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Updated: June 15, 2025
On May 20, 1938, E.A. Vennekohl, of the People's Bund for Germans Living Abroad, wrote to Gissibl as follows: Dear Comrade Gissibl: We wrote you yesterday that the 3,000 badges for the singing festival would be sent to you via Orgell; for various reasons we have now divided the badges in ten single packages of which two each went to the following addresses: Friedrich Schlenz, Karl Moeller, Karl Kraenzle, Orgell and two to you.
Within ten minutes he had manoeuvered himself free of Miss Moeller and was searching for Ruth, his nerves quivering amazingly with the fear that she might already have gone. How would he ever find her? He could scarce ask the hostess, "Say, where's Ruth?" She was nowhere in the fog of people in the big room.... If he could find even Olive....
Philip Moeller has achieved distinction in another field, that of elegant burlesque, of sublimated caricature. Moeller's latest contribution to the stage. The author has thrown a very high light on the sentimental adventures of the writing lady of the early Nineteenth Century, has indeed advised us and convinced us that they were somewhat ridiculous.
I was far from feeling that I had been understood, and for that reason warned against extremes; on the contrary, I saw myself only caricatured, without even wit or humour, and could not forget that the man who had sketched this picture of me had done his utmost to injure me. And he compared me with P.L. Moeller!
I halted outside an eating-house in Moeller Street, and sniffed the fresh smell of meat roasting inside; my hand was already upon the door-handle, and I was on the point of entering without any fixed purpose, when I bethought myself in time, and left the spot.
But the internal policy of Denmark had little attraction for me. As soon as I entered the University I felt myself influenced by the spirit of such men as Poul Moeller, J.L. Heiberg, Soeren Kierkegaard, and distinctly removed from the belief in the power of the people which was being preached everywhere at that time.
A rehearsal of them offers only laughter to any one but a sentimental school girl. The piece is conceived on a true literary level; it abounds in wit, in fantasy, in delightful situations, but there is nothing precious about its progress. Mr. Moeller has carefully avoided the traps expressly laid for writers of such plays.
In the main he has relied on his own cleverness to delight our ears for two hours with brilliant conversation. There is, it should be noted, in conclusion, nothing essentially American about either of these young authors. Both Mr. Hopwood and Mr. Moeller might have written for the foreign stage. Several of Mr.
Miss Moeller, want you to meet Mr. Oscar Ericson you know " "S' happy meet you, Miss Mmmmmmm," said Carl, tremendously well-bred in manner. "Can we possibly go over and be clever in a corner, do you think?" He had heard Colonel Haviland say that, but his manner gave it no quotation-marks. Presumably he talked to Miss Moeller about something usual the snow or the party or Owen Johnson's novels.
He had once been apprentice to the widow of Moeller the dyer, when Oehlenschlaeger and the Oersteds used to dine at the house.
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