of literary taste had now come to an end. The paper was read by everyone,
from plebeian to aristocrat. Indeed, it even found its way into the royal
chambers, where the little gray hairs on King Christian VIII’s head must
have stood on end—he can hardly have been enamored of the paper’s re-
publican zeal. Hans Christian Andersen, who also got his share of the paper’s
attention, wrote quite accurately about the sort of traffic to which trashy
magazines often give rise: “In the finer homes only the porter or the coach-
man subscribes, but it is read to pieces by the gentlefolk.”
The November 14, 1845, issue ofThe Corsaircontained a review of
Carsten Hauch’s novelThe Castle on the Rhinein which Kierkegaard, in an
aside, was praised at the expense of Orla Lehmann, “for Lehmann will die
and be forgotten, but Victor Eremita will never die.” The following day
Kierkegaard composed a lengthy “Plea toThe Corsair” which among other
things, contains the following: “Sing sang resches Tubalcain, which translates
as Cruel, bloodthirstyCorsair, almighty Sultan, you who hold the lives of
men like a toy in your mighty hand and like a whim in the fury of your
disapproval, oh, permit yourself to be moved to pity, put an end to these
torments—kill me, but do not make me immortal!” The plea, which is
signed “Victor Eremita,” remained in Kierkegaard’s desk drawer, but it
demonstrated that Kierkegaard could hit the right note and that he was
inclined toward engaging in an intellectual cockfight withThe Corsair, thus
proving that he, too—he, if anyone—knew the art of being witty, and had
a university degree to prove it! So in early June of 1845, when he mentions
The Corsairin his journals for the first time, not merely does he reveal a
quite thoroughgoing knowledge of the magazine’s habits, but he also makes
it clear that he is among those still laughing, those who want to keep on
amusing themselves—that is, at the expense of others: “It is curious that
The Corsairhas never hit upon portraying people in the style of classical
antiquity, naked and with a fig leaf. A drawing in that style of Hercules or
someone similar, for example, and then, underneath: Pastor Grundtvig.”
Comic Composition and Goldschmidt’s Flashy Jacket
Kierkegaard joined in the fun, approved of the format, and may very well
have supplied some good, wicked ideas to Goldschmidt when they ran into
each other on the streets of Copenhagen. And this happened frequently.
They became acquainted with each other as early as the summer of 1838,
when they met at a party at the home of the Rørdams out in Frederiksberg.
“I was certainly not a calm, attentive observer, but I still have a mental
photograph of him,” wrote Goldschmidt, who remembered Kierkegaard as