Kierkegaard rented three rooms on thebelle e ́tagefrom a Mrs. Borries, who
hadatfirstbeenratherskepticalaboutrentingtohimbecauseshehadheard
that Kierkegaard was known for “making things more difficult” (as Johan-
nes Climacus himself had described his mission in thePostscript), and this
was not the kind of lodger she wanted in her rooms! But she received him
politely,andafterhavinginspectedtherooms,Kierkegaardsatdownonthe
sofa,lookedaroundwitheyesthatMrs.Borriesfoundstrangelycaptivating,
andthensaid,inhisfinevoice,“Yes,Iwillstayhere.”Mrs.Borriesimmedi-
ately gave up all her reservations and, as an exception to her usual practice,
evenagreedtoarrangefordomestichelp.Thisjobwenttoanimpoverished
shoemaker’s widow, who was trustworthy and capable, but unfortunately
rather slow-witted and thus without the least sense for the irony and the
little sarcastic remarks she witnessed every now and again. In other respects
Kierkegaardwasaquiettenant,butwhenhebeganhisattackontheclergy,
Mrs.Borriesbecameterrifiedat“theexplosivepowershehadinresidence.”
Her terror, however, gave way to sympathy that culminated the day Kier-
kegaard was to be admitted to Frederik’s Hospital. For on that day, when
she opened her door, there stood Kierkegaard, directly opposite her, inhis
doorway, standing “erect, though supported by someone else, and he took
off his hat to her with a look that was just as enchanting as the one with
which he had previously conquered her.”
WhenhemovedintothesemuchmorecrampedquartersatMrs.Borries’
place, Kierkegaard probably rid himself of a portion of his library, which
he sold to various used-book dealers, including A. G. Salomon, to whom
he had already sold six rixdollars’ worth of books in the early part of June
- Kierkegaard generally had to accustom himself to a more modest
standard of living, and during his final years he was subjected to a sort of
financialoversightexercisedbyhisbrother-in-lawHenrikFerdinandLund,
who dispensed the remains of his now greatly diminished fortune in small
allotments.
These more straitened physical and economic circumstances did not
agreewithKierkegaard,buthewashappytobebackintownagain,because
it was here, right in the middle of everything, that he belonged: “I am now
living so close to the Church of Our Lady that I can hear the cries of the
watchmanatnightwhenhecallsouteveryquarter-hour.AndwhenIocca-
sionally awaken at night—well, a person might occasionally be quite inter-
ested in finding out what time it is....Hecries out in a loud, shrill voice,
as clearly as if he were standing right next to me, and so loudly that he
would awaken me if I were asleep (something I would not want): Hallo,
watchman! Then, after this heroic use of his powers, he lowers his voice
and softly says what time it is. And this is how it goes, from one quarter-