LOOK BACK ON HAPPINESS
KNUT HAMSUN
Translated from the Norwegian
By PAULA WIKING
I
I have gone to the forest.
Not because I am offended about anything, or very unhappy aboutmen's evil ways; but since the forest will not come to me, I mustgo to it. That is all. I have not gone this time as a slave and avagabond. I have money enough and am overfed, stupefied withsuccess and good fortune, if you understand that. I have left theworld as a sultan leaves rich food and harems and flowers, andclothes himself in a hair shirt.
Really, I could make quite a song and dance about it. For I meanto roam and think and make great irons red-hot. Nietzsche no doubtwould have spoken thus: The last word I spake unto men achievedtheir praise, and they nodded. But it was my last word; and I wentinto the forest. For then did I comprehend the truth, that myspeech must needs be dishonest or foolish.... But I said nothing ofthe kind; I simply went to the forest.
You must not believe that nothing ever happens here. Thesnowflakes drift down just as they do in the city, and the birdsand beasts scurry about from morning till night, and from nighttill morning. I could send solemn stories from this place, but I donot. I have sought the forest for solitude and for the sake of mygreat irons; for I have great irons which lie within me and growred-hot. So I deal with myself accordingly. Suppose I were to meeta buck reindeer one day, then I might say to myself:
"Great heavens, this is a buck reindeer, he's dangerous!"
But if then I should be too frightened, I might tell myself acomforting lie and say it was a calf or some feathered beast.
You say nothing happens here?
One day I saw two Lapps meet. A boy and a girl. At first theybehaved as people do. "Boris!" they said to each other andsmiled. But immediately after, both fell at full length in the snowand were gone from my sight. After a quarter of an hour had passed,I thought, "You'd better see to them; they may be smothered in thesnow." But then they got up and went their separate ways.
In all my weatherbeaten days, I have never seen such a greetingas that.
Day and night I live in a deserted hut of peat into which I mustcrawl on my hands and knees. Someone must have built it long agoand used it, for lack of a better,--perhaps a man who was inhiding, a man who concealed himself here for a few autumn days.There are two of us in the hut, that is if you regard Madame as aperson; otherwise there is only one. Madame is a mouse I live with,to whom I have given this honorary title. She eats everything I putaside for her in the nooks and corners, and sometimes she sitswatching me.
When I first came, there was stale straw in the hut, whichMadame by all means was allowed to keep; for my own bed I cut freshpine twigs, as is fitting. I have an ax and a saw and the necessarycrockery. And I have a sleeping bag of sheepskin with the woolinside. I keep a fire burning in the fireplace all night, and myshirt, which hangs by it, smells of fresh resin in the morning.When I want coffee, I go out, fill the kettle with clean snow, andhang it over the fire till the snow turns to water.
Is this a life worth living?
There you have betrayed yourself. This is a life you do notunderstand. Yes, your home is in the city, and you have furnishedit with vanities, with pictures and books; but you have a wife anda servant and a hundred expenses. Asleep or awake you must keeppace with the world and are never at peace. I have peace. You arewelcome to your intellectual pastimes and books and art andnewspapers; welcome, too, to your bars and your whisky that only