Chapter 5
“One! Two! Three! Pun-ch!” – “One! Two! Three! Pun-ch!” They banged their hands and feet rhythmically, and healthy young voices shouted out the word with all their power; the voices and the noise rose like a storm that filled the hall like an unruly ocean; here now is the graduation feast.
From end to end, the floor was set with small tables and stools; and each table was set with “graduation candidates”, was black with them. Candidates or not, academic citizens and academic hopefuls.(1) But tonight they were all candidates, young and happy, young and frisky, thirsty for academic freedom and punch.
The graduation feast was held only once a year, and there were no young people in a city without there being a graduation feast. But they were all young as academics were. The graduation feast would drink a farewell toast to its greenest youth that would be bring them into the adult society with punch and song, so would the adults and the old ones be brought back to their youth again with punch and song, into that happy time when they had both drank a farewell toast to their youth and their entrance to the adult world.
The hall was full. Now and then a latecomer came in and threaded his way among the frock coats and feet to find a seat; but most were quiet, having found their places at the table or on the table. There they sat and waited for the feast, chatting, shouting, calling, laughing, chattering like cats, growling like dogs and screaming for punch; and all over the crowded hall was a streaming wave of fair heads and strong shoulders of healthy youth thirsting for the joy of life
Six hundred boots and 1200 legs tramped on the floor, 600 hands banged on a hundred tables, 300 throats hollered, laughing, shouting, barking, and now and then through all these noise a powerful and overpowering chorus of ”One! Two! Three! Pu-nch!” – ”One! Two! Three! Pu-nch!” – It created a roar that the whole building resounded. collected here, and each held his own with the jokes. And all the funny words and sayings and all the wrong questions and quick replies, and all the crazy latin were flung up in the air like the dance of elves! Freedom such as this Daniel had never known. Each day of striving and grueling routine were forgotten; people had set aside their thoughts and sorrows and left them at home; tomorrow did not exist; gladness, only gladness existed; this was to be a student; this was the ideal student life.
There were young men but even the most bad-tempered schoolmasters were carried away and laughed; and the old professors sat smiling and contented as if they had lost all their wisdom.
Daniel was intoxicated with all the happy sounds. He sat laughing all the time. Wherever one turned, there were jokes and laughter; all the jokers from all the schools had collected here, and each held his own with the jokes. And all the funny words and sayings and all the wrong questions and quick replies, and all the crazy latin were flung up in the air like the dance of elves! Freedom such as this Daniel had never known. Each day of striving and grueling routine were forgotten; people had set aside their thoughts and sorrows and left them at home; tomorrow did not exist; gladness, only gladness existed; this was to be a student; this was the ideal student life.
But the punch was late in coming, and the revellers were impatient. Around the hall they raised a shout after the gods’ drink; there was a tramping and a cacophony of sound, such that itwould have been nice to have thick ears. A young fellow with a blue ribbon on his chest shouted through a door that the punch needed its time too! – but nobody heard him; who cared about such prosaic nonsense!
At last a waiter appeared; and after him came several others with punch bowls and glasses. Hurrah! Hurrah! All the dogs barked; all the cocks and the cuckoos crowed; but those who needed to feel like human beings merely clapped their hands and shouted. Instantly the hall lightened up with the white hands and white cuffs, everybody wanted to be served first. “Pssst! Here!” “Bow wow wow! Here!” “Waiter! Waiter!” “Jens! Here!” “Kristian!” “Munnskjent!” “Ganymedes!” Pssst!” Pssst!” – and the hall looked like a giddy ants’ colony. (2) Unbelievably, the punch were brought to all the tables; and Hans Haugum got a whole mug for himself and his group.
When everybody have been served, there was less noise and the gladness was more inside each person, like a simmering pot of small talk and laughter, with a hollering in between. All agreed that the punch was bad, or too sweet, almost like hogwash, and hardly satisfying, but all in all the punch was much better than having no punch. And everbody drunk it “in quantity”.
Daniel thought the punch was good. But he agreed with the others, as they must surely know better. He assumed the air of a connoiseur and told Aslak Fjordan that it was not punch; it was merely sugar water.
And now came the Magistrar bibendi (Master of Ceremonies) (3)
He was a young and tall fellow with dark hair and tanned skin, with a great and brave mouth that was never afraid. He was greeted with a big cheer, smiled; and he smiled, bowed and took a big gulp of punch; said “hhmmm! and began:
“Gentlemen! (Alright! Hurrah!) Soon the day is coming. – (Hurrah!) – seriously – to say farewell (cock-a-doodle-doo) – to that time (more cheering and shouting) – to that time (bow wow wow!) that most of us – more than once... eh!” – The speaker coughed. He swallowed the cough with a gulp of punch and would continue again but he only set the whole assembly to coughing too. Eh! eh! oh! oh! the coughing from all the sides and corners were like church at New Year’s day, and afterwards somebody started sneezing – uih! uoeyh! – so that it bounced through the wall, as the chap wanted the Magister bibendi to hawk and sneeze too; he hawked and hawked more and more heartily: uhi! he; uhi! he; – but the magister pretended not to understand. As soon as the coughing and sneezing had almost stopped, he started again as if nothing had happened, screamed with his broad accents and tearing “r’s”, so that he could be heard even from under a waterfall:
Bid farewell to this time; as most of us – obviously a lot of times – in our boyish way (ah” bow wow”) have cursed (Bravo! Bravo!) as a time of slavery (Miaow) Faustis avibus (Hurrah!) shall we now in a few days – be adults (cock-a-doodle-doo!) and free men – become students; gentlemen; norwegian students! – A long cheering noise, hurrah-hop, and far down in a corner somebody let out a cuckoo sound.(4)
The speaker explained with a lot of words and parables the difference between then and now; and Daniel understood very well the basic difference, that a schoolboy was meant to work, whereas a student could do as he would. Students work when the spirit came over him, “when Minerva wished” (Bravo!); “and when Minerva does not wish it, gentlemen” (then Venus will! Cock-a-doodle-doo!), – then the student had the prerogative that he himself will decide what to do with his spare time (Cheers! Hurrah! Pereat Rector!”) And that is to say that from now on we shall be regarded as adults. The speaker drank. Everyone cheered.
When the speaker tried to continue, all the dogs began to bark; they understood that he will now begin with the serious part of his speech. Bow wow wow! “And so, gentlemen” – “And now, gentlemen” – “Silence” yelled the magister with a terrible voice, and that helped. He took upon himself the responsibility to be “a mature man”, and he was given that chance without being disturbed. When the society “released us to freedom,” he said, “society did this in the belief that we were mature enough to be as our own school and disciplinary masters; – and in that belief, society should not be betrayed.” The speaker at last gave a description of the genuine student, a description that received a total agreement, not the least being Daniel. These students were first and foremost not “materialistic”; he let the merchants bother with the cooking pot; the student himself lived for what is true, beautiful and great; such a student was not “melancholy”; he let each day be a different worry; and loved. as Dr. Martin Luther had said, “women, wine and song” over everything (“Hurrah!” “The devil saves!”) Finally, such a sudent becomes engaged. At this point the speech was almost drowned in the cheering and “toasts”; Daniel drank a silent toast to Inga Holm – that he alone wanted to remember tonight. The magister screamed hmself almost hoarse before he could get to the end of his speech.
And now all the newborn adult men set down to yell out their lungs in boundless joy; and they tramped agreement with the heels of their boots so that the hall shuddered. Thus were the feasting songs spread all over the assembly; soaring through the air, like a firebird; the music started playing at the podium and the song grew and floated through the hall like a happy storm, the victory song that they were no longer schoolboys but candidates, and that they would soon be, faustis avibus, become students.
The song first went with accompaniment and later without it, which was nicer. They separataed into small groups and sang at their own pace; afterwards each to his own stanza; freedom soared high, and their joy was complete. Youth had set itself free, and the old had forgotten their age; everyone in the hall lost themselves in song and laughter; and inferior as it was, the punch glided down easily as if it were nectar.
The song lasted a long while. It rose like the sound of an ocean wave of clapping and tramping, first from a corner, then from another corner, and then from the entire hall, and through the ocean wave broke the shout for “the author! the author!” until the hall was nothing but a huge insistent shout. It lasted long. They don’t get tired, these young breasts, and it didn’t matter a bit that the clapping burned the soft palms tonight. At last the happy author of the poem had to come up. He was a young fellow just like the other boys and he jumped up to the podium, bowing here and there and disappeared again like a spirit. There was a long happy laughter but soon quietened.
Many felt it was too cramped in the hall, or their ears had had enough of the deafening sound and the tobacoo smoke. They went out into the garden or into the corridors and sat down with their punch in small, cozy groups at small tables. Inside the hall there were more and more groups that separated from the main assembly. The punch warmed the young heads; more and more came to join a discussion with topics in seriousness. Hans Haugum and Aslak Fjordan sat and assessed the banquet speech; it was quite empty, thought Aslak; just one of the usual speeches; but Haugum was impressed with the young speaker who had said so much in such a wide context that hang together despite all the noise. Daniel agreed with Haugum. It was strange that such a young boy could stand up and speak at such a big and important assembly.
The punch was good; Daniel felt warm with it. In the beginning he thought a little about his father, but he brushed the thought away; it was a different punch in a graduation party from drinking cheap liquor among farmers. That kind of liquor wrecked a man; but the punch belonged to the ideal student life.
This he understood more clearly; the more he drank. Never had he known such good and clean fun; so high and lifted above the poverty and the unrefinements of the world. Aftewards he felt himself so ideal that he did not care about his money worries either.
The only sentiment that lived in his head was love, love for everybody in the world and especially for those he were together with tonight, but most of all for Inga. He wanted to write a proposal to her soon – but the thought stung his breast each time he thought about it – and he secretly drank toast after toast to her. He did not want to think about Berta Maria tonight; tonight he was a candidate; and a candidate should only think of the ideal.
Oh, so grateful was he to Our Lord who in his grace had helped him so far, he – the farmer boy from Sørbraut in the Nes parish – has tasted this intense joy to be among these in the ideal student life, even if it was only for tonight. It was true that the roots of wisdom were sour. But the fruits were rather sweet, sweeter than he had known.
At the podium stood another man, an old peaceful gentleman he seemed, with gray white hair over a half bald head, and a pair of strange horn-rimmed glasses. “Professor Darre!” whispered Hans Haugum. “Professor Darre! Professor Darre!” was whsipered from ear to ear in the hall and out into the corridors, and down to the garden; group after group came in with a punch glass in the hand and their hair falling over their eyes; there were shouts of bravo; when the schoolboys shouted Viva rector; Daniel knew that this was the professor in philosophy.
Hans Haugum and Ortvedt stood up and went nearer the podium. Daniel followed uneasily but gladly; now he would finally hear the words of wisdom from the source itself.
Professor Darre did not speak so loudly, but Daniel understood most of it. It was all about school not being so easy as one often thought; when one grew older, one would see it more in a different light; and then the memories from the schooldays would get both life and meaning. The professor extended his neck and lifted his eyes with its horn-rimmed glasses out into the air, as if he saw something up and out there that nobody else could see; and the hall shouted bravo, bravo. Tonight I shall not be old and wise, or old and crazy as it is sometimes said (Bravo!); tonight I shall be young and giddy, or young and crazy, as you will (Hurrah!); and who knows, maybe a youth’s madness is, in the end, the biggest wisdom. (Bravo).
The professor was now coming into the high point of his speech. He cleared his throat and went into a discourse about the academic profession that he defined as a higher class of men that stood above the ordinary. Those who went into it sacrificed themselves to being the preacher of ideas; he lived not for the endless but for the eternal; he lived the life of the spirit, ton bion theôn, in its human interpretation; in a word, gentlemen; in truth he lived for the idea (Bravo!) From all that is small and unworthy of the ordinarly life, should he liberate himself, for this concerns being a man in the highest meaning; live in it and for it, as in truth is the value of humanity. Out there in the daily life was man torn and sundered in pieces so that he never found peace to focus on the ideal; in this endless grind he could not hear the spirit’s harmonies through the scattered voices or realize his creativity through the day’s broken rays; but here, in the home of the spirit, the wild and noisy voices do not belong; here live sublimity and peace; here the spirit finds itself; here thought is not sundered and torn from the random; the small and the unworthy, the broken and the thoughtless, the one-sided and the endless in daily life; here one should, humanly speak, see God as he is; speak to the soul face to face (Bravo!). A few dogs broke out in a crow’s cry instead of “bow wow” but they were hushed down.
Out there in the practical world were the necessities for the day, the “essential food”, about which he needs to use a different word; here it was relief from all the confused variety and the unrelated pieces, to seek the infinite that in itself was important and true. In this submlime life, in this spiritual priesthood is where my young gentlemen should now arrive; but they do not come empty handed; if it were so, they had their youth.
The professor showed how remarkably well it was made for the ideal life, as long as the youth had their strong idealistic minds and their sense for the great and the profound. When the fresh youth arrived at this ideal spiritual life, on the one hand is he who found himself, but on the other hand it was the soul who found him or found itself in him.
Those who stood by the door could easily go out again, they who sat by the punch knew that it would be long, this speech.
Daniel listened with concentration. Unfortunately he did not understand everything, but he found it reasonable. And this did not matter much either, for he knew that the professor is always right.
That which was about the sublime life of the spirit he recognized from chaplain Hirsch; it was just that this was deeper and more knowledgeable. And that the odinary daily life was tough enough, he already knew.
That which came last was the best, and the professor got agreement even from the dogs.
It was totally insane, he said, when the young students thought that it concerned reading so much in their first year. That was not the meaning. The work will come eventually. The heavy and head-splitting striving with ideas about a thousand particular things that one ought to learn, so that they could formulate and articulate these themselves, would come later, for then one has more capacity to go into the particular and eventually into the profound. It is not for that, that these older generation in these times have missed time for the particular; those who did got in so deeply into the particular that they were stuck there. Of course, even science had remained in that pit. It is just that at this time, the particular disciplines have made itself so big and would forget its relationship to the profound; the professor bade his young friends to avoid coming into such a state. All particular learning were in themselves dead and without soul. It was not knowledge of this and about that which made a man into a scientist; it was all about a complete view of the totality; coming into the vastness, profound reasons, that which is of the great and proufound relationship (Bravo!). But the professor thought that one of the reasons that students so easily forgot themselves in a soulless particular science was that the students, in the first year, did not know how to use his time correctly, but flung himself into slavish work too soon, and thought that it concerned stuffing himself with as much science as possible. But that is what they should not have done. In the first year, they should take it easy (Bravo! Bravo!) and give more importance to living a fresh and ideal student life – a youthful life in the light of the eternal ideal – rather than to read learned books. They should use their time to orient themselves, look around, get themselves comfortable in their new home, find an overview and an outlook over the fields where they would later wander; enjoy their youth but enjoy it as students, like devoted apprentices to the priesthood of ideas; like cives academici. (5) And it is most wonderful to be a young student, that is the true spirt of this celebration of the graduation feast; and the speeches and feasting here tonight (great agreement from the assembly). And so the professor wanted to finally end his speech with a “Long live the studying youth – “Hurrah!” “Hurrah!” was shouted all around the hall; afterwards the shouting died out into a long and loud applause.
After his speech, the professor was borne from the podium on a seat formed by the arms of two students who carried him forth. Daniel has never seen anything like this and thought it was stupid. Even so he applauded as the others did, as he found fancied the last part of the speech.
He worked his way to his table to drink punch. He felt brave and happy. The world was so happy, and people were so kind. He longed to talk with them, discuss with them, speak his heart to them, and receive thier heartfelt meaning in return; but most of all he wanted to talk with his dear friend Haugum. But Haugum stood a long way across the hall and was chatting with a strange fellow – a big fool as he appeared to Daniel; and Aslak Fjordan had also gone to another table farther away; there he sat and made such a fuss that Daniel laughed to himself and thought in his heart that Aslak had gotten drunk. But Ortvedt was nowhere to be seen. So Daniel set himself to wait.
In came Markus Olivarius Markussen and Halvor Mosebø crisscrossing between table legs and boots; they were not so steady on their feet, and they went their way slowly, but Markus Olivarius Markussen laughed in high glee. “Ha-ha-ha ha! Today the sea is heavy with tall waves! And there are damned many wrecks!” He mimicked a popular saying. When Halvor reached Daniel, he greeted him with joy; grabbed his hands and congratulated his “bosom friend” endlessly; and Daniel who never really liked Halvor Mosebø, was glad anyway; drew him down to the stool beside him, and laughed because Halvor was drunk. It was so funny to be young and let oneself go! And Daniel felt an unreasonable longing to put his arms around Halvor’s neck and swear eternal friendship; but Halvor asked for punch instead. And there was enough punch. They filled their glass, said “Cheers!” and drank. “Now, what do you say about –” began Daniel, but Halvor Mosebø started to sing with his little crusty voice: “Have you seen such a one as my wife – up in the hill, in the hill” – “Heh, heh, heh,” laughed Daniel, “but what do you say about –?” “I am a farmer boy, I, you see!” said Halvor, “farmer boy am I, you see! I am from Telemark, me, you see!” “Yes, that’s good, said Daniel; he was also a son of a farmer. “Have you seen such a one as my wife – ! Shall we drink in dus?! said Halvor Mosebø. (6). “All right!” “Farmer boys we two!” – “All right!” – “Cheers, to you!” – “Cheers!” – “Ah! – Where the devil is that Olivar ... Markus Oliv .. Do you know Markus Olivarius?” – Daniel laughed; now he has completely forgotten that we drank in dus, he thought. No, he did not know Markus Olivarius so well. “But what do you say about the banquet speech?” – he at last managed to ask. “About the banquet speech! That was a good one, father! That was a good speech, father!” – Yes I think so too. But...” – “It was much too much nonsense also, god save us!” – “Yes, a lot of the usual phrases –” “Of course, of course... did you know Marcus Olivarius?” – “No, unfortunately, not so well ...” – “Damn! stalwart boy. Damn! stalwart boy. Yes, whether you believe me or not... we have been living in the same flat for half a year; and if there had fallen so much as a ... so much as half a word! – Yes, that one is a remarkable man.” – “Yes, that is obvious. But you – ?” “Then?” – “Heh- heh; yes, that is something you have never seen ...” – “Seen? I have always known, me. Come on now! Do you know what year that Philip IV ...” – Yes, that is so! Do you know I have long been your worst enemy, because you knew more history than I did, heh- heh-heh?” – “Cheers!” – “Yes, let us first have a drink ...” – “You are right, my son. – Cheers! – Yes, I know history, no doubt about it. – Have you seen my wife, up in the hill, in the hill? – Where the devil is that Marcus Oliv?” – “Oh, he is coming, he’s just up at the verandah. – That is true, what was it you got?” – “Me? I got – “ and Halvor banged on the table at each word –; “I got the devil, whistling, 3, 4!” – but the fourth they shall pay for, they shall! ... but I am still a good boy despite that, I ... but they shall they shall pay for that! The scoundrels! – they shall at least remember Halvor Mosebø! Here is the boy who would not let himself be screwed... that they shall see. Cheers!” – Daniel did not know what he should say to this. Halvor sat sulking, then he yelled: “Have you seen my wife?” Immediately after, he said, “You got 2.2, you” – “No, 3.3.” – “Aha. – Cheers! old bosom friend! Shall we drink in dus?” Daniel laughed: “I drink in dus,” he said. – “You have that right,” said Halvor; “tonight I am drunk, you see! But that’s nothing! – A farmer, you see! A farmer from Telemark, you see! No doubt about it! – Where the devil is that Marcus Olivarius?” – He got up and walked away; Daniel shouted after him but he did not listen.
The crowd had become more restless; many were on their feet; they came in and out the door. Among them who came in and out, Daniel saw not a few farmer boys who were students, strangely enough; one could quickly identify them.
Right beside him, thought Daniel, was a voice that he recognized; he turned and saw that it was the Magister bibendi. He stood and was talking with the same “fool” that Haugum was chatting with a while ago, and “the fool” asked if the Magister was afraid when he had to go up and make a speech tonight. “Yes; by god, I was afraid!” replied the Magister. Daniel sat mesmerized: the guy had the guts to admit that he had been afraid!
There was a new man at the podium. He spoke in behalf of “the old ones”. It was a man with a good voice and many words that came beautifully together; but Daniel understood only a little of what he said.
Another new one! But it was a such a guy that Daniel never would have thought he would see in an ideal student gathering like this. As he came puffing up to the podium, untidy and unsteady, clumsy in all his movements, with a long misshapen farmer’s face and eyes shaded by long shaggy eyebrows, Daniel did not know to what he would compare him. But for this strange man, the hall gave vent to such a loud hurrah and applause; and through the thundering noise, Daniel heard a sharp voice that shouted, “Long live Dølen!”
So, that was Dølen! (7)
Daniel felt a bit strange where he sat, his thoughts quite unclear, a little heavy over the eyes ... but he quickly livened up again; jumped up from his chair; felt himself light in the feet, but worked himself towards the podium as fast as he could; he wanted to see and listen to this Norwegian wild man about whom there was so much talk; and who wrote with much humor, raving mad in his own mad language in that insane magazine that he owned.
Rather quietly and in a friendly manner, with strangely blinking eyes, Dølen began to say that it was incredible that two- three hundred boys in their twenties could sit together a whole night and drink punch and have such a good time, and did not have so much as a speech about what young men were so crazy about, namely, women (Hurrah! Hurrah! Cheers!); Daniel felt a little hot sting in his chest and thought about Inga, but also of Berta Maria to and fro, and it was basically easy to see her image before him. But, said Dølen, and was louder in his voice, if these young fellows did not do their duty, then the old ones would take it instead, for god help us all, if the women were to be unhappy! And so he wanted to try to offer a small sacrifice for the strict ones, but also to the strangely kind goddess, or the “gydja” as they were called in Norwegian; and that he wanted to do for everyone present, like the catholic priests who drank for all their parishioners’ sins; and that he hoped that none of these boys here should come to such a state of being happy away from women.
They say that she was the weak one and the man was the strong one ; and it was also written that woman is a frail creature; but – shame on that! – she was stronger than anybody knew, the witch; and many a strong man had she beaten and broken with her little finger, just like a hulder in the folk tales who broke a horseshoe into two pieces with her naked soft hands as if it were nothing.
The whole assembly followed his words in agreement and laughter and with cheerful comments. For everything he said came out so funny. Daniel found fun only because this old and ugly half farmer, half satyr, was giving a speech about women.
And he continued in his own way, half mocking but just as seriously. He obviously meant what he was saying, though it was strange how they sounded; but then he was not always obvious in what he meant though it was plainly said, then he eventually came out with his own phrase, that reminded people about Dølen’s “irony”. In a moment, he came with his thoughts that were so incredibly soft and colorful that one totally forgot Dølen and only saw the poet.
Woman is peace, he said, – although married men claimed otherwise. She was peace, she was useful; she looked at the necessary, in her own way and beyond; and therefore it was for this reason that the man should come out in war or in a mishap and get himself handicapped. Therefore all spiritual men must, all who would strive and sacrifice himself to an idea or a cause, – they must be bachelors like him, so that nobody would care if they floated or sank, for there is nobody waiting for them.
But of course, he would not wish it so bad that all these nice young boys here should remain bachelors, as that would be a sorry thing both for them and the poor women, who so want to get married, poor dears, even if they go around making themselves difficult to get and act stiff-necked, as long as she has not reached the age above 30 years. As woman is love, she was created to get married and had been taught so, and she is of no use for anything else either, and rather just a bit of that also. Menfolk fall in love, they too; and as we bachelors get to know this too, all the time falling in love but not getting loved in return; but it was in some other way, somewhat like the predatory bird with skin and bone and sinew and flesh and hooked nose and claws. But the woman loves the one she was destined for; like the waves that roll in the cold blue sea in its flowing and endless pattern of beauty.
“Yes, get married, boys; but get married with wisdom, and don’t fly away to get a wife before you can feed her; for then it will go bad, as we often see. As woman will, despite all her love, want to have food, and that she has a right to expect.”
He spoke a lot about love and food that Daniel did not find quite poetic. But every time he was about to be annoyed about this, came a twist in the speech that made him laugh. And he laughed and applauded as all the others did.
The speech ended with a couple of verses–that a woman who was altogther good was beautiful. And all at once Dølen forgot his wisdom about spiritual men who should remain bachelors; the final thought being that the man of intellect ought to have the most beautiful girl. And so he wanted to drink a toast for the woman; and that toast he especially wanted to drink together with those in this party who had a sweetheart, if the love and the sweetheart were actually worth something. The graduation candidates cheered and drank; Dølen went down from the podium and staggered along to the tables where he sat with his comrades.
Daniel walked towards that way too. He wanted to hear more of this popular wizard and bard.
And Dølen was in good form. In high spirits and happy after the speech and the applause, he took a big drink of punch and began to talk of a new topic, for his companions and whoever cared to listen.
“Yes, that woman and that woman,” he exclaimed. But that is because the woman had less education than we do; because if she knew a little bit more, then she will understand that it is not true about that food. Because it was not true; he had lived his best moments on those days when he did not get dinner. This striving for food that was so popular now, that burdened our whole life; yes, wasn’t it this food power and this guanocracy that we have to fight with in politics? Everything was about food; the best man is who who could get hold of the most guano. The whole civil service is becoming more and more like a guano factory, where the issue is not spirit and intellect but about earning well, and make money out of their knowledge, like Per Degn who made coins from the latin that he couldn’t use in any other way. Study in itself has become a craft; it was about “getting ahead”. Oh, god, we must live; he was himself a poet that was on exhibit like livestock on a cattle fair; it was terrible to hear learned people talk about all this food. They did not give a damn about people and land; they regarded their profession like any other trade instead of being leaders of the people; they had cut the umbilical cord between themselves and the people; locked themselves inside their little offices and our bureaucracy. And so the whole life in this kingdom becomes soulless. It was this superficiality that one can really get hold of with the hands; this “material progress” with railroads and cattle shows; all this “tonnage”, that a skipper called our true national identity; in short, it was this English sytem with meat machines and devaluation of the ideal. It went too far that they no longer preferred excellent heads in running the country; those “geniuses from hell” only made things worse.
Then one of the others joined the conversation–Daniel did not usually like these guys; they looked so distinguished, belonging to the artistocracy of the intellect. “Now”, said the man; “they wilt more and more too, the old genuine bureaucrats. Now there is another marrow in this broad-shouldered, strong-chinned farmers boys...”
Dølen intervened again. “Yes,” he said, “the culture makes people beautiful and noble, but weak and wilted, and so it has come at last to Huns and Vandals to come in from Asia to freshen the thinning blood. But we don’t take our Vandals from Asia; we take them from the farming village; therefore our society will not go under this process, but will renew itself like Saturn who ate his own children. And we will always have savages to freshen the blood of our soceity, as long as we have these farmers and tenants who live on thin porridge and stale pork, and climbing all the hills and mountains that are there and even more; and suck in the air that is so strong it could lift a city guy right out of the street and up there, such that he will choke like mice inside a glass jar that is filled with pure oxygen.”
Dølen drank from his glass again and continued speaking.
“Yes, they are handsome boys, these cityfolk, with such soulful faces that you could fall in love with them or, in German, verliebe yourself in them. But in 10 years, all these fine girlish faces will be as dry as the bark of a tree; every relatively intelligent cat will look more spiritual than they; and tired and sour they will become, and gray with all that paperwork and all that striving for food, and they grow a beard that makes them look like an old hawk with anose like a big, crooked beak and the hair like falling feathers. With them, it is as like dogs and other animals who look most soulful when they are young; even as the cattle looks soulful when it is just a calf.”
A new speaker had come up; at first he was so soft-voiced that the majority ignored him: But the chap grew bigger as did his voice; Daniel turned and wanted to see who it was. “God help us; it was Jens Rud. One from the Factory! Could it go well... Daniel felt uneasy. But Jens prevailed, and Daniel felt proud; we were not so far away, we students at the Factory, either! Jens made a sppech for the student who was “The Son of the People”; and there was sense in what he said; he also managed to put in some fervent and beautiful words about the Norwegian bards we had the good fortune to greet tonight. There was strong applause. Jens especially wanted to make a toast for those students who come from the common people; they had as their first and foremost goal to become teachers and leaders of the common folk; because they knew the folk best; “A toast to the farmer students!”
The entire hall applauded; that was both beautiful and wonderful. Daniel became erious. He remembered his old dreams, and he imagined that beside Jens Rud was another man who appeared, a man who he had too often forgotten: chaplain Hirsch.
Yes! He wanted to be a standard bearer for the common people: he wanted to work with ideas and the spiritual, and striving for food was something that he would hate all his days. Oh, that he were rich!
Around the hall, the sounds hummed and dipped as before, once in a while there was a shout, a laughter, a snatch of song, then died in the tobacco smoke. Daniel felt tired. He did not want to stay longer in this mess. He wanted to be out in the garden and breathe fresh air, and dream his big dreams!
When he came out, he found Hans Haugum and several others, among them Ortvedt, Sven Dufva and someone he did not know who sat by a little table under a tree. He walked towards them. “Oh! is that you?” said Haugum, “Be so good! Here is a place and a glass of beer, if you will.” Daniel thanked him and took a seat, truly a glass of beer would be good now. Haugum sent Sven Dufva to get a glass; then he led, “student Braut” to the stranger, candidate Meier; took up the thread of the discussion again. “No,”he said to Meier, “It is not that which is the meaning. Endre Storr is a man with both goodwill and good ideas; but he thinks that here there is too little economic basis for a truly spiritual life in this country, and so he wants folk to go for that first of all.” “Yes, but that is what I call materialism,” said candidate Meieir, “this belief that the economic factor is the first in life.” He talked slowly and quietly, the words came one after the other heavily. Haugum was silent for a while, but worked himself up: “Yes, there is always something in that, but; it has not been said that if one held the material as basis that, therefore, one regarded it as the first, has it?” Candidate Meier let a little smile light up his serious face, so that his soft dark hair made it look like the face of an apostle; and he said, “Let us first seek the spirit and its life, then everything else shall follow for us!” Now Daniel understood that candidate Meier was a great man, and when he saw Sven Dufva came strolling with both glass and bottle, he was so brave that he thumped on the table and said, “That was truly said!”
Haugum stared wondering at his apprentice, who continued but still tried to defend Endre Storr. He did not quite succeed; Daniel listened with secret pleasure that Haugum was more and more overcome by Meier’s strong belief and weighty words. But strangely enough, Haugum did not give in.
The beer tasted refreshingly good; Daniel felt fresh and strong. Actually he wanted to tell about Jens Rud and his speech; but candidate Meier began to talk about “the spiritual man Hirsch”. “Yes, how is it going with that case?” asked Haugum. “Oh, it goes with Hirsch as do all the other spiritual men in this country; he is being persecuted by the soullessness from above and by the ignorance from below; and as he is not giving in, then it is just a question of time before he will be forced to resign.”
“Cha... chaplain Hirsch?” asked Daniel with wide-open eyes. “He is still a chaplain, yes,” answered Meier. “Yes, but ... what has he done?” “Oh,” threw in Haugum, “he has come into strife with the pietists about the right form for the words of baptism.”(8) Daniel was both surprised and frightened; but as he listened to the discussion, the punch and the anger boiled together inside him; he banged on the table so that it sang, “those Jøtun imps!” (9) Meier smiled like an apostle and said, “True enough, that is Loke’s descendants.” After a little while, he got up and went into the hall; he wanted to hear what the youth were talking about when they were drunk, he said.
Haugum told about the idea of the people’s high school that had grown, among other things, he mentioned that Meier wanted to be a teacher at the people’s high school. (10) “In other words a good man!” shouted Daniel with a bang on the table. “Wasn’t that what I saw? One can almost always see from a man’s appearance what he is good for...” “But that Endre Storr, Haugum, who is that?” asked Bragestad loudly and hastily, as if he was shy about joining the discussion. “That is my host,” said Haugum. “A rich devil of a grocer,” threw in Ortvedt, who was almost awake, “that Haugum always sticks to the big ones, that clever guy!” “I have come to live with him,” said Haugum, “because I knew his wife.” “Sss! now it will be embarrassing here!” whispered Ortvedt; “Hi-hi-hi-hi!” laughed Daniel; Sven Dufva was making a friendly sound in deep tones, “that means, I know his wife’s mother,” added Haugum. “The devil believe it!” said Ortvedt; Daniel who did not dare say “devil”, said, “shame belief”.
They sat and told jokes about nonsense; immediately Daniel took up the topic again about Endre Storr. Meier had been right about what he said of this man. Haugum can say what he wants. Daniel had read some long pieces that Storr had written in “The Good Citizen”; they were about fertilizer and guano and was the most soulless that he had read. It was this guanocracy – this “tonnage capacity” that the skipper said, this whole English system with meat machines and striving for food... Daniel was so full of words that Haugum did not recognize him. But, said Daniel, it was precisely this meat system that we should fight! We were the ordained priests of the spirit that the professor had talked about; we were the sons of the people and the standard bearers of the people’s great idea; and we must be on guard against such people like Endre Storr. Because striving for food is something we’ve had enough of in this country. People don’t care about what is great and beautiful and sublime in this world; they lie low and strive for what they can get into the stew pot and to fill in the purse; no sense or vision for the true life of man; that soulless striving for food lay like a spell over the country; the people must be awakened; they must have soul in life; spirit, ideas, poetry.... candidate Meieir was a good man; he wanted to be a teacher in the people’s high school; and that is what all of us ought to become; but a priest could also do much good; chaplain Hirsch who had been his teacher... he was... he was ... an excellent man; “if he had not been so, I would not be sitting here!” Daniel was almost crying because of the beer and his affectionate thoughts; Haugum had never thought that there was so much fire in the boy. And he thought how true it really was that under the cold farmer’s skin, beat a warm heart.
Daniel was as brave as an Achilles; he banged on the table with his beer mug and said, “Cheers! – A toast, gentlemen” for chaplain Hirsch and all who are like him, and who wants to join in saving the Norwegian people from that evil spell! Cheers!” “Yes, that we can drink to” said Haugum; and Daniel listened with great pleasure; that Sven Dufva himelf said, “Bravo”.“And one toast for you my friend!
and a toast for the Norwegian girls!”they sang inside the hall in a wild chorus; now his longing for love had become intense. “Hi-hi-hi! how happy they are!” laughed Daniel; and promptly, he joined the song:
“And one toast for you my friend!
and a toast for the Norwegian girls!”that first line was for Sven Dufva, whom he gave a friendly clap on the back; and the other was for ... yes, this time he included Berta Maria. And though he had been so strict with her tonight, he thought about her with such a great tenderness.
“Yes, –hik! for the Norwegian girls!” he said and drank. “The woman we must have with us... Freya....Freya with her go– hik! golden tears ... But!” he yelled, “those who are working for guano - hik! cracy and written in “The Good Citizen” ... that we shall not ha–hikk! have enough to do with. Hi-hi-hikkk! I am a bit gl–hikk, a bit glad tonight; but... hi–hikkk! think nothing about it, gentlemen! Cheers for –hikk! Cheers for –hikk! Cheers for the Norwegian girls!”
Haugum and Sven Dufva did not have an easy job that night getting Daniel Braut home.
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(1) academic citizen - In Norway, a pupil becomes a “citzen” of the university where he will study after he has passed the highschool examination that consists of about 5 written tests, and a random oral panel examination that could be on any of the academic subjects. The graduation feast was held after this examination, just before the summer vacation.
(2) “Munnskjent” - a traditional name for a waiter at the king’s court;
(3) From each school, representatives were chosen to be a member of the graduation feast committee that consisted of a Foreman, a Magister Bibendi, a Police Master and a H.E.F:I. (hold en fot innenfor = keep a foot inside). From these local committees was elected a board for the whole graduation feast, headed by the Board President.
(4) Faustis avibus: but everything goes well
(5) cives akademici: academic citizens
(6) in dus - to drink together with arms interlocked, such that the pair will be drinking very close together
(7) The description of Dølen fits Aasmund Olafsson Vinje who founded the periodical Dølen (inhabitant of a valley) that used nynorsk as its language.
(8) pietists - the followers of Hans Nielsen Hauge, who believed in a stronger connection between faith and daily life, most important of which is the right of lay people to preach.
(9) Jøtun - in norsk mythology, Jøtun is the world of the lesser gods who were quite treacherours. Loke is the most popularly known of these lesser gods and is often portrayed as a trickster.
(10) people’s high school - a private school as distinguished from the public schools run and financed by the state; the private school that Haugum mentioned was built on a specific pedagogic thery based on freedom and not on force, i.e., that youth is the time for learning and the weight of the “living word” rather than the “dead letters”. It was created by the Danish liberal theologian, N.S.F. Gruntvig (1783-1872)
(11) Freya - one of the goddesses in nordic mythology.