I’ve thought a lot about what you said since the last time we saw each other, especially when you asked whether I know what I am doing. Of course, I know; otherwise, I couldn’t do it. You can only do such a thing when you know exactly what you’re getting into. In reality, there’s nothing better than being aware of your own actions because, then, there’s almost nothing that you can’t do—I mean without regretting it afterward and becoming miserable. What we are doing is something everyone does, but most do it without really knowing it because they cannot face it. Alma did it, and Knut has done it several times. Berit probably hasn’t done it yet, but she will eventually, of course. I’m sure that most people regret it afterward and become afraid. But I will never regret it. Besides, I love you too much, and I’m much too aware of what I am doing. We who know what we’re doing are like chess players. We don’t ask the pawns where we should move them. We don’t even have respect for the queens.
You also said that you’re ashamed sometimes. I don’t understand why. We two have nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone who loves as we do is pure, and, until now, I didn’t know what purity was. It is to be so absorbed in a feeling that it burns away all doubts, all cowardice, and all cares within you. You become whole and strong, and you go straight to the goal without hesitation. You become brave, too. To be pure is to be able to sacrifice everything but the one thing you’re living for. I’m prepared to do that, so there’s no need to be ashamed. People like Knut, on the other hand, do need to feel ashamed. What do you think he would sacrifice for his love for you? Nothing! Not one workday, not a single wholehearted act of ruthlessness. And do you think Alma was any less small-minded, or purer? She didn’t even dare to love enough to let her lover come back, not even enough to lie to me.
I don’t want to be petty like them, so petty that everything I touch turns just as small and paltry. I’ve detested them my whole life for it, because they didn’t dare to be pure, because they weren’t daring enough to do anything truly beautiful. When I look at Knut’s life, I’m afraid. I don’t want to degrade him in front of you, but I have to say that it would kill me if I had to live a life like his. What do you think it means for him to live? Nothing but to wake up in the morning, read the paper, drink a cup of coffee, go to work, repair a chair, eat breakfast, repair a table, go home, buy a newspaper, eat dinner, take a nap, listen to the radio, go to the bathroom, tell a story (preferably a filthy one), go out—to the cinema, a bed, or a café and watch a film, undress a woman, or drink a beer—go home, get undressed, snore, wake up again, drink a cup of coffee, read the paper, and go to work. The worst part isn’t that he thinks this is living; the worst part of his life is that he’s satisfied with it. Most appalling is that he thinks this is how it should be, and he can’t understand anyone who thinks differently. Whenever he doesn’t understand something, he says, I’m sorry; I’m just a simple carpenter. And he’s forced to accept that I study literary history and Scandinavian languages. He accepts it not because it makes me intellectually richer, but because he thinks it will give me the chance to live an easier life than he had. Easier but not different. Essentially, he wants to provide me with exactly the same life. Only I should have more expensive underwear, wake up a couple hours later, read a different paper, sit at an instructor’s desk instead of stand at a workbench, eat a better breakfast, eat a more expensive dinner, go to the opera instead of the cinema, have four rooms instead of two, maids and a gramophone. Can’t you see how that disgusts me? My whole life I have searched, more or less consciously, for a way to support myself in a way that is different from his—one that is purer, more reckless, and more exciting. One that demands more, that burns more dangerously, that affords everything but the easy life.
It’s important for me to say this, but above all it’s important for me to say this to you. Why? Because it’s through you that I have the chance to live purely. Now I want to sacrifice everything: my studies, my mourning for Mama, my father’s trust, and my fiancée’s devotion for the only thing I consider worth living for: my love for you.
You’re wondering whether I have tried this before. You ask why I’ve waited so long. I have tried, but I didn’t succeed, and I can tell you why. But first I’ll tell you what I have tried. When I was seventeen, Knut took me with him to a socialist meeting. When the group sang “International,” tears came to my eyes. I thought I had found a boundless and thoroughly overwhelming sense of solidarity and fighting spirit with everyone who was singing. Of course, it was an illusion. My own emotions had made me idealize the whole scene, but I didn’t realize this until much later. The singing continued inside me the whole way home. Then outside the front door, Knut asked me, Do you want to be a socialist like me and Alma? I did become one— but not like them. After all, what do you think they sacrificed for their beliefs? Nothing! They may have gone to a meeting instead of a movie a few evenings, and they subscribed to a different paper from that of our neighbors. On Swedish Flag Day they didn’t buy any flags, but on the first of May they did buy a red May Day flower. This is what they called conviction. I call it dirty fraud against what they said they believed in and against the ones who claimed to share the same convictions. When I told them this, they did not understand. They were just “simple people,” so they didn’t need to understand. But when I started to neglect my schoolwork for my principles, they asked me to think about the future. That’s what I couldn’t understand. Then they told me that everyone has to consider their future and, as a matter of fact, everyone did. Then I realized that they were right. I looked around at everyone who believed like we did and found nobody who was willing to sacrifice everything for his beliefs. Maybe they were willing to sacrifice something for a little while, but when their personal dream of the future came into conflict with their beliefs, they chose the dream. The ones who had the fortune to become officials had it best: they didn’t have to give up their convictions; they may have grown a little cold, but they didn’t need to give them up. Nor did they have to give up their dream of personal happiness, because officials with cold convictions can climb as high as possible. So I quit sacrificing everything for my beliefs because anyone who abandons everything by himself is just stupid.
The other time was when I was drafted. As you know, we were supposed to be prepared to defend democracy. I wanted to do everything I could to defend it, but nobody would let me do it. I once told this to a captain who was a Nazi. Then I got six days of probation for slandering a superior in the office. So I started playing dice, and I lost. I played poker, too, and lost. But it was harmless since I didn’t have a lot to lose. From the office, where we played dice when the master sergeant was outside drinking, we had a view of the real war. Of course, we were happy when the right side won, even if they weren’t as right as I had hoped.