Notes on Danish culture

This was one of the first Danish words I learned before coming to Denmark. The person who taught me the word looked at me very earnestly and said “Mark, in Denmark we have this thing called ‘hygge’”. In the most reverend of tones he laid out the concept for me, and like a sorcerer’s apprentice at his master’s feet my mind’s eye swelled with a myriad shimmering impressionist dreams of harmony and contentment in faraway lands.

A "hyggelig" evening

Hygge is a state of comfort, peace and warmth while in the company of loved ones. It represents a great deal of how Danes relate to each other. An agreeable person who exudes good vibes can be described as “hyggelig” (hygge-like). A place can be hyggelig. After a night out with friends, upon meeting again, one would say “Tak for sidst. Det var hyggeligt” (Thanks for the last time. It was hyggeligt). And in the imperative, if you want to wish someone a pleasant time, you can simply say “Hyg dig” (Hyg yourself).

Hygge seems to be more of a nighttime phenomenon. A teenage party in the civic hall, with soft drinks, a spotty DJ playing Aqua and Gypsy Kings, and a battery of white neon tubes glaring down from the ceiling is not hyggeligt. The preferred mode of illumination for creating hygge is the candle. A hyggelig dinner is accompanied by slightly dimmed lightbulbs and two or three candles. If, like me, you develop the idea that the number of candles is directly proportional to the amount of hygge created, you will be sorely mistaken. One night we had guests over, and in my enthusiasm I lit so many candles that my wife had to tell me to tone it down, since we were “not hosting a satanist ritual slaughter”.

In fact, had it been a satanist event, it would have been described as “uhyggeligt” (un-hyggelig). Uhyggelig is not quite the opposite of hyggelig, as with the teenage party; it roughly translates as “creepy”.

However, hygge, as a phenomenon to understand, is as elusive as it is subtle. I am quite sure that if no one had told me about hygge beforehand, I would never have noticed it. I don’t think it is as unique a phenomenon as the Danes make themselves believe it to be. In fact, I think that hygge, as it exists in Denmark, is borne out of the cluelessness that most Danes seem to have where hospitality is concerned. I mentioned earlier how awkward Danes get when you show up at their door unannounced, expecting a cup of tea and a quick chat. The only possible way to see your Danish friends is to plan an event weeks in advance, and in my view this time functions as a kind of hygge gestation period. The hygge needs time to warm up and mature, to get used to the idea of its own existence. Far from being the default Danish state of mind, hygge is rather the antithesis of aloofness and reserve, which much more accurately typifies the Danish character.

Hygge, as a word, also exists in Norway. Actually, it originates there. As a concept, I’m sure it exists in all countries where the long and persistent gloom of winter forces the human imagination to come up with any alternative to the slow descent into inevitable melancholia.

But the Danes have chosen to own the idea, to make an active study of it and turn it into an obsession. Many academic papers have been written on the subject, it is often the subject of lively social debate, and most Danes’ eyes seem to brighten at the mere mention of the word. If you run out of things to say at a party, ask a Dane to explain hygge to you. Not only will you learn a few things; you will also earn a few extra points for showing such interest in their most quintessential social commodity.

In Korea everyone asked me whether my country also had four distinct seasons, as they seemed to believe that their country was unique in this respect. The Chileans were always going on about how imaginative and funny their slang was, and could talk about it all day. South Africans like to ruminate endlessly about their own brand of hospitality and understanding of cultural diversity — again, as if they are the world masters in these matters. For the Danes, all the world needs is a couple of candles (not too many) and a good dose of lukewarm, two-week-old, ready-to-consume Danish hygge.