Brev

Astrup, Nikolai til Kinck, Hans E.
1920-09

Transkripsjon:

Tor Martin Leknes

Oversettelse:

Francesca Nichols

Side

  • 1,
  • 2,
  • 3,
  • 4,
  • 5,
  • 6,
  • 7,
  • 8,
  • 9
Transkripsjon
Oversettelse

Brev

Astrup, Nikolai til Kinck, Hans E.
1920-09
Brevs.189-66498, Nasjonalbiblioteket

9 sider

Transkripsjon: Tor Martin Leknes

Oversettelse: Francesca Nichols

Transkripsjon

Kjære Kinck!

Tak for dit kjære brev! – Jeg har

været saa elendig siden jeg kom hjem

fra fjeldet, at jeg ikke har magtet saa

meget som at skrive et svarbrev og takke

dig for all din venlighed, – dú spanderer bare

saa altformeget af din kostbare tid paa

"dette" "úfrúgtbare figentræ".

Dú maa úndskylde mit brev fra sæteren – 

jeg var "rúsande" af fjell-lúften og særlig af

at være helt frisk i hele 14 dage, – og saa

faa tilbringe disse 14 dage i en herlig natúr. –

Stöilsjenterne kom med dit brev om kvelden,

og jeg gik úde hele natten og sværmede i

maaneskinnet, som en forelsket gútúnge

og nöd dit brev op igjen og op igjen, som om

jeg havde en flaske gammel god vin, og da

solen kom, gik jeg hjem i sæterhytten og rablede

ned löst og fast, medens familien sov, – for

dit brev vilde jeg gjerne faa besvaret med en

gang (og faa svaret afsted samme morgen med

sæterjentene). Jeg húsker ikke et ord af, hvad

jeg skrev – men har ahnelse om at det var en

masse dúmheter – og dú maa rigtig úndskylde

mig, – særlig det dú nævner om Maeterlinck

– jeg húsker múligens feil ogsaa, – húsker bare at

Ravensberg og jeg talte engang om "naivisme" og 

i forbindelse dermed om Maeterlinck og "abstrak-

tioner", – eller hvad jeg skal kalde det – og Ravens-

berg nævnte da noget om dit standpúnkt til

Maeterlinck og "naivismen". Jeg forstaar saa godt,

hvad dú siger om "betúkling af motiverne" – i sær

úd fra dit helstöpte standpúnkt til din kúnst,

                             II

men ellers begaar jo alle – baade forfattere og

malere – den synd i vore dage – i allefald malerne, –

det ser úd som om udviklingen (eller kanske moden)

leder ubönhörlig i den retning; – selv de bedste –

som Kandinsky, – der har fjernet ethvert baand

fra sin kúnst, – som kún maler i abstrakte

former – og farver: – sine indre – sjælelige – oplevel-

ser, – selv han omarbeider sine förste indtryk,

for at give dem en dekorativ form – – han

"komponerer dem om" med andre ord; – (for at de

skal svare til stilen i tiden?) – – denne stil der

nú lig en ubönhörlig gúd vil tvinge alt og alle

ind under sig; den har fyldt athmosfæren som

krigens giftige gasarter – man maa indaande den

hvert öieblik, selv om man flygter op i fjeldene.

Ja det var nogen herlige dage der oppe paa sætrene,

og jeg kom mig rigtig godt, – men det varede ikke

2 dage efter hjemkomsten, för jeg var lige elendig

af kvælningsanfaldene: – sitter oppe alle nætter

og kjæmper for livet for at faa lidt lúft og om

dagene er der da kanske anledning at faa sove et par

timer og saa at gaa og drive om som en sövngjænger

træt og fuld af ond samvittighed, fordi man intet

faar gjort eller intet magter, – begynder paa en

stúdie en dag, – og saa gaar der kanske 8 dage

förend jeg er saa pas; at jeg kan faa fortsætte, og

da er det oftest forsent, – der blir ikke sam-

menhæng i arbeidet; – ting som jeg finder næsten

geniale i anlægget, maa jeg stryke 8 dage senere

som úmúlige. Jeg sliter mig út i kampen med

sykdommen, "den onde samvittighed", og dette for-

gjæves arbeide med at naa videre i min kúnst, –

og saa at skaffe det fornödne til familien i

denne forbandede dyrtid – paa ærlig vis, – og saa

at dække paa gammel gjæld, – og saa ikke

mindst kampen med bygden – den har passet

paa i disse sidste 3 aar, fordi den forstod, at jeg var

III

"ned for" – baade paa den ene og anden maade, og

man har samlet rikelig krigsmateriale mod mig.

Jeg har maattet kaste formeget bort af den lille

tid, jeg har været frisk i, til at skrive indlæg og

skaffe frem vidner i en sak, som man nú har

forfúlgt mig med i 3 aar, – jeg har vúndet

saken fra instans til instans, – men man har 

ikke villet give sig, – og har stadig lavet nye

anklagepunkter for at faa saken appeleret videre,

 – men nú har jeg da endelig vúndet saken

for sidste gang, – saa nú maa man begynde

med noget andet, skal man komme mig til-

livs; – men jeg har ogsaa vúndet mange venner

i bygden paa denne sak, og det var mere end

jeg ventede, – og jeg var næsten rört til taarer da

jeg modtok den ene gratulation efter den anden – 

efter sakens údfald – og det endog af folk som

jeg nærmest betragede som mine fiender til da.

Ja man havde endog stiftet et slags "aktieselskab",

som havde forpligtet sig til at betale for mig

den meget store múlkt, som jeg havde faaet,

ifald jeg havde tapt saken – (selv bygdens

lensmand og viceordförer stod i "aktieselskabet") – og

jeg maatte drikke en masse baade daarligt og

godt "heimebrændt", som fölge af sakens heldige

údgang, ja en del velvillige sjæle havde endog

"<faaet> i" et gammelt rödvinslager paa et nedlagt

hotel, – saa her blev et dúndrende rödvinskalas

her paa stranden – jeg fölte mig rent som en barsel-

kjærring, – naar halve bygden kommer med "sengjamat"

efter overstaaet pine. Jeg er altsaa for öieblikket

en meget popúlær mand i bygden, – selv "saksökerne"

har gjort venskabelige tilnærmelser, og jeg er endog

bleven gjort skattefri for et aar – (en tvivlsom ære).

Som dú ser – er her ikke saa lidet af middelalder

endnú her i bygden, – og det ser úd til, at det tager

sig op igjen mere i de senere aar, – saa emisærerne

kan snart pakke kúfferten. – Nei nú har jeg

IIII

plaget dig med en hel del sladder om mit pri-

vate liv, – det var om kunst, jeg gjerne vilde skre-

vet, – men det magter jeg ikke – nú –, det er saa

meget, som piner mig, og som jeg gjerne vilde

raadfört mig med dig om: – tidens kúnstneriske

"sprog" og meget andet – jeg haaber jeg maa faa

træffe dig engang i höst, – jeg har saa ofte heftet

dig væk med únödigt snak, – men det er saa

vanskelig at være concentreret, naar man træffer

en, som man har beúndret nærsagt hele sin leve-

tid – (fra jeg var 13 aar). – Det dú nævner om Krokvik

kan jeg aldrig tro vil hænde, – det er úmuligt for

en, der har smagt frúgterne fra din have at glem-

me den smak; – den gang – jeg talte om – havde han

neppe læst en af dine böker ordentlig igjennem – det

var mangel paa forstaaelse og ikke úvilje hos ham.

Wilh. Krags söde liqúeúr laa ham endnú saa tyk paa

túngen, at han ingen anden smak kúnde kjende.

Med Trygve var det en anden sak – det dú fortalte var

trist at höre og rent uforstaaeligt for mig; – jeg traf

ham förste gang i Dröbak paa et hotel, hvor vi kom

til at dele værelse, – han spúrgte mig da, om jeg

læste noget litheratur – "ja jeg læser næsten bare Kinck",

sa jeg "for han er den eneste nú, som er ægte;" – det

var jo svært banalt sagt, – men Trygve kom bort til

mig og tog sine briller af og saa paa mig med sine únder-

lige öine og sa: "ja han er jagú den eneste som er ægte".

Siden den tid var vi venner, – og han sa ofte til mig:

"Vær ærlig!" vær ægte. "Som Kinck!" – Jeg kan ikke for-

staa andet, end at han blev ödelagt i Bergen múligens; –

– din úægte sön – som han kalder sig – Korsvold altsaa – övede

ikke nogen heldig indflydelse over ham, – den mand,

er jeg kommen efter, er en "plattenslager" helt igjennem; –

jeg har havt mange ubehageligheder for hans skyld; – han

drev nemlig den trafik únder jobbetiden, at han "solgte"

billeder til rigmænd i Bergen – únder foregivende af at

have dem "paa haand" hos mig; – en af kjöberne, som

havde givet K. 2000 kr. for et sligt "fingeret" billede af

mig, – plagede mig med krav i længere tid, og det

hjalp lidet, hvad jeg forklarte; at jeg ikke malte "billeder" i

senere tid – bare gjorde "studier" for min egen udviklings skuld o.s.v. –

Nei nú maa jeg holde op – nú begynder jeg paa veritabel

sladder. – Alle – alle er úægte – det er bare dú som er ægte.

Lev vel og den bedste hilsen fra Engel og din hengivne Astrup

Konvolutt, framside:

Til

Forfatteren

Hr. Hans E. Kinck

Bestúm

Kristiania

Oversettelse

            Dear Kinck!

Thank you for your dear letter! – I have

been so miserable since I returned

from the mountains, that I have not managed as 

much as writing a reply to thank

you for all your kindness, – you offer simply

too much of your precious time to

"this barren fig tree".

You must forgive my letter from the mountain grazing farm – 

I was "intoxicated" by the mountain air and especially because

I had been totally recovered for 14 entire days, – and then

to be able to spend these 14 days in splendid nature. –

The dairymaids delivered your letter in the evening,

and I walked about all night swooning in

the moonlight, like a young boy in love

enjoying your letter over and over again, as though

it were a bottle of good aged wine, and when

the sun came up, I returned to the mountain hut and scrawled

down whatever came to mind, while the family slept, – for

I wished to respond to your letter at 

once (and dispatch the reply the same morning with

the dairymaids). I no longer remember a word of what

I wrote – but have an idea that it was a 

lot of nonsense – and you must truly forgive

me, – especially what you mention about Maeterlinck

– I may in addition remember wrongly, – I remember only that

Ravensberg and I spoke once about "naïve art" and

in this connection about Maeterlinck and "abstrac-

tions", – or whatever I should call it – and Ravens-

berg mentioned at that time something about your viewpoint on

Maeterlinck and "naïve art". I understand very well,

what you mean by "tampering with the motifs" – particularly

based on your integrated view of your art,

                       II

but then again everyone – both writers and

painters – commits that sin nowadays – at least painters, –

it seems that the development (or trend perhaps)

leads relentlessly in that direction; – even the best –

like Kandinsky, – who has removed every tether

from his art, – who paints only in abstract

shapes – and colours: – his inner – spiritual – experi-

ences, – even though he adapts his first impressions,

in order to give them decorative form – – he

"composes them anew" in other words; – (in order that

they may respond to the style of the times?) – – this style that

now like an unrelenting God wishes to force everything and everyone

under his dominion; it fills the atmosphere like

the poisonous gases of war – one is forced to inhale it

every second, even when one flees up to the mountains.

Well those were delightful days up there on the mountain grazing farms,

and I recovered quite well, – but it did not last [more than] 

2 days after my return, before I was just as wretched

from attacks of suffocation: – I sit awake every night

fighting desperately to get some air and during

the day it is possible perhaps to get a couple of hours of

sleep and then to ramble about like a sleepwalker,

tired and with a bad conscience, because one cannot

get anything done or have the strength to do anything, – [I] begin work on a

study one day, – and then perhaps 8 days pass

before I am well enough; so that I can continue, and

then it is often too late, – there is no conti-

nuity in the work; – elements that I think are quite

brilliant in the construction, I am forced to reject as impossible

8 days later. I wear myself out battling with

the illness, "a bad conscience", and this futile

striving to make progress in my art, –

and then to get hold of the necessities of life for the family during

these damned times of inflated prices – in an honest way, – and

to cover old debts, – and not 

least the conflict with the village – it has been 

vigilant for the past 3 years, because it understood that I was

                                       III

"down-and-out" – both in one way and another, and

has accumulated abundant ammunition to use against me.

I have had to waste too much of the little 

time, during which I have been well, writing pleas and

getting hold of witnesses in a lawsuit, that has

pursued me for 3 years, – I have won

the case from court to court, – but they have

not wished to give in, – and have incessantly added new

accusations in order to have the case appealed, 

– but I have finally won the case

for the last time, – so now one will have to try

something else, if one hopes to see my

demise; – but I have won many friends

in the village due to this case, and that was more than

I expected, – and I was nearly moved to tears when

I received one congratulation after the other – 

after the outcome of the case – even from people that

I had nearly considered my foes until then.

They had even established a kind of "foundation",

and had committed themselves to paying

the very large fine, that I would have been given,

had I lost the case – (even the village

bailiff and deputy mayor were included in the "foundation") – and

I had to drink an abundance of both poor and

good quality "moonshine", as a result of the fortunate outcome of

the case, and a number of good-hearted souls had even

"<got> [hold] of" a supply of vintage red wine in a closed

hotel, – so there was a whopping red wine party

here at Stranden [Astruptunet] – I truly felt like a woman in 

confinement, – when half the village arrives with "convalescent food"

once the pain has been surmounted. So for the moment I am

a very popular man in the village, – even "the plaintiffs"

have made cordial approaches, and I have even

been let off paying taxes for a year – (a dubious honour).

As you can see – no small amount of the Middle Ages still

remains here in the village, – and it appears that, precisely that has

increased again in recent years, – so the emissaries

can soon pack their suitcases. – Well, now I have

                                  IIII

bothered you with a great deal of gossip regarding my pri-

vate life, – it was art, I would rather have written

about, – but I do not have the strength – now –, there is so 

much that pains me, and about which I would like

to seek your advice: – the artistic "language"

of our time and much more – I hope that I may

meet you some time in autumn, – I have so often detained

you with unnecessary talk, – but it is so

difficult to remain focused, when one meets

someone, whom one has admired virtually one’s entire

life – (since I was 13 years old). – What you mention about Krokvik

I can hardly believe will happen, – it is impossible for

someone who has tasted the fruit of your garden to for-

get its flavour; – at that time that I spoke about – he had

certainly not read one of your books thoroughly to the end – it

was a lack of understanding and not unwillingness on his part.

Wilh. Krag’s sweet liquor still lay so thick on his

tongue, that he could not taste any other flavour.

With Trygve it was a different matter – what you recounted was

sad to hear and quite incomprehensible to me; – I met

him for the first time in Dröbak at a hotel, where we ended

up sharing a room, – he asked me then if I 

read any literature – "yes I read almost only Kinck",

I said "for he is the only one today who is genuine;" – it

was very tritely put, – but Trygve came over to

me, took off his glasses and looked at me with his peculiar

eyes and said: "yes it is true, he is the only one who is genuine".

Since then we have been friends, – and he often said to me:

"Be truthful!", be genuine, "Like Kinck!" – I cannot but 

believe that he was perhaps destroyed in Bergen; –

– your illegitimate son – as he calls himself – in other words, Korsvold – did

not have a very good influence on him, – that man,

I have since discovered, is an "imposter" through and through; –

I have suffered considerable unpleasantness because of him; – he

conducted [fraudulent] traffic during working hours, by "selling"

pictures to wealthy men in Bergen – under the pretence of 

having them "on hand" at my studio; – one of his buyers, who

had given 2,000 kroner for such a "fictitious" picture by

me, – pestered me at length with demands, and it made

no difference when I explained to him that I did not paint "pictures" at

present – but only made "studies" for the sake of my own progress, etc. –

Well, I must stop here – now that I have begun with out-and-out

gossip. – Everyone – absolutely everyone is false – only you are genuine.

Live well and best regards from Engel and your devoted Astrup

Envelope, front:

To

The Writer

Mr Hans E. Kinck

Bestúm

Kristiania [Oslo]