Journal — Literature
Visit to Godenholm
Field notes · July 15, 2018
A passage from Ernst Jünger's 1952 novella, on watching incense smoke become something closer to vision than scent.

AntanO, Incense stick, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
“The light began to crackle; a blue thread rose from the edge of the candlestick. I looked at it first with astonishment, then with delight, as if a new force of the eye had come to me. In it the games of this honey-scented smoke revealed themselves, rising on a slender stem and then ramifying in a delicate crown. It was as if my imagination had created it – a pale web of sea lilies in the depths barely trembling from the surf. (…) Now a breath of air hit the vision and smoothly turned it around the axis like a dancer. (…) The rays and lattices of the miracle flower swung into new levels, into new fields. Myriads of molecules bowed to harmony. Here all laws no longer worked under the veil of appearance; the substance was so ethereal that it could mirror them openly. How easy and compelling this all was. The numbers, measures and weights freely emerged from matter. They threw off the robes. (…) This corresponds to intuitions in which areas are revealed, where otherwise only music advances – to the weightless zone between sensible and spiritual reality. (…)”
Ernst Jünger, Visit to Godenholm, 1952

The passage exists in Jünger's own German, quoted here in the original alongside the English above.

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