Soren Kierkegaard

the man behind a number of polemical articles in the journalsPortefeuille
andFigaro; that he had been awarded the university’s gold medal for his
prize essay answering the question “Have taste and the sense for poetry in
France progressed or regressed in recent times, and for what reason?”; and
finally that Møller was said to be not merely satirical but also malicious, a
feature that was further emphasized, Goldschmidt noted, by his splendid
white teeth, which were revealed by even the slightest smile, and which in
turn were a reminder that a man can bite.
Møller had just returned to Denmark from a trip to Norway, where he
had been asked to convey greetings to Goldschmidt from the Norwegian
author Henrik Wergeland. He could also report thatThe Corsairwas so
highly regarded in Norway that people thought it ought to be Norwegian!
Naturally, Goldschmidt was almost bursting with pride and joy when
Møller informed him that the Norwegians’ enthusiasm was not due so
much to its political line as to its literary qualities, or its “high standing in
the category of the aesthetic,” as Møller so elegantly formulated it. “I thus
was granted, even if somewhat uncertainly, a place in the world, a new
raison d’eˆtre. I was lifted out of obscurity and self-enclosedness to the border
of something bright, wide open, and extraordinary. All aesthetic and poetic
instincts had awakened within me, but they were fettered. Møller seemed
to me to have the key to open them, the key to myself. I needed him as a
deliverer.” Apparently it is not only woman who can quicken the poetic
instincts: The encounter with Møller became an initiation into a life of
poetry, and it was understandable that Goldschmidt wrote that Møller had
worked “magic on me.”
Goldschmidt’s deliverance took place in early February 1843, when he
had published a novel in the style of James Fenimore Cooper inThe Corsair
and was called upon by Møller, who in his characteristic fashion confided
the following: “I have read your Cooperesque novel while at my barber’s.
It fit in well with the application of the lukewarm shaving soap and it almost
fit in with the shave, until just before the end, when my nose was cut as I
made a leap because of what I will now tell you: In its final lines your story
also makes a leap. It springs right into comic composition.” Goldschmidt
had not told Møller of his struggles with Kierkegaard’s advice, so these
words made Goldschmidt feel as though he had attained the unattainable
and that, “like a sleepwalker, I had solved the Kierkegaardian problem and
had produced comic composition! ‘God be praised!’ I exclaimed.”
Even though Møller’s praise strengthened their relationship, it never de-
veloped into a friendship in the deeper sense. Møller was too distant, aloof,
and sarcastic for that, and they never came to be on a familiar footing.
Møller believed that people of intellect should not get too close to one