Ole the tower-keeper

OLETHETOWER-KEEPER

1872

FAIRYTALESOFHANSCHRISTIANANDERSENOLETHETOWER-KEEPERbyHansChristianAndersen"INtheworldit’salwaysgoingupanddown;andnowIcan’tgoupanyhigher!"SosaidOlethetower-keeper."Mostpeoplehavetotryboththeupsandthedowns;and,rightlyconsidered,weallgettobewatchmenatlast,andlookdownuponlifefromaheight."SuchwasthespeechofOle,myfriend,theoldtower-keeper,astrange,talkativeoldfellow,whoseemedtospeakouteverythingthatcameintohishead,andwhoforallthathadmanyaseriousthoughtdeepinhisheart.Yes,hewasthechildofrespectablepeople,andtherewereevensomewhosaidthathewasthesonofaprivycouncillor,orthathemighthavebeen.Hehadstudied,too,andhadbeenassistantteacheranddeputyclerk;butofwhatservicewasallthattohim?Inthosedayshelivedintheclerk’shouse,andwastohaveeverythinginthehouse-tobeatfreequarters,asthesayingis;buthewasstill,sotospeak,afineyounggentleman.Hewantedtohavehisbootscleanedwithpatentblacking,andtheclerkcouldonlyaffordordinarygrease;anduponthatpointtheysplit.Onespokeofstinginess,theotherofvanity,andtheblackingbecametheblackcauseofenmitybetweenthem,andatlasttheyparted.
Thisiswhathedemandedoftheworldingeneral,namely,patentblacking,andhegotnothingbutgrease.Accordingly,heatlastdrewbackfromallmen,andbecameahermit;butthechurchtoweristheonlyplaceinagreatcitywherehermitage,officeandbreadcanbefoundtogether.Sohebetookhimselfupthither,andsmokedhispipeashemadehissolitaryrounds.Helookedupwardanddownward,andhadhisownthoughts,andtoldinhisownwayofwhathereadinbooksandinhimself.Ioftenlenthimbooks-goodbooks;andyoumayknowbythecompanyhekeeps.HelovedneithertheEnglishgovernessnovelsnortheFrenchones,whichhecalledamixtureofemptywindandraisin-stalks:hewantedbiographies,anddescriptionsofthewondersof,theworld.Ivisitedhimatleastonceayear,generallydirectlyafterNewYear’sday,andthenhealwaysspokeofthisandthatwhichthechangeoftheyearhadputintohishead.
Iwilltellthestoryofthreeofthesevisits,andwillreproducehisownwordswheneverIcanrememberthem.

FIRSTVISIT

AmongthebookswhichIhadlatelylentOle,wasonewhichhadgreatlyrejoicedandoccupiedhim.Itwasageologicalbook,containinganaccountoftheboulders."Yes,they’rerareoldfellows,thoseboulders!"hesaid;"andtothinkthatweshouldpassthemwithoutnoticingthem!Andoverthestreetpavement,thepavingstones,thosefragmentsoftheoldestremainsofantiquity,onewalkswithouteverthinkingaboutthem.Ihavedonetheverythingmyself.ButnowIlookrespectfullyateverypaving-stone.Manythanksforthebook!Ithasfilledmewiththought,andhasmademelongtoreadmoreonthesubject.Theromanceoftheearthis,afterall,themostwonderfulofallromances.It’sapityonecan’treadthefirstvolumeofit,becauseitiswritteninalanguagethatwedon’tunderstand.Onemustreadinthedifferentstrata,inthepebble-stones,foreachseparateperiod.Yes,itisaromance,averywonderfulromance,andweallhaveourplaceinit.
Wegropeandferretabout,andyetremainwhereweare;buttheballkeepsturning,withoutemptyingtheoceanoverus;theclodonwhichwemoveabout,holds,anddoesnotletusthrough.Andthenit’sastorythathasbeenactingforthousandsuponthousandsofyearsandisstillgoingon.Mybestthanksforthebookabouttheboulders.
Thosearefellowsindeed!Theycouldtellussomethingworthhearing,iftheyonlyknewhowtotalk.It’sreallyapleasurenowandthentobecomeamerenothing,especiallywhenamanisashighlyplacedasIam.Andthentothinkthatweall,evenwithpatentlacquer,arenothingmorethaninsectsofamomentonthatant-hilltheearth,thoughwemaybeinsectswithstarsandgarters,placesandoffices!Onefeelsquiteanovicebesidethesevenerablemillion-year-oldboulders.OnlastNewYear’seveIwasreadingthebook,andhadlostmyselfinitsocompletely,thatIforgotmyusualNewYear’sdiversion,namely,thewildhunttoAmack.Ah,youdon’tknowwhatthatis!
"Thejourneyofthewitchesonbroomsticksiswellenoughknown-thatjourneyistakenonSt.John’seve,totheBrocken;butwehaveawildjourney,alsowhichisnationalandmodern,andthatisthejourneytoAmackonthenightoftheNewYear.Allindifferentpoetsandpoetesses,musicians,newspaperwriters,andartisticnotabilities,-Imeanthosewhoarenogood,-rideintheNewYear’snightthroughtheairtoAmack.Theysitbackwardsontheirpaintingbrushesorquillpens,forsteelpenswon’tbearthem-they’retoostiff.AsItoldyou,IseethateveryNewYear’snight,andcouldmentionthemajorityoftheridersbyname,butIshouldnotliketodrawtheirenmityuponmyself,fortheydon’tlikepeopletotalkabouttheirridetoAmackonquillpens.I’veakindofniece,whoisafishwife,andwho,asshetellsme,suppliesthreerespectablenewspaperswiththetermsofabuseandvituperationtheyuse,andshehasherselfbeenatAmackasaninvitedguest;butshewascarriedoutthither,forshedoesnotownaquillpen,norcansheride.Shehastoldmeallaboutit.Halfofwhatshesaidisnottrue,buttheotherhalfgivesusinformationenough.Whenshewasoutthere,thefestivitiesbeganwithasong;eachoftheguestshadwrittenhisownsong,andeachonesanghisownsong,forhethoughtthatthebest,anditwasallone,allthesamemelody.Thenthosecamemarchingup,inlittlebands,whoareonlybusywiththeirmouths.
Therewereringingbellsthatrangalternately;andthencamethelittledrummersthatbeattheirtattoointhefamilycircle;andacquaintancewasmadewiththosewhowritewithoutputtingtheirnames,whichheremeansasmuchasusinggreaseinsteadofpatentblacking;andthentherewasthebeadlewithhisboy,andtheboywasworstoff,foringeneralhegetsnonoticetakenofhim;then,too,therewasthegoodstreetsweeperwithhiscart,whoturnsoverthedust-bin,andcallsit’good,verygood,remarkablygood.’Andinthemidstofthepleasurethatwasaffordedbythemeremeetingofthesefolks,thereshotupoutofthegreatdirt-heapatAmackastem,atree,animmenseflower,agreatmushroom,aperfectroof,whichformedasortofwarehousefortheworthycompany,forinithungeverythingtheyhadgiventotheworldduringtheOldYear.Outofthetreepouredsparkslikeflamesoffire;theseweretheideasandthoughts,borrowedfromothers,whichtheyhadused,andwhichnowgotfreeandrushedawaylikesomanyfireworks.Theyplayedat’thestickburns,’andtheyoungpoetsplayedat’heart-burns,’andthewitlingsplayedofftheirjests,andthejestsrolledawaywithathunderingsound,asifemptypotswerebeingshatteredagainstdoors.’Itwasveryamusing!’myniecesaid;infact,shesaidmanythingsthatwereverymaliciousbutveryamusing,butIwon’tmentionthem,foramanmustbegood-natured,andnotacarpingcritic.ButyouwilleasilyperceivethatwhenamanonceknowstherightsofthejourneytoAmack,asIknowthem,it’squitenaturalthatontheNewYear’snightoneshouldlookouttoseethewildchasegoby.IfintheNewYearImisscertainpersonswhousedtobethere,Iamsuretonoticeotherswhoarenewarrivals;butthisyearIomittedtakingmylookattheguests,Ibowledawayontheboulders,rolledbackthroughmillionsofyears,andsawthestonesbreakloosehighupinthenorth,sawthemdriftingaboutonicebergs,longbeforeNoah’sarkwasconstructed,sawthemsinkdowntothebottomofthesea,andre-appearwithasand-bank,withthatonethatpeeredforthfromthefloodandsaid,’ThisshallbeZealand!’Isawthembecomethedwelling-placeofbirdsthatareunknowntous,andthenbecometheseatofwildchiefsofwhomweknownothing,untilwiththeiraxestheycuttheirRunicsignsintoafewofthesestones,whichthencameintothecalendaroftime.Butasforme,Ihadgonequitebeyondalllapseoftime,andhadbecomeacipherandanothing.Thenthreeorfourbeautifulfallingstarscamedown,whichclearedtheair,andgavemythoughtsanotherdirection.Youknowwhatafallingstaris,doyounot?Thelearnedmenarenotatallclearaboutit.Ihavemyownideasaboutshootingstars,asthecommonpeopleinmanypartscallthem,andmyideaisthis:Howoftenaresilentthanksgivingsofferedupforonewhohasdoneagoodandnobleaction!
Thethanksareoftenspeechless,buttheyarenotlostforallthat.Ithinkthesethanksarecaughtup,andthesunbeamsbringthesilent,hiddenthankfulnessovertheheadofthebenefactor;andifitbeawholepeoplethathasbeenexpressingitsgratitudethroughalonglapseoftime,thethankfulnessappearsasanosegayofflowers,andatlengthfallsintheformofashootingstaroverthegoodman’sgrave.IamalwaysverymuchpleasedwhenIseeashootingstar,especiallyintheNewYear’snight,andthenfindoutforwhomthegiftofgratitudewasintended.Latelyagleamingstarfellinthesouthwest,asatributeofthanksgivingtomany-many!’Forwhomwasthatstarintended?’thoughtI.Itfell,nodoubt,onthehillbytheBayofPlensberg,wheretheDanebrogwavesoverthegravesofSchleppegrell,Lasloes,andtheircomrades.Onestaralsofellinthemidstoftheland,felluponSoro,afloweronthegraveofHolberg,thethanksoftheyearfromagreatmany-thanksforhischarmingplays!"Itisagreatandpleasantthoughttoknowthatashootingstarfallsuponourgraves.Onminecertainlynonewillfall-nosunbeambringsthankstome,forherethereisnothingworthyofthanks.Ishallnotgetthepatentlacquer,"saidOle,"formyfateonearthisonlygrease,afterall."

SECONDVISIT

ItwasNewYear’sday,andIwentuponthetower.OlespokeofthetoaststhatweredrunkonthetransitionfromtheOldYearintotheNew-fromonegraveintotheother,ashesaid.Andhetoldmeastoryabouttheglasses,andthisstoryhadaverydeepmeaning.Itwasthis:"WhenontheNewYear’snighttheclockstrikestwelve,thepeopleatthetableriseupwithfullglassesintheirhands,anddraintheseglasses,anddrinksuccesstotheNewYear.Theybegintheyearwiththeglassintheirhands;thatisagoodbeginningfordrunkards.TheybegintheNewYearbygoingtobed,andthat’sagoodbeginningfordrones.SleepissuretoplayagreatpartintheNewYear,andtheglasslikewise.Doyouknowwhatdwellsintheglass?"askedOle."Iwilltellyou.Theredwellintheglass,first,health,andthenpleasure,thenthemostcompletesensualdelight;andmisfortuneandthebitterestwoedwellintheglassalso.Now,supposewecounttheglasses-ofcourseIcountthedifferentdegreesintheglassesfordifferentpeople."Yousee,thefirstglass,that’stheglassofhealth,andinthattheherbofhealthisfoundgrowing.Putituponthebeamintheceiling,andattheendoftheyearyoumaybesittinginthearborofhealth.
"Ifyoutakethesecondglass-fromthisalittlebirdsoarsupward,twitteringinguilelesscheerfulness,sothatamanmaylistentohissong,andperhapsjoinin’Fairislife!nodowncastlooks!Takecourage,andmarchonward!’"Outofthethirdglassrisesalittlewingedurchin,whocannotcertainlybecalledanangelchild,forthereisgoblinbloodinhisveins,andhehasthespiritofagoblin-notwishingtohurtorharmyou,indeed,butveryreadytoplayofftricksuponyou.He’llsitatyourearandwhispermerrythoughtstoyou;he’llcreepintoyourheartandwarmyou,sothatyougrowverymerry,andbecomeawit,sofarasthewitsoftheotherscanjudge.
"Inthefourthglassisneitherherb,bird,norurchin.Inthatglassisthepausedrawnbyreason,andonemaynevergobeyondthatsign."Takethefifthglass,andyouwillweepatyourself,youwillfeelsuchadeepemotion;oritwillaffectyouinadifferentway.
OutoftheglasstherewillspringwithabangPrinceCarnival,ninetimesandextravagantlymerry.He’lldrawyouawaywithhim;you’llforgetyourdignity,ifyouhaveany,andyou’llforgetmorethanyoushouldoroughttoforget.Allisdance,songandsound:themaskswillcarryyouawaywiththem,andthedaughtersofvanity,cladinsilkandsatin,willcomewithloosehairandalluringcharms;buttearyourselfawayifyoucan!
"Thesixthglass!Yes,inthatglasssitsademon,intheformofalittle,welldressed,attractiveandveryfascinatingman,whothoroughlyunderstandsyou,agreeswithyouineverything,andbecomesquiteasecondselftoyou.Hehasalanternwithhim,togiveyoulightasheaccompaniesyouhome.Thereisanoldlegendaboutasaintwhowasallowedtochooseoneofthesevendeadlysins,andwhoaccordinglychosedrunkenness,whichappearedtohimtheleast,butwhichledhimtocommitalltheothersix.Theman’sbloodismingledwiththatofthedemon.Itisthesixthglass,andwiththatthegermofallevilshootsupwithinus;andeachonegrowsupwithastrengthlikethatofthegrainsofmustard-seed,andshootsupintoatree,andspreadsoverthewholeworld:andmostpeoplehavenochoicebuttogointotheoven,tobere-castinanewform.
"That’sthehistoryoftheglasses,"saidthetower-keeperOle,"anditcanbetoldwithlacqueroronlywithgrease;butIgiveityouwithboth!"

THIRDVISIT

OnthisoccasionIchosethegeneral"moving-day"formyvisittoOle,foronthatdayitisanythingbutagreeabledowninthestreetsinthetown;fortheyarefullofsweepings,shreds,andremnantsofallsorts,tosaynothingofthecast-offrubbishinwhichonehastowadeabout.ButthistimeIhappenedtoseetwochildrenplayinginthiswildernessofsweepings.Theywereplayingat"goingtobed,"fortheoccasionseemedespeciallyfavorableforthissport.Theycreptunderthestraw,anddrewanoldbitofraggedcurtainoverthemselvesbywayofcoverlet."Itwassplendid!"theysaid;butitwasalittletoostrongforme,andbesides,IwasobligedtomountuponmyvisittoOle.
"It’smoving-daytoday,"hesaid;"streetsandhousesarelikeadust-bin-alargedust-bin;butI’mcontentwithacartload.Imaygetsomethinggoodoutofthat,andIreallydidgetsomethinggoodoutofitonce.ShortlyafterChristmasIwasgoingupthestreet;itwasroughweather,wetanddirty-therightkindofweathertocatchcoldin.Thedustmanwastherewithhiscart,whichwasfull,andlookedlikeasampleofstreetsonmoving-day.Atthebackofthecartstoodafirtree,quitegreenstill,andwithtinselonitstwigs;ithadbeenusedonChristmaseve,andnowitwasthrownoutintothestreet,andthedustmanhadstooditupatthebackofhiscart.Itwasdrolltolookat,oryoumaysayitwasmournful-alldependsonwhatyouthinkofwhenyouseeit;andIthoughtaboutit,andthoughtthisandthatofmanythingsthatwereinthecart:orImighthavedoneso,andthatcomestothesamething.Therewasanoldlady’sglove,too:Iwonderwhatthatwasthinkingof?ShallItellyou?Theglovewaslyingthere,pointingwithitslittlefingeratthetree.’I’msorryforthetree,’itthought;’andIwasalsoatthefeast,wherethechandeliersglittered.Mylifewas,sotospeak,aballnight-apressureofthehand,andIburst!Mymemorykeepsdwellinguponthat,andIhavereallynothingelsetolivefor!’
Thisiswhattheglovethought,orwhatitmighthavethought.’That’sastupidaffairwithyonderfirtree,’saidthepotsherds.Yousee,potsherdsthinkeverythingisstupid.’Whenoneisinthedust-cart,’theysaid,’oneoughtnottogiveone’sselfairsandweartinsel.IknowthatIhavebeenusefulintheworld-farmoreusefulthansuchagreenstick.’Thiswasaviewthatmightbetaken,andIdon’tthinkitquiteapeculiarone;butforallthat,thefirtreelookedverywell:itwaslikealittlepoetryinthedust-heap;andtrulythereisdustenoughinthestreetsonmoving-day.Thewayisdifficultandtroublesomethen,andIfeelobligedtorunawayoutoftheconfusion;or,ifIamonthetower,Istaythereandlookdown,anditisamusingenough.
"Therearethegoodpeoplebelow,playingat’changinghouses.’Theytoilandtugawaywiththeirgoodsandchattels,andthehouseholdgoblinsitsinanoldtubandmoveswiththem.Allthelittlegriefsofthelodgingandthefamily,andtherealcaresandsorrows,movewiththemoutoftheolddwellingintothenew;andwhatgainisthereforthemorforusinthewholeaffair?Yes,therewaswrittenlongagothegoodoldmaxim:’Thinkonthegreatmoving-dayofdeath!’Thatisaseriousthought.IhopeitisnotdisagreeabletoyouthatIshouldhavetoucheduponit?Deathisthemostcertainmessenger,afterall,inspiteofhisvariousoccupations.Yes,Deathistheomnibusconductor,andheisthepassportwriter,andhecountersignsourservice-book,andheisdirectorofthesavingsbankoflife.Doyouunderstandme?Allthedeedsofourlife,thegreatandthelittlealike,weputintothissavingsbank;andwhenDeathcallswithhisomnibus,andwehavetostepin,anddrivewithhimintothelandofeternity,thenonthefrontierhegivesusourservice-bookasapass.Asaprovisionforthejourney,hetakesthisorthatgooddeedwehavedone,andletsitaccompanyus;andthismaybeverypleasantorveryterrific.Nobodyhaseverescapedtheomnibusjourney.Thereiscertainlyatalkaboutonewhowasnotallowedtogo-theycallhimtheWanderingJew:hehastoridebehindtheomnibus.Ifhehadbeenallowedtogetin,hewouldhaveescapedtheclutchesofthepoets.
"Justcastyourmind’seyeintothatgreatomnibus.Thesocietyismixed,forkingandbeggar,geniusandidiot,sitsidebyside.Theymustgowithouttheirpropertyandmoney;theyhaveonlytheservice-bookandthegiftoutofthesavingsbankwiththem.Butwhichofourdeedsisselectedandgiventous?Perhapsquitealittleone,onethatwehaveforgotten,butwhichhasbeenrecorded-smallasapea,butthepeacansendoutabloomingshoot.Thepoorbumpkinwhosatonalowstoolinthecorner,andwasjeeredatandflouted,willperhapshavehisworn-outstoolgivenhimasaprovision;andthestoolmaybecomealitterinthelandofeternity,andriseupthenasathrone,gleaminglikegoldandbloomingasanarbor.Hewhoalwaysloungedabout,anddrankthespiceddraughtofpleasure,thathemightforgetthewildthingshehaddonehere,willhavehisbarrelgiventohimonthejourney,andwillhavetodrinkfromitastheygoon;andthedrinkisbrightandclear,sothatthethoughtsremainpure,andallgoodandnoblefeelingsareawakened,andheseesandfeelswhatinlifehecouldnotorwouldnotsee;andthenhehaswithinhimthepunishment,thegnawingworm,whichwillnotdiethroughtimeincalculable.Ifontheglassestherestoodwritten’oblivion,’onthebarrel’remembrance’isinscribed.
"WhenIreadagoodbook,anhistoricalwork,IalwaysthinkatlastofthepoetryofwhatIamreading,andoftheomnibusofdeath,andwonder,whichofthehero’sdeedsDeathtookoutofthesavingsbankforhim,andwhatprovisionshegotonthejourneyintoeternity.TherewasonceaFrenchking-Ihaveforgottenhisname,forthenamesofgoodpeoplearesometimesforgotten,evenbyme,butitwillcomebacksomeday;-therewasakingwho,duringafamine,becamethebenefactorofhispeople;andthepeopleraiseduptohismemoryamonumentofsnow,withtheinscription,’Quickerthanthismeltsdidstthoubringhelp!’IfancythatDeath,lookingbackuponthemonument,gavehimasinglesnow-flakeasprovision,asnow-flakethatnevermelts,andthisflakefloatedoverhisroyalhead,likeawhitebutterfly,intothelandofeternity.Thus,too,therewasLouisXI.Ihaverememberedhisname,foronerememberswhatisbad-atraitofhimoftencomesintomythoughts,andIwishonecouldsaythestoryisnottrue.Hehadhislordhighconstableexecuted,andhecouldexecutehim,rightorwrong;buthehadtheinnocentchildrenoftheconstable,onesevenandtheothereightyearsold,placedunderthescaffoldsothatthewarmbloodoftheirfatherspurtedoverthem,andthenhehadthemsenttotheBastille,andshutupinironcages,wherenotevenacoverletwasgiventhemtoprotectthemfromthecold.AndKingLouissenttheexecutionertothemeveryweek,andhadatoothpulledoutoftheheadofeach,thattheymightnotbetoocomfortable;andtheelderoftheboyssaid,’Mymotherwoulddieofgriefifsheknewthatmyyoungerbrotherhadtosuffersocruelly;thereforepullouttwoofmyteeth,andsparehim.’Thetearscameintothehangman’seyes,buttheking’swillwasstrongerthanthetears;andeveryweektwolittleteethwerebroughttohimonasilverplate;hehaddemandedthem,andhehadthem.IfancythatDeathtookthesetwoteethoutofthesavingsbankoflife,andgavethemtoLouisXI,tocarrywithhimonthegreatjourneyintothelandofimmortality;theyflybeforehimliketwoflamesoffire;theyshineandburn,andtheybitehim,theinnocentchildren’steeth.
"Yes,that’saseriousjourney,theomnibusrideonthegreatmoving-day!Andwhenisittobeundertaken?That’sjusttheseriouspartofit.Anyday,anyhour,anyminute,theomnibusmaydrawup.WhichofourdeedswillDeathtakeoutofthesavingsbank,andgivetousasprovision?Letusthinkofthemoving-daythatisnotmarkedinthecalendar."

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