Chapter 6
Daniel had heard that the oral examination should be easy, but when it came, he found it otherwise.
He was was poorly prepared; had been to so many schools and had been different teachers, and they had worked each in their own way. Now he stood there with his head full of different and all sorts of random heaps; some were complete and some were half-done; there was no connection in any of them.
So there wasn’t anything else to do but “bury the nose in the book”. It was the day of reckoning. Those who have been helping him expect him to pass the examination. And if he did not make it, then all roads will be closed to him. That which he did not know or undertand, he could only memorize; later when he has become a student, he could take it up again more thoroughly.
Day and night, Daniel sat up in his dark room in the attic and read. Sweating and reading; reading so that he was almost fainting. The rest of the world disappeared for him. He forgot both sun and earth, both home and heaven; and once a day he went out for “dinner”; walked through the city as if he were in a big, empty dream.
And it was so terribly hot! The August sun when through the sky like a burning fire; and the air lay heavy and hot like an invisible cape. Outside or inside was just as bad.
Wet with sweat at the nape; clammy in the hands; with heavy drops on his pale face, he sat and struggled. Flies flew, sang, and buzzed in a nerve-racking way against his chin and eyes, settled tremblingly down on his sensitive skin, flew away then returned; buzzing nearer and nearer, hitting his nose, eyes and head with its endless buzzing, irritating and itchy; he perspired in weariness, endlessly chasing away the flies in vain; swatted them dead when they mated on his hair; but they continued to swarm; and so he read on. But when he was exhausted and drained, he lay down, twisting his body in a choking half-dream, and fought the endless battle with the flies.
It was not much cooler in the night than it was in daytime. When the August sun had begun frying the slate roof over his head from morning till night, it was like glowing iron; and the attic room turned as hot as a chokingly hot steam bath long before morning. And the buzzing dance of the flies was more maddening than at night.
But outside in the free air, he could not read. There were so many things to tempt the eyes and entice the thoughts; he sat and stared at trees and flowers and dreamed about Berta Maria or Inga Holm and all kinds of rubbish; and forgot the whole examination. The air was filled with irritating flashes, with sounds that reverberated, and all kinds of life; thoughts of the examination died in it like small trolls in the sun; he had to stay indoors.
So there he sat, locked in; struggling and reading; smoking, and drinking water and losing all appetite for food. Day after day he felt worse; day by day he had to pull himself up. And the more he read, the more he thought he had to read.
One day he met Sven Dufva on the street and whined to his friend. Sven Dufva said that the best remedy was to drink chinese wine. “That is what I use,” said Sven Dufva, “and it both lights me up and reinforces.” So Daniel bought china wine. And when he became too weary and tired, he drank it and thought that he felt better.
It was a long struggle. When he had finished one subject and had read until he was tired of it, then came the next subject, which was just as difficult; and one had to put on the harness again. It was wearing him out; during the night Daniel lay in bed and could not sleep because both the buzzing flies and all the grammar rules were dancing on his head, knocking and banging on his head like “carpenters”, just like he was suffering a hang-over; then it could happen that they boy jumped in trembling horror and thought that he might be going mad.
And he who had been so happy during the graduation celebration had thought that the worst was over then. He had not known what was to follow. And he had not known that the graduation day was only for the real graduates; but not for such as they who had to break themselves to get into the academic life by way of the Factory.
The true graduates who were reliable people and had been sleeping through a reliable latin school, who got through the oral examination quite easily; one would think that such boys have learned what they should; moreover, it was really the written examiation that really mattered in this country. But the University had a natural suspicion of Factory graduates. They were people with ordinary names, people who did not look academic; and in addition came storming into the sacred halls like thieves and robbers through the wrong gate; such fellows must be examined by their teeth. They were camels, who should go in through the eye of the needle; and many “failed”, did not manage to get through, either because they were camels or because the eye of the needle was too small. More than once it happened that right after the examination, there was a message from the University to “the Old Man” that he had lost his “license”; too many of his boys from the school had “failed”. But then it could also happen that the Old Man in his own spectacular way would show the messenger that he has not lost his “demissjonsrett”, no matter how it is with the “dimissjonsretten”.(1)
The Factory graduates, Daniel and the others, turned more green around the gills at each passing day. And one after the other got sick and fell behind; one in that hill, another one in the other, like tired soldiers in a field march. But the Factory graduates could not afford to be sick either, there was nobody who believed in such illness. The professors shrugged their shoulders, the graduates laughed; “he is sick with mathematics,” they said, “he has pain in Greek.” And in The Good Citizen there was a vicious article about how strange it was that it was exactly the Factory graduates who were sick during examination time.
Hans Haugum and Markus Olivarius held on very well; but Halvor Mosebø and several others were sick. Daniel seriously thought about reporting himself to be sick, but he met Sven Dufva one day. He was very pale and the big, fearful gazelle eyes stood out in his head like white and stiff metal bolts. “My Lord God, are you not well?” asked Daniel in horror. Sven Dufva raised his head. “You must go to the doctor and get a sick leave!” said Daniel. Then Sven Dufva stared at Danie, and a red shadow came over his face. “No!” he said in his bassoon voice; “that I will never do!” And then Daniel wanted to know why Sven said that: “You should not do that yourself, either. They do not believe us!” The red shadow became darker and remained that way.
Daniel understood the boy and felt ashamed; Sven Dufva was right. Haugum had said the same thing; moreover, he could tell that they who called in sick will get a stricter examination; so it was best to hold on as best one could. Daniel sighed heavily and said that he too will will try to prevail.
And he did prevail. But in the end, he could not read. When he set himself to read, the dizziness came over him. He did not dare to drink china wine anymore. Haugum had said that it was dangerous.
So it was simply a matter of taking what comes. He had earlier hoped that he could win “laud”; he had done well in several subjects; and he would have 1.1 in history and geography. But now that hope is gone. If he could not read French and German, then those subjects will cause the loss of “laud” in any event.
Strangely enough it went well with the German and the French exams. And now he felt safe with getting honors. He went about comforting himself with the thought of how happy they should be, those who had been helping him through school; and how proulsy he could write about it to Inga Holm: ”the student with the best grade”. But it went bad with history and geography – the only subjects he mastered. For his examination panel, he got as examinar an old contrary man who asked about all sorts of things that were not in the book; and questioned him in such a strange and unreasonable way; and for arbitrator, he got his old history teacher from the latin school, Robert Djevelen. The latter especially got Daniel so confused. He was so afraid of Robert Djevelen, and when the examinar made himself so contrary, Daniel completely lost the track. His answers went hither and thither and he got stuck; and the end result was that he got 3.3 instead of 1.1; and all hopes for “laud”disappeared.
He could not understand any of it! It was unfair in all ways! To be so close to honors and not to get it; and to fail in the subjects that he knew best! Could the Lord God permit such a thing as this! – For a long time, he stood outside the door; half waiting for the professors to come out and say that it had all been a mistake; such a thing could not happen; he had not done well today but that arbitrator, the arbitrator knew very well how good he is in history; and Our Lord would have helped; there was no fairness in this world! Should a man suffer a bleak future just because an old, sour bag of a professor was in a bad mood? It could not be so; it could not be so!
But Daniel realized that it could. The examiner and the arbitrator came out – and went their way. They did not look at him even once. They looked like they had the clearest conscience. And Robert Djevelen went along, fawning on the professor, fawning and smiling and making himself agreeable, clerverly agreeable...
Then a tearing rage boiled up in Daniel; and he said “the devil” for the first time in his life.
On the way home, he felt angry and sick. He should have “laud”! He had it almost in his hand! But he did not get it. Had he been so close to it! And had not history and geography been his best subjects! That such could happen! Now he should go about his whole life with only a middling grade in the examination, and just because... actually it was because he had Robert Djevelen as arbitrator.
He flung his books mindlessly and kicked them. Then he sat down wearily on a chair, sank in dark thoughts.
He thumped his feet on the floor right where he was sitting. He could not tear himself away from this dreadful memory. So nearly excellent. And he did not get it. Hmm. He sat there. He was finished. Finished with the examination. He was a student. This day was what he had longed for so sorely and for so long. That day had arrived. But he could not think about it with happiness. Angry, miserable and seething he was.
He went out; one has to find people: Find somebody to talk with. But he found nobody. They surely had enough of their own concerns.
A heavy misery took hold of him. He was so alone. He had comrades, but no friend. Not even Berta Maria cared about him; if she had, she would not have been away on Sunday evenings. He was the son of a poor man and had the fortune of a poor man. And after a while, maybe he would starve to death. Or he has to get a job.
He had written to Jens in Larsbakken for an additional loan of 100 dalar “to be able to take the second examination in a shorter time”, and he had clearly exaplained that this would be to the advantage of Jens himself. But would this worker of the soil understand this?
And he had thought of proposing to Inga Holm when he had become a student! Oh, yes. A student with “laud”. And without money. That should make him something of a suitor! Then the hens at the bellman’s farm would cackle and make fun of him. And then the old bellman Holm would invite him to dinner.
The old ones had said that poverty was a sin. That was a big lie. Poverty was a misfortune. The worst and saddest misfortune on earth.
“Good day, Braut!” said Aslak Fjordan, “oh, oh! you walk so fast!” Daniel stopped short. “Good day, good day!” and they began to chat. Aslak was going to student Hærland and get to “grab the greatest syntax”, he said; “he was such a solid guy in Latin, that Hærland, and tomorrow Aslak would take the Latin examination, but could on-oh-oh! – could manage it but not gone so well. Huff, this is bad busness. In Greek, he had been sick, like the others who couldn’t manage; and in Arithmetic he got a 6; so he must “take it up again”, it went to hell with the whole business.
He had bad luck from beginning to end, and had gotten into all sorts of madness with the professors. “Yes, more than I have?” asked Daniel. “Hoh-oh-oh! but in one subject I was lucky,” said Aslak, “and that was in history!” “Exactly, I was there ..” Hoh-oh-oh! one should never have heard such a thing!” Aslak had been looking up quite blindly three places in the country’s history, and learned these three pieces, and more history he could not manage; then he got those three pieces, just these pieces; and he could have gotten 1 in history; if it was not for that nitwit of a professor who came dragging up that French revolution. So he got 2; but the other two pieces saved the examination for him.
Aslak laughed and talked in such a way that he got into a good mood; Daniel could no longer feel so sulky either. He told about his own history test, and talking about his own misfortune made him feel lighter. It was altogether good to meet people after having buried himself in his books. The heaviness inside him that felt like it was squeezing both his body and chest lightened and began to disappear like the fog in the forest
When Aslak first got on the right track, he had a lot of stories to tell about the examinations, and Daniel heard about it and became brave; there were those who came out less fortunately than he did. After that he continued alone along the road and was no longer in too bad a mood. Besides, it was a good thing to have finished. And even if it hadn’t gone too well, it could have been worse and with this he comforted himself.
Outdoors it was boundless and beautiful. The August air lay fine and blue over fields and forest, glimmering clean; it was so clear that one could see far into the treetops up to the sky. The Aker district was light and nice with its acres and bare fields between groves and low hills; and the fjords reflected the rays of the sun around King Oscar’s hall, white in the strong sunlight. But the mountain range in the west was outlined in a soft, fine wave through the sunlit air like a beautiful, powerful, undulating curve.
Daniel saw that this was lovely; he had been away from it so long. And the air here was like wine that made one brave; should he now dare to send his marrige proposal? Or should he wait until he had taken the second examination?
A true student ought to be engaged. And it was painful to be so alone in the world. Nobody was happy without having a steadfast sweetheart with loving thoughts that could follow him in his struggle. Berta Maria, poor dear, she was kind and good, but she was just a servant girl. It was the ideal that one must have now. He had decied that in case Jens of Larsebakken sent the money, he would propose; if not, then it would have to be after the second examination.
He was about to be dragged down with his money worries, but then he remembered that a real student should not think about money. It was poetic to be poor; a true student should live for ideas and let merchants and farmers provide for money and food.
All in all, he has to remember that he was a student! – and not to go about and pretend that he was a schoolboy and still a farmer! He should dream about his future prospects; about the job that he would eventually get; that which made the student life ideal is the great dream.
Then there was Chaplain Hirsch; he could at last thank him for everything; and he must not regret what he has done, that noble man. And Haugum, and Rud, and the other bright boys, they would see that Daniel Braut was not mastr... materialistic.
If right was right, he could be a teacher in the people’s highschool like Meier and Massmann. But then, he was not fit for that. He should be a priest of the same kind as Hirsch, as well as he could.
But suddenly he remembred that he had forgotten to get himself a student cap with the tassel. He turned and walked to the city as fast as he could. It was best to be safe. He still did not feel like a student. And he did not look like a student either. But when he got the students cap, and also the “borgarbrevet, he would then feel right.(2)
Arne Garborg wearing his student cap
Enrollment day at the university came.
Daniel Braut put on his black robe and solemnly set his students cap on his head. Now he was a student. With a throbbing heart, he walked to the mirror. Now he had reached his great goal; now he wanted to gaze at himself. He expected to see a dramatic change in his appearance.
The student cap did not feel right; he drew it lower towards one ear. But it dit not help. He dragged it down towards the other ear. But it did not help either. So he set it right on top of the head; almost the same. He tried all ways--set it farther back; or more forward; a little more tilted; less tilted; it didn’t work. It seemed that the student cap did not want to sit on his head.
Daniel felt cold where he stood. He tried once again; lay the cap back; laid it forward; set it on the middle of his shoulder: no. It did not have the right swing. And the coat; the coat sat like all the other coats he has had. He did not look like a student. He was not a student! He was a farmer in disguise.
Pale and crestfallen he stood and stared at himself in the mirror. He himself thought he looked so strange. The broad friendly face had become long and skinny. The mouth looked stiff, and the eyes that were once so bright have shrunk and become red-rimmed and lifeless. And the shoulders were uncouth that looked like something heavy was tugging them down; he had to straighten up if he wanted to look tall; he looked so different in his dreams. Then, it would fix itself. But with a cold heart, he walked to the University with his academic “borgrabrevet”, that, he now understood, could not work wonders either.
When he arrived, he saw all the other young city students who came by breezily and light as birds in the sun and wore their student cap so handsomely and looked so debonaire that the cap looked like it was fashioned for them; thus he felt strange in this company. He had only one comfort and that was weak— the other peasant boys did not look any better than he did in his student cap.
The assembly hall was filled with black clad, white shirted fine gentlemen. It looked cool in the gala event. They should be brave enough to enter. Daniel felt he was like an uninvited guest; he felt that the fine gentlemen looked with distaste at the peasant boys who wanted to get into their company. But when he had sat down, the gala song began; it sounded so nice in the huge hall. So brave, so steadfast, so safe. Daniel felt fortified. He told himself: You have the right to be here; you are a student!
With the student cap, it did not matter; it was good to have escaped from the soulless and the coarseness outside and to be inside this clean, serene halls among the fraternity of ideas. “Holy, holy, holy is the student’s calling!” resounded from the choir, great harmonies, and Daniel sang along with all his heart. He lifted his delighted eyes towards the statues that stood beneath the ceiling; there he saw the gods, the old classic gods, standing and thinking and pondering where they were cast in plaster.
It was Professor Darre who made the speech. He said that science is a goal in itsef. At the end came a couple of ideas from his speech during the graduation celebration; then the professor ended with a eulogy of the ideal student life.
Daniel listened to the words of wisdom with deep and heartfelt respect. He thought it was so true and so good. But when the professor came to the ideal student life, he thought to himself: I hope that Jens of Larsebakken will send the money.
Then came the time when these newly-born spiritual noblemen should come forward and receive their “borgarbrevet” and recite their oath of academic allegiance. Mostly they were city students; people with the great and Germanic names, and this is the specially fine touch that Daniel had been wondering about all his days. But now and then a “homo novus” came tramping in, an Aslaksen or a Bragestad; and Daniel saw with growing unease how easy is is to distinguish them from the others. (3) They did not have the swing. They accepted the certificate with a clumsy hand and imagined themselves to be bowing, but it really was only a stiff nod; others bowed as if they were folding the body down from the waist. Daniel felt smaller and smaller where he sat. And now it was his turn to go to the front. “Herr Daniel Olsen Braut”. He rose, walked forward as well as he could; he could not quite concentrate; the hall seemed to lie in a whirring fog, and yet it seemed so unnaturally quiet. There were white collars and indistinct faces in the fog like huge empty eyes; he bumped the edge of a bench such that it creaked; so he began to tiptoe, received his certificate; imagined himself to have bowed, but it was really only a nod; and he returned to his place; sweating, but happy because he had gotten it over with; it was a while before he dared to look up again.
He began to think as he sat there. He remembered Dølen and his Huns and Vandals; there was probably more to that than Dølen knew. When one of those with a Germanic name came forward, it was like they were a different kind of people. It was not that they were handsome; it was not that they had performed well in school; they could be as ugly as original sin and stiff as a tree trunk; but still! Nonetheless, one could see that they were “gentlemen”. All of them were calm and confident and self-assured; all of them had what Horatio called “frons urbana”; and when all has been said, this is what is really the true mark of the educated. Were they born with it? Was it really something that one must be born with? Was it not true that everything in nature was alike; and that the noble and high-born were the same in the cottage as in the castle? Has Our Lord made it so, that they who were born in wealth got everything that is good, but they who were born in poverty had to carry their mark all their days?
Daniel did not want to believe that. Our Lord was just; everybody came equally from His hand. The difference that existed was created by people who grew up in different circumstances; and that would even out through time.
And then the peasant boys had the power, as Dølen had said. There were those who came up serious and heavy; some small and stocky; others tall and big; they all resembled the “sons of the mountain.”
“Holy, holy!” resounced once more. Daniel had triumphed over his bad thoughts; he was now an academic citizen; he had the certificate to show for it. And now he wanted to be happy, as long as he had some money.
He followed the others to the Café National; they wanted to “celebrate the day”. A whole flock had assembled in the coffee lounge; there it was bright with speeches and beer; that ideal student life starts now, thought Daniel. And that was the banquet speech – the ideal gushing as the waterfall or like a flood. The old made a speech for the young and the young for the old; a city student made a speech for the peasant students and a peasant sudent made a speech for the city students; that means those city students who had a liberal and broadminded view about mingling with the peasants; in response, the city student made a speech for the farmer folk; the farmer was the future and the farmer was the past; the farmer was the bearer of the fatherland’s legacy; the farmer owned the land the farmer will carry it forward. “Cheers! Life! Hurrah, hurrah! Daniel drank beer and felt that everything was well. He had not thought that the farmer was such a great guy; but if the city student said so and when people like Hans Haugum and Jens Rud said the same thing; then it must be true; and, so it must be grand to be a farmer. He turned towards the mirror and saw that his student cap did not sit on his head so badly after all.
He went home feeling good and satisfied. Tomorrow he would write his marriage proposal. Whether Jens Larsbakken sent enough money or he did not send anything; there would be a way somehow; the world was good and happy, and folk were so kind.
When he came up to his attic room, it was scrubbed and tidy as if for a holiday. Poor Berta Maria, she must have done this to honor the day. Berta Maria was kind. He would gladly make her acquaintance; poor dear, she had been so pale in the past days. Could she have been secretly in love with somebody even when she knew it was hopeless?
Tired and heavy, he lay down on his bed. He sank into beer-laden dreams; before he knew it, he was asleep; and that night he was sleeping like a horse. When he woke up, he had a pain in the head. But that was part of the ideal student life; he just had to accept it.
Heavy, unfamiliar footsteps were approaching; a strange woman came in with the coffee. It was a big. red beast of a girl, with a stooped back and rat’s teeth; she was round at the back and had a warped mouth. Daniel stared, what did this mean! “If you please!” said the girl. “Oh, should you want something bought from the city today, I am the new servant girl.” “Yes,” said Daniel, his voice was rusty after all that beer the night before; “What happened with the other one?” “What? he-he, she just didn’t show up, so they said. She went away.” Daniel felt miserable. “Absent?” he said. “Yes. That’s something I do not care to talk about, you know, but that’s the way it is when a girl does not watch out for herself! She should have kept herself away from the good-for-nothing fellows, and behaved herself properly like other girls. But that is not for me to talk about, you understand.”
Student Braut did not get to write his marriage proposal that day. Neither did he write it the day after. He did not get to write his marriage proposal at all. On the other hand, he terminated the lease of his room and moved in to a cubbyhole at Fredensborg Road. He could no longer afford to live in his old attic room, and most of all he could not stand looking at the new servant girl.
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(1) demissio - to send away; dimissio - the right to hold the final examination. The “Old Man” was playing with words here. He meant that he had the right to throw out the messenger, regardless of his right to hold a final examination.
(2) borgarbrevet - literally “letter of citizenship”; this is the certificate of “academic citizenship” in a university, much like a certificate of citizenship in a city during the medieval times when craftsmen needed a “citizenship” by belonging to a guild in order to have the right to live in a city and practice their craft there.
(3) homo novus: unknown, common or ordinary man