Bookshelf Archive
(now ... Opera)
Richard Wagner, Parsifal (1882)
Recently, on the 12 of March 2011, I fulfilled an ambition to see Wagner’s Parsifal; the production was that of English National Opera, at the London Coliseum. Sung in English (as is ENO’s practice), this was in a production first staged by them in 1999, and directed by Nikolaus Lehnhoff (this production has also been staged in various cities in Europe and the United States).
Wagner’s conception of the work seems to have originated in 1845, when he read Wolfram von Eschenbach’s (medieval) poem Parzival, though his conception was much influenced by studies of Buddhism, and oriental philosophies, in the mid-1850s. Only in 1857 did he specifically connect his understanding of the story’s themes with Good Friday, but it was 1865 before he took up the project again, completing the libretto (“poem”) in 1877. It was a further five years before the opera was produced, at the Bayreuth Festival of 1882.
While the work borrows various ideas from Buddhism and Eastern thought (particularly renunciation) – the spelling with an S instead of Wolfram’s Z was supposedly derived from the Arabic Fal Parsi, “holy fool” - as it emerged, Parsifal was an essentially Christian work, or “ein Bűhnenweihfestspiel” (“A festival play for the consecration of the stage”), and the setting within the specifically-Christian-derived grail legends (as Wolfram’s story), and the repeated references to the Lord and Good Friday, make it, in my view, a story whose Christian “centre” cannot reasonably be denied (despite our necessary acknowledgement of the non-Christian ideas that contributed to it’s genesis).
Lehnhoff’s production almost explicitly attempts to de-Christianise Parsifal; “This production of Parsifal does not seek to stage a sacred drama – a ‘Bűhnenweihfestspiel’” – says Wolfgang Willaschek, in his article in the ENO programme (“Endgame in the Waste Land”, p. 27). Original productions set the hall of the grail knights (in which the mass/communion-like ceremony of the grail’s uncovering is performed) beneath the cupola of a cathedral (normally identified with Siena). The significant act of destroying evil and its forces was Parsifal making the sign of the Cross with the recovered spear of the Crucifixion. In this production, the grail and its shrine, the grail hall – and the making of the sign of the Cross - are omitted. The de-Christianisation of Christian art is something I regularly complain about (the reason for it, in many cases, is that secularists/materialists can’t produce their own art, so they have to distort religiously-inspired art to fit their agenda; besides, they can’t write as good music). The problem with this production, is that though the old settings were radically replaced (and Wagner’s stage directions ignored totally), the director went only half-way, retaining the words (complete with references to the Lord; I quite thought not to hear those), and, of course, the music. Thus, the libretto explicitly refers to meadows and flowers, etc. (throughout the work), but here, we were stranded in a sort of builder’s junk yard, with fragments of concrete replacing the sung-about flowers; waste land indeed. If the stage directions were going to be ignored, why not doctor the words, to at least try to get the whole thing to make sense?
The community of knights, at Montsalvat castle in northern Spain, have charge of the grail or cup which collected Christ’s blood at his crucifixion. The spear (used to pierce his side) has been captured by the grail community’s “rival”, the sorcerer Klingsor, whose magic castle and garden are nearby, and whose ambition is to steal the grail also. Ancient lore predicts that evil can only be defeated, and the grail community restored from its current decline, when a “holy fool” comes along, and destroys Klingsor’s realm, and recovers the spear.
Parsifal (after an unimpressive start) turns out to be the “holy fool” long waited for; but central is the curious female character Kundry. She is one of the most complex figures in literature (indeed, if we would find a character of such inner-contradictions, we might need to look to the characters of Shakespeare, rather than the world of opera). Kundry is a mixture of both the desire for redemption and the need to dominate and degrade those possessed of innocent virtue (particularly, that is, the holy fool Parsifal); she is both penitent and seductress, and as such is typical (or perhaps the prototype) of many late-nineteenth century femmes fatales. She laughed at Christ on the way to his death, and seduced various grail knights (including Amfortas, leader of the community), and she seeks, in Act 2, the redemption that she knows only Parsifal can bring her … but urges him to spend just one brief hour in her embrace – which (they both know) will destroy them both eternally (and the grail knight’s community also).
The notion that the barrier to redemption and virtue, is, supremely, sexual sin, is an idea crucial to many understandings of Christian thought, particularly, perhaps, in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and maybe formative of the ancient Christian traditions of asceticism. Thus, we have the dualist understandings of the opposition of matter and spirit which – deriving, one suspects, from Neo-Platonism – fuelled the search for spiritual purity in the renunciation of sexual physical life. From this ancient stream, surely, derives the idea that sexuality and holiness might be warring incompatibles. Of course, this is a distortion, mis-conceived, and while we might not require the total rejection of celibacy, we must urgently promote the Christian valuing of physicality (whose acceptance might take centuries) when we have established a true distinction between distorted, degraded sexuality and the (perhaps hidden) virtue of its true, holy, nature. The real opposite of virtue is not sexual vice, but the rejection of the ultimate purpose of human existence (abandoning our pride before the reality, and experience, of God’s love for us), which inevitably degrades our valuing of individual people, and thus ineluctably leads us to the materialist adoption of a vicious dehumanism, which is the source of everything totalitarian and evil.
At the end of Parsifal, Wagner’s stage direction makes clear that (the spear and grail community restored) we see Kundry sink into lifelessness (redeemed, but dead). In the secularist understanding, of course, this is a very bad thing, since this present life is all, and there can be no kind of redemption that involves termination. In Lehnhoff’s production, we see Kundry not expire, but rise and walk, with Parsifal, up a damaged railway track towards strong light (ie. walk off-stage). I found it rather beautiful, and, curiously, as authentically Christian as Wagner’s original idea.
Summer 2011
Lisa Nolland, Chris Sugden and Sarah Finch, eds., God, Gays and the Church. Human Sexuality and Experience in Christian Thinking, London, The Latimer Trust, 2008.
978-0-946307-93-7
The following is a review added to the Amazon.com site in early April 2010, largely in response to a review already present there. This version has been slightly expanded.
This book was produced in response to debates in the Church of England’s General Synod, on 28 February 2007, which it reports on. It is relevant, though, to any examination of the relationship between homosexuality and Christianity, and other sexual issues.
It looks at the whole relationship of the Anglican leadership to the powerful gay lobby, and presents several very sobering accounts of the experiences of gay people, men and women, who have sought to exit homosexual lifestyles (e.g. the account of Dr Ronald G. Lee (p. 59), which deserves to be read at least twice).
Central to the Synod debates, it shows, was an obvious and unsubtle work of engineering, by the leadership, which made sure that the orthodox viewpoint (and the experiences of post-gays, as mentioned above) were marginalised and largely silenced.
Also – and this is very important, and rarely realised – it showed the thoroughly this-worldly (i.e. secular) values by which the debates – of a Christian Church! – were carefully framed by the revisionists (p. 21-2), and the (related) way in which a person’s “experience” (i.e. nature) is, in this view, to be considered sovereign – in defiance of the whole of Christian tradition, belief, thought, and theology.
Also, the book sought to differentiate between the (much-vaunted) “committed, faithful, loving, and s table” relationships and actual sexual exclusivity (p. 11). Contributions by Lisa Nolland (one of the editors) shows how the business of marriage-like relationships between two men (or two women) are just the start, as the ménages of polyamorists, zoos, and consenting paedophiles, are well on the horizon.
The orthodox Christian answer to the incursions of the gay lobby above all (it seems to me) makes the crucial distinction between so-called “liberalism” and authentic freeing (again, see Lee, and several others (pp. 25-59)); it exposes the total falsity of what has been called “the three myths about homosexuality” (it is inherent, it is not changeable, and its is “natural” (physiologically safe)).
Above all, the Christian faith offers real freedom – which is not to be found in the gay lifestyle or from the gay lobby – or by pandering to physical appetites or this-worldly desires. We have moved on since 2007. The time of hysterical name-calling (“Homophobe!”) is over. Now it is the time real facts, objective evidence, truth – and real liberation. The only people who could be offended by this book (as one of the Amazon reviewers was) are those determined that the prisoner’s chains may never be broken, that the doors of their jails remain ever shut.
Scott Klusendorf, The Case for Life. Equipping Christians to Engage the Culture, Wheaton, Illinois, Crossway Books, 2009.
ISBN 978-1-4335-0320-7.
This book is aimed at "ordinary" Christians, and equips them for arguing for a pro-life position among their peers. It explicitly states (p. 33) that "hard-core abortion-choicers are not your primary customers. You're after the 60 per-cent of Americans who are in the mushy middle who think of themselves as 'pro choice' ..." [the setting of the book is firmly within the American situation of law, culture, and religion, and from a broadly Evangelical perspective].
It majors on the one question which Klusendorf sees as the key to everything: Are the unborn human? If they are (as this book argues strongly) then they are to be defended as such, and derive their worth from this alone.
Within this, Klusendorf argues brilliantly, constantly giving refutations of all the possible arguments that "pro-choice" people give, including the "foetuses are just cells and tissue", the "my body my right" approach, "the coat hanger argument" ('many women will die hideously if we allow illegal abortions to return'), and many others (clearly this man is a formidable debater (as his accounts of his experiences show); we need such people, but I'm glad I myself am not going to be up against him).
Knowing that many hard-line abortion supporters have largely relinquished the "foetuses are not human" position, and fallen back to the relative worth approach, Klusendorf hammers away at this Peter Singer-derived idea that worth only depends on cognitive abilities.
In giving instruction in the business of defending life and undermining pro-abortionism, to your peers, Klusendorf has the brilliant "Columbo questions" routine (named after the discreet questioning methods of the TV detective).
Like the detective, we can subtly question ill-thought-out positions and assumptions by asking: "What do you mean by that?", "How did you come to that conclusion?", "Have you considered ...?" (pp. 149-153). On the often-asked question of if non-religious people can oppose abortion, his answer seems to be 'not really' (p. 131), since any materialist position would not adequately provide a basis for establishing the ultimate worth of humans by way of being human.
Make no mistake; however, this book is not just a collection of refutations, arguments, and logic. Underlying it is a firm grasp on the world-view/value system approach, which assumes that the way Christians see the world, and value it, is the key to the culture war we are engaged upon (to this extent, it reminds me of Nancy Pearcey's Total Truth; the incompatibility of the authentic Christian world-view, with that of the secular-materialist, under which we in the West live, is non-negotiable, and this reality must underlie our answer to all).
Thus, the book has many passages concerning moral relativism, and its significance in the secular-materialist mind-set; and it brilliantly summarises large, complex philosophical positions which have led us (well, Western secular-materialism) to where we are (try explaining Kant and Wittgenstein as succinctly as this author does, on p. 97-8). The self-defeating logic of materialism (not often appreciated, surely, in the places where materialism is tacitly, unconsciously accepted) is also exposed.
Much of the book is concerned to persuade Christians (those, I guess, of the so-called "liberal" variety) that defending life is an essential Christian activity, and neither questionable, optional, nor a "narrow" issue (e.g. "Does the Bible justify abortion?", chapter 8 (should arguing against this be at all necessary?)) - and this reminds us that we are here in the world of Protestant Christianity where the revisionist monster lurks - thus, Klusendorf needs to argue for our supporting Roman Catholics in the pro-life struggle! (In truth, it is their fight - long has been - which we (non-Catholics) are now coming to support).
If there is anything I would wish to add to Klusendorf's approach, it is that today (unlike, say, two decades ago) we must see abortion as just one a
spect of the whole Culture of Death, which includes euthanasia, eugenics, promotion of homosexuality (a sure route to disease and death), and other things. The Culture of Death, and the necessary devaluing of individual human life, is the inevitable result of materialism, and the ordering of our post-civilisations on the assumption of such a world-view. Klusendorf does major on embryonic stem cell research (chapter 4), surely one aspect of the CD, but in view of that, there was no reason not to treat the others. The great value of this book is its principal purpose: its arguments and refutations, and its exposure of the relativist ethics it debunks. I must practice the arguments, hoping I remember them all when the time comes when I need them.
Only if given the weapons will we win the war, and thus such books are beyond price.