being a participant.”14 It is difficult to imagine a symposium in which five men participate and one does not. where was afham while the symposium was happening? did the others know he was there? did afham give a speech but fail to recollect it? in an early sketch of the work 12 13 14

SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. see below for my discussion of The Wrong and the Right. SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 15.

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by Kierkegaard, there were originally seven speeches by seven characters, including “recollection’s unhappy Lover.”15 However, “in vino veritas” has no character called “recollection’s unhappy Love.” afham is clearly a lover of recollection, but we do not have sufficient evidence to judge him happy or unhappy. Thus, while there is a chance that afham is “recollection’s unhappy Lover,” there is little evidence for making the identification, but it is not impossible. is Judge william him? this does not seem plausible, although the connection of the name william is hard to ignore, since as Kierkegaard himself admits, “it would have been so very easy to choose other names.”16 Judge william is referred to as “b” in Either/Or, and he refers to himself as “a married man” on the title page to his “Some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections.” In addition, Judge William’s “Reflections” and William Afham’s “In Vino Veritas” were originally supposed to appear apart from “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” in a volume titled The Wrong and the Right.17 as such, the structure of The Wrong and the Right would parallel the structure found in Either/Or, with an ethical treatise following an aesthetic one.18 if the two williams in The Wrong and the Right are identical, however, it would suggest that Judge william (b) might be identical to a in Either/ Or. in other words, if william afham is Judge william in Stages, then perhaps a is Judge william in Either/Or. This configuration would make both Either/Or and Stages look like repetitions of Repetition, where the young man is really Constantin Constantius, and also “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?,’ ” where Quidam is really (an “imaginary construction” of) Frater taciturnus. as interesting as this prospect may be, and as many names as Judge william goes by, the claim that afham is one of them runs into a major problem. the Judge and afham obviously share the Christian name “william,” but if afham were identical with the Judge, then it would be very difficult to explain how he stole his own manuscript from Victor Eremita, or how he could be at the banquet and simultaneously in the arbor having tea with his wife, Pap. v b 172:1 / SLW, supplement, 534. SKS 18, 257, JJ:356 / JP 5, 5823. in general, i believe that Kierkegaard is referring to reusing characters from other works, but the ambiguity makes it at least possible to read this phrase as referring to afham’s name, “william.” 17 SLW, viii. 18 recollection’s lover calls recollection an “art,” but does that necessarily make him an aesthete? do the three parts of Stages necessarily correspond to the aesthetic, ethical, and religious existence spheres? Climacus thinks they do, but in afham’s case at least, there are hints that he may not be an aesthete. For example, afham sounds like an ethical person in this passage: “recollection wants to maintain for a person the eternal continuity in life and assure him that his earthly existence remains uno tenore [uninterrupted], one breath, and expressible in one breath…the condition for man’s immortality is that life is uno tenore” (SKS 6, 18 / SLW, 10). in Either/Or the ethical realm is where an individual becomes a self, and Judge william defines the ethical project as making one’s life a coherent story instead of a list of unrelated events. The success of the ethical realm is the level to which the individual becomes unified and can narrate a story of a consistent life, that is, be his own “editor” (en Redacteur) (SKS 3, 248 / EO2, 260). afham also sounds religious when he declares that recollection makes life strenuous (anstrængende), which is characteristic of the religious life, according to Johannes Climacus in Postscript. see SKS 6, 18 / SLW, 10 and SKS 7, 164 / CUP1, 179. 15 16

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not to mention how or why his tone would shift so much from “in vino veritas” to “Some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections.” Ultimately, the shared name seems to be a mere coincidence, but it is not impossible that they are the same person. Is Hilarius Bookbinder him? Bookbinder finds it necessary to tell us the story of the book’s acquisition, and he reminds us repeatedly that he “stitched the papers together.” indeed, bookbinder denies having written the book (thus denying identification with Afham): “That a bookbinder would aspire to be an author could only arouse understandable resentment in the literary world.”19 instead, he asks us to believe that, after having found these papers previously given to him by a nowdead man of letters, it took a young scholar with an eye to things philosophical and literary to inform him of the worth of the papers and give him the idea that they were written by multiple authors. afham seems to know nothing about “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” as suggested by the fact that he refers to the manuscript that contains his recollections and the Judge’s reflections in the singular. Bookbinder is the only one who knows about all three treatises.20 Hilarious bookbinder does not seem to be william afham, but it is not impossible. is the author of Stages on Life’s Way him? Johannes Climacus believes that Stages was written by one author, and he claims that if the author would have approached him, Climacus would have advised him against “calling attention to an earlier work by using familiar names,” since that would constitute a kind of repetition of the first book.21 since it is afham who “precariously prompts the recollection” of these familiar names, then perhaps afham is the single author Climacus refers to. repetition is risky, says Climacus, since an inquisitive reader will wearily conclude “it is just the same as Either/Or,” and toss the book aside.22 Climacus reads Stages as though it is one book instead of two or three, and as though it is written by one author who has won an “indirect victory” over those who would toss it aside.23 Climacus credits the author of Stages with risking a repetition of Either/Or by prompting a recollection of it. of course for Climacus and, for the author of Stages on Climacus’ interpretation, SKS 6, 14 / SLW, 6. as the Hongs point out, “the use of the singular ‘manuscript’ by william afham may also be a token of the original independent character of the first half of Stages, a view confirmed by Hilarius Bookbinder’s statement about publishing not one book but several” (SLW, ix). 21 SKS 7, 258 / CUP1, 284. 22 SKS 7, 259–60 / CUP1, 285–6. Judge william is the pseudonymous author whom Climacus credits with actually attempting a repetition. as afham recollects and Climacus paraphrases, Constantin Constantius refused to give a banquet again after having already given one, and victor eremita refused to admire mozart again as he once did. see SKS 7, 259 / CUP1, 284. 23 a draft of the preface to “in vino veritas” from 1844 is found in Kierkegaard’s papers, with the following phrase serving an epigraph: “Rapport ad se ipsum [Report to himself],” which would match what is written on two of a’s loose papers in Either/Or, according to victor eremita. see Pap. v b 155 / SLW, supplement, 517 and SKS 2, 15 / EO1, 8. in the published version of “in vino veritas,” this phrase has been replaced by the epigraph written by Lichtenberg that i discuss below. 19 20

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the difference between Either/Or and Stages is only decipherable by an attentive reader. Having tossed the book aside, inquisitive readers who only “peered in” will be weeded out, leaving the attentive readers to appreciate the differences between the two works, such as victor eremita’s becoming an existing individual instead of only an editor, and the Judge’s preoccupation with marriage from a different angle.24 Lastly, if afham is the author of Stages, then he would be, if not the author of, then at least heavily involved in the writing of Either/Or and Repetition. given that Kierkegaard only mentions afham’s name four times between the authorship and the journals and papers, it seems unlikely that afham is the (sole) author of Stages, although it is not impossible. Finally, is søren Kierkegaard him? to think through this question it is helpful to consult the journals and papers and the Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions. although his journals and papers tell us quite a bit about Stages, Kierkegaard only mentions afham twice, both in the same 1845 passage: william afham’s part (in Stages) is so deceptively contrived that it is praise and high distinction to have stupid fussbudgets pass trivial judgment on it and say that it is the same old thing. yes, that is just the trick. i never forget the anxiety i myself felt about not being able to achieve what i had once accomplished, and yet it would have been so very easy to choose other names. this is also the reason afham states that Constantius said that never again would he arrange a banquet, and victor eremita, that he would never again speak admiringly of don giovanni. but the Judge declares that he can keep on repeating.25

given that Stages was published on april 30 of that year, it is likely that Kierkegaard wrote this entry after writing the book. Climacus elaborates on how a trick like using the same characters from other pseudonymous works would work to keep the fussbudgets at bay: whereas the inquisitive reader is put off by its [Stages] being the same [as Either/Or]… the attentive reader is made more rigorous in his demands because there is nothing enticing at all, nothing diverting, no embellishments, no particulars pertaining to the

SKS 7, 261–2 / CUP1, 286–7. bookbinder’s having attached “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” to the end of the book years later constitutes the either/or that Climacus mentions in Postscript—either The Wrong and the Right or “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” (that is, either the aesthetic-ethical or the religious). the book was originally an either/or between the aesthetic (Afham’s recollections) and the ethical (the Judge’s reflections), like Either/Or. this would match the either/or presented in The Point of View for My Work as an Author, which treats whether Kierkegaard’s authorship was aesthetic or religious. For more scholarship that challenges a clean reading of the stages, see burgess, “the relation of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way to Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions,” p. 271; Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” p. 204. 25 SKS 18, 257, JJ:356 / JP 5, 5823. one wonders if this entry was written in the voice of Climacus (making Climacus, and not Kierkegaard, the “i” who experienced anxiety at not being able to achieve what he once accomplished), or if it represents a candid Kierkegaardian moment. 24

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on Kierkegaard’s reading, afham is using “in vino veritas” to keep inquisitive readers out and attentive readers in. this still does not answer the question about whether afham is Kierkegaard; it cannot be conclusively answered by looking at Kierkegaard’s journals and papers. the fact that they were published one day apart suggests that Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions and Stages are related, as does the fact that each is comprised of three parts. since the middle sections of both works are about marriage, it would make sense that the middle portions are companion pieces. that leaves the two remaining discourses—“on the occasion of a Confession” and “at a graveside”—as in some way related to “in vino veritas” and “ ‘guilty?’/‘not guilty?’ ” the Hongs suggest that the theme of stillness running through “on the occasion of a Confession” acts as a counterbalance to the mood of revelry in “in vino veritas,” making them companion pieces.27 However, the Hongs later follow emanuel Hirsch by suggesting that “in vino veritas” is better suited to complement “at a graveside,” despite their inverse locations.28 indeed, both share the theme of recollection, which is afham’s explicit project. should we then conclude that afham is Kierkegaard? of course, at one level we know that Kierkegaard is the person behind all his pen names, including afham. given that this makes Kierkegaard an author of many authors, it is interesting to note that the authors of “at a graveside” and “in vino veritas” both subtly ask what it means to be an author. “at a graveside” is repeatedly addressed to a listener instead of a reader, and “in vino veritas” is technically related (efterfortalt), not written, by afham. this contrasts with the other parts of Stages on Life’s Way that are simply described as being “by” (af) their authors: Judge william and Frater taciturnus. in contrast, william afham’s name appears after the words “related by” (efterfortalt af), rendering the whole phrase: “related by by-him.” while the single word “by” commonly suggests writing, the words “related by” suggest telling. in sum, afham is situated at the end of a long chain of authors and editors (see the chart in the appendix for a visual representation). as part of this chain of polynyms, his place in Kierkegaard’s authorship cannot be made clear solely by inquiring into afham’s identity in relation to the other pseudonyms. Perhaps his recollection will tell us something more conclusive about who william afham is.

SKS 7, 259–60 / CUP1, 285. TD, x. 28 SLW, xi. andrew burgess points out that the Hongs ultimately abandoned their approval of Hirsch’s proposal. burgess’ own reading is that both proposals are ultimately unconvincing, and he points out that the fact that Stages did not originally have three parts might invalidate any parallelism. burgess, “the relation of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way to Three Discourses on Imagined Occasions,” p. 268. 26 27

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II. Recollection Questions of authorial identity and intent plague readers of both Plato and Kierkegaard. Indeed, Plato was one of the first authors to write convoluted philosophical dialogues with multiple characters.29 these could easily have been the inspiration for Kierkegaard’s love of “Chinese puzzle boxes,” which victor eremita describes as a literary device whereby “one author becomes enclosed within the other.”30 or to borrow a phrase directly from Kierkegaard, Plato’s dialogues are “deceptively contrived” in ways similar to Stages.31 asking whether to credit Kierkegaard or afham with the recollection of the banquet is thus similar to asking whether to credit Plato or aristodemus with the recollection of the Symposium. before paying homage to Plato’s dialogue on love, afham dwells on the topic of recollection, another Platonic theme. among all of Kierkegaard’s polynyms, afham is recollection’s “champion” and perhaps even its “theorist,” as Louis mackey claims.32 afham is so enamored with recollection that before presenting his recollection of the banquet that makes up “in vino veritas,” he presents a Preface or “Prerecollection” (Forerindring) about the process of recollecting by way of yet another recollection.33 In other words, Afham first tells us about recollection (by way of a recollection) before telling us the recollection that we have been promised. i would like to suggest that the former tells us more about afham than the latter. afham starts by suggesting that recollecting itself is more important than the content of what is recollected. recollection (Erindring) “is the power to distance, to place at a distance.” Contrary to the way we usually think about it, recollection is virtually unaided by memory (hukommelse), which “merely fluctuates between remembering correctly and remembering incorrectly.”34 For afham, recollections are not accurate representations of past events. thus, old people are able to recollect despite (or perhaps even thanks to) their inability to remember, while young people may be able to remember but are often too immature to recollect.35 “recollection is a wine-press,” says afham, suggesting that there is an aging process involved and that care must be taken when extracting from the past. indeed, faithfulness to the past

29 see Figures a and b in the appendix for a comparison of the multiple subjects involved in Stages and Symposium. 30 SKS 2, 16 / EO1, 9. 31 SKS 18, 257, JJ:356 / JP 5, 5823. 32 Louis mackey argues that afham is “one at heart with a, the aboriginal poet” from Either/Or. thus, mackey analyzes recollection through a thoroughly aesthetic lens. i discuss the issue of afham’s place in the Kierkegaardian existence spheres above. see Louis mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 16–18. 33 in Latin, “preface” is related to a telling: prefacio. etymologically then, Forerindring connotes an “utterance before the recollection.” 34 SKS 6, 20 / SLW, 13. 35 SKS 6, 17–21 / SLW, 10–13. in an earlier draft, afham had included, “his soul becomes like his eyes.” Even though this was left out of the final version, it is a helpful image (Pap. v b 155 / SLW, supplement, 519).

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matters less than artistry, so recollection “takes an acquaintance with contrasting moods, situations, and surroundings.”36 with respect to the banquet that he is on the verge of recollecting, afham admits: “at times it seems as if i never experienced it at all but invented it myself.”37 this would be a problem for a memory, but it is no problem for recollection. according to afham, the resulting recollection is a “secret” only fully knowable to its artist, partly because it is an art not a history, and partly because “one is always alone with recollection.”38 afham says, “even if several persons are interested in what is the object of recollecting to the one recollecting, he is nevertheless alone with his recollection—the seeming public character is merely illusory.”39 in short, for afham, recollection is a solitary act of creative artistry whose product is, at bottom, a secret. afham’s analysis of recollection invokes but does not strictly mimic socratic recollection. afham and socrates agree that “the one who is recollecting is in blessed circumstances,” more than “the one about to give birth,”40 but, unlike afham’s description of recollection as a solitary secret disguised in public attire, socrates portrays the pregnant recollector as in need of a midwife to assist in giving birth to ideas.41 whereas socrates acts as the quintessential midwife who births healthy ideas, any such midwife would be fatal to afham’s project of recollection: “any attempt to assist recollection directly would only miscarry.”42 despite their differences, socrates would likely agree with afham that once a recollection is born, it makes the parent “richer than if he possessed the whole world” and suffices its author “for all eternity.”43 afham is fortunate enough to have not one but two recollections. in order to prompt a recollection, afham places himself in the right atmosphere to do so: Gribskov, the popular but secluded forest, in which he finds the “Nook of the Eight Paths.”44 afham says that the nook “seems to contain a contradiction, for how can the meeting of eight paths create a nook, how can the beaten and frequented be SKS 6, 21 / SLW, 13. SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 15. mackey claims that afham’s name—by him—implies that he is not the author, but, rather, whoever reads it will essentially become the author, given the epigraph about apes and apostles that i discuss below. in addition, he points out that the term digte means to (poetically) write, which seems more accurate than “to invent.” see mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, p. 18. 38 SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 20. 39 SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 14–15. 40 SKS 6, 26 / SLW, 19. 41 ibid. For socrates’ account of recollection as connected to pregnancy see Plato’s Meno, Symposium, and Theaetetus. Plato, Complete Works, ed. by John m. Cooper and d.s. Hutchinson, indianapolis, indiana: Hackett 1997, pp. 870–97; pp. 457–505; pp. 157–234. 42 SKS 6, 23 / SLW, 15–16. 43 even though afham paints recollection as a solitary activity, it can be considered dialogical when the recollector gains a reader, so it is not as different from socrates’ version as it seems. 44 as the Hongs point out: “not only is the Preface here a discussion of recollection and a preface to a recollection, but the nook of eight Paths portion is also itself a recollection” (SLW, expanatory notes, 676). 36 37

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reconciled with the out-of-the-way and the hidden?”45 Like the nook, recollection is seemingly public but is essentially private; both are solitary despite having people traipse through them. as an author and storyteller, afham has hidden himself through his recollection “in vino veritas”; its public character is illusory like the nook of eight Paths. not just the place but also the timing must be right for recollection, and afham says that his favorite hour in the nook is afternoon, for he has “learned not to need nighttime in order to find stillness.”46 Just before recollecting a night of revelry complete with drunken speeches of men about women, afham paints a contrasting recollection: a silent afternoon in a cool empty forest that is still, but no less inebriated: “what is the intoxicating content of the glass but a drop compared with the infinite sea of silence from which I drink?”47 recollection requires both silence and stillness, and the nook of eight Paths in the afternoon offers afham an abundance of both. afham’s quiet recollection of gribskov’s intoxicating stillness is quickly followed by his recollection of the banquet’s drunken commotion. He explains that the difficult part about recollecting the banquet he might have attended consists not in faulty memory as much as in knowing that the participants “probably would smile to see any importance whatsoever attributed to such a trifle—a playful whim, a preposterous idea, as they themselves would call it.”48 For afham, sometimes the most trivial things make the best recollections. For lovers of recollection and lovers of Kierkegaard, afham’s recollection of the banquet definitely ties him to Plato. The narration of the Symposium, beginning with Plato and ending with apollodorus, is nearly as convoluted as Stages, which begins with Kierkegaard and ends with afham.49 Plato’s Symposium, featuring a group of men invited to a banquet to eat and give speeches, is now repeated by afham, although there are a number of noteworthy differences.50 in afham’s version victor eremita SKS 6, 23 / SLW, 16. SKS 6, 24 / SLW, 17. 47 SKS 6, 24–5 / SLW, 17–18. robert e. wood connects the role of wine in the banquet with the image of recollection as a wine press, concluding, “wine thus serves as symbol for transformed consciousness.” Louise Carroll Keeley uses the wine to connect in “in vino veritas” to “‘guilty?’/’not guilty?’” she wonders if perhaps the young man who “undertook ‘an excursion to the woods [which] ended with an unusually splendid dinner party’” from the diarist’s story is the young man from Repetition landing in “in vino veritas.” SKS 6, 263 / SLW, 283. see robert e. wood, “recollection and two banquets: Plato’s and Kierkegaard’s,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, p. 57; Louise Carroll Keeley, “Living the Possibility of a religious existence: Quidam of Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, p. 199. 48 SKS 6, 22 / SLW, 15. 49 see the appendix for a side-by-side comparison of two “Chinese puzzle boxes,” Stages and Symposium. 50 i would argue that “in vino veritas” is a repetition of the Symposium in the same way that Stages is a repetition of Either/Or (as Kierkegaard or Climacus states). Just as “it would have been so very easy to choose other names!” it would have been easy to avoid repeating the plotline of the Symposium (SKS 18, 257, JJ:356 / JP 5, 5823). 45 46

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is the host instead of agathon, the speeches are on women instead of love, and the participants are drunk instead of sober.51 in Plato’s version there are seven speeches related (and a few unmemorable ones omitted) by aristodemus to apollodorus, who mentions that he recounted it first to Glaucon on a walk to the city, and now recounts it again to an unnamed companion who asked for it. of the seven speeches, six were intended; alcibiades arrived drunk (and uninvited) after the speeches had ended, and upon pressure to give a speech, prefaced his with the greek equivalent of the Latin in vino veritas (“there is truth in wine”).52 in afham’s recollection there are only five speeches from seven participants (though Kierkegaard originally intended seven speeches to match the earlier Symposium) and no alcibiades.53 Like aristodemus, afham was present at the banquet but either declined to give a speech or refused to recollect it.54 Finally, there seems to be no obvious parallelism in the speeches or the speech givers between the two symposia. why, then invoke Plato’s Symposium?55 if afham agrees with Kierkegaard that women are “illuminated falsely” at the banquet, then perhaps he recollected it to use it in contrast to the Judge’s reflections on (not recollections of) marriage, which hopefully illuminate women more truly.56 Perhaps Afham intended to publish the recollections and the reflections as The Wrong and the Right, which would then constitute a repetition of Either/Or. why so many repetitions? to keep people out of the book, for starters. From a certain perspective, Climacus was right to conclude that afham’s prompting a recollection

victor eremita proposes that the subject of the speeches should be “erotic love [Elskov] or the relation between man and woman,” but Kierkegaard describes the speeches as “[illuminating] women essentially but nevertheless falsely” (SKS 6, 35 / SLW, 30–1; SKS 27, 315, Papir 308 / JP 5, 5755). 52 by including Judge william and his wife, wood counts seven speakers in both dialogues. see wood, “recollection and two banquets: Plato’s and Kierkegaard’s,” p. 50. 53 Kierkegaard writes, “the participants were seven in number: Johannes, nicknamed the seducer; victor eremita; Constantin Constantius, and in addition three others, whose names i did not learn since i did not hear them called by name at all but only by an epithet: recollection’s unhappy Lover, the Fashion designer, the young man” (Pap. v b 172:1). 54 it is unclear whether afham would call aristodemus’ account a recollection or a memory. 55 For two much fuller comparisons of the two symposia, see wood, “recollection and two banquets: Plato’s and Kierkegaard’s” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 49–68; adriaan van Heerden, “does Love Cure the tragic? Kierkegaardian variations on a Platonic theme,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 69–90. 56 Kierkegaard interprets and summarizes the speeches: “The purpose of the five speakers in ‘in vino veritas,’ all of whom are Karikaturen des Heiligsten [Caricatures of the Most Holy], is to illuminate women essentially but nevertheless falsely. The Young man understands women solely from the point of view of the sex; Constantin Constantius considers the psychic aspect: faithlessness, that is, frivolousness; victor eremita conceives of the female sex psychically as sex, its significance for the male, i.e., that there is none; the Fashion designer considers the sensuous aspect, outside the essentially erotic, of the vanity that is more pronounced in a woman’s relationship to women, for as an author has said, women do not adorn themselves for men but for each other; Johannes the seducer considers the purely sensuous factor with respect to the erotic” (SKS 27, 315, Papir 308 / JP 5, 5755). 51

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in “in vino veritas” amounted to risking a repetition (indeed, two repetitions: Either/ Or and Plato’s Symposium). Climacus meant that it was risky because afham might lose readers upon their discovery of the same characters. but, if afham’s goal was to keep most readers out rather than in, then the risk was quite low. III. Afham’s Role as a Polynym two images have already frequented the primary and secondary literature on afham and his recollection. First is the gatekeeper. Kierkegaard implies that afham’s role is to separate the wheat from the chaff by presenting what superficially looks like “the same old thing.” if a potential reader tosses Stages away upon finding out that the characters in “in vino veritas” are mostly repeats, then afham has done his job. second, afham and his recollection have been compellingly compared to a mirror. the epigraph to “in vino veritas” is a phrase written by Lichtenberg: “such works are mirrors; when an ape looks in no apostle can look out,” and this metaphor is sometimes taken to represent the function of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms and their works generally.57 when afham the mirror asks “but, who, then, am i?” he is effectively asking his reader, “but who, then, are you?” this reading makes sense of Afham’s drawing attention to himself only to deflect it away from himself (and onto us). As a mirror, Afham reflects apes back to apes, and apostles back to apostles.58 i would like to add to these two rich images a third, which afham gives us directly and which unites the first two: the line. Afham declares and asks: “I am like the line with the arithmetic problem above and the answer below—who cares about the line?”59 both this unusual image and the passage that follows it provoke at least the following set of questions. if afham is right that nobody pays attention SKS 6, 16 / SLW, 8. interpreting afham, his recollection, and Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous works in general, as a mirror is fruitful and quite Kierkegaardian. in The Point of View, Kierkegaard implies that his aesthetic works are meant to meet people “where they are” and reflect back to them what they already think, before taking it away and replacing it with truth (SKS 16, 23–8 / PV, 45–54). For examples of how commentators have taken up this image of Kierkegaard’s works as a mirror, see Josiah thompson, “the master of irony,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, p. 114; Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” pp. 217–19; Joakim garff, “the esthetic is above all my element,” in The New Kierkegaard, ed. by elsebet Jegstrup, bloomington, indiana: indiana university Press 2004, p. 59; ettore rocca, “søren Kierkegaard and silence,” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon daniel marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, p. 83; mackey, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, pp. 18–19; Louis mackey, Points of View: Readings of Kierkegaard, Tallahassee, Florida: Florida State University Press 1986, p. 167; Darío González, “Suspended Reflections: The Dialectic of Self-Enclosure in Kierkegaard’s ‘ “Guilty?”/“Not Guilty?,” ’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, pp. 182–3; roger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville, virginia: university of virginia Press 1993, p. 7. 58 SKS 16, 58 / PV, 78; SKS 16, 72 / PV, 92. in any case, if Kierkegaard were alive today, i am convinced he would call us all “assistant professors” for writing books and articles based on such questions (SKS 6, 271 / SLW, 292; SKS 6, 426 / SLW, 462). 59 SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. 57

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to the line between the problem and the answer, does it follow that the line does not matter? does afham think we are unaware that without the line to separate a problem from its answer, the equation falls apart? the line represents the condition for the possibility of arithmetic; what does afham make possible? what falls apart without him? and why would he interpret himself as “almost less than nothing” when presumably he knows that without the line, no problem and no answer exist? to begin making sense of these questions, i would like to suggest that afham’s role as the line in Stages is threefold, and consists in separating, illuminating, and being the condition for the possibility of transformation. First, just as the mathematical line separates the problem from the answer, afham separates inquisitive readers from the attentive ones, and tries to weed out as many people as possible. viewed in this light, “in vino veritas” is less a treatise on women than a test, administered by afham through multiple repetitions. only she who chooses to keep reading instead of tossing the book aside upon discovering the repetitions passes.60 even if afham had whittled it down to one single reader (that is, if Stages “came into the right hands”), he would have completed his first task as a Kierkegaardian polynym.61 second, the line between the problem and its answer presents an equation as an equation. without a line, one sees only a group of numbers on a page; draw a line, and an equation comes into focus. Likewise, as the line, afham illuminates something that is there but is unrecognized: the reader. by asking about himself at the end of “in vino veritas” (only to say that no one should ask about him), afham indirectly reminds attentive people of their role as readers. in other words, afham acts like a mirror (from which no ape peering in can see an apostle looking back), but he also does more: he introduces readership by asking about his authorship. viewed in this light, what afham says about himself is not as important as that he says something. by rendering himself visible in the text, afham is effectively “tipping his hat” to the reader.62 thus, afham’s second role as a Kierkegaardian polynym is to render his reader visible. Kierkegaard’s own description in the journals and papers of afham’s role makes him into a kind of gatekeeper, whose repetitions keep readers out. in addition to the passage already quoted, Kierkegaard writes: “the Stages will not have as many readers as Either/Or, will barely make a ripple. That is fine; in a way it rids me of the gawking public who want to be wherever they think there is a disturbance” (SKS 18, 257, JJ:356 / JP 5, 5823). 61 stephen Crites suggests that Kierkegaard’s project is the same as what i am describing as afham’s project. Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” pp. 224–5: “Kierkegaard found artful ways of distinguishing between the readers and the page turners. He quotes a motto from Lichtenberg as the superscription to the first part of Stages on Life’s Way: ‘such works are mirrors; when an ape looks in no apostle can look out’….the books are so designed that their real resolution can only be carried out by the reader. this way of presenting the existential categories, essentially shifting the burden of each book onto the reader, was not a mere literary conceit on Kierkegaard’s part. that was the way it had to be done, given his view of the existential categories. they refer to movements in existence. the attempt to describe them directly would falsify what is essential.” 62 Crites uses this image to describe the closest Kierkegaard can come to his readers, given his emphasis on leaving the reader alone with the text. Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” p. 227: “Precisely by placing the burden on the reader in this 60

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Third, although Afham treats the line as insignificant (“who cares about the line?”), in actuality the line between a problem and its answer is crucial. it not only illuminates an unrecognizable equation, but it is also the condition for the possibility of the equation. without the line, one only sees a group of numbers; with it, one sees an equation. but this is not simply an issue of seeing. if without the line no one would suspect the presence of an equation, then effectively there is no equation. adding the line makes the equation exist in a very practical sense. in other words, the line does not just illuminate something, but it has a hand in creating it insofar as it exists for consciousness. Likewise, Afham seems insignificant but is essential. He does not just call attention to the reader qua reader, but he is the condition for the possibility of the reader in the first place. If he was successful in his first role of weeding out the inquisitive readers, then those who remain are the attentive ones. if he was successful in his second role, then his attentive readers can now see themselves; by reading “in vino veritas” they can presumably decipher if they are apes or apostles. the third function afham serves is to provide the condition for the possibility of selftransformation. Just as without the line there is no equation, without afham there is no transformation. even if he remains “everywhere present but yet not noticeable” afham makes it possible for an ape looking in to become an apostle looking out.63 if his text is to accomplish anything, then the mirror metaphor that afham uses is potentially misleading. if a mirror’s only function is to reveal what is looking in, then it is mostly passive. what the line teaches us is that afham also takes an active role in the life of his readers: the line makes the equation possible, and afham makes transformation possible. the line does not just show an equation that is already there, but it also makes the equation possible. Likewise, a robust reading of afham’s epigraph shows that a mirror does more than simply reflect something back to itself; it is also transformative. as soon as i look into a mirror, i begin to change my appearance to suit the image i have of myself. the mirror helps me see myself, but way, Kierkegaard would fulfill his particular vocation as a writer: to communicate the sort of possibility that could only be forged out of a lifetime. Just this act of communication, however, precluded any personal connection between author and reader beyond the most polite tip of the author’s tall hat by way of encouragement.” 63 since this is effectively the epigraph to Stages, it is worth considering on a larger scale (especially since this volume is dedicated to reading the pseudonyms). Kierkegaard scholars often fall into one of two groups: apes and apostles. one lineage of thinkers—roughly from walter Lowrie to mark tiejten—reads Kierkegaard’s The Point of View literally; they take him at his word when he says that he is and always has been a religious author disguised as an aesthetic one. the second group—roughly from Henning Fenger to Joakim garff—reads him more literarily, finding Kierkegaard’s post-production interpretation of his authorship as interesting, perhaps, but not authoritative. the question remains: who are the apes and who are the apostles? each group thinks that it is being faithful to the text and to Kierkegaard, which makes the case for calling each group the apostles. the literal group might accuse the literary group of being the apes, in the sense that they monkey around with the text. but the literary group might do likewise, in the sense that the literal group uncritically apes back what they see. and what about Kierkegaard himself? He says that he is not an apostle; does that make him an ape? (SKS 16, 58 / PV, 78).

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it also helps me become someone new. afham shows apes to apes, and by so doing helps them become apostles. as such, he is taking an active role in making them who they want to be. indeed, all good authors do more than just show their readers who they are, but rather they help them become who they will be.64 afham’s account of recollection echoes this account of good authorship. by portraying recollection as less about summoning an accurate memory from the past and more about crafting one for the future—usually by blending fact with fiction— afham stresses the creative aspect of recollection. Just as a recollector takes an active role in crafting a recollection (but not directly, as we saw above), afham takes part in creating and shaping his reader. of course, he cannot singlehandedly make an ape into an apostle, and he cannot force it. at least and at most, he is only an occasion, but he is nevertheless indispensable as such. still, it remains entirely accurate for afham to say, “by myself, i am capable of nothing at all”65 because he needs a reader. in sum, afham is dialectically indispensable: as the occasion for transformation, he is everything, but without a reader, he is “almost less than nothing.”66 IV. Summary and Conclusion The first part of this article entailed embarrassing Afham by asking who he is in relation to Kierkegaard and the other pseudonyms. since this method produced no clear answer, the next step entailed trying to figure out who he is by what he wrote. Afham’s reflection on recollection made the case for his insignificance on the basis that recollections (like books) are more important than their authors (even pseudonymous ones). However, without afham, “in vino veritas” would not exist, which might be acceptable for søren Kierkegaard, who expressed frustration with the work in his journals and papers,67 but would be tragic for an admirer like georg brandes, who said that “in vino veritas,” along with “the seducer’s diary,” are

in a passage that robustly interprets afham’s mirror metaphor, Crites interprets all of Kierkegaard’s pseudonyms as having the same role. Crites, “Pseudonymous authorship as Art and as Act,” p. 218: “The pseudonym and his book constitute a mirror reflecting from its angle and within its frame the existential movement as it breaks away. this mirror is also held up to the reader, who through the aesthetic medium is essentially left alone with the existential movement itself and whatever claim it may make on him….Like william afham’s line between the problem and its sum, the pseudonymous work is nothing at all in itself, yet it serves to put the reader in touch with a possibility that cannot be directly presented, because it can only come forth in its truth in an actual lifetime.” 65 SKS 6, 84 / SLW, 86. 66 ibid. 67 Kierkegaard writes: “ ‘in vino veritas’ is not going well. i am constantly rewriting parts of it, but it does not satisfy me. on the whole i feel that i have given far too much thought to the matter and thereby have gotten into an unproductive mood. i cannot write it here in the city; so I must take a journey. But perhaps it is hardly worth finishing….In any case it must be written in a hurry. if such a moment does not come, i will not do it. at present the productivity has miscarried and makes me constantly write more than i want to write” (SKS 27, 315, Papir 308 / JP 5, 5744). 64

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“the most excellent things Kierkegaard has written.”68 even if, in one sense, texts are more important than their authors, the nagging suspicion remains that authors are not superfluous (or else Kierkegaard would not need an authorship at all). the third attempt to understand who afham is, both by himself and as a member of the Kierkegaardian clan, began by following his lead by asking: “who, then, is william afham?” in the rich image of the line between the problem and the answer, afham answers for himself, albeit elliptically. if his account of recollection (which deems authors inferior to their creations) renders afham expendable, the metaphor of the line adds a dimension that makes him essential. what results is an afham that is dialectically indispensable. He is both irrelevant (like authors of recollections) and crucial (like all philosophical authors). without his text to provide the occasion, no confrontation could take place between author and reader, and thus no apostle could come from an ape. as the condition for the possibility of transformation, afham is a robust author, but without a reader, afham is no one. even if he is right that he is “not noticeable” afham is wrong that he is “not worth asking about.”

68

SLW, xvii.

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Appendix Figure a

I

Swen Kierkegaard

I

Stages on Life's Way

Compiled (formerly "stitched together"), forwarded to the press, and published by

Old Part I: The Wrong and the Right I

I New Part I: "In Vino Veritas"

I

Old Part I1 (New Part 111):

I New Part 11: "Some Reflections on Marriage in Answer to Objections"

"'Guilty?'/'Not Guilty?"' (Old title: "Unhappy Love")

I

A "Recollection" related by William Afiam

by A Married Man

Speeches given by: 1) The Young Man (from Repetition) 2) Constantin Constantius(from Repetition) 3) Victor Eremita (From Either/Or) 4) The Fashion Designer 5) Johannes the Seducer (From Either/Or)

by Frater Taciturnus (who also wrote: "The Activity How He Still Happened to Pay for the Dinner")

4 Quidam (of the imaginary construction) Quidaem (of the imaginary construction)

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Figure b Plato, Symposium

I Aristodemus ("A little man who always went around barefoot," who participated without participating, and told (recollected?) it to Apollodoms, who was not there)

I Apollodorus (Told Aristodemus' story to Glaucon first and now to his unnamed companion)

Speeches "remembered" by Aristodemis given by: 1. Phaedrus 2. Pausanias 3. Elyximachus 4. Aristophanes 5. Agathon 6. Socrates 7. Alcibiades z

-

-

bibliography berthold, daniel, “Kierkegaard’s seductions: the ethics of authorship,” MLN: Modern Language Notes, vol. 120, no. 5, 2005, p. 1058. brandt, Frithiof, Den unge Søren Kierkegaard. En Række nye Bidrag, Copenhagen: Levin & munksgaards Forlag 1929, pp. 330–4. Cain, david, “ ‘the gleam of an indication’—adventures of the text,” in Why Kierkegaard Matters: A Festschrift in Honor of Robert L. Perkins, ed. by marc alan Jolley, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2010, pp. 50–2. Crites, stephen, “Pseudonymous authorship as art and as act,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City, new york: anchor books 1972, pp. 183–229. garff, Joakim, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton, new Jersey: Princeton university Press 2005, pp. 338–9. González, Darío, “Suspended Reflections: The Dialectic of Self-Enclosure in Kierkegaard’s ‘ “guilty?”/“not guilty?” ’ ” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 189–212. Hall, amy Laura, “stages on the wrong way: Love and the other in Kierkegaard’s Stages on Life’s Way and Works of Love,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 9–48. — Kierkegaard and the Treachery of Love, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2002, pp. 40–2. Hannay, alastair, Kierkegaard: A Biography, Cambridge: Cambridge university Press 2001, pp. 259–63. Heerden, adriaan van, “does Love Cure the tragic? Kierkegaardian variations on a Platonic theme,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 189–202. mackey, Louis, Kierkegaard: A Kind of Poet, Philadelphia: university of Pennsylvania Press 1971, pp. 16–19. Pattison, george, Poor Paris! Kierkegaard’s Critique of the Spectacular City, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 1998, pp. 78–9; p. 129. Perkins, robert L., “woman-bashing in Kierkegaard’s ‘in vino veritas’: a reinscription of Plato’s symposium,” in Feminist Interpretations of Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Céline León and sylvia walsh, university Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania state university Press 1997, p. 83; p. 93.

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rocca, ettore, “søren Kierkegaard and silence,” in Anthropology and Authority: Essays on Søren Kierkegaard, ed. by Poul Houe, gordon daniel marino, and sven Hakon rossel, amsterdam: rodopi 2000, pp. 77–83. sheil, Patrick, Starting with Kierkegaard, London: Continuum 2011, pp. 40–2. thompson, Josiah, “the master of irony,” in Kierkegaard: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Josiah thompson, garden City, new york: anchor books 1972, pp. 103–63. — Kierkegaard, new york: Knopf 1973, p. 143. wood, robert e., “recollection and two banquets: Plato’s and Kierkegaard’s,” in Stages on Life’s Way, ed. by robert L. Perkins, macon, georgia: mercer university Press 2000 (International Kierkegaard Commentary, vol. 11), pp. 49–68. ziolkowski, eric Jozef, The Literary Kierkegaard, evanston, illinois: northwestern university Press 2011, p. 80.

the young man: voice of naïveté Jochen schmidt

“the young man” is one of the two main protagonists of the book Repetition, which was published pseudonymously in 1843. Repetition records the interchange between its pseudonymous author, Constantin Constantius, and the young man, who has become hopelessly entangled in a desperate love affair. theories on the origin of the young man are essentially guesswork. references to a young man in Kierkegaard’s writings beyond Repetition are numerous, yet far less vivid und nuanced than the presentation of the young man in Repetition.1 as a consequence, this article will focus on the presentation of the young man within the framework of Repetition (section i) and then conclude by locating the young man’s voice in the play of voices in Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous writings of 1843 (section ii). Precisely what led Kierkegaard to create the young man is not clear. Joakim garff claims that the young man is simply called thus “for want of anything better.”2 Poole observes an allusion to Cervantes’ Don Quixote.3 it is fairly obvious that the story of the young man reflects Kierkegaard’s own story with Regine,4 though of course one must bear in mind that Repetition is fiction, and that none of the characters in Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous writings represents him as a person. yet there are some indications that the relationship between the young man and Constantin Constantius reflects the relationship between Alcibiades and Socrates in The Concept of Irony. alcibiades’ rigor, Kierkegaard suggests, must have incited socrates. the reckless, sensate, ambitious, talented young person must naturally have been a highly flammable material for Socrates’ ironic sparks.5 socrates is an ironic observer (ironiske Iagttager) of the youth (and thus also of alcibiades);6 likewise, Constantin

1 in The Sickness unto Death, being a young man is represented as a stage in the development of the human being (SKS 11, 174 / SUD, 59). 2 Joakim garff, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 233. 3 roger Poole, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville: university Press of virginia 1993, p. 65. 4 ibid., p. 64. 5 SKS 1, 237 / CI, 189. 6 SKS 1, 237 / CI, 190.

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is an observer of the young man.7 yet the impact of such observations should not be overestimated. essentially, the young man is “just young,” that is, passionate, hopeful, idealistic and in danger of being led astray.8 He personifies inexperience,9 naïveté and the romantic idea of youth.10 in addition to his appearance in Repetition, the young man appears among the participants of a dinner party that is recorded in Stages on Life’s Way. Here, the pseudonymous author, william afham, says that the young man “presumably was in his early twenties, of slender and delicate build, and rather dark complexion”11 and that he was detached from the world like a sleepwalker. as a contribution to the dinner party, the young man presents a speech on love, though his negative tone is reminiscent of someone who neither actually knows what love is nor wishes to become acquainted with it. Constantin Constantius replies that he would have forbidden the young man to speak, had he had foreknowledge of his speech.12 again, to understand the young man means to understand the problem of Repetition, to which we shall now turn. I. the story told in Repetition begins with a young man “deeply and fervently and beautifully and humbly in love.”13 yet his love is prone to disaster, as the young man turns his beloved into a poetic idea, thus rendering a genuine historical relationship impossible. “the young girl was not his beloved; she was the occasion that awakened the poetic in him and made him a poet.”14 in the wake of dreaming and imagining his relationship to his beloved, the young man has become lost in his imagination and fails to become concrete: He was deeply and fervently in love, that was clear, and yet a few days later he was able to recollect his love. He was essentially through with the entire relationship. in beginning it, he took such a tremendous step that he leaped over life. if the girl dies tomorrow, it will make no essential difference.15

SKS 4, 14 / R, 137. Constantin describes himself as an observer even though he once admits that it was impossible for him to relate to the young man in such a way (SKS 4, 12 / R, 134). 8 SKS 4, 10 / R, 132: “it takes youthfulness to hope, youthfulness to recollect, but it takes courage to will repetition.” 9 Pap. v b 176:3 / SLW, supplement, 546. 10 on Kierkegaard and romanticism see william mcdonald, “Kierkegaard and romanticism,” in The Oxford Handbook of Kierkegaard, ed. by John Lippitt and george Pattison, oxford: oxford university Press 2013, pp. 94–111. 11 SKS 6, 47 / SLW, 47. 12 ibid. 13 SKS 4, 12 / R, 134. 14 SKS 4, 15 / R, 138. 15 SKS 4, 14 / R, 136; see also SKS 4, 55 / R, 185: “if she died tomorrow, that would not distress him further; he would not actually feel a loss, for his being was at rest.” 7

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in order to conceal the loss of reality, the young man drowns himself and the girl in poetic exuberance. The young man thus personifies what Kierkegaard later calls the “poet-existence,” that is, poetizing instead of being.16 what is peculiar about Repetition is the interplay between the main literary figures, the young man and Constantin, who essentially both suffer from the same ailment. Constantin appears to know such experiences of unhappy aestheticism all too well, as we can see in a passage where he describes his own inner life during a visit of the theater: there is probably no young person with any imagination who has not at some time been enthralled by the magic of the theater and wished to be swept along into that artificial actuality in order like a double to see and hear himself and to split himself up into every possible variation of himself, and nevertheless in such a way that every variation is still himself.…as yet the personality is not discerned, and its energy is betokened only in the passion of possibility….but this shadow-existence also demands satisfaction, and it is never beneficial to a person if this does not have time to live out its life, whereas on the other hand it is tragic or comic if the individual makes the mistake of living out his life in it.17

any human being needs to pass through a poetic stage of youth that is characterized by the passion of possibility. neither should one suppress the urge to become absorbed in the multitude of vague possibilities, nor should one live one’s life merely in fantasy. An echo of this conflict can be perceived in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript.18 as niels nymann eriksen nicely puts it,19 “the young man changes the present into a dream rather than dreaming about the future. He fails to find the equilibrium of possibility and necessity, of infinitude and time.”20 eventually the young man learns that “she” has remarried and succumbs to a world of pure phantasy, to “the flight of thought,” the dance in the vortex of the infinite.21 in order to return to earth, after having lost himself in phantasy, the young man would need to perform a repetition. Repetition might make him fit to be a husband.22 but repetition is ultimately a miracle that can only come about by virtue of the absurd.23 Constantin develops a plan to disencumber the young man of his poetic confusion, but the “moment of repetition” never occurs, and all he achieves is to destroy the relationship. Constantin observes that the young man fails to achieve the SKS 11, 131 / SUD, 77. SKS 4, 30 / R, 154. 18 SKS 7, 271 / CUP1, 297. 19 niels nymann eriksen, Kierkegaard’s Category of Repetition: A Reconstruction, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2000 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 5), p. 31. 20 Jochen schmidt, Vielstimmige Rede vom Unsagbaren: Dekonstruktion, Glaube und Kierkegaards pseudonyme Literatur, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2006 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 14), pp. 160ff. 21 SKS 4, 87–8 / R, 221–2. 22 SKS 4, 81 / R, 214. 23 SKS 4, 55 / R, 185. Constantin notes that he himself cannot help the young man, because he cannot make a religious movement (SKS 4, 57 / R, 187). 16 17

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repetition, though at the same time, it becomes clear that the young man’s ailment is really Constantin’s own. indeed the relationship between the young man and Constantin is intricate. on the one hand, they are clearly distinguished from one another; the young man is a poet, while Constantin himself is a prose writer.24 on the other hand, the two are so similar that they almost appear to merge into one. Finally, Constantin declares, “every move i have made is merely to throw light on him; i have had him constantly in mente; every word of mine is either ventriloquism or is said in connection with him.”25 this suggests that the young man represents a phase in Constantin’s own development. youth is poetic and hopeful, but the course of time turns the poet into a prosaic writer. youthfulness, Kierkegaard will later say through the voice of anti-Climacus, beautiful as though it may be, is tinged with despair.26 youthfulness is to live with the illusion of hope; adulthood is to believe that hope is an illusion.27 Constantin has long since given up on the world and desires to die as the hope of youth has forsaken him.28 Fittingly, the young man comments that the counsel Constantin gives him is well considered—“it is true, every word is true, but it is a truth so very cold and logical, as if the world were dead.”29 yet again, the young man and Constantin have the same destination. the young man is headed there at full speed, but Constantin has already arrived. Constantin and the young man personify different modes of self-dissolution, and since their despair is essentially the same, the young man’s violent struggle to escape Constantin’s morbid demeanor is futile. being a puppet of a merciless ventriloquist, he can by no means escape Constantin’s deathly grip: no! no! no! i could despair over these written symbols, standing there alongside each other cold and like idle street-loafers, and the one “no” says no more than the next. you should hear how my passion inflects them. Would that I stood beside you, that I could tear myself from you with the last “no” as don giovanni did from the Commandatore, whose hand was no colder than the good sense with which you irresistibly sweep me off my feet. and yet, if i stood face to face with you, i would hardly say more than one “no,” because before i got any further you no doubt would interrupt me with the cold response: yes, yes.30

SKS 4, 85 / R, 218. in the Concluding Unscientific Postscript, Climacus somewhat obscurely comments on the relation between Constantin and the young man: “even Constantin was not disinclined to define himself in relation to the Young Man but had the common sense and irony that the young man lacked. ordinarily one supposes it to be otherwise, supposes that the imaginative constructor, the observer, is higher or stands higher than what he produces” (SKS 7, 265 / CUP1, 290–1). 25 SKS 4, 94 / R, 228. 26 SKS 11, 141 / SUD, 25: “even that which, humanly speaking, is utterly beautiful and lovable—a womanly youthfulness that is perfect peace and harmony and joy—is nevertheless despair.” 27 SKS 11, 173 / SUD, 58. 28 SKS 4, 49 / R, 175. 29 SKS 4, 61 / R, 191. 30 SKS 4, 62 / R, 193. 24

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neither Constantin nor the young man is able to make the step of repetition, they just stand there immobilized.31 there is no repetition within Repetition. it is only by virtue of the intertextual interplay with Fear and Trembling that Repetition is, albeit indirectly, related to a genuine hope, as it is by virtue of the absurd that the knight of faith, unlike the knights of infinity, knows how to return to earth.32 II. Kierkegaard’s writings of 1843 are a composition, which works by means of microdialogues between the pseudonymous voices, who personify similar philosophical problems and also share key literary motifs.33 in Either/Or, the problem at stake is similar to that which is dealt with in Repetition: the “diary” of “Johannes the seducer” is the paradigmatic expression of a flight from temporality into fantasy. “Johannes the seducer,” the organ of the aesthete, absconds into a pseudo-world, a world that he himself constructs, and which he then rules in a sovereign manner. there he is similar to the young man of Repetition. the aesthete’s counterpart, the judge, does not have a genuine solution to the aesthete’s struggle, since he develops his own solution on the very grounds of aesthetic experience that he claims to transcend.34 both Either/ Or and Repetition shed light on the existential self-aporias of romanticism, which amounts to the fact that one cannot surrender to the infinite in aesthetic experience and then return to the finite. Each of Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous writings of 1843 is concerned with the impossibility of genuine repetition in this sense; the young man is just another voice in this complex negativistic literary project. For him, there is just as little hope as for the aesthete. it is only by means of the intertextual interplay with Fear and Trembling that Repetition has a part in the negative illumination of impossible faith. Fear and Trembling is at its core again a contrasting depiction of two positions embodied by literary figures. Contrasted are the knight of infinity/the tragic hero, who surrender infinitely, on the one hand, and Abraham, who surrenders and yet manages to hold on to his hope, on the other hand. the tragic hero surrenders in relation to himself and enters the universal; the knight of infinity, Abraham, surrenders in the face of an impossible love in relation to temporal existence by moving into infinity. Similar to the aesthete and the young man, the knight of infinity vanishes, floating away from the world. However, the knight of faith surrenders in relation to the finite and yet hopes for the finite: Abraham surrenders in relation to Isaac in starting to sacrifice him, yet he is able to receive him back after this surrender and enjoy him again. this, Johannes de silentio says, he himself could not SKS 4, 81 / R, 214: “suspenso gradu.” SKS 4, 135–6 / F, 40–1. see schmidt, Vielstimmige Rede vom Unsagbaren, pp. 132ff. 33 see schmidt, Vielstimmige Rede vom Unsagbaren. on the concept of micro-dialogue, see mikhail m. bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, ed. and trans. by Caryl emerson, minneapolis: university of minnesota Press 1984, p. 301. 34 For a detailed analysis see Jochen schmidt, “neither/nor: the mutual negation of søren Kierkegaard’s early Pseudonymous voices,” Journal of Culture and Religious Theory, vol. 8, 2006, pp. 58–71; pp. 61ff. 31 32

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do: he could surrender, but he would be unable to enjoy isaac after this surrender. Johannes de silentio sees this in the fact that abraham is able to receive isaac back after having surrendered in relation to him, whereas Johannes himself would have been able to surrender, though he would not have been able to rejoice in him in the movement of repetition after having resigned. Johannes de silentio himself takes part in this working of contrasts by saying that he himself was able to surrender, as all of the figures are. Yet to surrender means to carry out merely the first part of a double movement. the knight of faith, in contrast to Johannes, performs a double movement of surrender and retrieval of life after surrender. this double movement is utterly incomprehensible to Johannes de silentio, for he himself lacks this faith. so we can see that the literary strategies of Repetition and Fear and Trembling are analogous: In either text, the fictional I (Constantine/Johannes de silentio) brings forth another figure (the young man/Abraham) in order to say something about this literary figure which does not apply to the fictional I: Constantine is not a poet (as opposed to the young man), Johannes does not “have” the faith, which enables repetition (as opposed to abraham). i would like to illustrate this claim with two quotations: The young man I [Constantin Constantius] have brought into being is a poet. I can do no more, for the most i can do is to imagine a poet and to produce him by my thought. i myself cannot become a poet, and in any case my interest lies elsewhere.35 The dialectic of [Abraham’s] faith is the finest and the most extraordinary of all; it has an elevation of which i can certainly form a conception, but no more than that. i can make the mighty trampoline leap…but I cannot make the next movement, for the marvelous i cannot do—i can only be amazed at it.36

though the writings are structured analogously, they are heading in opposite directions. Repetition exposes the poet-existence of the young man as an expression of the factual impossibility of repetition. Fear and Trembling exposes the faith of abraham as an expression of the counterfactual reality of repetition. Constantine Constantius and Johannes de silentio both hold forth a delicate and fragile literary figure to the reader: Constantine holds forth the young man, Johannes holds forth the knight of faith. Yet these delicate figures, unable to subsist, struggle and eventually tumble back to the pseudonyms. thus, they amplify the depiction of the character of the pseudonyms, who had been holding them forth: the poet-existence of the young man tumbles out of life and thus falls back to the fictional I, Constantine. Constantine has given up on life. any escape into the poet-existence is doomed to fail. The furious deflections of the poet eventually collapse once and for all into the continuity of Constantine Constantius. the faith of abraham realizes repetition, the motion that “slays this death” of surrender.37 yet abraham tumbles out of language and back to the fictional I: Johannes de silentio has been struck dumb. The extraordinary knight of faith, who embodies the healing of devastated reality, cannot be grasped by common language. it is only by means of coming to grips with the 35 36 37

SKS 4, 93–4 / R, 228 (my emphasis). SKS 4, 131 / FT, 36 (my emphasis). SKS 4, 15 / R, 137.

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failure of life and only by enacting a corresponding failure of language that faith can be brought to language. the problem which lies at the heart of the three pseudonymous writings of 1843 is the elusiveness of life with respect to presence: every instant of heavenly sensual fulfillment dies down upon entering the orbit of temporality. The drag of finitude arouses the desire to be lifted up from the ground in the “dance in the vortex of the infinite.”38 the aesthete and the young man are driven by such a desire to escape. the judge and Constantine amplify the impression of the aporetic character of beingin-the-world. neither they nor the assessor are able to present an effective remedy. It is Abraham alone who is capable of finding his way back into the finite after the loss of the world, while he is utterly incomprehensible and ineffable. yet the incomprehensibility of his faith does not stop the flow of discourse. Rather, it triggers a decisive and meaningful neither/nor. neither can faith be spoken of appropriately, nor can that insight have the final word. Neither are the images of the previous pseudonyms appropriate, nor is there a way to depict faith without such imagery. Johannes de silentio speaks of faith by negating all the voices that sound before him; he draws his power from this negation of the other voices, which describe the same conflict as he does, though from different and eventually inadequate perspectives. Johannes de silentio’s “voice,” which wordlessly silences abraham’s faith, gains momentum by negating the apparent irresistibility of the boundary at which Repetition stands.

38

SKS 4, 87–8 / R, 221–2.

bibliography eriksen, niels nymann, Kierkegaard’s Category of Repetition: A Reconstruction, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2000 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 5), p. 31. garff, Joakim, Søren Kierkegaard: A Biography, trans. by bruce H. Kirmmse, Princeton: Princeton university Press 2005, p. 233. mcdonald, william, “Kierkegaard and romanticism,” in The Oxford Handbook of Kierkegaard, ed. by John Lippitt and george Pattison, oxford: oxford university Press 2013, pp. 94–111. Poole, roger, Kierkegaard: The Indirect Communication, Charlottesville: university Press of virginia 1993, pp. 64–5. schmidt, Jochen, Vielstimmige Rede vom Unsagbaren: Dekonstruktion, Glaube und Kierkegaards pseudonyme Literatur, berlin and new york: walter de gruyter 2006 (Kierkegaard Studies Monograph Series, vol. 14), pp. 160–81. — “neither/nor: the mutual negation of søren Kierkegaard’s early Pseudonymous voices,” Journal of Culture and Religious Theory, vol. 8, 2006, pp. 58–71.

index of Persons

abraham, 143, 145, 146, 148, 154, 190, 307–9. adam, 270, 271, 273, 276. adam, rodolphe, 252. adler, adolph Peter (1812–69), danish philosopher and theologian, 216, 217, 264. agacinski, sylviane (b. 1945), PolishFrench philosopher, 166. agamemnon, 150. alcibiades, 292, 303. andersen, Hans Christian (1805–75), danish poet, novelist and writer of fairy tales, 205–12 passim. archimedes, 267. aristotle, 63. augustine of Hippo (354–430), church father, 18, 275. barthes, roland (1915–80), French philosopher, 83, 246. beabout, gregory, 259, 260. bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), church father, 247. berry, wanda, 170, 171. berthold, daniel, 164, 170. bonde Jensen, Jørgen, 168, 169. brandes, georg (1842–1927), danish author and literary critic, 296. brutus, marcus Junius (85 bC–42 bC), roman senator, 150. byron, george gordon noel (1788–1824), english poet, 5. Cain, david, 137. Cervantes, miguel de (1547–1616), 303.

Chateaubriand, vicomte François rené de (1768–1848), French writer and statesman, 243. Clemenceau, georges (1841–1929), French statesman, 84. Colette, Jacques, 245. Conant, James, 118. Crites, stephen, 160. Cuvier, georges (1769–1832), French natural scientist, 164. davenport, John, 17. delecroix, vincent, 246. derrida, Jacques (1930–2004), French philosopher, 246. descartes, rené (1596–1650), French philosopher, 98. dias, bartolomeu (1450–1500), Portuguese explorer, 52. diogenes Laertius, 54. don giovanni, 5, 35, 36, 147, 160, 162, 163, 165, 172, 287, 306. don Juan, see “don giovanni.” donner, Conrad Hinrich (1774–1854), danishgerman merchant and consul, 245. don Quixote, 30. dostoevsky, Fyodor mikhailovich (1821–81), russian author, 14. downing, eric, 161, 162, 165. duran, Jane, 169. eriksen, niels nymann, 305. evans, C. stephen, 133. Faust, 147, 165, 166, 172. Fenger, Henning (1921–85), danish literary historian, 167.

312

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

Ferreira, Jamie, 21. Fichte, Johann gottlieb (1762–1814), german philosopher, 59. Fondane, benjamin, i.e., benjamin wexler, romanian-French poet and philosopher, (1898–1944), 252. Forster, michael, 8. Foucault, michel (1926–84), French philosopher, 247. gadamer, Hans-georg (1900–2002), german philosopher, 246, 247. garff, Joakim, 33, 90, 169, 303. goethe, Johann wolfgang (1749–1832), german poet, author, scientist and diplomat, 29. goldschmidt, meïr aaron (1819–87), danish author, 67, 80, 84, 85, 167. Griffiths, Paul J., 219. grimsley, ronald, 162. Hage, Johannes (1800–37), danish editor, 31, 32. Hamlet, 78. Hannay, alastair, 93, 108, 205, 211. Hansen, Jørgen Christian (1812–80), danish actor, 34, 35. Hauch, Carsten (1790–1872), danish poet and dramatist, 81. Hegel, georg wilhelm Friedrich (1770–1831), german philosopher, 7–13, 16, 20, 54, 55, 127, 145, 180, 181, 243, 252, 253. Heiberg, Johan Ludvig (1791–1860), danish poet, playwright and philosopher, 51, 99, 108, 159, 167, 193, 194, 196, 197, 200–3, 207, 208, 246, 264. Heiberg, Johanne Luise, born Pätges (1812–90), danish actress, 107–9, 112. Heidegger, martin (1889–1976), german philosopher, 255. Hirsch, emanuel (1888–1972), german Protestant theologian, 288.

Hoffmann, ernst theodor amadeus (1776–1822), german romantic author, jurist, composer, xi, 162. Holberg, Ludvig (1684–1754), danish dramatist and historian, xi. Homer, 243. Hong, edna H. (1913–2007), american translator, 36. Hong, Howard v. (1912–2010), american translator, 36. Jean Paul, i.e., Johann Paul Friedrich richter (1763–1825), german author, xi, 162. Jegstrup, elsebet, 250. Jephthah, 150. John the baptist, 73. Juliet, 107, 110, 112, 113. Kant, immanuel (1724–1804), german philosopher, 9, 11, 20, 122, 180, 183. Kierkegaard, michael Pedersen (1756–1838), søren Kierkegaard’s father, 205. Kierkegaard, Peter Christian (1805–88), danish theologian, elder brother of søren Kierkegaard, 94. Kierkegaard, søren aabye (1813–55) “another defense of women’s great abilities” (1834), 27–9, 32, 37. “the morning observations in Kjøbenhavnsposten no. 43” (1836), 27, 29–31, 34. “to mr. orla Lehmann” (1836), 30. “on the Polemic of Fædrelandet” (1836), 27, 29, 31, 32, 34. From the Papers of One Still Living (1838), xv, 27, 108, 147, 194, 205–14. The Concept of Irony (1841), 166, 303. Johannes Climacus, or De omnibus dubitandum est (ca. 1842–43), 119, 160.

Index of Persons Either/Or (1843), xv, 1–25, 27–9, 32–4, 37, 57, 77–9, 89, 98, 102, 113, 147, 159–76, 177–92, 194, 195, 199, 201, 226, 243–57, 284–7, 292, 293, 307. “a word of thanks to Professor Heiberg” (1843), 195. “who is the author of Either/Or” (1843), 27, 32, 33. Repetition (1843), xv, 27, 51–66, 79, 86, 163, 171, 195, 250, 251, 255, 284, 285, 287, 303–10. Fear and Trembling (1843), xv, 78, 79, 143–58, 188, 190, 307, 308. Philosophical Fragments (1844), xiv, xv, 18, 28, 117–41, 160, 193. The Concept of Anxiety (1844), xii, xiv, xv, 64, 79, 180, 183, 193, 201, 259–80. Prefaces (1844), xv, 99, 193–204, 273. Stages on Life’s Way (1845), xv, 52, 62–4, 67–88, 97–105, 159, 160, 169–71, 185, 187–91, 199, 202, 223–42, 244, 250–2, 281–301, 304. “a Cursory observation Concerning a detail in Don Giovanni” (1845), 27, 28, 34, 35, 36. “the activity of a travelling esthetician and How He still Happened to Pay for the dinner” (1845), 67, 81, 203. “the dialectical result of a Literary Police action” (1846), 67, 84. Concluding Unscientific Postscript (1846), xi, xv, 28, 34, 64, 65, 79, 86, 97, 117–41, 123, 144, 147, 148, 160, 181, 196–9, 224, 244, 250, 253, 255, 259, 260, 281, 305. A Literary Review of Two Ages (1846), 148, 149. The Book on Adler (ca. 1846–47), xv, 215–21. Works of Love (1847), 132, 183, 188. The Point of View for My Work as an Author (ca. 1848), xi, 224, 238, 240, 259.

313

“the Crisis and a Crisis in the Life of an actress” (1848), xv. Three Discourses at the Communion on Fridays (1849), 39, 193, 287, 288. The Sickness unto Death (1849), xv, 12, 14, 17, 18, 39–41, 44–6, 78, 180, 183. Two Ethical-Religious Essays (1849), 27, 79, 89–96. Practice in Christianity (1850), xv, 39–41, 44–6. An Upbuilding Discourse (1850), 39. On My Work as an Author (1851), xi. The Moment (1855), 147. Journals, notebooks, Nachlaß, 75, 76, 89, 197, 198, 210, 287. Writing Sampler (published posthumously), 89, 197, 199. Kirmmse, bruce, 90, 208. Lacan, Jacques (1901–81), French psychiatrist, 255. Laclos, Pierre Choderlos de (1741–1803), French writer, 162. Lehmann, orla (1810–70), danish politician, 29–32, 202. Leporello, 5. Levin, israel salomon (1810–83), danish man of letters, 97, 101. Lichtenberg, georg Christoph (1742–99), german physicist, satirist, and writer of aphorisms, 293. Lippitt, John, 128. Liunge, andreas Peter (1798–1879), danish editor and author, 31. Lowrie, walter (1868–1959), american translator, xii, 210, 260. Luther, martin (1483–1546), german religious reformer, 31. Lyngbye, Hans Christian (1782–1837), danish pastor, 76. macintyre, alasdair, 181. mackey, Louis H. (1926–2004), american philosopher, 117, 289.

314

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

madsen, Christen (1776–1829), danish revivalist preacher, 264. madsen, Peter, 168. mahn, Jason, 260, 267. marcus aurelius, i.e., marcus aurelius antoninus augustus (121–180), roman emperor and stoic philosopher, 243. margarete, 29. mcCormick, samuel, 108. møller, Peder Ludvig (1814–65), danish critic, 67, 80, 82–4, 167, 202, 203. møller, Poul martin (1794–1838), danish poet and philosopher, xiv, 205, 206. moses, 31. mozart, wolfgang amadeus (1756–91), austrian composer, 5, 34, 163. mulhall, stephen, 118. mynster, Jakob Peter (1775–1854), danish theologian and bishop, 47, 201, 217. nelson, Christopher, 260. nero, i.e., nero Claudius Caesar augustus germanicus, born Lucius domitius ahenobarbus (37–68), roman emperor, 5. nielsen, anna (1803–56), danish actress, 112. nielsen, rasmus (1809–84), danish philosopher, 264. nordentoft, Kresten, 163. novalis, i.e., baron Friedrich von Hardenberg (1772–1801), german lyric poet, xi. oehlenschläger, adam (1779–1850), danish poet, 209. olsen, regine (1822–1904), 81, 167, 225, 303. othello, 63. Pattison, george, 167–9, 206, 209. Plato, 55, 62, 63, 120, 130, 283, 289, 291–3. Poole, roger (1939–2003), english literary scholar, xiii, xiv, 117, 260, 303.

rehm, walter (1901–63), german literary scholar, 162, 163. reitzel, Carl andreas (1789–1853), danish publisher and bookseller, 70. rilke, rainer maria (1875–1926), german poet, 253. roberts, robert, 129. rousseau, Jean-Jacques (1712–78), French philosopher, 76, 83. rudd, anthony, 17–19. rumble, vanessa, 260, 273. saez tajafuerce, begonya, 171, 172. schelling, Friedrich wilhelm Joseph von (1775–1854), german philosopher, xiv. schlegel, Friedrich von (1772–1829), german romantic writer, 162. sibbern, Frederik Christian (1785–1872), danish philosopher, 100. shakespeare, william (1564–1616), english dramatist, 63, 107, 110, 143, 144, 146. shestov, Lev (1866–1938), ukrainianFrench philosopher, 252. smyth, John, 166. socrates, 34, 51, 55, 65, 120–2, 134, 135, 148, 151, 156, 166, 184, 283, 290, 303. spinoza, baruch (1632–77), dutch philosopher, 16. stewart, Jon, 10, 179, 194, 264. strawser, michael, 118. summers, richard, 207, 211. tarquin the Proud, i.e., Lucius tarquinius superbus (died 495 bC), seventh and final king of Rome, 152. tertullian (ca. 160–235), church father, 190. thompson, Josiah, 161. thomte, reidar (1902–94), american philosopher, 260. thulstrup, niels (1924–88), danish theologian, 117.

Index of Persons tieck, Johann Ludwig (1773–1853), german poet, 162. victor of arcis-sur-aube, saint, (6th century), French Hermit, 247. walsh, sylvia, 164, 165, 172, 209. watkin, Julia (1944–2005), british Kierkegaard scholar, 33, 76, 167, 212.

315

westfall, Joseph, 206, 209. weston, michael, 117. westphal, merold, 179, 246. williams, bernard (1929–2003), english philosopher, 22. wittgenstein, Ludwig (1889–1951), austrian philosopher, 22. zerlina, 34, 35.

index of subjects

absurd, 153, 154, 190. acting, 107–15. aestheticism, 1–25, 147, 305. reflective, 3, 5, 12. aesthetics, 58, 59, 61, 74, 148, 159, 172, 179, 185. anxiety, 22, 57, 145, 148, 155, 259, 261, 262, 265, 269–78 passim, 287. apostle, 91–5, 211, 219, 293–7. appropriation, 264. atonement, 91, 269, 270, 278. augsburg Confession, 270. authority, xi, 60, 92, 94, 95, 137, 215–20, 224, 250, 263, 264, 266.

demands of the time, 200. demonic, 254, 273. despair, 3, 11–15, 17–19, 43–6, 48, 113, 119, 127, 161, 180–4, 187, 191, 210, 231, 233, 253, 255, 306. dialectical method, 7, 13. difference, absolute, the, 44, 46. qualitative dialectical, 73, 91, 92, 216. Don Giovanni, 36, 62. double-reflection, 78, 97, 98. doubt, 119, 253. drama, 107–15. duty, 177, 178, 187, 263.

beauty, 9. bible, 73. boredom, 17, 135.

earnestness, 135, 146, 148, 184, 217, 236–9, 265. edifying, 188. either/or, 191. eleatics, 54. enlightenment, 163, 181. ennui, 15. erotic, the, see “love, erotic.” eroticism, 55, 185, 189. eternal and temporal, the, 12, 42, 186. ethics, the ethical, 11, 171, 172, 177–92, 262, 269, 270, 277. suspension of, 151. evil, 11, 57, 182, 183, 207, 271. exterior and interior, see “outer and inner, the.”

choice, 183, 184, 189, 275, 277. radical, 181, 182. choosing oneself, 8, 184. Christendom, 47, 273, 277. Christianity, xi, xiii, 9, 11, 12, 18, 21, 40, 41, 44–48, 53, 89–90, 121, 123, 125–7, 131–7 passim, 148, 186, 219, 255. comic, comedy, 129, 188, 235. communication, xi, 236. indirect, 78, 79, 98, 137, 148, 172. Corsair, the, 36, 67, 80, 82–5, 101, 167, 202, 203. crisis, 107–15. death of the author, xiii, 246. deception, 227, 229–32, 235–40. decision, 178, 189, 190. defiance, 17, 43.

faith, xiii, 42, 44–6, 48, 53, 121, 131, 132, 137, 143–56 passim, 181, 188–90, 278, 307–9. knight of, 144, 150, 307, 308. Fædrelandet, 27, 32, 36, 67, 81, 84–6, 107, 108, 195, 243, 244.

318

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

fatalism, 16. finite and infinite, 12, 42, 130, 134, 151, 211, 307, 309. forgetfulness, 6. freedom, 10, 15–17, 42, 46, 183, 184, 189, 229, 271, 272–5. and necessity, 12, 42. genius, 91–5, 113, 209. good, absolute, 124, 125, 134, 135. highest, 123–5, 133, 134. grace, 46, 131, 278. guilt, 74, 91, 125–7, 130, 131, 151, 225, 232–6, 270, 272–8. guilty/not guilty, 74. happiness, eternal, 123, 124, 131–4. Hegelianism, danish, 201. hero, tragic/knight of infinity, 150, 307. history, 127, 178, 187. hope, 130, 131, 186, 306, 307. humor, xiii, 40, 117, 128–30, 132, 187, 188, 211. imaginary construction, 74, 76. imitation of Christ, 46–8. immanence and transcendence, 91, 94, 124, 132, 180, 188. immediacy, immediate, 4, 5, 113, 125, 163, 180, 183, 187, 190. first and second, 180. incarnation, 122. inclosing-reserve, 71, 227, 254, 255. incognito, 131, 132. infinite (see also “finite and infinite”), 128, 129, 307. interesting, the, 166. inward deepening, 48, 126, 260. inwardness, 136, 250, 254, 255, 260, 265, 266. irony, xiii, 33, 35, 120, 128, 129, 131, 132, 166, 211. irrationalism, 122, 182.

Kjøbenhavns flyvende Post, 27, 28, 30, 194. Kjøbenhavnsposten, 27, 30, 31. leap, 272, 275. life-view, 128, 147, 155, 205–12 passim. love, 4, 46, 69, 98, 122, 132, 134, 178, 183, 185–90, 226, 231, 239, 240, 252, 263, 289, 304. erotic, 5, 7, 9, 13, 63, 163, 164, 171, 186–8. reflective, 9, 10. romantic, 9, 10. maieutics, 2, 21, 59. marriage, 9, 10, 78, 99, 170, 178, 185–90, 199, 228, 231, 251–3, 287, 288, 292. martyrdom, 85, 93, 94. meaning/meaninglessness, 14, 233, 235. mediation, 54, 253. melancholy, 7, 14, 55, 57, 70, 134, 181. metaphysics, 12, 55, 118, 122, 210, 251, 255, 264, 269, 270, 276, 277. middle ages, 234, 244, 250, 253. midwifery, see “maieutics.” molbo, the men of, 77. monasticism/monastic life, 244, 250–3. motion, 54. movement, 54. music, 141–9 passim. natural man, 40, 42. negativity, 9, 10, 13, 15, 16, 46, 134. nihilism, 16, 17, 189, 210. nook of the eight Paths, 290, 291. novel, 51, 57, 67–9, 119, 162, 205, 207, 209, 210, 212. offense, 40, 44, 45, 48. opera, 34–6. outer and inner, the, 250, 251, 253–5. paganism, 9, 186, 189. paradox, 122, 145, 188, 275. absolute, 122.

Index of Subjects

319

reason, 121, 122. recollection, 6, 18, 54, 98, 99, 121, 130, 283, 288–91, 293, 296, 297. reflection, 164, 172, 183, 187. religiousness a and b, 21, 124–7, 130, 131, 137, 151. repentance, 273, 277, 278. repetition, 53–5, 58, 99, 234, 286, 292, 293, 305–8. resignation, 78, 126, 130, 133, 151, 186, 255. knight of, 150, 151. responsibility, 21, 82, 91, 95, 102, 109, 110, 113, 123, 124, 129, 136, 137, 144, 246, 264, 266, 271, 272, 275–8, 281. revelation, 18, 122, 215–20 passim. romanticism, romantic, 162, 307. german, xi. royal theater in Copenhagen, 107.

sin, 17, 40–2, 44, 45, 48, 121, 259, 262, 263, 267, 271, 272, 274–8. hereditary, 41, 42, 264, 265, 269, 270, 275, 276. single individual, the, 45, 144, 264. smalkald articles, 270. solitude, 254, 255. sorrow, 7. speculation/speculative thinking, 29, 33, 39, 54, 95, 118–20, 122, 123, 129, 134, 137, 179, 181, 188, 262, 264, 267, 276, 277. spiritlessness, 273, 277. stagecoach horn, 52. stages, 1–3, 9–11, 15, 19, 22, 69, 72–5, 107, 114, 126, 127, 131, 136, 146, 147, 159, 166, 172, 180, 181, 185, 187–91, 226, 244, 250, 251, 254, 259, 265. aesthetic, 1, 107, 114, 131, 159, 166, 180, 181, 187, 189, 191, 226, 244, 250, 251, 254. ethical, 2, 3, 9–11, 15, 17, 19–22, 131, 180, 181, 187, 226, 244, 250, 254, 265. religious, 22, 69, 72–5, 107, 131, 147, 185, 188, 190, 244, 250, 251, 254, 265. subjective, thinker, 134, 135. truth, 144, 185, 250, 254. subjectivity, 45, 118, 123–6, 132, 136, 180, 182, 183, 250, 254, 255, 271. suffering, 15, 18, 47, 48, 57, 69, 72, 74, 125, 126, 130, 131, 133, 151, 208, 226n, 227–9, 234, 251. synthesis, 10, 42, 43, 186, 188, 255. system, 8, 54, 119, 120, 123, 127, 137, 200–2, 264.

salvation, 125. seduction, seducer, 2, 3, 5, 21, 22, 32, 77, 147, 162, 164–72. sickness unto death, the, 42, 43, 48. silence, 68, 71, 72, 267, 291.

temporal, see “eternal and temporal, the.” theater, 58, 107–15, 305. criticism, 34, 35, 109. time-eternity, see “eternal and temporal, the.”

passion, 123, 133, 145, 251, 253, 261, 268, 271, 305. pathos, 123, 125, 126, 130, 132, 134–6, 184, 253, 261–3, 268, 278. phenomenology, 123–7, 129, 137. pleasure, 4–6, 9, 10, 13, 15, 17. poetry/poet, 4, 6, 21, 39, 59, 68, 69, 72–5, 93, 101, 103, 120, 143–50, 155, 156, 160, 164–6, 168, 186, 189, 194, 201, 207, 251–3, 261, 281, 282, 304–6, 308. possibility, 12, 16, 54, 72, 123, 161, 171–3, 185, 187, 219, 251, 267, 271, 272, 275, 278, 305. postmodernism, xiii. press, freedom of, 29, 32. prototype, 47. psychoanalysis, 252, 255. psychology, 259–80.

320

Kierkegaard’s Pseudonyms

transcendence, see “immanence and transcendence.”

women, 29, 63, 99, 159, 169–71, 252–4, 292. emancipation of, 28.