Soren Kierkegaard

Discourses, which Kierkegaard supposed he had read, butOn My Wor kas an
Author. “Yes, there is a thread that runs through the whole of it,” Mynster
commented, “but it was spun after the fact—though, of course, you yourself
say as much.” Kierkegaard replied that what was especially noteworthy was
that throughout all the years and all the works, “[I had solely] devoted myself
to one thing and that my pen had never deviated, not once.” Mynster ob-
jected thatA Literary Reviewcould probably be labeled as one such deviation,
but Kierkegaard would not comment on that because the circumstances
surrounding that work had already been explained inOn My Wor kas an
Author. “The sense I then had of Mynster was that, all in all, he had been
impressed by the little book and that he was therefore at a loss for words.”
Despite the scant praise, the atmosphere was positive. Mynster was
“pleased and satisfied,” which was particularly welcome since Kierkegaard
had genuinely looked forward to talking with him “because today was the
anniversary of my father’s death, and I wanted everything to be as it should
be on this day.” He related this to Mynster, who apparently did not know
what to make of this sentiment, but all the same the conversation was “ex-
tremely friendly” and “not without emotion.” Still, Kierkegaard did not
refrain from once again “speaking a few words in which I expressed my
disapproval of what he had said concerning Goldschmidt in his most recent
book, something I especially felt the need to mention, since I had expressed
so much devotion to him. Then we parted, he with his usual ‘Good-bye,
dear friend.’ ”
This conversation was, if not his last with Mynster, then in any event the
last one Kierkegaard recounted in detail. In a journal entry—“The Possible
Collision with Mynster”—dating from mid-1852, Kierkegaard wrote that
despite all their differences of opinion he was “devoted [to Mynster] with
a hypochondriacal passion and on a scale that he has never suspected.” It
could scarcely be better formulated—“a hypochondriacal passion!”
The ambivalent passion Kierkegaard felt may have been mirrored to
some extent by a similar passion on Mynster’s part. At one point, when
Mynster’s wife Fanny had become annoyed at Kierkegaard’s unending visits
and advised her husband not to receive the bothersome guest so often,
Mynster had merely replied, “Oh, well, just let me go out to see him—he
may be the only person who really likes me.” Mynster had been able to
sense his profound kinship with Kierkegaard, who for his part, even after
the most fatiguing of encounters, never wearied of his refrain: “And yet I
do love Bishop Mynster. My one desire is to do all I can to strengthen his
reputation. For I have admired him and, humanly speaking, still do. And
every time I can do something for his benefit, I remember my father, whom
I believe it pleases.”