1853
A Life in the Underworld
“I have read what I must call the most monstrous of all the polemics that
have ever been written against me,A Life in the Underworld. The author is
anonymous, but in reality it is Rasmus Nielsen, just as surely as I am the
person writing this letter.” The person writing the letter was Martensen;
the letter was addressed to Gude; the date was February 21, 1853. “I am
thepersonwhoisdepictedas‘ASoulafterDeath’—naturally,withoutnam-
ing me by name—and I am found guilty of having done absolutely nothing
for the sake of Christ, while I was alive, but of having sought only to ad-
vancemy ownreputation....He[Nielsen,the“anonymous” author]him-
self appears in the work and encounters me in the person of ‘a rag,’ who
confronts me with the assertion that it was only with the assistance of
worldly weapons and cliques that I was able to best him in literary combat.
Paulli, Mynster, and others also appear in the work without being men-
tioned by name. For example, Paulli speaks at my funeral, et cetera, et
cetera...Thisodious business falls outside all categories....[I]amreally
concerned about him. If only he had a friend who could bring some peace
to his soul!” Martensen also reported that Mynster did not want to read the
book, while Paulli, on the other hand, had read it but, like Martensen him-
self, had sent it back to the book dealer because he did not want to lend
support to such terribly trashy business. “It is a dreadful scandal, and I dare
say quite frankly thatthe very best thing for himwould be for this book to go
its way unnoticed....Oh,thethings one has to experience—it is truly
appalling....Hehasgone out on Kierkegaardian thin ice, far from all
human assistance, where he must slip and fall—if he avoids fallingin! Natu-
rally, Kierkegaard is not the man who is willing or able to take care of him
and give him some guidance. How will it all end?”
The occasion of all this fuss was Rasmus Nielsen’s newly published book,
A Life in the Underworld, which had appeared under the pseudonym Walther
Paying. The book, just under two hundred pages long, is a sort of roman a`
clef, displaying rather more imagination than talent, but it is entertaining
reading and—as the furious Martensen put it—with its “infinite number of692