Soren Kierkegaard

(Romina) #1

PREFACE


BISHOPMARTENSENwas in his official residence, standing slightly concealed
behind a curtain. The niche by the window provided an excellent view
across the square adjacent to the Church of Our Lady, with the Metropoli-
tan School in the background, the University of Copenhagen on the left,
and the Church of Our Lady itself on the right. It was Sunday, November
18, 1855, just before two o’clock in the afternoon. All at once a crowd of
people dressed in black practically burst from the church, gathering at first
in small groups, then disappearing in every direction.
A couple of hours later the episcopal pen, full of indignation, scratched
its way across the pages of a letter to Martensen’s old pupil and friend of
many years’ standing, Ludvig Gude, who was a pastor in Hunseby on the
island of Lolland: “Today, after a service at the Church of Our Lady, Kier-
kegaard was buried; there was a large cortege of mourners (in grand style,
how ironic!). We have scarcely seen the equal of thetactlessnessshown by
the family in having him buried on aSunday, between two religious ser-
vices, from the nation’smost important church. It could not be prevented by
law, however, although it could have been prevented byproper conduct,
which, however, Tryde lacked here as he does everywhere it is required.
Kierkegaard’s brother spoke at the church (as a brother, not as a pastor). At
this point I do not know anything at all about what he said and how he said
it. The newspapers will soon be running a spate of these burial stories. I
understand the cortege was composed primarily of young people and a large
number of obscure personages. As far as is known, there were no dignitaries
present.”
Inside the coffin—reportedly quite a small one—that was being driven
out to the family burial plot that November day lay the corpse of a person
who over the years had become so impossible that now, after his death, it
was really not possible to put him anywhere. For where in the world could
one get rid of a dead man who had carried on a one-man theological revo-
lution during the final years of his life, calling the pastors cannibals, mon-
keys, nincompoops, and other crazy epithets? What sense did it make to
give such a person a Christian burial in consecrated ground? That this same
person also left behind a body of writing whose breadth, originality, and


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