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Book: Sophie's World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy by Jostein Gaarder
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Authors: Jostein Gaarder
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there was a letter ready for this person.
Sophie began right away. It was difficult to write to someone she had never seen. She didn't even know if it was a man or a woman. Or if he or she was old or young. For that matter, the mysterious philosopher could even be someone she already knew. She wrote:
Most respected philosopher, Your generous correspondence course in philosophy is greatly appreciated by us here. But it bothers us not to know who you are. We therefore request you to use your full name. In return we would like to extend our hospitality should you care to corne and have coffee with us, but preferably when my mother is at home. She is at work from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day from Monday to Friday. I am at school during these days, but I am always home by 2:15 p.m., except on Thursdays. I am also very good at making coffee. Thanking you in advance, I remainYour attentive student,Sophie Amundsen (aged 14)
At the bottom of the page she wrote RSVP.
Sophie felt that the letter had turned out much too formal. But it was hard to know which words to choose when writing to a person without a face. She put the letter in a pink envelope and addressed it "To the philosopher."
The problem was where to put it so her mother didn't find it. She would have to wait for her to get home before putting it in the mailbox. And she would also have to remember to look in the mailbox early the next morning before the newspaper arrived. If no new letter came for her this evening or during the night, she would have to take the pink envelope in again.
Why did it all have to be so complicated?
That evening Sophie went up to her room early, even though it was Friday. Her mother tried to tempt her with pizza and a thriller on TV, but Sophie said she was tired and wanted to go to bed and read. While her mother sat watching TV, she sneaked out to the mailbox with her letter.
Her mother was clearly worried. She had started speaking to Sophie in a different tone since the business with the white rabbit and the top hat. Sophie hated to be a worry to her mother, but she just had to go upstairs and keep an eye on the mailbox.
When her mother came up at about eleven o'clock, Sophie was sitting at the window staring down the road.
"You're not still sitting there staring at the mailbox!" she said.
"I can look at whatever I like."
"I really think you must be in love, Sophie. But if he is going to bring you another letter, he certainly won't come in the middle of the night."
Yuck! Sophie loathed all that soppy talk about love. But she had to let her mother go on believing it was true. "Is he the one who told you about the rabbit and the top hat?" her mother asked.
Sophie nodded.
"He--he doesn't do drugs, does he?"
Now Sophie felt really sorry for her mother. She couldn't go on letting her worry this way, although it was completely nutty of her to think that just because someone had a slightly bizarre idea he must be on something. Grownups really were idiotic sometimes.
She said, "Mom, I promise you once and for all I'll never do any of that stuff... and he doesn't either. But he is very interested in philosophy."
"Is he older than you?"
Sophie shook her head.
"The same age?"
Sophie nodded.
"Well, I'm sure he's very sweet, darling. Now I think you should try and get some sleep."
But Sophie stayed sitting by the window for what seemed like hours. At last she could hardly keep her eyes open. It was one o'clock.
She was just about to go to bed when she suddenly caught sight of a shadow emerging from the woods.
Although it was almost dark outside, she could make out the shape of a human figure. It was a man, and Sophie thought he looked quite old. He was certainly not her age! He was wearing a beret of some kind.
She could have sworn he glanced up at the house, but Sophie's light was not on. The man went straight up to the mailbox and dropped a big envelope into it. As he let go of it, he caught sight of
Sophie began right away. It was difficult to write to someone she had never seen. She didn't even know if it was a man or a woman. Or if he or she was old or young. For that matter, the mysterious philosopher could even be someone she already knew. She wrote:
Most respected philosopher, Your generous correspondence course in philosophy is greatly appreciated by us here. But it bothers us not to know who you are. We therefore request you to use your full name. In return we would like to extend our hospitality should you care to corne and have coffee with us, but preferably when my mother is at home. She is at work from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day from Monday to Friday. I am at school during these days, but I am always home by 2:15 p.m., except on Thursdays. I am also very good at making coffee. Thanking you in advance, I remainYour attentive student,Sophie Amundsen (aged 14)
At the bottom of the page she wrote RSVP.
Sophie felt that the letter had turned out much too formal. But it was hard to know which words to choose when writing to a person without a face. She put the letter in a pink envelope and addressed it "To the philosopher."
The problem was where to put it so her mother didn't find it. She would have to wait for her to get home before putting it in the mailbox. And she would also have to remember to look in the mailbox early the next morning before the newspaper arrived. If no new letter came for her this evening or during the night, she would have to take the pink envelope in again.
Why did it all have to be so complicated?
That evening Sophie went up to her room early, even though it was Friday. Her mother tried to tempt her with pizza and a thriller on TV, but Sophie said she was tired and wanted to go to bed and read. While her mother sat watching TV, she sneaked out to the mailbox with her letter.
Her mother was clearly worried. She had started speaking to Sophie in a different tone since the business with the white rabbit and the top hat. Sophie hated to be a worry to her mother, but she just had to go upstairs and keep an eye on the mailbox.
When her mother came up at about eleven o'clock, Sophie was sitting at the window staring down the road.
"You're not still sitting there staring at the mailbox!" she said.
"I can look at whatever I like."
"I really think you must be in love, Sophie. But if he is going to bring you another letter, he certainly won't come in the middle of the night."
Yuck! Sophie loathed all that soppy talk about love. But she had to let her mother go on believing it was true. "Is he the one who told you about the rabbit and the top hat?" her mother asked.
Sophie nodded.
"He--he doesn't do drugs, does he?"
Now Sophie felt really sorry for her mother. She couldn't go on letting her worry this way, although it was completely nutty of her to think that just because someone had a slightly bizarre idea he must be on something. Grownups really were idiotic sometimes.
She said, "Mom, I promise you once and for all I'll never do any of that stuff... and he doesn't either. But he is very interested in philosophy."
"Is he older than you?"
Sophie shook her head.
"The same age?"
Sophie nodded.
"Well, I'm sure he's very sweet, darling. Now I think you should try and get some sleep."
But Sophie stayed sitting by the window for what seemed like hours. At last she could hardly keep her eyes open. It was one o'clock.
She was just about to go to bed when she suddenly caught sight of a shadow emerging from the woods.
Although it was almost dark outside, she could make out the shape of a human figure. It was a man, and Sophie thought he looked quite old. He was certainly not her age! He was wearing a beret of some kind.
She could have sworn he glanced up at the house, but Sophie's light was not on. The man went straight up to the mailbox and dropped a big envelope into it. As he let go of it, he caught sight of
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