ABSTRACT

An excellent Danish philosopher has written a lengthy dissertation on the concept of irony. I admit with modesty that I have not yet read it, since I have only perused and digested very little of the aforesaid author. On the other hand, I enjoyed the great happiness of often walking with him and refreshing myself with his insatiable fount of knowledge and perspicacity. One thing I did discover, that irony is not identical with ridiculousness, mockery or bitterness, but is on the contrary an important element in our spiritual existence-the fortification with alcohol that takes away the sickly sweetness of a wine’s grapes, the jet of cold water that dampens a fever, in short the smile through tears that prevents us from becoming lachrymose. I will not claim that all friends here gathered know me to my inner being, but their acquaintance with me is sufficient to realize that it is more feeling than irony that plays the main role in my life. I and my art belong properly to a sentimental time and direction, I have unceasingly lived in a battle with the external influence of irony; and I will not deny that it has dominated me so much that I have often felt strange and embarrassed in the middle of its atmosphere of self-parody. Today for the first time I have realized its true worth.…It is certain that after our standards I possess too little irony, but that supply which I have been able to collect in so many years of this ingredient will now be to my benefit.…If I should begin to laugh and cry at the same time, then this gathering must admit: Can a man and artist achieve more.1