Adam White recounts Hans Christian Andersen’s ill-fated friendship with Charles Dickens to shed light on the author’s lifelong sense of otherness.
Beloved author Hans Christian Andersen needs little introduction - especially in a publication aimed at the creative writing types that prowl UCD’s campus. But for the sake of proper structure, I shall do so anyways. Andersen was born in Denmark, 1805, into poverty and had taken to the arts at a young age. Writing, however, was not his original vocation of choice but
rather stage performance. Initially seeking to become an actor and opera singer, Andersen was accepted into the Royal Danish Theatre with aspirations of becoming a soprano, however his voice soon changed and was allegedly mocked for his lanky appearance and large nose. Encouraged by his colleagues, Andersen decided to focus on writing.
Andersen’s stint at the Royal Danish Theatre is his life in microcosm, to want something desperately and be denied it anyways. Andersen’s writing often takes the viewpoint of the “other”, an outsider of society through no fault of their own. Perhaps most obviously in “The Ugly Duckling”, but also within “The Little Mermaid” which displays how being an “other” deprives one of love. Though he would ultimately never marry and die a virgin, Andersen often pined for women and also men such as Edvard Collin, much like the little mermaid herself. Perhaps most famous was his infatuation with Charles Dickens.
Andersen had been a fan of Dickens for quite some time before they encountered each other at a party in 1847 and was supposedly ecstatic to meet, as he put it upon introducing himself to Dickens, “the greatest writer of our time”. Seemingly, Andersen made a good impression on Dickens as both men exchanged letters for the next nine years (To be expected, much more were sent on Andersen’s end.) and in 1857 he wrote to Dickens that he was staying in England for a fortnight and wanted to take up a previous offer Charles had made to stay with him and his family if he ever found himself in London. “My visit is intended for you alone . . . Above all, always leave me a small corner in your heart,” wrote Andersen.
He stayed for five weeks.
Andersen wasted no time in ruining his reputation among the Dickens family. On the first morning of his stay, he insisted it was a Danish custom to have one of the hosts' sons shave their guests every day. Perhaps disturbed, Dickens arranged daily appointments at a local barber instead. In another instance while at dinner Dickens had held out his arm for one of the ladies present, Andersen seized it for himself and walked arm-in-arm with Dickens into the dining hall. Furthermore, staying true to the poet stereotypes, Andersen was incredibly sensitive and prone to burst out into tears in public. Such as when, upon receiving a negative review, Andersen proceeded to lie down in Dickens’ garden and weep. Another public outburst of tears occurred while watching Dickens perform in the play “The Frozen Deep” (with Queen Victoria in the audience) and a final time for good measure upon his departure from the household. Coupled with his general awkwardness and poor grasp of English, Andersen failed to find favour with the Dickens family. “Summed up by Charles who wrote on the mirror in his guest bedroom after he had left: ‘Hans Andersen slept in this room for five weeks — which seemed to the family AGES!’”
It is easy to find the humour in these events, the eccentric but well-meaning guest with strange demands would not be out of place in the countless hacky sitcoms that most of us are familiar with. Our instinct to apply narratives learned via art upon real life might make us hope that Dickens would view Andersen this way, as a peculiar but passionate and ultimately harmless man, but alas he did not. Upon Andersen’s departure Dickens sent a letter to him, its icy tone making it clear that this would be his last. Maybe this was shocking to Andersen, but probably not - he was used to being an outsider since childhood and was painfully aware of his awkward tendencies. After he had left Andersen sent a note to Dickens imploring him to “Kindly forget . . . the unfavorable aspect which our life together may have shown you of me.”
His awareness of his odd appearance and personality making him an “Other” by the standards of 19th century society, as mentioned, are on full display in works such as “The Ugly Duckling” and “The Little Mermaid”, which encapsulate the feelings of isolation due to an inherent aspect of your being or standing within society, and the desperate want to love and be loved, but to be continually rejected, again, for parts of yourself outside of your control. It is not hard to see why Hans often wrote from this perspective. The countless articles about this topic often frame it in a comedic tone. Perhaps when looking at Andersen’s life as a whole we can reinterpret these events from a place of empathy, perhaps it’s just easier to laugh than to sympathise.