Soren Kierkegaard

Skamlingsbanken, where, after being provoked by a baptized Jew, he
shouted from the podium to the many thousands gathered there: “I am a
Jew. What am I doing among you?”
Later, over a bit of French bread and a glass of wine, Goldschmidt poured
out his heart to Møller, sharing with him the sufferings connected with
being a Jew, the unending snubs, the hostility, the mistrust, the hatred.
Møller listened, speechless. Then he stood up, took his hat and his cane,
and on his way out the door he said, “With feelings like that, one writes a
novel.” And that was what Goldschmidt did. That very evening he com-
posed the chapter that would form the conclusion of his novel,A Jew, pub-
lished on November 6, 1845, under the pseudonym Adolf Meyer.
The book attracted a great deal of attention. It was the subject of a very
positive review inFædrelandetby Carl Ploug; and six years later it appeared
in an English language translation and was subsequently sold as bookstall
literature in America. Kierkegaard read it right away and found it in general
very good—apart from “the abominably botched ending, that is certainly a
sign of great immaturity.” When he met the proud debutant author on the
street one day, he asked which of the book’s characters the author thought
he had portrayed best. Goldschmidt had no doubt about this, it had to be
the principal character, Jacob Bendixen. No, replied Kierkegaard, it is the
mother. This caught Goldschmidt completely by surprise; he hadn’t given
her a thought when he wrote the book. “I thought so!” was Kierkegaard’s
knowing and pointed reply. And there were more kind words where these
came from. Kierkegaard next asked whether Goldschmidt had read all the
positive reviews and, in that case, whether he had considered their signifi-
cance. Goldschmidt had done so, and he believed that the point of the
reviews had been quite simply to praise the book. “No,” Kierkegaard re-
plied, “the point is that there are people who want to see you as the author
ofA Jew, but not as the editor ofThe Corsair;The Corsairis P. L. Møller.”
When Goldschmidt heard this he was seized with panic on behalf of
Møller because he realized that being identified withThe Corsairwould ruin
Møller’s reputation and his future career. Goldschmidt therefore protested,
reminding Kierkegaard thatThe Corsairhad been founded long before
Goldschmidt had met Møller, but Kierkegaard merely smiled, shook his
head, and went on his way. Møller became despondent when he heard
about it and pleaded with Goldschmidt to point out to Kierkegaard again,
and yet again, the true state of affairs. Goldschmidt did so at the earliest
opportunity, but in vain: “The philosopher was unyielding and merely said
that there are reports in the world that are more accurate than any police
report. I asked, ‘How can you have any report in this matter that is more
reliable than mine?’ Then he laughed in his odd way, and I was tempted to