Chapter 8
Daniel stood freezing at the ticket counter of the Dampen and changed his last dalar. He was blue in the lips and heavy in the head. His only thought was to stay alive as long he could.
As he entered the dining room, Jens Rud arrived. He was nearsighted and did not recognize Daniel immediately; he was shy and wanted to slip away. But Rud greeted him and asked how it was with him. Oh, thanks.
They came in and sat at a table; Rud ordered beer for himself and Daniel. Rud said that chaplain Hirsch sent his regards; the trouble up there had ended, as long as the peace could last; the bishop and the Department of Church and Education had made an agreement. But the pietists were not to be trusted. They could talk sweetly about peace and brotherly love; but they were like blackfoot-indians; they lay in ambush along the roads and paths and took the scalp of their dear white brother as soon as they got the chance. “Yes, that is true,” said Daniel
“Yes, such that we do nothing else but fight,” continued Rud. “The words of baptism and old ways of speaking! Out in the big world, people have other things to think about. Have you read the latest speech of Kastelar?” No. Daniel had not read it. “Yes, then you must read it. He is a great man; that Kastelar.” “Is that so? “A great man!”
Later Rud talked about the political situation in France. “It is right that all the youth here should be republicans from now on,” he concluded. Daniel could not think of anything to say against this; and so he answered that it was reasonable. “Are you a republican?” asked Rud thoughtlessly. “Oh, in principle, I should say; actually I haven’t thought much about it.” “No,” said Rud with his clear, nice smile; “one could be a free state man these days without having to think about it. It’s in the air, they say.” “Yes, isn’t that so?” replied Daniel.
He sat thinking about Haugum and his arguments against republicanism, but he couldn’t quite get it. And Rud seemed clearer in his thoughts.
After a while, Rud said, “Do you go to the theater often?” “Oh, sometimes.” “Yes, what do you think about it?” asked Rud. Daniel was confused; he had nothing to say about it. But he said to himself that Rud understood it better than he did... “oh, there can be a lot to say about it,” replied Daniel. “Much to say?” shouted Rud; “that is scandalous!” And he explained passionately that the way the theater is being handled makes it little more than a caricature of the national theater. He talked with authority and competently about it; that he ought to be right; and since Daniel was now brave and full in the stomach, he said in bewilderment, “that people would tolerate such!”
Rud smiled. “We are deaf, we Norwegians,” he said. “I gues so,” replied Daniel. Rud continued, softly and discreetly, “otherwise nobody could say how long it would be tolerated either.” “So?” “You must not talk about this; but it could very welll happen that one nice day, there might be trouble.” “Trouble?” “A demonstration, you understand... a blowing of the whistle or something like that... Would you join in such a case?” Daniel felt compelled with the confidence Jens showed him and answered: “Yes, of course I will join.” Jens looked at him. “Is that a word of honor?” “Okay, then.” “Where do you live?” “Here and there”. “Good, so you shall get a message when the time comes. But keep your tongue tied until then.” “You can count on me,” said Daniel.
When they were outside, Jens said, “Coffee?” and Daniel agreed. At once came the thought that he can probably find a nice way to get money for house rent. He stopped abruptly and said, “Oh, no, I cannot quite afford it. I have spent my last dalar today, so it is a question of saving.” Daniel blushed; he thought Rud must understand this. But in a puzzled tone, Jens replied, “The coffee is on me, you know!” “Oh, yes, thanks, “murmured Daniel; he had thought that Rud had a sharper instinct for such things.
Café National was the regular gathering place for Fram’s flock, and had a great following from the “common” youth. Daniel looked for Fram; but there was nobody here that he recognized. Through the half-open door to the inner room, he saw a couple of guys who might belong to the flock; they were tall and scruffy and reminded him of something he had read in the newspapers. “Robbers from the Apennines”; Rud went in. And there they found Fram; he sat at the end of the table, writing; Jens and Daniel sat down.
Daniel did not see much of Fram other than the unreasonably long back hair that fell over his eyes that he brushed back from his forehead every now and then. He was dressed in a black, long overcoat that was shiny at the elbows from the long hours of leaning on them, and the cuffs were frayed for the same reason; he was lean and spare. On the table before him was a used coffee cup and a bowl of mulberries; he did not have writing paper; he was writing on the margins of an old newspaper; he had filled the back side of a subscription form with his writing and laid it aside. The two robbers sat, reading a newspaper; it was silent in the room; one heard only the scratching of the pen on the rough newsprint; Fram did not look up when he picked a berry from the bowl. Then Daniel stared at this tall, bright, strong face and at the light blue childlike eyes and wondered how this could be the bad radical they talked so much about, and whom the police shadowed wherever he went, so that he cannot openly incite revolution on the streets.(1)
Afterwards came more of the flock who strolled in; and it became livelier. One wanted coffee, another beer; one ordered bread because he has not had dinner, he said. Two came in with books under the arm; they were used to sitting here to read because they did not have heating at home. A young, formerly wealthy student asked for beer from the others, “because he no longer had credit here”; “do you have credit anywhere else?” they asked. “The hell with it,” swore the young man. They the guys laughed; and Strang – he with the bread – said that now Baardsen could very well hang himself as he should have done a long time ago. The young Baadrsen shrugged, “there is no one who will lend me a rope,” he said. “You shall get a string from me,” answered Strang, “but when you have used it, I want it back, because I have use for it for my own neck.” “Give me a little food, then we can talk about that,” said Baardsen. “The hell, I’m not even half full yet! Now, you scoundrel, you idiot, please, stuff it down your granite throat and down your bottomless stomach!” “Thank you,” said Baardsen.
Daniel came to like this flock; they were just like him, but they could take it lightly. “Oh, you,” said Fram to one of the robbers, “come here with a page of your newspaper!” “I have not yet read it,” growled the robber. “Give it to me!” hissed Fram; he must have something to write on! The other guy ripped the page in two and gave Fram the side he had read. Meanwhile a two young men came in that Daniel took to be theology students who did not look like they belonged to this company; they sat down at a small table by the window and the waitress brought them coffee. “Johanna!” said Fram, “how many cups have I gotten?” “Today, you mean?” “Yes!” “Six”. “Let me have one more, Johanna.” “Just one?” she asked and laughed at the others with her white teeth showing. “One at a time,” nodded Fram and continued writing.
But when the coffe came, he lay down his pen. He sat up and looked around; Daniel noticed that he did not have a collar; then he calmly drank the coffee. And when his thirst was slaked, he said to Baardsen, “You Baardsen! I will tell you this, if you hang yourself now, you are doing a good deed because you are a Laban, and a Laban you are; but make sure you do it right. Our Lord has use for such people; he has use for theologians, one must know.” They quickly understoood what he meant; the two young theology students who sat there so clean and proper, stirred up his strong viking’s nature. Certainly one of them looked funny to Fram; as he looked like a theatrical theologian with black church robes and angel’s tie; the small, lean and scowling face was praying in all its wrinkles and corners of the mouth. Our Lord save us from the world, and he held himself so stiffly as if he had swallowed an axe shaft.
Such where these fellows. Fram was in a mood to provoke. He was lashing at theologians and theology; it was not easy for young theology students to listen; in the beginning, it went slowly and half in jest; he could smile like a child over how own sharp words, but the eyes flashed sometimes; and he became harsher and harsher. Soon the one with the axe shaft could no longer hold himself as tall and pallid as before. He reddened more and more. He became more and more weighed down with anger and the yearning to have it out with Fram, again and again it looked like he would; again and again he swallowed his anger; finally it broke out; he could not take any more. Fram drove it in, that if the priests should be teachers of the people; they should be like the old rationalist priests who taught the farmers to cultivate the earth; there was another culture, he believed, than these hair-splitters these days who were afraid of the light like rats, and only crept to the alter and lay mumbling over the mystery; then came axe shaft. “Excuse m.” can he be so free as to ask who it was that had completed this new education law? And is it right to call them afraid of the light, as he said?” Daniel felt respect for axe shaft. But Fram focused his assualt on the little theologian and said that the law on schools was nothing but humbug! And he explained in his characteristic way, forceful one moment and so suddenly harsh the next, said that it was the priests who had the honor; that new school law was made because people from the lower classes demanded it, from the school maters and bellmen; the law is a fruit of the schoolteachers’ meetings all over the country and because of the life that was ignited by Ole Vig; the priests had turned their eyes away from this life; and at the teachers’ meetings, they showed up sometimes to protest, and inhibited free speech with all their fine speeches and supported instead the mediocre as much as they can; the mediocre from the lower classes, the women’s demand that Pontoppidan should be the big book in the schools. That is what the priests had done! But they who had been advocating the school law, they were the people like the bellmen from the disreputable “bellman’s office”, and they who had achieved more enlightenment in the country, they are what those theologians and other fine folk call the half-educated robbers; this group of struggling workers who toiled and labored from morning till evening to get food in their mouths and hardly had a dalar a week, and who must sweat much more than these priests, the so-called great distributors of enlightenment that for a shorter time did his enlightenment work by performing the wedding ceremony for which people paid 5 dalar, often for a speech that was not worth two shillings. If somebody wanted to claim that the schoolmasters could do better work than they did, then he would just say that the fault is nobody else’s but the theologians, for they were the teachers at the seminaries where they pumped the young boys full of dogmatic and irrational cathechism, and in that way practiced with stupid blackboard exercises with such and such number of pieces the rules of rhetoric or whatever you call it; these theology guys from the seminary. In addition, the schoolmasters have done much good work; ; so there must be two in this cult, when they could hold their own well against this theological mental torture . “That is natural enough,” said axe shaft, with a red pate and trembling mouth, “that everything about christianity is mental torture for Fram; but..” Fram jumped up, confronted his adversay as if he would teach him logic with his fists. “Christianity! God help us all with such talk! That rule of rhetoric of christendom! And Pontoppidan! He wanted to ask each intelligent man: what do you think of Erik Pontoppidan? They wrote in their textbooks, these theology guys, that the catholic priests prohibited people to read the Bible and worked against enlightenment for the people; but what did they do themselves? Yes; they wanted to give the schoolmasters permission to remove the basic latin as a school subject! But the basic school latin, that was Pontoppidan. Either they forced the young ones up in the hills to learn the Our Father in latin, or they make these healthy mountain boys into god-fearing folk by pumping them full of Pontoppidan’s latin; that was the same thing; priests were priests whether they went about with a collar or a hood. And so they come here and claim that they were the ones who fashioned the people’s enlightenment; and a new school! That is what is called priests’ humbug; or he did not know what priests’ humbug was. “Yes, that is damn well priests’ humbug!” shouted the robbers from the Apennines with a bang on the table.(1)
Daniel sat, staring at Fram like a bird fascinated by a colorful snake; he was afraid, but he must see it through. Then the theologian argued by enumerating all the good things the priests had done in the school commission, he was so angry that he spoke eloquently. During all this time, Strand and Rud were exchanging small talk, and Daniel was acknowledged as “one of our own.” Strand bowed in jest and said that he would “recommend that dear Jens Rud consider”if we ought not to have beer on such an occasion as this”; Jens clinked o his coffee cup to call Johanna and ordered a couple of beer bottles, which was met with an appreciative shout from the company. Fram and the theologian grew more and more heated. The priest in the school commission was discarded; the defender took refuge in a new position and defended the priest in his role as the savior of souls. Fram was outraged over this mental switch and spoke about logical falsity and brutish thought; sparks shot out of his eyes. The theologian got support from his companion who said that the soul will be poorly cared for by “agitators” who preach about apparent death on Easter Sunday; Fram said that what the souls needed was enlightenment; so that they should not, like King Saul, go about thinking that they were possessed by the devil when they were in reality suffering from bad nerves, or seek the priest instead of the doctor when they were hypchondriacs; that theologian savior of souls was a destroyer of souls! “Yes, a destroyer of souls!” thundred the choir of robbers.
The theologians grabbed their caps and left; this was too ungodly to listen to. At the door some guests had gathered and stood there listening to the debate; the group broke amid laughter and chatter; and the argument was taken up again at all the tables; but some argued about Fram. Many admired this fiery fellow who was without fear, especially when he was shaking up the priests; others were angry at these young folk prophets who “would understand all things even if they barely had beards on their chins.”
“Cheers!” said Jens Rund. “This, Fram, is graduate student Daniel Braut; farmer and a friend of farmers, republicans, a very norwegian Norwegian and everything that is good, a toast to him!” Daniel blushed red; he knew he could not answer to such greatness. “You exaggerate the goodness,” he said. “Too much!” screamed the robbers; “there is never too much of beer and radicalism”. “From what village are you from?” asked Fram; Daniel replied to it. “They have a good dialect there,” said Fram; Daniel stared. He had never known anything as ugly as the dialect in his village. “Yes, then you must naturally be an advocate of the language?” asked a robber; (3) at once it occurred to Daniel that it was reasonable to talk about language and answered yes. “That means,” he added, “that I haven’t thought much about it, but there is a thing that ...” “That explains itself!” the robber.concluded for him.
Another robber came in, a full-blooded one, with his arm in a sling, with the face of a gypsy, with unruly hair, an unwashed appearance, with a scarf instead of a collar around his neck; scruffy and untidy he was all the way through. With an unexpectedly light voice, he said, “Oh, God bless you all, give me some beer, I am so thisty.”
“By god, Mjøltråvaren is out!” shouted the group. “Where did you come from?” asked Strand. “Our Lord also said that once to the devil; I come from here and there; I have been out and looked the world over quite a bit.” Mjøltrovaren took a glass and drank; then he sat down. And then he said he has a story to tell that they would pay with gold just to hear it. “We do not have gold”said Strand, “but what we have, we shall give you.” “Beer!” “How much?” “We shall talk about that later.” “You can cheat me.” “You can do that too. The story first!” “Money first!” “That doesn’t matter.” “Then I will get beer afterwards?” “Yes, of course.” Mjøltråvaren held out his glass and then drank until it was empty: “so I get one now in order to loosen my tongue.” Jens poured. “Thanks! If one has to tell a story, one must oil the neck joints now and then, you know,” he said.
Mjøltråvaren began his story. He had as usual been without money, and where the devil should he get money at this time? Then he got an idea. He went to “Pater omnipotents” and had himself converted. “Bravo! Laugher). Well and good. He went to Pater omnipotens. He confessed sins that he has not committed, for those he had commited, the devil will take care of! But most of all he was whining that he had gotten himself mixed up with the Fram clique, where he had gotten so much of Satan’s traps and temptations, so that he had nearly lost the faith of his childhood. (“Hurrah! Mjøltråvaren’s childhood faith!) Pater omnipotens was impressed over Mjøltråvaren’s repentance and told him the story of the thief on the cross (Laughter); so he asked what Mjøltråvaren would like to do now. He answered that he first and foremost wanted to “work for his salvation.” (Bravissimo!), and that he had thought of trying theology (worse and worse!). Then the Pater went down on his knees, and so Mjøltråvaren also had to go down on his knees (ha! ha!), and Pater shed tears over this repentant sinner and future theologian. But what about the money then. How could one mention such a secular thing as money at such a solemn moment like this. But he managed to do so. He asked Pater for a Bible. He had such a deep longing to read God’s word, he said, but he unfortuantely had so little of this world’s money that he--truth to tell--cannot afford even to get himself the bread of life. With joy in his heart Pater gladly gave him 5 dalar ang told him to come back as often as he needed; and Mjøltråvaren thanked him with beautiful words, and was so clever that he actually had tears in his eyes, because of the laughter that was welling up inside him.
Møltråvaren made good his word with his story. Everybody laughed and enjoyed it, except for Jens Rud; Fram laughed a bit, but was silent at the end. Daniel took his cue from Jens Rud and behaved accordingly. Mjøltråvaren got his beer and was very proud of himself. But suddenly Fram turned towards him and said, “You are a disgrace, Mikkelsen! Daniel was pleased with Fram. Mikkelsen justified himself; Fram sat and looked up at the ceiling and did not seem to hear him. When the waitress came in, he said, “You have time to be a censor, Johanna?” She raised her head and smiled: not now. “Then you can manage as well as you can,” said Fram to his flock, “but you have to think as people and not as schoolboys.” He read what he had written; and wanted to know if it was written in a style that ordinary people can understand.
There was an argument over a couple of sentences, and while they were at it, one of the robbers went to Daniel, bowed down and looked him in the eyes and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Braut, couldn’t you, perhaps, lend me a dalar for eight days only? I am quite broke; I should have some money within the month, but he cheated me.” Daniel laughed. “I myself need to borrow money today!” he said. “Oh, well, excuse me, then. You are not annoyed?” “No, not all.” “Thanks”. Almost at once the robber came back with – excuse me – it really is so bad... I am really in a very tight fix, if you manage to borrow money, then maybe you can lend me a whole or a half dalar? You must not take this as an insult!” Daniel was completely amazed. Such it was with them here! And he was so afraid to ask Jens Rud for a loan... “If I get as much as I myself need, that would be the best I can expect, I’m sorry,” he said. The robber apologized again and again.
Daniel got up; he had felt brave to go ahead. As it happened, Strand was chatting with Rud in a corner, and it looked like they were talking about money; yes, Strand got a dalar from Rud. With as easy a manner as he could manage, Daniel said, “Are there more of that?” and he got red around the eyes. Jens looked at the chap and he understood what it was about; without a word, he got out a fiver and gave it to him. “Thank you, thanks...” “Is that enough?” asked Jens. “Yes, yes, thank you...” he couldn’t say more; he was happy, ashamed, and walked away as if he had stolent the five dalar.
But that day, Daniel had learned something, that a brave fellow can fight it out and survive for a time with small loans.
He has to try that approach. There was nothing else for him. He would pay as soon as he got a house tutor’s post; he would not cheat anyone. And he could very well get that job as others had done.
“It is true, couldn’t you spare a dalar or two for a short time? I should have gotten some money from a man, but he had cheated me, and I am so broke!” Thus sounded the lesson that Daniel could live on for a while. With a little stammer and a red face, he used this formula; he knew he was lying, and he knew that he was not welcome. But... when he had to, so... and deep inside him was a half-formulated thought that laid the blame on the Good Lord.
He attended lectures more often than before; and that was to save firewood to heat his room. In the afternoons he sat mostly at the basement coffeeshop. It was warm there, and he met people there; sometimes he got beer; and he could look at the newspapers if there was “something for him.” There was nothing but it did not trouble his conscience.
One day there was an ad at the University for the job of a house tutor, and Daniel debated with hmself if he should apply for it. But when he read it, he saw that the house tutor should know English, and that is something he did not know.
So there was nothing else to do. And it was bad. But soon something better might come up.
He often turned up at the gatherings of Fram’s flock; there was no need for restraint in that company. And there was much to hear. Fram was something else; Daniel was sometimes afraid of him. He said right out what he meant; and one had to listen whether he liked it or not. But he could talk with reckless abandon, and Daniel was annoyed when he spoke about “students’ humbg” and “latin foolishness”. “They talk about half educated robbers,” said Fram, “but you know where you find most of them. What could be more “half educated” than all this humbug that drift to the second examination and by trickery get a 2 or a 1 in philosophy, for example. Yes, those are fat philosophers. If they have given an answer that they themselves had thought of, then it does not go well for them; but if they give an answer that is something they don’t understand at all but which they have learned from a book, then everything goes right. Or in astronomy. We know all about these characters that dive into the grey light of dawn up to the tutor and would memorize some formulas that they think they could use to cheat the poor simpleton of a professor. They get long and great recipes that they learned a couple of hours before the exam and would forget a couple of hours later and would never again look at. Go out and look at these young hopefuls going up and down Karl Johan street, with their affectations and supercilious eyes, with spectacles on the nose, with a walking stick in the hand, with pomade in the hair, with a tassel in their cap, with their gloved hand, pompous and conceited, that, as anyone can see, is their main goal in life. Go out in the evening, when they stroll along the outskirts and corners and to the houses – and all of them shall soon go out to preach the fear of god and sexual morality and respect for the law. Go out in the evening and look at all these lawers who provoke the police and then detained at the city hall and penalized with a fine; and all these are those who would uphold the law. And in all this emphtiness, and emptiness on emptiness, the farmer should pay for; and so they go about with their stiff neck and turned-up nose and talk about the crude farmers and half educated robbers and claim that they are the cultured ones!” Daniel had never heard anything like this. There could be some truth in it, but to say it! And to say it that way!
But when Fram talked about such a student and his doings, he could talk so nicely, and also very clearly that Daniel sat there enthralled. It wielded a wonderful power over his youth, he was fiery and as angry as a prophet, and strong and rich in words like a poet; and his clarity of thought gave him a bright aura. His eyes were so bright and warm, and the face so expressive and moving. When he spoke of faith, it brought Daniel thoughts of what has been written about false prophets and of the devil clad in an angel’s clothes; because Fram was dangerous. He could turn his words so nicely, and formulate his arguments so well that they sound so reasonable, and the snake in paradise could never have done it better. Daniel listened to him with a half yearning terror as Eve did when she listened to the beautiful and treacherous: “You shall be like God”; he knew from his childhood’s catechism that everything that Fram said about these things were lies and poison; but still the words were so alluring that they could almost be god’s own truth.
The theologian Ellistad who belonged to the clique argued against it, and Daniel thought that he did it well, and he felt safe when he talked. But then Fram turned into fire and glowed, terrifyingly strong, sometimes ugly, and it was futile to talk to him about truth, because he turned everything backward. Can it happen that he has come so far that God had twisted his mind so that he could no longer see? But one time Elligstad said that he himself doubted a lot of things, and that he would either be a fanatic or a high churchman, otherwise, he would become a worse freethinker than both Fram and the others; since then Daniel thought that Elligstad did not do do well against Fram after all, and ince he no longer felt safe when he talked.
There was one thing that Daniel thought about later; and that was the teaching about the devil. He would rather do away with that article. But he arrived at the thought that if he gave up the devil, then he would have to give up a lot of others things too; or everything altogether; it seemed the devil was the groundstone of the building. And so Daniel did not think about it anymore.
But he was a republican; because that couldn’t be so dangerous. As far as he could see, Fram was right about this. It was strange that so many smart people were against the republic. But he was uneasy about this, he consoled hmself with the thought that Fram was a man who could defend both himself and his flock if things became difficult.
All sorts of people came here, and it was a motley group. If there was a poor man who came in conflict with the world and did not own anything and did not have anybody to lean on, he came to Fram; and Fram could never say no, but gave out loans from his shillings to anyone who begged, and never expected to be paid back. In this way he gathered to himself a strange string of wretched and wild followers that followed him like a long shadow, but this was not “the clique”. The clique was a small excquisite group of idealists, city students and peasant students combined, a brave flock who believed in the ideal, loved the future, and freedom of belief. Bjørnson as bard; Fram as the vanguard; the new Norway as battlecry; norwegian Norwegians as the fellows; and europeans too; that was the best of the youth in Norway.
Daniel counted Hærland and Gregus Johnsen as acquaintances, later, Aslak Fjordan, Markus Olivarius, Halvor Mosebø and Sven Dufva. Daniel was now and then with “the clique” because Jens Rud had big thoughts about the boy, but these thoughts Jens Rud got from his brother-in-law, chaplain Hirsch.
Christmas will come soon; Daniel had accumulated a large debt. His way of life had been lousy, and he had been starving more than once a day, but he had in a way saved himself.
Now it was getting to be really tight. One after the other of his acquaintances have left the city. And with burning shame he had realized that they have been avoiding him lately; a couple of them had said it outright that they could not lend him more money. He felt himself poorer and more miserable. Lately, when Christmas was just around the corner, and he had nowhere to go, he steeled himself and went to Fram. That was the worst thing he had done; but he did it anyway. And he got a dalar. When it was spent, he felt reckless and went to Fram one more time. He could not do anything else! He must live! And this should be the last time! Fram had a half dalar piece and he gave it to Daniel. But he did not dare go to the clique again.
Everyday he went to the University and looked at the ads; every morning when he felt sure that he would not meet Fram, he went to the basement coffeshop and looked at the newspaper. There was nothing. Now that it was really tight, there was nothing. He saved and pinched his half dalar like a miser; lived on water and dry bread. But the half dalar was soon gone; and so there he stood on a completely barren ground.
It was a miserable day of sleet and rain in January. He was famished and he was freezing; he had no friewood; the last crust of bread he had must last him until the next morning. Out in the street, he walked to and fro without direction, hollow and empty, wet in the feet; he has not eaten dinner for several days. In the evenings he sneaked into the basement cofeeshop, skulking and afraid like a dog; there was nobody he knew. Should he dare ask for credit? He did not dare. One was a terrible coward when one did not have any money; he plodded on. He went out and trudged along the street; if only there was at least one person he could go to. Then he remembered his old acquaintances Ole Bentsen and Peter Dirk. By God! That was a way out. They would not say no to an old classmate.
He was so glad and felt light that he set out on his way and wanted to find them once more; they lived at Hægdehaugen. But when he found it, they were not at home. Heavy and tired he walked home and lay down. But he was so hungry that he could not sleep. He must get up and eat his last crust of bread. Then he finally slept. And he slept long and heavily.
He got up with a burning hunger; drank three glasses of water and went out. When he came to Hædehaugen, Ole Bentsen and Peter Dirk were still out. Sometimes they came home in the afternoon.
Daniel was so lightheaded that he could hardly hold himself upright. But hour after hour he continued to drag himself; splashing and sliding up the street and down the street, until he could see that they had come home. It was a wretched day. Food, food was his one and only thought.
At last he was at the end of his strength. The hunger was tearing at his chest; he was so worn out that he was dizzy; over his eyes lay a hot heaviness. He had to go up and see if they had come home.
Weary and drained he reached the house; he was so weak in the knee. By God. He breathed out and straightened himself up as well as he could; he felt so shy as he stood there. There was no telling how welcome he would be; and he had never had anything to do with these guys. And now he comes and wants to borrow money. But one must harden himself.
He knocked on the door and went in. Good evening. It was dark in there; they did not recognize him; Good evening?” they replied questioningly. Wood burned in the fireplace; here was warmth and Daniel went dizzy. He went forward and took the hand of Ole Bentsen; “Do you not recognize me?” he asked, his voice was so terribly hollow and whining. Peter Dirk who lay in the sofa, smoking, raised himself up and lighted a candle; Ole Bentsen had in the meantime recognized Daniel and said: “Oh, is it... so, people we rarely see are out walking?” Daniel blushed and said that they lived so far away. He had often thought of dropping by, but... the time... So he walked towards Peter Dirk to greet him. “Now, how is it going?” he said. “Oh, thank you.” “Have a seat.” And he sat down.
Ole Bentsen and Peter Dirk looked at the boy; glanced at each other and exchanged a knowing look. They had heard that it was not going well with Daniel Sørbraut; and now they can see it for themselves. He was yellow. Around his eyes was a wide sickly ring. And the red, scraggly beard gave the face a somewhat wild and miserable look. Peter Dirk was so affected with what he saw that he asked Daniel if he wanted a glass of beer; “Thanks,” said Daniel and flushed with joy. “I think we have a half bottle left from dinner,” said Peter with an uneasy glance at Ole, who nodded. “We have dinner at home sometimes,” he told Daniel, “one must shape the mouth according to the food sack, you know.” “That is so,” answered Daniel; he turned yellow again. Peter Dirk took the bottle of beer and poured, but he poured only for two. They do not want to drink with me, thought Daniel; more for me, then. “God ahead, please” said Peter to Daniel and Ole. “No, please, go ahead,” said Ole to Peter. Peter took the glass and nodded to Daniel; he rose, stood unsteadily by the table, took the glass with trembling hands and drank it empty. O, good God, how good it tasted. And if felt so good! Then, if one only had a bit of food to go with it... But in that moment, he saw that Peter only took a sip from his glass. Daniel felt ashamed; excused himself, saying, “It is good to have beer when one is so thirsty.” “Oh, yes, of course,” said Ole Bentsen.
Daniel began to prattle; the beer had made him quite brave. It was also about having these guys for company. Ole Bentsen sat himself in the rocking chair in front of the table and was silent; Peter Dirk lay on the sofa and smoked and answered yes and no. They understood very well what he wanted. He had all the marks of a poor man who was out to “catch money” and knew that he had little credibility; shifty, devious and shoddy; he prattled about things they might like; made himself cordial and frendly; agreed with them in everything and anything, like a dog waving its tail; they sat and wished the fellow away in Bloksberg and became more and more silent. (4)
Daniel saw how little they cared about what he was saying; and afterwards when the satisfaction from the beer had faded, he felt as poor and tongue-tied as before. He sat as if he was melding into the chair; the voice weak and failing. His nerve failed him more and more and he did not dare ask about money; but, should he not continue to sit here and wait for the supper to come? Shame would force them to invite him to join them ....
Ole Bentsen and Peter Dirk sat and exchanged looks with each other. Then Peter rose and looked at the clock. “What time is it?” asked Ole Bentsen. “Half past five”, he answered.” “Oh, so late?” said Ole. “Yes, and I have to read now,” “Yes, what about me, then?” said Peter Dirk. Daniel understood. He was dark red in the face and stood up. “Yes, is it that late... so I have to go home and read too,” he said. “Oh, yes, it is a long way home,” said Ole Bentsen. “Yes.” Daniel stood up and hesitated, should he dare ask? Oh, yes, he would get nothing worse than a no... he could not go home with empty hands; hastily, the words tumbled out: “I have to walk a long way home, yes, and I should be going to the professors’ living quaraters... and I have an acquaintance there who should have some money, but he was not at home today, and now I must... But tell me, it is a long way, and it is dark and the roads are slippery.. Could you not help a classmate with a couple of marks until tomorrow? He stood and fumbled with his hands and twisted his cap and looked like a thief. (5) “Mmm-no,” said Ole Bentsen nicely and quietly; “the truth is I don’t have so much. And I have been waiting for money the past several days; but I do not understand wbat they must be thinking of back home,” and to underline his meaning, he added, “frankly, I have borrowed so much that when I get the money, it must go to pay those debts. But, how is with you, Peter? Have you enough?” Peter Dirk raised an embarrassed face, took out his purse, opened it, turned it inside out, widened his eyes in bewilderment... there was only a shirt button in it. Peter Dirk made a wry face. Daniel coughed up a a painful laugh. “Well, yes, yes,” he said with a trembling mouth: “So I shall have to go to the other... It is quite far, but... Yes, thanks for tonight.” “Thank you, too. Have a safe journey home!” “Thank you. Goodnight.” “Goodnight!”
He went down the stairs with his back cringing in shame and a sick feeling. He almost cried when he was outside. Now he had begged for a bone, and he had not gotten the bone. Slowly and sadly he shambled down the street. A drunk shuffled up right in front of him, “Is one afraid, boy?” Daniel passed him silently. Two happy young gentlemen passed by, smoking cigars that smelled awfully strong; they crowded the sidewalk so Daniel had to step down to the street. Servant girls came by carrying milk pails and baskets filled with bottles and bread; it was so painful to see; his eyes fastened on the baskets . Everybody had food; everybody lived; nobody had a bite of food for him.
He stood outside a store selling household goods, the small shop was filled with people. With ravenous eyes, he looked at all that food that were laid out on the counter, bread, butter, cheese, sausages, bottles of beer, coffee in half-pound packs, grain, peas, meat, eggs, and he was stunned with hunger. With a pitiful sigh, he drew away from the door, but he continued to stand at the window. He leaned on the wall; he was so tired. The shoulders sagged, his knees could barely hold him up. Oh, oh, wonderful food; oh, even just a dry piece of bread and a glass of water... He stared with feverish eyes all all those good things that he could see through the window; a huge jar full of cookies, candies, prunes, sugar, on a string high up hang a big leg of salted ham; and in an enormous basket was bread, big, delicious bread, baked golden brown and fresh; the bread of life... He stood and stared, dreaming; was thinking of finding a way to push open the window with a dry tar cloth so that the glass would not break... and take, take that bread that lay so beautifuly golden and fascinating; then he woke up. Shivering and freezing, he pulled himself together; hobbled along on his way. At home he would lie down. He was sick. If only he could sleep. If he had Berta Maria now, he would beg her for food tonight. She would not say no. Oh, oh....
Down through Homan town he walked with slow steps. The street was full of people; everybody was going home and eat. It was cold and chilly. But there were lights in all the windows. Each time a door opened, a sweet smell of fresh bread and other kinds of food drifted down from the rooms like air from paradise. What should he do with himself tomorrow? Go to Pater omnipotens? Yes, had he only been converted.... But it can happen, when he woke up, the postman would come with a yellow slip of paper; “to Mr. Student Dr. Braut has arrived a letter, signed... 10 spd.” 10 dalar; bread, butter, milk, no, beer; cheese, No, rather a sausage... eat well... then to the shoemaker... new shoes; two dalar... then dinner... oh, oh, dinner! Nice warm dinner, he felt himself full and sated. It was only a dream. Do not think of food. Do not think of food...
There was something more important than food. Hhhmphh! If he had been so filled with spirit, he would have been a balloon, but he would still be as soulless as long as he could not eat...
At home in the countryside he has had it good. There was always a table where he could eat. It could been so cramped in other ways; but they had food. If it was a tough time, they could butcher a cow. They did not starve. It was not for nothing that the old ones regarded bread as sacred; and they talked about holy oxen.
When they were hungry, the giants that Homer described set oxen on spits, braised and roasted and they ate, filling themselves with tender meat and sweet wine; it was not in the least awful to be a giant in this way. Daniel sucked his tongue. He knew the taste of tender meat and sweet wine; and his mouth watered.
He walked, and he walked. He felt himself so hollow that he would easily break; and the shoulders ached as if there was fire in them. Cigar smoke drifted strong and hot around him; the sound of piano playing floated out from all the living rooms. It was so agonizing to hear it; there inside sat folk who had warmth and light. They would eat well tonight; and will have their toddy. He shivered. He felt the frosty January air under his skin.
He had arrived at the street where the theater was. The cold air pushed at him. But he was too tired to walk himself warm. There was no place where one could on in either, when one did not have money.
Up there lay the Trinity Church. There was light. Could he go in there and rest? Yes. Nobody would chase him out if he had no money. And it can happen that there might go in a man who would lend him 12 shillings.
He stumbled in. There was a bible reading. He sat down in the first empty seat he saw. Oh, God, he was so tired. A wave of shivering went through him, he was so dizzy that he was almost fainting; right there where he was sitting. And he closed his eyes. But before his closed eyes danced a long row of bread, golden brown, excellently baked bread in baskets and bread in crates. The kind that one ate. The kind that one found on the table when one came hom. Those people who were sitting here, they would go home and have tea and beer for the evening. With butter and bread and three kinds of cheese. And sliced meat. Perhaps, a little plate of codfish first. That would be heavenly. What is it they are singing? He could not distinguish the words. But everytime they came to the end of the verse, he thought that he clearly heard something that he had forgotten along the way.
“God gives his people both clothes and food
as they sleep so sweetly”
Yes, they could sing that. On his part, he had never seen anything about food or clothes coming when one lay down in sleep. But people such as these, who was not of the Fram clique, and who have not lived the ideal student life, they got both that one and the other. They looked like they did. They were both well fed and well clad; they could afford to be pious. A candidate or something went up to the pulpit and explained somethng that Daniel did not understand. He heard some; but some echoed from all the walls that answered back each word of the homily, and made it seem that the homily was swimming against the strong current of a stream. And some of it Daniel did not hear at all, because the dizzying hunger drove his thoughts away.
But he suddenly woke up and made himself listen. The homily was about the ungodly who lived wildly and used everything he owned in a sinful life; and when they have wasted everything they owned, it could happen that they brought their clothes to bring to the pawnshop so that they could have something to sin for. The pawnshop! The word woke up Daniel. That was a way out. Then he could get food before he went to bed.
Did he have enough to pawn? The books were useless; they were old and in bad condition. The winter coat – he needed that very badly; he did not have a wristwatch. But the student cap? Yes, that one... He got up, he could hardly stand, but he forced himself on his feet, ran out of the church, went home to get the student cap, and then to the pawnshop as fast as he could.
He expected to get a dalar for his cap. He did not get it; he got two marks. But two marks was still money; Daniel felt himself very rich when he went out of the pawnshop. With a new strength and quicker steps he went to the basement coffesshop and got over the worst hunger. On the way home he bought bread and beer; when he arrived home, he ate again.
Safe and warm and completely tired, he sat there half asleep; the beer had made his head feel soft and warm, almost like wool.
But he had a terrible pain in the head.
___________
(1) Fram - see Appendix
(2) Pontopiddian - see Appendix
(3) Norwegian is the main body of language that has three main “languages”-- riksmål, which is basically Danish; bokmål, which is a modified and modernized riksmål; and, nynorsk is the language created out of all the dialects spoken all over Norway. However, riksmål is no longer an official language; only bokmål and nynorsk are recognized.
(4) Blokberg - a mountain in Germany where witches gather from all over the world once a year.
(5) mark - a fraction of a shilling