Abstract

Eternity Lies Beneath: Autonomy and Finitude in Kierkegaard's Early Writings VANESSA RUMBLE AMONG the extant descriptions of Kierkegaard by his contemporaries, one particularly vivid portrait captures the reflections of the young theologian on a carriage ride through his beloved Deer Park: The road was so little travelled that it looked in places almost overgrown with grass. There was absolutely no dust .... On either side there were new leaves on the beech trees .... Uncle Peter [Christian Kierkegaard, SCren's eldest brother] had surely said some- thing about how Danish this sort of weather was -- or even that it was Scandinavian: it was so light and so bright and so fine; there was no wilderness or heath; it was almost childlike in its purity. But the younger brother [SCren] had replied that such weather was perfectly suited to conceal the Eternal. It was a temptation -- he had said that many times -- it tempted the mind to dream and to wander. Who could keep hold of a serious thought while enjoying that smooth, billowing grass? Either one had to let one's mind billow and dream like the grass or one had to surrender to one's thoughts, but in that case all this bright, transient lushness became painful. The whole thing was a quaking bog, he had said. Of course it looked as if that green, open plain was solid ground, but the entire thing was a bog, you know. It quaked and quaked, and Eternity lay beneath. He couldn't imagine how his brother could want..