The Annotated Hans Christian Andersen

by Hans Christian Andersen

  The learned man returned home. He wrote books about what was true in the world and what was good and what was beautiful. Days turned into years, and many years went by. Then one evening he was sitting in his parlor and heard a faint knock at the door.

  “Come in,” he said, but no one did. He opened the door and there before him stood a man so extraordinarily thin that it gave him an eerie sensation. The caller was, by the way, dressed faultlessly and was no doubt a distinguished fellow.

  “With whom do I have the honor of speaking?” the learned man asked.

  “Oh,” the distinguished visitor said. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t recognize me now that I’ve put some flesh on my body and have some clothes on. You probably never expected to see me in such fine shape. Can’t you tell that I’m your former shadow? You probably didn’t think I would ever show up again. Everything has gone exceptionally well for me since I last saw you. I’ve become a wealthy man in every way, and, if I have to buy my freedom, I can.” With that, he rattled a bunch of valuable seals hanging from his watch and began to stroke a massive gold chain around his neck. His fingers seemed to glitter from all the diamond rings on them. And the jewelry was all real.

  “I can’t get over it!”12 the learned man said. “What can this all mean?”

  “It’s definitely not something you see every day,” the shadow said. “But then you’re also no ordinary man, and, as you know, I’ve been following in your footsteps since childhood.13 As soon as you thought I was mature enough to go out into the world on my own, I went my way. And now I find myself in splendid circumstances, but a strange longing to see you one last time before you die overcame me. You are going to die, you know! I always wanted to return to this region, because we all love our homeland. I know that you have a new shadow. Do I owe you—or it—anything?14 Please let me know if I do.”

  “Is it really you?” asked the learned man. “This is highly unusual. I would never have imagined a shadow could return as a human being.”

  “Just let me know what I owe,” the shadow said, “because I don’t want to be in anyone’s debt.”

  “How can you talk like that?” the learned man said. “What kind of debt are we talking about? You’re as free as anyone else. I’m just delighted to learn of your good fortune. Sit down, old friend, and tell me how all this came about and what you saw in the house across the street in the hot country.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it,” the shadow said, sitting down. “But you must promise me that if we run into each other in town, you won’t tell a soul that I was once your shadow. I’m considering getting engaged, and I’m wealthy enough to support more than one family.”

  “Don’t worry,” the learned man said. “I won’t tell anyone who you really are. Let’s shake on it. I promise, and a man is as good as his word.”15

  “And a word is as good as its—shadow,” the shadow replied, for that was the only thing it could say.

  It was really quite remarkable how human the shadow had become. It was dressed in black,16 with clothes made from the finest cloth, and it was wearing patent-leather shoes along with a top hat that could be pressed perfectly flat until only brim and top remained, not to mention what we have already seen—those seals, the gold chain, and the diamond rings. Yes, indeed, the shadow was exceptionally well dressed, and that’s just why it appeared to be so human.

  “Well, let me tell you!” the shadow said, stepping down as hard as it could with those new patent-leather shoes on the sleeve of the learned man’s new shadow, which lay like a poodle at his feet. Maybe this was arrogance, but maybe it was just trying to make the new shadow stick to his own feet. The shadow on the floor didn’t move or make a sound.17 It was no doubt listening carefully so that it could learn how to win its freedom and someday become its own master.

  “Do you know who was living in the house across the street?” the shadow said. “She was the most beautiful of all creatures—Poetry herself. I was there for three weeks, and I might as well have been there for three thousand years, reading everything that has ever been written. That’s what I’m telling you, and it’s the truth. I’ve seen everything, and I know everything.”

  “Poetry!”18 the learned man cried. “Oh, yes, yes—she often keeps to herself in the big cities. Poetry! Yes, I saw her myself, for one brief moment, but my eyes were heavy with sleep. She was standing on the balcony, as radiant as the Northern lights. Tell me more! Tell me more! You were up on the balcony. You went through the door, and then—”

  “And then I was standing in the antechamber,” the shadow said. “You used to stare into that room all the time from across the street. There were no candles in there, and the room was in a kind of twilight. But one door after another stood open in a long row of brilliantly lit halls and rooms. The blaze of lights would have killed me if I had gone all the way into the room where the maiden was. I was level-headed and took my time—that’s what you have to do under those circumstances.”

  “And what did you see?” the learned man asked.

  “I saw everything, and I’ll tell you all about it. But—and I’m not saying this to be arrogant—if you take into account that I’m a free man with considerable talents, not to mention my social position and my considerable fortune, it makes sense for you to address me in a more formal manner,19 and I would be grateful for the courtesy.”

  “I beg your pardon, Sir!” the learned man said. “I’m just falling back into an old habit that is hard to change. You’re perfectly right, and I’ll be more careful now. But now, sir, tell me about everything that you saw.”

  “Everything!” the shadow said. “You realize, then, that I saw everything and that I know everything.”

  “What did it look like all the way back?” the learned man asked. “Was it like a green forest?20 Was it like a holy temple? Was it like the starry skies when you stand high up on a mountain?”

  “Everything was there,” the shadow said. “I didn’t go all the way inside, as you know. I stayed in that antechamber in the twilight, but that was the perfect place to be. I saw everything, and I know everything. I have been in the antechamber of Poetry’s court.”

  “But what did you see? Did the ancient gods march through the halls? Were the heroes of times past fighting there? Were sweet children playing there and talking about their dreams?”

  “I’m telling you, I was there, and you have to realize that I saw everything there was to see. Had you come over there, it would not have made a man of you, but it did make a man of me. I learned to understand my innermost nature, what I was born with, and my connection with Poetry.21 Yes, back when I was living with you, I never thought at all about such matters. But you must remember how astonishingly large I became at sunrise and sunset. And the moonlight made me almost more visible than you. I didn’t understand myself at the time, but in that antechamber, I came to know my true nature. I became a man and returned completely transformed. But you were no longer in the hot regions. Being a man, I was ashamed to be seen as I was. I needed boots, clothing, and all the surface polish that makes a person recognizable.

  “I went into hiding—and I’m going to tell you this because I know you won’t put it in a book22—under the skirts of the woman who sells cakes. That woman had no idea how much she was concealing. I didn’t venture out until evening, and then I ran through the streets in the moonlight and stretched myself tall against the walls. It really tickled my back. I ran up and down the streets,23 taking peeks into the highest windows, into parlors and into garrets. I looked in where no one else could look. I saw what no one else could, or should, see.24 If truth be told, it’s a nasty world. I wouldn’t even want to be human except that everyone seems to think that it’s so grand. I saw the most unthinkable things going on between men and women, and between parents and their perfectly darling children.”

  “I saw,” the shadow continued, “what nobody knows but what everyone would like to know, the scandalous behavior next door. If I had written a newspaper
, everyone would have been reading it! Instead I just wrote to the people directly involved, and everywhere I went there was a huge uproar. They were terrified of me, but they also became terribly fond of me. The professors appointed me a professor, and the tailors made me new clothes—in fact, my wardrobe is almost complete. The master of the mint coined new money for me, and women told me that I was quite handsome. And so I became the man I am now. For now I must bid you farewell. Here’s my card. I live on the sunny side of the street, and I am always at home when it rains.” And off he went.

  “That was really strange,” the learned man said.

  Days and years passed, and the shadow called again. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Not so well, I’m afraid,” the learned man said. “I’m still writing about the good, the true, and the beautiful,25 but no one wants to hear about such things. I’m in utter despair, because I take it all personally.”

  “Well, I don’t,” said the shadow. “I’m putting on weight, and that’s what we all should try to do. You don’t understand the ways of the world, and that’s why your health is suffering. You really have to get away. I’m taking a trip this summer. Would you like to join me? I’d enjoy having a traveling companion. Will you come along as my shadow? It would be such a pleasure to have you accompany me, and I’ll even pay all the expenses.”

  “That’s going too far,” the learned man said.

  “It all depends on how you look at it,” said the shadow. “It would do you a world of good to travel. If you promise to be my shadow, the trip won’t cost you a thing.”

  “This has gone far enough!” the learned man declared.

  “But that’s how the world is,” the shadow told him. “And that’s how it will always be.” And off he went.

  Things were not going well at all for the learned man. Misfortune and all kinds of trouble plagued him, and what he had to say about the good, the true, and the beautiful was as appealing to most people as roses are to a cow. In the end, he became quite ill.

  “You look like a shadow of yourself,” people said to him, and the learned man would tremble because it made him stop to think.

  “You really have to spend some time at a spa,” the shadow told him when he came for a return visit. “It isn’t really a matter of choice. I’ll take you with me for old times’ sake. I’ll pay for the trip, and you can write up an account and do your best to amuse me along the way. I need some time at a spa as well, for my whiskers are just not growing out the way they should be. That’s a trial as well, because you can’t get along without a beard. Come now, be reasonable and accept my proposal. We’ll travel together, just like friends!”

  And off they went. The shadow was now the master, and the master was the shadow.26 They drove together; they rode together; they walked together, side by side, in front or in back, depending on where the sun stood in the sky. The shadow made sure that it always took the lead, and the learned man himself didn’t spend much time thinking about it, for he was a kindhearted person, exceedingly amiable and gentle. One day he said to the shadow: “Now that we have become traveling companions and because we have been together since childhood, shouldn’t we call each other by our first names? That would be much more agreeable.”

  “You have a point there,” said the shadow, who was now the true master. “What you say is very candid and tactful, and so I will be equally candid and tactful with you. As a learned man, you are perfectly well aware of how strange human nature can be. Some people cannot bear to touch gray paper—it makes them feel queasy. Others recoil when they hear the sound of a nail scraping against a windowpane. As for me, I have a queasy sensation when I imagine you calling me by my first name. I feel pressed down to the ground just as I was in my former position with you. As you can see, it’s just a feeling—it has nothing at all to do with arrogance. I just can’t let you call me by my first name. But I’m entirely happy to meet you halfway and to call you by yours.”27 And from then on, the shadow called his former master by his first name.

  “This has really gone too far,” the learned man thought. “Now I’m calling him by his last name and he is using my first name.” But he had to put up with it.

  They arrived at last at the spa, where there were many people from foreign lands, among them a beautiful princess. She was suffering from the disease of being able to see too well,28 and that can be highly distressing. She noticed right away that the newcomer was a very different sort of person from all the rest. “They say he is spending time here so that his beard will grow. But the real reason is obvious to me. He can’t cast a shadow.”

  Once her curiosity was aroused, the princess went out for a stroll and struck up a conversation with the stranger. As the daughter of a king, she could come right to the point, and so she said, “Your problem is that you can’t cast a shadow.”

  “Your Royal Highness must have improved considerably!” the shadow replied. “I know that you suffer from seeing things far too clearly. But you are getting over it, and I see that you are just about cured. As a matter of fact, I have a most unusual shadow. Do you see that fellow who is always by my side? Other people have ordinary shadows, but I’m not fond of the ordinary. Some people give their servants finer livery than they themselves wear. In that spirit, I’ve dressed up my shadow as a man. As you can see, I’ve even outfitted him with a shadow of his own. Yes, it’s very expensive, but it’s worth it to have something unique.”

  “What?” the Princess thought to herself. “Can it be true that I’ve recovered? This is the best spa anywhere, and these days the waters are said to have wonderful medicinal powers. But I’m not planning on leaving now, because this place is just starting to become interesting. I’ve taken a liking to that stranger. I just hope that his beard doesn’t start to grow, because then he’ll leave.”

  That evening, the princess and the shadow danced in the grand ballroom. She was light on her feet, but he was even lighter.29 She had never danced with a partner like that. She told him the name of the country she was from, and he knew it well. He had spent some time there, but while she had been away. He had peeked in every window, high and low. He had seen this, and he had seen that. And so he found it easy to talk with the princess and to make references that astonished her. She was convinced that he had to be the wisest man on earth. His knowledge impressed her deeply, and, when they started dancing again, she fell in love with him. The shadow was aware of this, for she was practically looking right through him. Then they danced again, and she came very close to telling him, but she hesitated. She really had to consider her country and her throne, as well as all the people she would rule in her kingdom.

  “He’s a wise man,” she said to herself. “And that’s all to the good. He’s a superb dancer, and that’s also good. But I wonder if he has a deep knowledge of things—that’s just as important. I’ll have to test him.” She began asking more difficult questions, questions she herself could never have answered. The shadow gave her a strange look.

  “You can’t answer my questions?” asked the king’s daughter.

  “They are mere child’s play,” said the shadow. “Even my shadow over there by the door could answer those questions.”

  “Your shadow!” said the princess. “That would be quite remarkable.”

  “I’m not saying for certain,” the shadow said. “But I believe he can, because he has been following me around all these years and paying attention. Yes, I’m inclined to think he can. But if Your Royal Highness will permit, I must explain that he is so proud of being able to pass for human that, if you want to put him in a good mood—and he will have to be in a good mood in order to answer properly—you will have to treat him as if he were a regular human being.”

  “That’s fine with me!” the princess replied.

  And so she walked over to the learned man, who was standing in the doorway. She talked with him about the sun and the moon, and about people, what they are like on the inside as well as on the outside. He answere
d her wisely and well.

  “What a man he must be to have such a wise shadow!”30 she thought. “What a blessing it would be for my people and for my kingdom if I were to marry him. And that’s just what I’m going to do.”

  The princess and the shadow soon came to an understanding, but no one was to know anything until after she had returned to her kingdom.

  “No one. Not even my shadow!” the shadow said. And he had his reasons for saying that.

  They arrived at last in the country where the princess ruled when she was at home.

  “Listen, my good friend,” the shadow said to the learned man. “Now that I am as happy and powerful as anyone can be, I’d like to do something special for you. You can live with me in the castle, drive around with me in the royal carriage, and make a hundred thousand a year. But in return you will have to let everyone call you a shadow, and you can never claim that you were once a human being. Once a year, when I’m sitting on the balcony in the sunshine, you must lie at my feet as shadows do. I am planning on marrying the king’s daughter, and the wedding is to take place tonight.”

  “No! That’s going too far,” said the learned man. “I refuse. I refuse to do it! That would mean betraying the entire country and the princess as well. I’m going to tell everyone the whole story31—that I’m the man and that you are just a shadow dressed up like a man.”

  “No one will believe you,” the shadow said. “Be reasonable, or I’ll call the guards.”

  “I’m going straight to the princess,” the learned man said.

  “But I’ll get there before you,” said the shadow. “And you are going to jail.” And that’s exactly where he went, because the guards decided to obey the man who was going to marry the princess.