Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced

Hooray for my good friend insomnia, who decided to visit again tonight. I'll use this opportunity to draft a long-overdue posting on famous Danish exports, inspired by my January trip. Are you familiar with the commercial products of Denmark? Well, there are the pastries, which I can't say enough about. Danes export lots of pork, I'm told. They also export bunches of important Computer Science people, including the creators and co-creators of programming languages such as C++ and C#. Legos are a Danish product; the name "lego" is derived from two Danish words, which translate to something like "play well." And who can forget ye olde viking kings of England? They were from Denmark too.

But you're omitting the most important one: Denmark's export of depressed people. There are so many examples from which to choose. Here is my tribute to the famous depressed people of Denmark:

• Hamlet - Sure, he's fictional... but he's Danish and he's depressed. Given that I studied Hamlet in two different high schools and at least two college classes, I can't skip him.

During my trip I took a tour up to "Hamlet's Castle" (if you're planning to travel there, note that the "Hamlet's Castle" tour gives you 20 minutes at Kronborg Castle and several hours at other castles). The castle was actually a tollbooth and a prison, not a royal residence.

• Ophelia - Fictional too. I suppose she's more crazy than depressed, but what the heck, I'll include her here too.
• Rosencrantz and Guildenstern - These characters from Hamlet actually were based on real people. Real names, at least. Apparently there were lots of Rosenkrantzes and Gyldenstiernes who visited the English royal courts in Shakespeare's time. For what it's worth, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead is one of my all-time favorite plays.
• Viggo Mortensen - He's half Danish. Have you seen his art, music, and poetry? Dark and sullen.
• Hans Christian Andersen - Only Disney thinks fairy tales should have happy endings. Have you read Andersen's real stories? Depressing. Try the original Little Mermaid, or The Little Match Girl! Then again, there's The Princess and the Pea, which was designed to teach girls that it's okay to be high maintenance. Interestingly, I was surprised to find that his fable titled This Fable Is Intended For You really was about me.
• Most importantly: Famous philosopher Søren Kierkegaard - One of the first things I noticed on my trip was that Copenhagen had lots of areas named after him. For instance, he is buried in a place called Assistens Kirkegård. And there are bunches of other kirkegårds around. It didn't take me too long to realize that the word "kirkegård" (which is basically his last name) is actually Danish for "cemetery." Of course the guy was depressed--you would be too if your last name meant "graveyard."

But the main reason I'm including Kierkegaard in the list has to do with my hopeless romantic (though mostly hopeless) side. This famous "father of existentialism" is also famous for his depressing love story. When he was 24 or so he fell in love with Regine Olsen, who was 15 at the time. More than two years later, during some sort of piano recital at her family's home, he confessed his feelings: "Oh! What do I care for music, it's you I want, I have wanted you for two years." And they became engaged. (note: they just don't make men like that anymore, do they?)

But, naturally, this overly analytic philosopher with the last name of "graveyard" decided inexplicably that the relationship could not be. He broke off the engagement--and broke Regine's heart--for reasons still not quite understood. He claimed in his journals that it was due to his "melancholy." She later married, but he never did. According to some source that is cited in Wikipedia (bah, you can find the original source yourself), "it can be argued that no other single woman has been so instrumental in a major philosopher's development as Regine was to Kierkegaard."

The Copenhagen City Museum houses a tiny Kierkegaard exhibit. I had to search a bit before finding the exhibit; it was in a closet-sized space just outside the ballroom, where a modeling shoot was taking place (a story for another day... or never). There I learned the last interesting fact for the evening. One of the items on display was the engagement ring that Kierkegaard had given Regine. Apparently in the tradition of the time, when an engagement was broken off, the gems in the ring would be reset in the shape of a cross. Kierkegaard did so, and wore the former engagement ring for the rest of his life.

I think Kierkegaard's failed romance would make a good movie. Or at least a movie that I would watch. Hmm... that's giving me writing-related ideas...