“I know it sounds a bit crazy, but all I want to do is read my present from Dad.”
“Well, as long as he doesn’t make you completely delirious.”
“No way.”
“We could share a pizza while we watch that mystery on TV.”
“Yes, if you like.”
Hilde suddenly thought of the way Sophie spoke to her mother. Dad had hopefully not written any of Hilde’s mother into the character of the other mother? Just to make sure, she decided not to mention the white rabbit being pulled out of the top hat. Not today, at least.
“By the way,” she said as she was leaving the table.
“What?”
“I can’t find my gold crucifix anywhere.”
Her mother looked at her with an enigmatic expression.
“I found it down by the dock weeks ago. You must have dropped it, you untidy scamp.”
“Did you mention it to Dad?”
“Let me think…yes, I believe I may have.”
“Where is it then?”
Her mother got up and went to get her own jewelry case. Hilde heard a little cry of surprise from the bedroom. She came quickly back into the living room.
“Right now I can’t seem to find it.”
“I thought as much.”
She gave her mother a hug and ran upstairs to her room. At last—now she could read on about Sophie and Alberto. She sat up on the bed as before with the heavy ring binder resting against her knees and began the next chapter.
Sophie woke up the next morning when her mother came into the room carrying a tray loaded with birthday presents. She had stuck a flag in an empty soda bottle.
“Happy birthday, Sophie!”
Sophie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She tried to remember what had happened the night before. But it was all like jumbled pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. One of the pieces was Alberto, another was Hilde and the major. A third was Berkeley, a fourth Bjerkely. The blackest piece of all was the violent storm. She had practically been in shock. Her mother had rubbed her dry with a towel and simply put her to bed with a cup of hot milk and honey. She had fallen asleep immediately.
“I think I’m still alive,” she said weakly.
“Of course you’re alive! And today you are fifteen years old.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Quite sure. Shouldn’t a mother know when her only child was born? June 15, 1975…and half-past one, Sophie. It was the happiest moment of my life.”
“Are you sure it isn’t all only a dream?”
“It must be a good dream to wake up to rolls and soda and birthday presents.”
She put the tray of presents on a chair and disappeared out of the room for a second. When she came back she was carrying another tray with rolls and soda. She put it on the end of the bed.
It was the signal for the traditional birthday morning ritual, with the unpacking of presents and her mother’s sentimental flights back to her first contractions fifteen years ago. Her mother’s present was a tennis racket. Sophie had never played tennis, but there were some open-air courts a few minutes from Clover Close. Her father had sent her a mini-TV and FM radio. The screen was no bigger than an ordinary photograph. There were also presents from old aunts and friends of the family.
Presently her mother said, “Do you think I should stay home from work today?”
“No, why should you?”
“You were very upset yesterday. If it goes on, I think we should make an appointment to see a psychiatrist.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Was it the storm—or was it Alberto?”
“What about you? You said: ‘What’s happening to us, little one?’”
“I was thinking of you running around town to meet some mysterious person…Maybe it’s my fault.”
“It’s not anybody’s ‘fault’ that I’m taking a course in philosophy in my leisure time. Just go to work. School doesn’t start till ten, and we’re only getting our grades and sitting around.”
“Do you know what you’re going to get?”
“More than I got last semester at any rate.”
Not long after her mother had gone the telephone rang.
“Sophie Amundsen.”
“This is Alberto.”
“Ah.”
“The major didn’t spare any ammunition last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“The thunderstorm, Sophie.”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“That is the finest virtue a genuine philosopher can have. I am proud of how much you have learned in such a short time.”
“I am scared that nothing is real.”
“That’s called existential angst, or dread, and is as a rule only a stage on the way to new consciousness.”
“I think I need a break from the course.”
“Are there that many frogs in the garden at the moment?”
Sophie started to laugh. Alberto continued: “I think it would be better to persevere. Happy birthday, by the way. We must complete the course by Midsummer Eve. It’s our last chance.”
“Our last chance for what?”
“Are you sitting comfortably? We’re going to have to spend some time on this, you understand.”
“I’m sitting down.”
“You remember Descartes?”
“‘I think, therefore I am?’”
“With regard to our own methodical doubt, we are right now starting from scratch. We don’t even know whether we think. It may turn out that we are thoughts, and that is quite different from thinking. We have good reason to believe that we have merely been invented by Hilde’s father as a kind of birthday diversion for the major’s daughter from Lillesand. Do you see?”
“Yes…”
“But therein also lies a built-in contradiction. If we are fictive, we have no right to ‘believe’ anything at all. In which case this whole telephone conversation is purely imaginary.”
“And we haven’t the tiniest bit of free will because it’s the major who plans everything we say and do. So we can just as well hang up now.”
“No, now you’re oversimplifying things.”
“Explain it, then.”
“Would you claim that people plan everything they dream? It may be that Hilde’s father knows everything we do. It may be just as difficult to escape his omniscience as it is to run away from your own shadow. However—and this is where I have begun to devise a plan—it is not certain that the major has already decided on everything that is to happen. He may not decide before the very last minute—that is to say, in the moment of creation. Precisely at such moments we may possibly have an initiative of our own which guides what we say and do. Such an initiative would naturally constitute extremely weak impulses compared to the major’s heavy artillery. We are very likely defenseless against intrusive external forces such as talking dogs, messages in bananas, and thunderstorms booked in advance. But we cannot rule out our stubbornness, however weak it may be.”
“How could that be possible?”
“The major naturally knows everything about our little world, but that doesn’t mean he is all powerful. At any rate we must try to live as if he is not.”
“I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“The trick would be if we could manage to do something all on our own—something the major would not be able to discover.”
“How can we do that if we don’t even exist?”
“Who said we don’t exist? The question is not whether we are, but what we are and who we are. Even if it turns out that we are merely impulses in the major’s dual personality, that need not take our little bit of existence away from us.”
“Or our free will?”
“I’m working on it, Sophie.”
“But Hilde’s father must be fully aware that you are working on it.”
“Decidedly so. But he doesn’t know what the actual plan is. I am attempting to find an Archimedian point.
”
“An Archimedian point?”
“Archimedes was a Greek scientist who said ‘Give me a firm point on which to stand and I will move the earth.’ That’s the kind of point we must find to move ourselves out of the major’s inner universe.”
“That would be quite a feat.”
“But we won’t manage to slip away before we have finished the philosophy course. While that lasts he has much too firm a grip on us. He has clearly decided that I am to guide you through the centuries right up to our own time. But we only have a few days left before he boards a plane somewhere down in the Middle East. If we haven’t succeeded in detaching ourselves from his gluey imagination before he arrives at Bjerkely, we are done for.”
“You’re frightening me!”
“First of all I shall give you the most important facts about the French Enlightenment. Then we shall take the main outline of Kant’s philosophy so that we can get to Romanticism. Hegel will also be a significant part of the picture for us. And in talking about him we will unavoidably touch on Kierkegaard’s indignant clash with Hegelian philosophy. We shall briefly talk about Marx, Darwin, and Freud. And if we can manage a few closing comments on Sartre and Existentialism, our plan can be put into operation.”
“That’s an awful lot for one week.”
“That’s why we must begin at once. Can you come over right away?”
“I have to go to school. We are having a class get-together and then we get our grades.”
“Drop it. If we are only fictive, it’s pure imagination that candy and soda have any taste.”
“But my grades…”
“Sophie, either you are living in a wondrous universe on a tiny planet in one of many hundred billion galaxies—or else you are the result of a few electromagnetic impulses in the major’s mind. And you are talking about grades! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“I’m sorry.”
“But you’d better go to school before we meet. It might have a bad influence on Hilde if you cut your last school-day. She probably goes to school even on her birthday. She is an angel, you know.”
“So I’ll come straight from school.”
“We can meet at the major’s cabin.”
“The major’s cabin?”
…Click!
Hilde let the ring binder slide into her lap. Her father had given her conscience a dig there—she did cut her last day at school. How sneaky of him!
She sat for a while wondering what the plan was that Alberto was devising. Should she sneak a look at the last page? No, that would be cheating. She’d better hurry up and read it to the end.
But she was convinced Alberto was right on one important point. One thing was that her father had an overview of what was going to happen to Sophie and Alberto. But while he was writing, he probably didn’t know everything that would happen. He might dash off something in a great hurry, something he might not notice till long after he had written it. In a situation like that Sophie and Alberto would have a certain amount of leeway.
Once again Hilde had an almost transfiguring conviction that Sophie and Alberto really existed. Still waters run deep, she thought to herself.
Why did that idea come to her?
It was certainly not a thought that rippled the surface.
At school, Sophie received lots of attention because it was her birthday. Her classmates were already keyed up by thoughts of summer vacation, and grades, and the sodas on the last day of school.
The minute the teacher dismissed the class with her best wishes for the vacation, Sophie ran home. Joanna tried to slow her down but Sophie called over her shoulder that there was something she just had to do.
In the mailbox she found two cards from Lebanon. They were both birthday cards: HAPPY BIRTHDAY—15 YEARS. One of them was to “Hilde Møller Knag, c/o Sophie Amundsen…” But the other one was to Sophie herself. Both cards were stamped “UN Battalion—June 15.”
Sophie read her own card first:
Dear Sophie Amundsen,
Today you are getting a card as well. Happy birthday, Sophie, and many thanks for everything you have done for Hilde.
Best regards, Major Albert Knag.
Sophie was not sure how to react, now that Hilde’s father had finally written to her too.
Hilde’s card read:
Dear Hilde,
I have no idea what day or time it is in Lillesand. But, as I said, it doesn’t make much difference. If I know you, I am not too late for a last, or next to last, greeting from down here. But don’t stay up too late! Alberto will soon be telling you about the French Enlightenment. He will concentrate on seven points. They are:
Opposition to authority
Rationalism
The enlightenment movement
Cultural optimism
The return to nature
Natural religion
Human rights
The major was obviously still keeping his eye on them.
Sophie let herself in and put her report card with all the A’s on the kitchen table. Then she slipped through the hedge and ran into the woods.
Soon she was once again rowing across the little lake.
Alberto was sitting on the doorstep when she got to the cabin. He invited her to sit beside him. The weather was fine although a slight mist of damp raw air was coming off the lake. It was as though it had not quite recovered from the storm.
“Let’s get going right away,” said Alberto.
“After Hume, the next great philosopher was the German, Immanuel Kant. But France also had many important thinkers in the eighteenth century. We could say that the philosophical center of gravity in Europe in the eighteenth century was in England in the first half, in France in the middle, and in Germany toward the end of it.”
“A shift from west to east, in other words.”
“Precisely. Let me outline some of the ideas that many of the French Enlightenment philosophers had in common. The important names are Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Rousseau, but there were many, many others. I shall concentrate on seven points.”
“Thanks, that I am painfully aware of.”
Sophie handed him the card from Hilde’s father. Alberto sighed deeply. “He could have saved himself the trouble…the first key words, then, are opposition to authority. Many of the French Enlightenment philosophers visited England, which was in many ways more liberal than their home country, and were intrigued by the English natural sciences, especially Newton and his universal physics. But they were also inspired by British philosophy, in particular by Locke and his political philosophy. Once back in France, they became increasingly opposed to the old authority. They thought it was essential to remain skeptical of all inherited truths, the idea being that the individual must find his own answer to every question. The tradition of Descartes was very inspiring in this respect.”
“Because he was the one who built everything up from the ground.”
“Quite so. The opposition to authority was not least directed against the power of the clergy, the king, and the nobility. During the eighteenth century, these institutions had far more power in France than they had in England.”
“Then came the French Revolution.”
“Yes, in 1789. But the revolutionary ideas arose much earlier. The next key word is rationalism.”
“I thought rationalism went out with Hume.”
“Hume himself did not die until 1776. That was about twenty years after Montesquieu and only two years before Voltaire and Rousseau, who both died in 1778. But all three had been to England and were familiar with the philosophy of Locke. You may recall that Locke was not consistent in his empiricism. He believed, for example, that faith in God and certain moral norms were inherent in human reason. This idea is also the core of the French Enlightenment.”
“You also said that the French have always been more rational than the British.”
“Yes, a difference that goes right back to the Middle Ages. When the British speak of �
�common sense,’ the French usually speak of ‘evident.’ The English expression means ‘what everybody knows,’ the French means ‘what is obvious’—to one’s reason, that is.”
“I see.”
“Like the humanists of antiquity—such as Socrates and the Stoics—most of the Enlightenment philosophers had an unshakable faith in human reason. This was so characteristic that the French Enlightenment is often called the Age of Reason. The new natural sciences had revealed that nature was subject to reason. Now the Enlightenment philosophers saw it as their duty to lay a foundation for morals, religion, and ethics in accordance with man’s immutable reason. This led to the enlightenment movement.”
“The third point.”
“Now was the time to start ‘enlightening’ the masses. This was to be the basis for a better society. People thought that poverty and oppression were the fault of ignorance and superstition. Great attention was therefore focused on the education of children and of the people. It is no accident that the science of pedagogy was founded during the Enlightenment.”
“So schools date from the Middle Ages, and pedagogy from the Enlightenment.”
“You could say that. The greatest monument to the enlightenment movement was characteristically enough a huge encyclopedia. I refer to the Encyclopedia in 28 volumes published during the years from 1751 to 1772. All the great philosophers and men of letters contributed to it. ‘Everything is to be found here,’ it was said, ‘from the way needles are made to the way cannons are founded.’”
“The next point is cultural optimism,” Sophie said.
“Would you oblige me by putting that card away while I am talking?”
“Excuse me.”
“The Enlightenment philosophers thought that once reason and knowledge became widespread, humanity would make great progress. It could only be a question of time before irrationalism and ignorance would give way to an ‘enlightened’ humanity. This thought was dominant in Western Europe until the last couple of decades. Today we are no longer so convinced that all ‘developments’ are to the good.
“But this criticism of ‘civilization’ was already being voiced by French Enlightenment philosophers.”
Sophie's World Page 32
