Jostein Gaarder - Sophie's World - A Novel About the History of Philosophy

“Suppose we smash into another car?”

“It makes no difference if it’s just an ordinary car. But if it’s one of our own . . .”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll have to be very careful. Didn’t you notice that we passed the Bat Mobile.”

“No.”

“It was parked somewhere up in Vestfold.”

“This tourist bus won’t be easy to pass. There are dense woods on each side of the road.”

“It makes no difference, Sophie. Can’t you get it into your head?”

So saying, he swung the car into the woods and drove straight through the trees.

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.

“You scared me.”

“We wouldn’t feel it if we drove into a brick wall.”

“That only means we’re spirits of the air compared to our surroundings.”

“No, now you’re putting the cart before the horse. It is the reality around us that’s an airy adventure to us.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Listen carefully, then. It is a widespread misunderstanding that spirit is a thing that is more ‘airy’ than vapor. On the contrary. Spirit is more solid than ice.”

“That never occurred to me.”

“And now I’ll tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a man who didn’t believe in angels. One day, while he was out working in the woods, he was visited by an angel.”

“And?”

“They walked together for a while. Then the man turned to the angel and said, ‘All right, now I have to admit that angels exist. But you don’t exist in reality, like us.”What do you mean by that?’ asked the angel. So the man answered, ‘When we came to that big rock, I had to go around it, but I noticed that you just glided through it. And when we came to that huge log that lay across the path, I had to climb over it while you walked straight through it.’ The angel was very surprised, and said ‘Didn’t you also notice that we took a path that led through a marsh? We both walked right through the mist. That was because we were more solid than the mist.’

“Ah.”

“It’s the same with us, Sophie. Spirit can pass through steel doors. No tanks or bombers can crush anything that is of spirit.”

“That’s a comfort.”

“We’ll soon be passing Ris0r, and it’s no more than an hour since we left the major’s cabin. I could really use a cup of coffee.”

When they got to Fiane, just before S0ndeled, they passed a cafeteria on the lefthand side of the road. It was called Cinderella. Alberto swung the car around and parked on the grass in front of it.

Inside, Sophie tried to take a bottle of Coke from the cooler, but she couldn’t lift it. It seemed to be stuck. Further down the counter, Alberto was trying to tap coffee into a paper cup he had found in the car. He only had to press a lever, but even by exerting all his strength he could not press it down.

This made him so mad that he turned to the cafeteria guests and asked for help. When no one reacted, he shouted so loudly that Sophie had to cover her ears: “I want some coffee!”

His anger soon evaporated, and he doubled up with laughter. They were about to turn around and leave when an old woman got up from her chair and came toward them.

She was wearing a garish red skirt, an ice-blue cardigan, and a white kerchief round her head. She seemed more sharply defined than anything else in the little cafeteria.

She went up to Alberto and said, “My my, how you do yell, my boy!”

“Excuse me.”

“You want some coffee, you said?”

“Yes, but. . .”

“We have a small establishment close by.”

They followed the old woman out of the cafeteria and down a path behind it. While they walked, she said, “You are new in these parts?”

“We might as well admit it,” answered Alberto.

“That’s all right. Welcome to eternity then, children.”

“And you?”

“I’m out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. That was nearly two hundred years ago. And where are you from?”

“We’re out of a book on philosophy. I am the philosophy teacher and this is my student, Sophie.”

“Hee hee! That’s a new one!”

They came through the trees to a small clearing where there were several cozy-looking brown cottages. A large Midsummer bonfire was burning in a yard between the cottages, and around the bonfire danced a crowd of colorful figures. Sophie recognized many of them. There were Snow White and some of the seven dwarfs, Mary Poppins and Sherlock Holmes, Peter Pan and Pippi Longstocking, Little Red Ridinghood and Cinderella. A lot of familiar figures without names had also gathered around the bonfire—there were gnomes and elves, fauns and witches, angels and imps. Sophie also caught sight of a real live troll.

“What a lot of noise!” exclaimed Alberto.

“That’s because it’s Midsummer,” said the old woman. “We haven’t had a gathering like this since Valborg’s Eve. That was when we were in Germany. I’m only here on a short visit. Was it coffee you wanted?”

“Yes, please.”

Not until now did Sophie notice that all the buildings were made out of gingerbread, candy, and sugar icing. Several of the figures were eating directly off the facades. A baker was going around repairing the damage as it occurred. Sophie ventured to take a little bite off one corner. It tasted sweeter and better than anything she had ever tasted before.

Presently the old woman returned with a cup of coffee.

“Thank you very much indeed.”

“And what are the visitors going to pay for the coffee?”

“To pay?”

“We usually pay with a story. For coffee, an old wives’ tale will suffice.”

“We could tell the whole incredible story of humanity,” said Alberto, “but unfortunately we are in a hurry. Can we come back and pay some other day?”

“Of course. And why are you in a hurry?”

Alberto explained their errand, and the old woman commented:

“I must say, you certainly are a pair of greenhorns. You’d better hurry up and cut the umbilical cord to your mortal progenitor. We no longer need their world. We belong to the invisible people.”

Alberto and Sophie hurried back to the Cinderella cafeteria and the red convertible. Right next to the car a busy mother was helping her little boy to pee.

Racing along and taking shortcuts, they soon arrived in Lillesand.

SK 876 from Copenhagen touched down at Kjevik on schedule at 9:35 p.m. While the plane was taxied out to the runway in Copenhagen, the.major had opened the envelope hanging from the check-in desk. The note inside read:

To Major Knag, as he hands over his boarding pass at Kastrup on Midsummer Eve, 1990. Dear Dad, You probably thought I would turn up in Copenhagen. But my control over your movements is more ingenious than that. I can see you wherever you are, Dad. The fact is, I have been to visit a well-known Gypsy family which many, many years ago sold a magic brass mirror to Great-grandmother. I have also gotten myself a crystal ball. At this very moment, I can see that you have just sat down in your seat. May I remind you to fasten your seat belt and keep the back of your seat raised to an upright position until the Fasten Seat Belt sign has been switched off. As soon as the plane is in flight, you can lower the seat back and give yourself a well-earned rest. You will need to be rested when you get home. The weather in Lillesand is perfect, but the temperature is a few degrees lower than in Lebanon. I wish you a pleasant flight. Love, your own witch-daughter, Queen of the Mirror and the Highest Protector of Irony.

Albert could not quite make out whether he was angry or merely tired and resigned. Then he started laughing. He laughed so loudly that his fellow passengers turned to stare at him. Then the plane took off.