Soren Kierkegaard

ded in one of the Young Man’s furious monologues. In November 1846,
Kierkegaard again immersed himself inAdresseavisen, to which he wrote
the following emphatic ode: “O, thou great arena for the greatest expecta-
tions—O, thou spacious grave for disappointed hopes—Adresseavisen.It
merely gives the appearance of being a peaceful newspaper. Alas, within,
what struggle, what adversity! Each advertiser tries to press forward in more
striking fashion than the others. Even the letters of the alphabet are drawn
into the fray....Over there a merchant staggers under the colossal weight
of the advertisement’s enormous letters, and one reads what is written be-
neath in smaller type: ‘in Halmstræde, at the fourth place on the left from
Østergade, in the low-ceilinged room....’‘Inthelow-ceilinged room’—
these words take on a poignant significance; moved (and one is moved),
one thinks of the unfortunate merchant in the low-ceilinged room. He may
be buried alive, because it is clear that it is the weight of the advertisement
that is crushing the room.”
Kierkegaard was fascinated by the advertising competition that revealed
itself even in the typography, “when one advertiser tries to trample the
others underfoot with the help of gigantic alphabet letters!” Kierkegaard
also entertained the notion of a similarly boisterous publication: “N.B. Just
as with Nicolaus Notabene’sPrefaces, I must again publish a little polemical
piece. I think it could be titled ‘Models’ or ‘Samples of Various Sorts of
Writing.’ ”
The contemplated work was never presented to the reading public, but
the years 1844 through 1847 saw the production of a great many studies
for such a work, bearing the collective titleWriting Samplesand, likePrefaces,
the sketches satirize the hack writers of the day and the economic considera-
tions that governed the book market and feverishly confused sales figures
with quality. If we weld the many sketches into a whole, we encounter the
reasonably focused visage of an “apprentice author” whose first name was
to have been “Willibald” or “Alexander” or “Alexius” or “Theodore” or
simply “Holger,” with the last name “Rosenpind,” subsequently altered to
“Rosenblad.” In the end, however, the character was called “A.B.C.D.E.F.
Goodhope.”
Concealed behind the tomfoolery there is a serious and ideologically
based disapproval of the rampant culture industry and the globalization of
gossip-column journalism. In other words, what is under fire is the triumph
of superficiality, and A.B.C.D.E.F. Goodhope is therefore interested not
least in the external appearance of the book, which ideally should be compa-
rable to Heiberg’s showy publications: “N.B. The book should be decked
out with all possible elegance: a border decoration around every page (as in
Urania); every section should have its own typeface; decorative and eye-