Soren Kierkegaard

gaard’sEdifying Discourseswith great interest. They would be even better if
they were not marked by so much dialectical web-spinning, and if they had
the noble simplicity of yours.” Whether Kierkegaard sent Mynster his earli-
est writings or whether the bishop bought them himself is not known, but
there are surviving copies, containing dedications by Kierkegaard, of the
Postscript,Works of Love,The Lily of the Field and the Bird of the Air, andThe
Sickness unto Death. The dedication is repeated almost stereotypically: “To
His Excellency, the Right Reverend Mr. Bishop Mynster, Knight of Dan-
nebrog and Member of Dannebrog, et alia, with Profound Veneration from
the Author.” There was also respect, even if it was mixed with a daring
little dash of irony, when Kierkegaard mentioned Mynster in print for the
first time, in the sixth of hisPrefaces, which solemnly thanked the bishop
for his edifying writings. “The firm Kts,” Mynster’s alias, was also acknowl-
edged politely three times in thePostscript, just asThe Point of Viewcontains
praise for this same “firm” because it had understoodFear and Tremblingas
“a special sort of aesthetic production.”
So much for externalities. Internally, things were quite otherwise and
had long been so, particularly after the difficulties withThe Corsair.The
two of them never spoke of the episode itself, but Kierkegaard was deeply
disappointed that Mynster did not so much as lift his little finger in this
connection. And after all, on March 6, 1846,The Corsairhad dragged the
bishop into the affair by poking fun at Kierkegaard because he refused either
to be criticized or praised by anyone—with the exception of Mynster, who
on the other hand, had been granted “a monopoly on praising him.” More-
over, the same journal had treated Mynster’s supplement to theEvangelical
Christian Hymnalquite rudely the very moment it appeared, yet Mynster
had pretended not to notice.
But it was not only in connection withThe Corsairthat Kierkegaard
felt he had been left in the lurch. The plans Mynster had suggested for
Kierkegaard’s future also indicated differences between the two men. As
early as November 5, 1846, Kierkegaard wrote in his journal: “When
Bishop Mynster advises me to become a country pastor, he obviously does
not understand me. It is certainly true that this is what I want, but our
premises are entirely different. For he assumes that in one way or another
I want to get ahead by doing this, that, after all, I want tobesomething.
And there’s the rub: I want to be as little as possible; that is precisely the
idea of my melancholia.” As time passed, it became clear to Kierkegaard
that what had at first looked like a misunderstanding on Mynster’s part was
in fact a tactical maneuver. January 20, 1847: “Even though Mynster has a
certain goodwill toward me—in his heart of hearts perhaps even more than
he admits—it is evident that he regards me as asuspect and even as a danger-