Reviews about J. P. Jacobsen
|
On
Niels Lyhne
|
|
As for the book´s surfeit of reflections, that is a different
matter. Jacobsen is not one of those authors whose skill at visual
presentation quickly brings him to a halt, compelling him to fill in
the gaps with semi-scientific deliberations. On the contrary, he is
endowed with a genuine artistic skill that steers him away from
action and dialogue, an estimable sense of all that is unconscious
and half conscious in our mental lives. Often, as in the little study
of Mrs Boye and her critic lover, he provides us within a couple
of pages with the essence of a whole short story, the most
obscure wells of an erotic relationship, the entire course of an
event, making it as transparent to us as if we ourselves had been
there; and this he does even without letting either of the figures
concerned speak a word or make a movement; he will often
hasten to pass by a catastrophe in order to dwell exclusively on
apparently insignificant everyday impressions which little by little
fill the cup until it cannot but run over; he will often leave the
lovers in order to concentrate on their love, put aside his figures
of sorrows and dreams in order to pursue sorrow and dream
themselves as though they were independent living things. The
almost imperceptible ripples gliding across those incessant
waves that stem from mood, the minute impulses of which we
ourselves are not aware, but which, when constantly repeated,
vary and determine our natures, all these are often dearer to him
than the word or the action in which they result. And no wonder
that it should be so, for with almost unique artistry he is able to
make these things of fluff become tangible, to change this
invisible attribute into a graphic revelation endowed with reality´s
entire play of colour; in this, his books stand comparison with the
best that can be mentioned.
|
|
H.S. Vodskov in Illustreret Tidende, 19.12.1880
|
| |
|
On
Niels Lyhne
|
|
Jens Peter Jacobsen is a distinguished author, a rare figure on
this literary stage of ours which nowadays is so pulsating with
life. His works are few in number, but they are exquisite, and his
place is right at the forefront of younger writers. Four years of
hard work and artistic creation have been invested in each of his
two major works of fiction. Is it now to be as long again before
we next encounter him? It would be interesting for a change to
see the tireless chiseller attempt for once to fashion his block of
marble a little more freely. But henceforth, since he has fulfilled
the promise of Maria Grubbe, he will always be welcome,
always be awaited with longing and followed attentively. In
Niels Lyhne he has taught us that "even the fairest dreams, even
the deepest longings do not add one cubit unto the human spirit",
but dedicated labour in one´s calling and an untried Excelsior
bring both the individual himself and the society to which he
belongs ever a little further forward.
|
|
Otto Borchsenius i Ude og Hjemme, den 9. januar 1881.
|
| |
|
|
