Chapter III: of "The Artistic Aims of Wagner" (page 193), and apply (2)

At this moment Parsifal, accompanied by Gurnemanz and Kundry, advances. Parsifal says solemnly that but one weapon will suffice, the spear which made the wound. With it he touches Amfortas's side, and the wound is healed. Parsifal declares the identity of the spear and holds it aloft, while all gaze upon it in rapture. Parsifal commands the pages to uncover the Grail, which he takes out and swings gently before the kneeling knights. Kundry sinks expiring to the floor. Gurnemanz and Amfortas kneel in homage to Parsifal, while from the dome above voices are heard singing, "O heavenly mercy's marvel, redemption to the redeemer!"

No other drama of Wagner shows wider departures from the original material or more condensation of it than this, the last of his works. Here, as in other dramas, he has not rested upon any one foundation, but, using the story of Wolfram as his chief guide, he has selected from other versions of the Grail legend such ideas as were in harmony with his own poetic purpose. Thus he discards Wolfram's conception of the Grail as a stone from the crown of Lucifer and goes back to the Provençal idea of it as the vessel in which Joseph of Arimathea, the rich man who bought the body of Christ from Pilate, received the precious blood from the wounds. From Wolfram he took the idea that the knights who dwell in Monsalvat, and who went forth to aid the needy in distress (as in "Lohengrin"), were fed and strengthened by the Grail itself. The significance of the bleeding spear he obtained from Chrétien de Troyes. Wolfram, it will be remembered, made it simply a poisoned lance, with which an unknown pagan, in the strife for the Grail, had wounded Amfortas. Chrétien described it as the spear with which Longinus had pierced the side of the crucified Saviour. This idea could not fail to attract Wagner, for it gave him an opportunity to strengthen the ethical basis of his drama. Amfortas, yielding to the seductions of Kundry, the temptress, becomes the prey of the powers of evil, represented by Klingsor, is robbed of the sacred lance, and wounded with it. Such a wound is more than physical; it is a mortal hurt of the soul. The cure comes only through the touch of the spear itself in the hands of one who is pure. The wounded King exists in all the versions of the legend, and is always to be made whole by the expected knight, who is to ask the essential question.

But in Wagner's version the question is not asked. It has no dramatic value. As Wolzogen has well noted, for an audience a visible and symbolic act is far more effective; and so, instead of hearing Parsifal say, as in Wolfram's epic, "What ails thee, uncle?" we see him touch the wound with the spear and bid Amfortas "be whole, forgiven, and absolved." By this simple change of the original story the conclusion of the drama is infinitely improved. But the alteration goes farther than that, for it touches the character of Parsifal. He is, in Wagner's book, the same guileless fool as he is in the original legends, but his enlightenment comes to him in another way. Wagner has subjected his hero to the temptation which in Wolfram's story is undergone by Gawain.

The psychologic plan of the garden scene is subtle, but not at all difficult of comprehension. Parsifal has known but one love; he remembers but one tenderness. The sorest spot in his conscience is that where dwells the memory of the dear mother whom he left. Kundry, acting as the agent of the evil powers, seeks to touch that spot. She awakens in her intended victim the divine spark of pity, akin to love, and then she strives to lead him onward to love itself by the imprint of a passionate kiss. But the influence of pity has enlightened the inexperienced heart of the guileless fool, and the kiss which would draw his soul from him serves but to reveal to him the nature of the sin for which Amfortas suffers. He cries out with the anguish of the very wound itself, and bids the temptress begone. This is a conception of unusual power, and for the purpose of exposition through music it is most admirable, in that it centralises the dramatic action entirely upon the play of emotion. Here we find the Wagnerian theory of the music drama working in its fullest freedom and completeness. Parsifal needs no question. He never hears of one. His awakened soul has already given him the necessary information, and when, after long and weary wanderings, he once more finds the domain of the Grail he is ready to heal the sufferer by the only means capable of performing that merciful act.

Kundry is entirely Wagner's creation. In Wolfram's story Condrie is the messenger who upbraids Parsifal for not healing the sick King, and Orgeluse is the beautiful woman who tempts Gawain. Wagner has united the two, but has created a personality of his own. According to one of the legends, Kundry was Herodias, the daughter of Herod, and had been cursed for having laughed at the head of John the Baptist on a charger. Wagner makes her a woman who had laughed at the suffering Christ and had been condemned by him to endless laughter. Thenceforward she wanders through the world in search of her redeemer. This wandering is common to heroines of the old German legends, and shows us that Kundry had certain traits in common with the Valkyrs of the Northern mythology. One of the names applied to her by Klingsor, Gundryggia, we find also in the Eddas as that of a Valkyr, and we further recognise the Valkyr nature in the union of hostile and helpful traits which was characteristic of the Choosers of the Slain.

Wagner's Kundry seeks to expiate her sin by serving the Grail, but the curse prevents her. Through it she becomes the slave of the powers of evil, represented by Klingsor, and, when under the spell, exercises her entire force in seducing the defenders of the right. Not until one of the righteous resists her can the power of the evil one be overthrown, and not till then can she be released from the burden of her sin. In other words, through resisting her, Parsifal becomes her redeemer, and it is thus natural and proper that he should baptise her, and that in the scene of the baptism the laughter-cursed woman should receive the blessing of tears.

The relation of Kundry and Parsifal as temptress and tempted was one which had long dwelt in Wagner's mind. When in 1852 he revived the idea, conceived in 1849, of writing a drama on incidents in the life of Jesus, he told Mrs. Wille, his Zurich friend, that he thought of showing Christ as beloved by Mary Magdalene and resisting her. Again in "The Victors," the Buddhistic drama, which he only sketched, we find that Ananda, the hero, renounced love and was perfectly pure, while Prakriti, the heroine, after loving him in vain, herself renounced love and was received by him into the true faith. It was with these plans still in his mind that Wagner developed the suggestions of the original sources of his drama into the wonderful scene of the temptation in "Parsifal," and their influence also was potent in the composition of the character of Kundry. Mr. Kufferath, in his interesting study of "Parsifal," says that Kundry was to Wagner's mind simply another incarnation of the eternal woman, of whom Mary and Prakriti were earlier embodiments. And, indeed, the extraordinary capacity of Kundry's nature makes this theory more than merely plausible. Another fact which adds to the value of Mr. Kufferath's idea is that, according to one of the earlier German legends, the real cause of the enmity of Herodias for John the Baptist was his refusal of her love. When the head was presented to her on a charger, she wished to kiss the dead lips, but from them was breathed upon her a blast of breath so fierce that it sent her wandering through the world as the unfortunate Francesca flew through the Inferno forever. This stormy wandering was a peculiarity of the Valkyrs, and thus with the union of so many elements in the history and nature of Kundry, we come easily to a belief that Wagner intended to make her one of the aspects of the "eternal feminine." Beautifully he gives her rest when the same blessing is conferred upon the man whose life she ruined. She has repented, but till her victim is freed from the consequences of the joint sin, she, too, must suffer her punishment.

In the character of Parsifal himself certain traits are accentuated by Wagner. These are the complete innocence and the compassionate nature. With compassion Wagner had a deep sympathy. He was so tender to dumb animals and to animate creatures in general that he felt readily the essence of pity which plays so important a part in the old legends. But the older Parsifals, when on their travels, were warriors; they fought their way through life, felling ruthlessly all who opposed them. Wagner's Parsifal is all tenderness and pity. Here, again, we meet with the powerful influence on Wagner of Schopenhauer. Enlightenment by pity is the ethical principle of Schopenhauer's philosophy. Something, too, must be attributed to Wagner's interest in religion. Liszt, an emotionalist in worship, inspired Wagner with emotionalism in sacred matters, and we may infer that certain rapt states of mind, not uncommon to thinkers of the hysteric sort, worked in the formation of "Parsifal."

For the rest there is little to say. Gurnemanz combines the persons and acts of the Gurnemanz and Trevrezent of the epics. Klingsor follows the outline provided by the earlier stories, but Wagner has added one feature not found in them. This magician, with his soul tainted with some unknown sin, was unable to slay the lust which ever burned in his bosom, and in order that he might win the Grail he mutilated himself. Here we come upon another resemblance between this story and that of the Nibelung hoard. To win the gold Alberich renounced love. We have already seen how the Grail resembles the hoard, and this incident in the life of Klingsor, added by Wagner, brings the two stories even closer together.

In telling the story, Wagner has pushed to the front all the most beautiful elements, and has accentuated the Christianity of the tale. He has preached a sermon on the necessity of personal purity in the service of God, on the beauty of renunciation of sensual delight, on the depth of the curse of self-indulgence, and on the nature of repentance. But let it not be supposed that the influence of "Parsifal" rests wholly on the ethical truths contained in it. Its real power is in Wagner's perception of the emotional force of the action of certain ethical ideas upon human nature. By centralising the action of his drama on these emotions, he has put before us a tremendous play of the inner life of man's soul when struggling with its most formidable problems, its own most irresistible passions. "Parsifal" is a religious drama, but it is one for the same reason that the "Prometheus" of Æschylus was. It is a problem play also, and for the same reason as any modern French social drama is. Its boldness lies in the fact that it readopts the stage as the medium for the publication of tenets of religious belief and for the exhibition of the naked soul besieged by lust and tried by the moral law. That use was common in the time of the Greek tragedians. It is an exemplification of Wagner's theory that the theatre ought to be an artistic expression of the thoughts and the aspirations of a people. Its moving power lies in its grasp on the secret life of every man and woman who goes to witness its performance.

III.--The Musical Plan

The musical plan of "Parsifal" is one of peculiar power and its outward aspects are of great beauty. The first act is almost wholly devoted to an exposition of the fundamental thoughts of the drama. We are introduced to the realm of the Grail, the suffering of Amfortas, the eagerness of Kundry to serve and her enslavement to the will of Klingsor, to the "guileless fool" and his failure to ask the question, and to the solemn ceremony of the Last Supper. The second act is devoted to a presentation of the working of the evil element. Klingsor through his flower-maidens strives to seduce the guileless fool, who is saved largely by his own guilelessness. Here we have all the most sensuous and freely composed music. The first act teems with the fundamental and significant motives of the score. The second is rich in luscious melody, spontaneous, dance-like in form and colour, and asking of the hearer nothing but self-relaxation. The third act again becomes solemn, but in its first scene the solemnity is charged with the deep and quiet joy of Good Friday. With the return to the castle of the Grail, the fundamental motives are once more brought into action and the development of themes reaches its climax.

The prelude to the drama sets forth some of the principal musical ideas and attunes the mind to the key of the first act. It opens with the solemn strains of the theme of the Last Supper.

[Music: THE LAST SUPPER.]

This theme becomes one of the principal elements of the score, being utilised throughout the drama to signify the sacredness of the association of the knights of the Grail. The second theme of the prelude is that of the Grail itself, which is here presented to us in a different musical aspect from that of the "Lohengrin" score. There the Grail was celebrated as a potency by which the world was aided, while here it is brought before us as the visible embodiment of a faith, the memento of a crucified Saviour. The theme is, therefore, one of much solemnity.

[Music: THE GRAIL.]

The Vorspiel next proclaims, in a manner which leaves us no doubt of its purport, the triumphant motive of Belief:

[Music: BELIEF.]

These three ideas--the Last Supper, the Grail, and Belief--form the materials of the prelude, and become of fundamental importance in the score of the drama proper. They play their parts chiefly in the first and third acts in putting the hearer in the proper mood for the appreciation of the solemn ceremonials in the Grail castle and for a full comprehension of the religious elements of the drama. For the suffering of Amfortas, with which we are made acquainted in the first scene, there is a musical symbol, which is utilised throughout the score at the proper places:

[Music: AMFORTAS'S SUFFERING.]

A very beautiful answer to this is the music with which the promise of the healing knight is introduced. It is sung by Gurnemanz, and repeated by the young knights who are with him:

[Music: THE PROMISE.

Durch Mitleid wissend,
der reine Tor.

By pity 'lightened
The guileless fool.]

With Kundry we find associated three principal musical ideas. The first of these is that which places before us the wildness of her nature, the stormy flight, and the curse of laughter:

[Music: THE WILD KUNDRY.]

The second is a theme designed to represent the element of magic, as exercised by Klingsor in the control of Kundry:

[Music: SORCERY.]

Lastly, we have one of those simple themes in thirds which always seemed to mean sympathy or helpfulness to the mind of Wagner. It first appears in the score when Gurnemanz asks Kundry whence she brought the balsam:

[Music: KUNDRY THE HELPFUL.]

The personality of Klingsor himself is indicated by this theme:

[Music: KLINGSOR.]

Two themes are especially associated with Parsifal. The first is that of his mother, Herzeleide. This theme has importance because of Kundry's use of the history of the mother to touch the heart of the son:

[Music: HERZELEIDE.]

The Parsifal theme, however, is used to designate directly the personality of the guileless knight:

[Music: PARSIFAL.]

Let the reader compare this motive with that of Lohengrin (see page 286), and note the close musical relationship. This is in part an inversion of that, while the triple rhythm here used robs the Parsifal theme of the militant brilliancy found in that of the rescuing knight of the earlier drama. At the entrance of Parsifal, who has just shot a swan, we hear again the Swan motive from "Lohengrin" (see page 287). The interval between the first and second scenes of the first act introduces a new theme of great beauty. Gurnemanz leads Parsifal toward the castle of the Grail, and a remarkable change of scene is effected by the use of a panorama. During this change an instrumental passage is built up on the tones of the castle bells, which, at first heard distantly, gradually swell to a grand peal:

[Music: THE BELLS.]

As we come with the two to the hall of the Grail we hear the musical representation of the cry or lament of the Saviour:

[Music: THE LAMENT.]

The love-feast scene, which follows, is made up of the principal themes relating to the Grail and the faith of the knights, which are developed in choruses of wonderful beauty. The opening of the second act brings the motives of Klingsor, sorcery, and the suffering of Amfortas all into active use. The music is stormy, passionate, at times furious, till the flower-maidens appear to tempt Parsifal, and then we come to the long passage of freely written melody already described. The significant themes return in the scene between Kundry and Parsifal, but their use is so obvious that it requires no comment. With the awakening of Parsifal's understanding and his recital of his new discoveries, there enters a motive not previously heard, that of Good Friday:

[Music: GOOD FRIDAY.]

In the first scene of the third act another new theme, that of the atonement, comes forward:

[Music: ATONEMENT.]

We have now before us the principal musical materials of the score. But in no other of Wagner's dramas is the mere enumeration of themes so unsatisfactory as it is in "Parsifal." The combination of the musical ideas is so subtle, the building of the large mood pictures, of which they are the elements, so masterly, the effect of the general result so potent with the hearer, that in "Parsifal" one may with the most perfect security throw aside all study of the thematic catalogues and abandon himself to the dramatic influence of the music. This does not mean that "Parsifal" is a more artistic work than Wagner's other dramas, but that the moods are so large and so elementary that music very readily embodies them and brings the auditor under their influence. Much of this is due no doubt to the atmosphere of the Bayreuth Theatre, where alone up to the present this work can be heard. What the effect of "Parsifal" will be when divorced from its present surroundings must be a matter of speculation, but the most devoted Wagnerites will continue to hope that this art-work will not speedily become the property of the ordinary opera-house.