"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"
"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."
"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."
week nine is it?
But Kierkegaard's John is too silent, I think, in the imaginary trial. That even the consolation of fatherhood is meaningless without knowing what fatherhood, what filial relationship, is. And how can that be given or witnessed? Terrible as it is? No sacrifice is for the absolute. It is always for the finite reaching-after for another self. For-Me and not For-You. Terror cannot be received. It unfolds in time (as self-referential) as it is sought and lived. ***
"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"
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