My relation to “her” - August 24, 1849. Infandum me jubes, Regina, renovare dolorem
1841
My Lord God, give me once more the courage to hope; merciful God let me hope once again, fructify my barren and infertile mind.
My doubt is terrible.—Nothing can withstand it—it is a cursed hunger and I can swallow up every argument, every consolation and sedative—I rush at 10,000 miles a second through every obstacle.
It is a positive starting point for philosophy when Aristotle says that philosophy begins with wonder, not as in our day with doubt. Moreover the world will learn that the thing is not to begin with the negative, and the reason why it has succeeded up to the present is that it has never really given itself over to the negative, and so has never seriously done what it said. Its doubt is mere child’s play.
For the rights of understanding to be valid one must venture out into life, out on the sea and lift up one’s voice, even though God hears it not, and not stand on the shore and watch others fighting and struggling—only then does understanding acquire its official sanction, for to stand on one leg and prove God’s existence is a very different thing from going on one’s knees and thanking him.
My relation to “her”11
August 24, 1849. Infandum me jubes, Regina, renovare dolorem
Regine Olsen—I saw her first at the Rørdams. I really saw her there before, at a time when I did not know her family. (In a certain sense I feel a responsibility towards Bollette Rørdam. Earlier on she made a certain impression upon me and I perhaps the same impression upon her; but in all innocence, purely intellectual.)
Even before my father died I had decided upon her. He died (Aug. 9, 1838). I read for my examination. During the whole of that time I let her being penetrate mine.
In the summer of 1840 I took my theological examination.
Without further ceremony I thereupon called at their house. I went to Jutland and even at that time I was perhaps fishing for her, e.g. by lending them books in my absence and by suggesting that they should read certain passages.
In August I returned. The period from August 9 till the beginning of September I used in the strict sense to approach her.
On September 8 I left my house with the firm purpose of deciding the matter. We met each other in the street outside their house. She said there was nobody at home. I was foolhardy enough to look upon that as an invitation, just the opportunity I wanted. I went in with her. We stood alone in the living room. She was a little uneasy. I asked her to play me something as she usually did. She did so; but that did not help me. Then suddenly I took the music away and closed it, not without a certain violence, threw it down on the piano and said : “Oh, what do I care about music now! It is you I am searching for, it is you whom I have sought after for two years.” She was silent. I did nothing else to make an impression upon her; I even warned her against myself, against my melancholy. When, however, she spoke about Schlegel I said: “Let that relationship be a parenthesis; after all the priority is mine.” (N.B. It was only on the 10th that she spoke of Schlegel; on the 8th she did not say a word.)
She remained quite silent. At last I left, for I was anxious lest someone should come and find both of us, and she so disturbed. I went immediately to Etatsraad Olsen. I know that I was terribly concerned that I had made too great an impression upon her. I also feared that my visit might lead to a misunderstanding and even harm her reputation.
Her father said neither yes nor no, but he was willing enough as I could see. I asked for a meeting: it was granted to me for the afternoon of the 10th. I did not say a single word to persuade her. She said, Yes.
I immediately assumed a relation to the whole family, and turned all my virtuosity upon her father whom, moreover, I have always loved.
But inwardly; the next day I saw that I had made a false step. A penitent such as I was, my vita ante acta, my melancholy, that was enough.
I suffered unspeakably at that time.
She seemed to notice nothing. On the contrary her spirits were so high that once she said she had accepted me out of pity. In short, I have never known such high spirits.
In one sense that was the danger. If she does not take it more to heart, I thought, than her own words betray: “if she thought I only came from force of habit she would break off the engagement at once”; if she does not take it more to heart, then I am saved. I pulled myself together again. In another sense I must admit my weakness, that for a moment she vexed me.
Then I set my whole strength to work—she really gave way and precisely the opposite happened, she gave herself unreservedly to me, she worshipped me. To a certain extent I myself bear the guilt of that. While I perceived the difficulty of the position only too clearly, and recognised that I must use the maximum of strength in order if possible to burst through my melancholy, I had said to her: “Surrender to me; your pride makes everything easier for me.” A perfectly true word; honest towards her, melancholy and treacherous towards myself.12
And now of course my melancholy woke once more. Her devotion once again put the whole “responsibility ” upon me on a tremendous scale, whereas her pride had almost made me free from “responsibility.” My opinion is, and my thought was, that it was God’s punishment upon me.
I cannot decide clearly what purely emotional impression she made upon me. One thing is certain : that she gave herself to me, almost worshipping me, asking me to love her, which moved me to such an extent that I was willing to risk all for her. How much I loved her is shown by the fact that I always tried to hide from myself how much she had moved me, which however really has no relation to the passions. If I had not been a penitent, had not had my vita ante acta, had not been melancholy, my union with her would have made me happier than I had ever dreamed of being. But in so far as I was what, alas, I was, I had to say that I could be happier in my unhappiness without her than with her; she had moved me and I would have liked, more than liked, to have done everything for her.
But there was a divine protest, that is how I understood it. The wedding. I had to hide such a tremendous amount from her, had to base the whole thing upon something untrue.
I wrote to her and sent her back the ring. The letter is to be found word for word in the “psychological experiment.” 13 With all my strength I allowed that to become purely historical; for I spoke to no one of it, not to a single man; I who am more silent than the grave. Should the book come into her hands I wanted her to be reminded of it.
What did she do? In her womanly despair she overstepped the boundary. She evidently knew that I was melancholy; she intended that anxiety should drive me to extremes. The reverse happened. She certainly brought me to the point at which anxiety drove me to extremes; but then with gigantic strength I constrained my whole nature so as to repel her. There was only one thing to do and that was to repel her with all my powers.
During those two months of deceit I observed a careful caution in what I said directly to her from time to time : Give in, let me go; you cannot bear it. Thereupon she answered passionately that she would bear anything rather than let me go.
I also suggested giving the appearance that it was she who broke off the engagement, so that she might be spared all offence. That she would not have. She answered : if she could bear the other she could bear this too. And not unsocratically she said : In her presence no one would let anything be noticed and what people said in her absence remained a matter of indifference.
It was a time of terrible suffering: to have to be so cruel and at the same time to love as I did. She fought like a tigress. If I had not believed that God had lodged a veto she would have been victorious.
And so about two months later it broke. She grew desperate. For the first time in my life I scolded. It was the only thing to do.
When I left her I went immediately to the Theatre because I wanted to meet Emil Boesen. (That gave rise to what was then said in Copenhagen, that I had looked at my watch and said to the family that if they had anything more in their minds would they please hurry up as I had to go to the theatre.) The act was over. As I left the stalls Etatsraad Olsen came up to me and said “May I speak to you?” We went together to his house. “It will be her death, she is in absolute despair.” I said “I shall calm her down; but everything is settled.” He said, “I am a proud man and I find it difficult to say, but I beg you, do not break with her.” He was indeed a noble-hearted man; I was deeply moved. But I did not let myself be persuaded. I remained with the family to dinner. I spoke to her as I left. The following morning I received a letter from him saying she had not slept all night, and asking me to go and see her. I went and tried to persuade her. She asked me : “Are you never going to marry?” I answered, “Yes, perhaps in ten years time when I have sown my wild oats; then I shall need some young blood to rejuvenate me.” That was a necessary cruelty. Then she said, “Forgive me for the pain I have caused you.” I answered: “It is for me to ask forgiveness.” She said : “Promise to think of me.” I did so. “Kiss me,” she said. I did so but without passion. Merciful God !
And so we parted. I spent the whole night crying on my bed. But the next day I behaved as usual, wittier and in better spirits than ever. That was necessary. My brother told me he wanted to go to the family and show them that I was not a scoundrel. “If you do so I will put a bullet through your head,” which is the best proof of how deeply concerned I was.14 I went to Berlin. I suffered greatly. I thought of her every day. Until now I have kept my promise and have prayed for her at least once and often twice a day, in addition to the other times I might think about her.
When the bonds were broken my thoughts were these: either you throw yourself into the wildest kind of life—or else become absolutely religious, but it will be different from the parsons’ mixture.
I only remained in Berlin six months. Actually my intention was to remain away a year and a half. The fact that I came back so soon must have attracted her attention. And indeed it did, and she waited for me after Mynster’s sermon on the first Sunday after Easter. But I rejected her advances. My intention was to repel her. I did not want her to think that I had been thinking of her whilst I was away. Moreover I knew from Sibbern that she herself had said that she could not bear seeing me. Now that was not the case as I truly saw; but I was obliged to think that she could not bear speaking to me.
For the rest, it would seem she took the most decisive step in her life under my auspices. Shortly before her engagement to Schlegel she discovered me in a Church. I did not avoid her look. She nodded to me twice. I shook my head. That meant “You must give me up.” She nodded again and I nodded in as friendly a manner as possible. That meant “You have retained my love.”
Then, after she had become engaged to Schlegel (1843), she met me in the street and greeted me in as friendly and confiding a way as possible. I did not understand her, for I had not heard about the engagement. I only looked enquiringly at her and shook my head. She certainly thought I knew about the engagement and was asking for my approval.
When the banns of marriage were published (1847) I was present in the church.