I also haven't had a chance to re-read Kierkegaard's
book on Adler, but I am too fascinated by Kevin Solway's
excursions on "genius" to defer my comments.

"Genius" is a word with a long and complex philological background;
Grimm's "Woerterbuch der deutschen Sprache" devotes the
equivalent of 104 pages (about 41600 words) to the philological
history of the term "genius" in European languages.

Beginning at least with Socrates' account of his "daimon",
philosophers have tried to present their inward, subjective
experiences as objective phenomena, of which they purport 
to be able to give an accounting to their fellow human beings.

The subjective is denominated "genius" or "daimon" with respect
to the individual; with respect to the cosmos we call it "God".
Giving it a name, conceptualizing the subjective, however, 
bestows on it only virtual, not actual objectivity.

Each one of us is closest to himself. "Ein jeder liebt sich
selbst am meisten," as Lessing said. Hence each one of us
deems himself aware of the spirit within him, deems himself
a "genius", though not all of us have the courage (or the
impudence) so to proclaim ourselves.

"Genius is extremely rare," is a euphemism by means of
which I assert my uniqueness. What it really means is that
the only genius of my experience is myself. I can be convinced
of someone elses genius no more than I can be convinced of someone
elses God. What circumstance could be more natural? what admission,
more truthful?

Given the egocentricity of spirit, our relationships to others
become problematic. The hypothesis of a common deity is the bond that
unites us with all other human beings. That, in my book, is the
essence of ecclesiology. Paradoxically, we conceive of deity as being
both subjective and objective; as being within us, and yet being the
same for all men and women. In uttermost isolation and loneliness I
proclaim: "Credo in unum deum." I believe in _one_ God for all men
and for all creation.

I live at the center of my own universe, and I survive on the
paradoxical assumption that my universe is identical with that 
of others. Or I survive on the obviously unrealistic assumption
that I am the only one, or at any rate that genius is extremely
rare.  Or I survive by learning to love. Goethe's dictum is
equally applicable to ones relationship to his fellow men
and to his God: "Gegen die groszen Vorzuege eines anderen,
gibt es kein Rettungsmittel als die Liebe." (Against the great
virtues of others, there is no defense but love.)

Ernst Meyer