Soren Kierkegaard

entire person was rather close to worldliness....Butthis plain fact betrays
the whole thing.”
On May 2, 1851, following a good many weeks of contorted reflections,
Kierkegaard had a conversation with Mynster just prior to the bishop’s an-
nual visitation journey. At first they spoke a little about the political situation
of the day. Then Kierkegaard touched on his tactical use of Anti-Climacus,
without which, he said, he would have been unable to criticize Rudelbach;
Mynster agreed that this was so. Kierkegaard repeated that whatever Myn-
ster might think ofPractice, the book was and remained a defense of the
established order. Then Kierkegaard suddenly turned the conversation to
Mynster’s essay and said directly that the reason he had not thanked Mynster
for it earlier was that it contained something he could not accept, the busi-
ness about Goldschmidt. At this, the bishop was somewhat nonplussed and
tried to smooth things over by explaining to Kierkegaard that it was much
finer to be “gifted” than merely “talented.”
Kierkegaard was furthermore of the opinion that Mynster’s praise could
be understood as putting the episcopal seal of approval on Goldschmidt’s
behavior, and he reminded Mynster that he had enemies who might perhaps
take advantage of his incautiousness. Kierkegaard again and again insisted
that he was especially concerned for Mynster’s reputation and for any possi-
ble damage it might suffer—it must not be forgotten that Goldschmidt was
an “expert at insidiousness.” Mynster ought to have demanded that
Goldschmidt issue a retraction, and by the same token, now that he had been
praised by Mynster, Goldschmidt himself ought to recant his past activities as
an editor. “Then I said to him, ’It might seem strange to you that a younger
person speaks in such a manner to someone older, but all the same, you will
surely permit me to do so and will let me give you some advice: If there is
anything about me that you disapprove of, if you would like to give me a
slap, do it, do it. I can certainly take it, and I will surely take care to see that
you do not suffer for it. But above all, do not do it in such a manner that
your own reputation comes to suffer because of it. It is your reputation that
concerns me.’” Kierkegaard was anxious to have Mynster grasp this point;
he leaned across the table and practically wrote his words on the tabletop,
so that Mynster would have no doubts about what he meant, and at the
same time he was careful to give the bishop the opportunity to make a
couple of comments as indications that he had understood what Kierkegaard
had said. It was as though Kierkegaard were addressing himself to himself,
as if Mynster were his shadow, his dopplega ̈nger.
“In other respects, my conversation exuded all the devotion to him I have
from my father,” Kierkegaard concluded. In a gesture somewhat unusual for
Kierkegaard, he also chatted a little about Mynster’s family and his daugh-