Repetition and Movement

At the very beginning of this blog I mentioned the Eleatics. In plain English, Eleatics believed that anything that changed or moved was not real. They recognized that in the physical world there was always change, but they simply believed that all that stuff was unimportant, and in fact an illusion. However, for Kierkegaard's definition of repetition, he could not accept this to be true. After all, repetition is meaningful motion. He believed that the world was constantly changing, but for that change to have meaning, something must stay the same. For example, while time marches on and the seasons change, every day the girl in the garden is able to appreciate her flowers with enthusiasm. That constancy in change is repetition, and it is vital to happiness.

Thus, for Kierkegaard not only was it demeaning to accept that our current life and all the things we observe do not matter, but he believed that denying motion meant that repetition, and thus happiness were impossible. In this way, Kierkegaard had to mention the Eleatics, just so that he could make the point that our lives now DO matter.

Repetition and its Possibility

On page 42 of Repetition, the narrator states, ". . . one need not move from the spot in order to become convinced that repetition is impossible. No, one can sit peacefully in one's living room, when everything is vanity and passes away, then one travels more briskly than if one travelled by train, despite the fact that one is sitting still (42)." This quote seems odd within Repetition, as it in fact argues that repetition is impossible, because everything changes. This confused me at first, but once one reads further, it makes sense. This is because there is an important transition within the novel, as the narrator goes from doubting that repetition is possible, to finding that it actually is.

To understand this transition, it is important to put this quote into context. At this point in the novel, the narrator has befriended a young man who is now in trouble. The young man had fallen in love with a young girl, when he realized that he could not love her properly. To save her heartbreak in the future, the young man refused to marry her, knowing that he could only misery to her and himself in the long run. However, this caused a great scandal in the town, and the young man is judged harshly by his community. At the same time, the narrator finds that he could not recapture the pleasures of Berlin by returning to the city, as everything has changed. Thus, the narrator and the young man have both found, through reflection, that they are in a rut, which leads them to believe that repetition is impossible.

After this point in the novel, however, things begin to turn around. The young girl moves on, thus allowing the young man to move on without condemnation, and the narrator begins to see that repetition is indeed possible. This transition occurs at the same time that religious tones begin to appear within the novel, which should not be a surprise, as Kierkegaard was highly religious, and believed that the ultimate repetition occurs when one begins taking the path that God intended for him.

The Narrator vs. the Writer

So far on this blog I have made a distinction between the narrator of Repetition and Kierkegaard, which I hope hasn't been confusing. However, I know that it does leave the question of who is narrator. Well, I wrote a paper about it for my class, and I wanted to share it here.

A Transition in Narrators and a Rebirth to Faith

Søren Kierkegaard’s Repetition is perhaps his least understood work, and the greatest quandary within it concerns the identity of the narrator. In this paper, I will argue that the narrator transitions from a wizened version of the young man to God, paralleling Kierkegaard’s rebirth into faith. To do this, I will first show that the narrator begins as an older version of the young man, reflecting on himself.

After only a brief musing over what repetition truly is, the first half of Repetition begins to digress into the story of the narrator and the young man that caught his attention. This young man had become lovesick over an unnamed young woman, an event which captivated the narrator in an odd way, causing him to conspire with and console the boy in turn.  Through the relationship between the young man and his beloved, the narrator illustrates what he sees to be the impossibility of repetition caused by the inevitability of recollection. For Kierkegaard, and thus the narrator, repetition is an individual’s ability to continuously be happy with life as it is in the moment, while recollection is the habit of humans to look at the their life backwards, only recognizing a moment once it has already become a memory.

Though the narrator claims throughout Repetition to be primarily an observer, within the context of the young man he cannot help but to become involved, hinting that their relationship is more intimate than that between a scientist and a subject. In fact, the narrator even admits this, explaining his lost objectivity by stating, “a love-struck young person is such a beautiful sight that one cannot help but to rejoice in it and thus forget to observe.” (Kierkegaard, 6)* Still, this explanation for the narrator’s fascination is flimsy at best, given that his interest only grows stronger once he realizes the young man “would become unhappy . . . the young girl would as well.” (8) Thus, if the narrator’s interest did not evolve from his appreciation of the beautiful effect love had on the young man, there must be something deeper to their connection.

Surely there are many relationships that are deeper than that of an observer and his observed, but none quite explain the complete insight the narrator has into the mind of the young man. The narrator explains it simply enough when he states, “Now I understood everything.” (9) He understood from the beginning that his young companion could not hold onto his love for the girl, just as he knew, without being told, that the young man was tormented by his need to make her happy, even if it was at the cost of his own joy.

Such vivid understanding has to come from something deeper than simple compassion, rather it comes from personal experience. This is better understood when the narrator speaks of the young girl’s ignorance to the entire situation, explaining, “She suspected nothing, I believe this. It would be disturbing . . . to think that a young girl could be so vain as to be flattered by a person’s depression . . . I was once very close to discovering such a relationship.” (10) Clearly, the narrator had once been in a very similar situation, though I doubt that such a situation was very common. What is the chance then that the narrator happened to become entranced by a subject who would eventually follow the same path he had as a young man? I propose that it is highly unlikely, and that instead it is more likely that just as the young man was, “in a position to recollect his love,” (7) so too was the narrator recollecting that same lost love, for “The great advantage of recollection is that it begins with loss.” (8)

The greatest evidence of the narrator’s oneness with the young man comes when he states clearly, “You will understand now that what is of interest here is the young person . . . because I have in a way delivered him, and as the elder I am allowed to speak.” (81) The statement so clearly summarizes the narrator’s entire work, for everything outside of the young man’s drama seemed only a digression. In fact, repetition did not seem integral at all to the novel, except that it could provide the young man happiness, just as recollection served solely as the young man’s adversary to joy. The narrator explains further by saying, “My personality is a presupposition of consciousness, which must be present in order to force him out, whereas my personality could never come to the place where he arrives.” (81) This makes complete sense as the narrator cannot live in his recollection of youth, but can only cast his personality over it when telling his story and attempting to understand.

As above I have clearly argued that in the first half of Repetition the narrator is an older version of the young man, reflecting on his life, I will continue by proving that in the second half the narrator is God. Overall I will present to you that this transition parallels the change in authority over Kierkegaard’s life, from his own recollections to God.

On my last blog post, I mentioned that being watched can make you better. I then found this article about just that and I wanted to share!

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-the-illusion-of-being-observed-can-make-you-better-person/

Observation- More Than a Tangent

I realize that my last post was a little out of order, going off on a tangent without getting to the heart of what observation really is for Kierkegaard, so I will attempt to remedy that in this post. As I said before, the theme of observation is prevalent in Repetition, though it is important to note that, as many terms do for Kierkegaard, "observation" means more than its strict definition. For Kierkegaard, observation is a directed action, as the narrator will never accidentally observe. Furthermore, it is important to note that observation is a removal from the here and now, which is an issue the Kierkegaard has with it.

On the macroscopic level, observation is the manifestation of what Kierkegaard sees to be his most prominent feature. He is both blessed with the ability to understand the human condition through observation as well as cursed with the burden of always being removed from immediate pleasure because he is always observing himself. My professor brought up to the class that Kierkegaard was raised by a father who was highly religious, and that this prodded Kierkegaard to always watch himself so that he could prevent sin in his life. This also explains why Kierkegaard was very specific with his definition of sin later on, but that's a topic for another day.

Within Repetition, the narrator highlights many features of observation, but one of the most noticeable is that observation can be a good thing. After all, when the narrator goes to the theater he is observing the actors, which brings him pleasure and allows him to find communion he might be lacking. Furthermore, when we know that we are being observed, we tend to act better. Still, we are most ourselves when we are alone, because with observation often comes comparison and measurement, which tends to remove us from life.

Thus, as with all things, observation is recommended in moderation, which is an important rule which the narrator seems to neglect throughout much of Repetition. After all, when describing repetition the narrator opposes it to recollection and hope. However, I think we can all agree that recollection and hope are both great things in moderation, it is just when that becomes your entire life that it is an issue.

A Tangent on Observation

Today in seminar we discussed how Kierkegaard handles the theme of observation in Repetition, before we found ourselves on a slight tangent. The theme is clearly pervasive with the narrator even telling his reader that, ““I ordinarily have a tendency to relate to other people merely as an observer (6) . . .” Kierkegaard then goes on to speak of the theatre in great detail, as he seems to be inspired by the actors on stage for their ability to show raw emotion to their audience. After all, for Kierkegaard we are most ourselves when we are alone, and the ability to be genuine while being watched is a valuable skill. This brings me to the tangent by which we found ourselves distracted.

The narrator within Repetition tells the story of how he observes a young woman every time that he cannot sleep. She walks out to her garden every morning, smelling the flowers and basking in the glory of its beauty. The narrator finds this sight to be gorgeous, the very definition of repetition, and many in the class found his enjoyment of this sight to be a type of repetition itself. However, I found this slightly disturbing, as repetition is supposed to be good thing that brings joy to your life (as discussed in an earlier post) and the narrator seems like a stalker to me. After all, he admits to hiding in the bushes, and speaks of this girl in a somewhat jealous tone, writing, “If a man ever wins your love, I hope you make him as happy by being everything to him, as you make me by doing nothing for me (36).” This just strikes me as odd, and a little obsessive. Still, this is not the first time that the narrator has admitted to “observing” a young woman.

Starting on page 34, the narrator begins speaking of a young lady that he has taken notice of at the theater. Just like the narrator, the young woman attends the theater every night, and he finds as much enjoyment in watching her as he does the show. At first this seemed innocent enough to me, but when paired with his stalking of the girl in the garden it seems like a pattern of less-than-normal behavior is established. This feeling was underline when I realized that even the narrator knew that it would be bad if he were caught watching the young woman, as he admits, “She had no idea that she was being observed, much less that I kept watch over her. It would not have been good for her had she known, and it would have been even worse for me (35) . . .”

Overall, though the narrator finds comfort and pleasure from “observing” these girls, and he does it continuously without tiring from it, I would say that it is too perverse to be considered repetition. Instead, I would call it stalking.

What is repetition?

Kierkegaard spent much time writing about repetition, which he believed to be the key to happiness in life. In order to understand his philosophy, one must also understand his definition of repetition, which is hard, considering he seems to have been just comprehending the concept himself. While he struggled to deal with what exactly repetition was, or if it was at all possible, he often defined it by that which it was not- hope and recollection. Below are some of the ways he defined each of these terms.

Hope is . . .

“new attire, stiff and starched and splendid. Still . . .   one does not know whether it will suit one . . .”

“a pretty girl, who slips away from one’s grasp.”

“an enticing fruit that fails to satisfy”

 Recollection is . . .

“discarded clothing which, however lovely it might be, no longer suits one because one has outgrown it.”

“a beautiful older woman who never suits the moment.”

“sorrowful sustenance that fails to satisfy.”

Repetition is . . .

“clothing that never becomes worn, that becomes warn, that neither pulls nor hangs too loosely.”

“a beloved wife of whom one never tires . . .”

“the daily bread that satisfies through blessing.”

More simply put, for Kierkegaard repetition was the ability to continue to do something with joy and enthusiasm. On the other hand, constant hope and recollection both oppose this force. Hope focuses too much on the future, recollection on the past, while repetition revels in the very moment. By ceasing to constantly search for something more or look back to what one has had, one can calm oneself and enjoy what is there in the moment. Without this ability, Kierkegaard believed that it was impossible to be truly happy.