From REPETITION (1843)

On the quest for actuality (and good coffee).

“I went out to the café where I had gone every day the previous time to enjoy the beverage that, according to the poet’s precept, when it is ‘pure and hot and strong and not misused’, can always stand alongside that to which the poet compares it, namely, friendship. At any rate, I prize coffee. Perhaps the coffee was just as good as last time; one would almost expect it to be, but it was not to my liking.”

Repetition is one of Kierkegaard’s most demanding texts, but it is also full of poetic detail and profound insight. Ascribed to the mysterious pseudonym Constantin Constantius, the book begins as a kind of philosophical detective story: Constantin is fascinated by the tension between the Greek concept of “recollection” (Erindring) and the modern notion of “repetition” (Gjentagelse). Thus he travels to Berlin, where he had previously spent an enjoyable period of time. He wants to see if he can repeat his prior experience, thereby converting what he fondly remembers into an existing actuality. This task may seem easy in theory, but Constantin finds it more than a little difficult. Life just keeps getting in the way. In the passage above, Constantin discovers that not every cup of coffee—even if sipped in the same café at the same time—is exactly the same. There are too many variables, from the lighting in the room to the annoyance of an open window. How much harder, then, to repeat those things in life that really matter? One might fondly remember being in love, but choosing to love in the here and now is something else.