Soren Kierkegaard

of royal bastards on his conscience .So Kierkegaard was surely right in re-
marking that “No woman, not even the most brilliantly gifted woman,
could have had real power over him .For one thing, he was too intelligent
for that, and for another he was a little too given to the masculine supersti-
tion that men are more intelligent than women.” If, on the other hand, the
king had traveled to southern climes and encountered a crafty Jesuit who
understood how to make himself intriguing, it would have been extremely
easy for the priest to dupe Denmark’s Christian and make such a fool of
him that he would begin to see ghosts in broad daylight.
At present the king was face to face with Kierkegaard, who was not a
Jesuit or a ghost, but neither was he a quite ordinary person, and in any case
he knew how to benefit from royal favor .With ill-concealed satisfaction he
noted that the distinguished people who had previously taken pleasure at
his public misfortune in the wake ofThe Corsairwould change their tune
when they learned that he hobnobbed confidentially with an absolute mon-
arch .Furthermore—as we learn in a subordinate clause—Kierkegaard was
using these official visits to make himself worthy of a possible “official posi-
tion.” At one point in their second conversation, the king had spoken en-
thusiastically about Sorø and had asked whether Kierkegaard might not be
interested in an appointment at that honorable academy .Sorø was too far
away—and furthermore Carsten Hauch and other sinister sympathizers of
P .L .Møller were down there—so Kierkegaard had to find a way out of it.
Kierkegaard had learned from the newspaper that the king had been out
fishing that very morning, and he therefore answered with a little parable
to the effect that “in addition to their regular lures, fishermen have an odd
little lure with which they sometimes catch the best fish—and I am such an
odd little lure.”
The king then let Sorø be and—implying some possible bit of generos-
ity—asked whether Kierkegaard had any travel plans at all .No, none what-
ever, answered Kierkegaard, but were he to travel it would at most be a
little jaunt to Berlin .“You must surely have many interesting acquaintances
there,” the king obligingly responded .“No, Your Majesty, in Berlin I live
entirely isolated and work hardest of all.” The king clearly did not grasp a
word of this .“But then you could just as well travel to Smørum-Ovre [a
tiny, rural village],” he exclaimed, heartily amused at his own wit .“No,
Your Majesty, whether I travel to Smørum-Ovre or Smørum-Nedre, I
would have no anonymity, no concealment by four hundred thousand peo-
ple.” Kierkegaard intended this as a pointed little remark, but the king had
apparently given up the thought of investing in the eccentric little magister
and he therefore merely replied, “Yes, that’s quite true.”