In ‘The
Aporia of Bourgeois Art: Desire in Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice’, Hayes and Quinby present a reading of Mann’s
novella through ‘a discourse of desire (…) produced by a system of binary
oppositions in which one term is privileged over the other’ (1). As Death in Venice progresses, there is an
uncanny merge of these initially apparent binaries, seen in Aschenbach’s
decline as he becomes increasingly obsessed by Tadzio.
‘[Tadzio’s head] was like the
head of Eros, with the creamy lustre of Parian marble, the brows fine-drawn and
serious, the temples and ear darkly covered by the neat right-angled growth of
the curling hair.’ (2).
Fig. 1
When
considering the text in Nietzschean terms, the tensions between Apollonian and
Dionysian powers can be seen to manifest in Aschenbach’s obsession with Tadzio,
who he sees as being ‘as beautiful as a young god’ (Mann, p. 227). There is a
parallel to be drawn between Tadzio, object of Aschenbach’s desires, and Tadzio’s
sisters, who are seen, defeminised, dressed in unflattering, ‘cloistral’
clothing, reaffirming the concept of the female body as an object of desire
(Mann, p.219).
On
his journey to Venice in part three, Aschenbach observes an old man,
masquerading in youth by wearing make-up and a wig. There is arguably an
explicit shift in Aschenbach’s perception of the ordered, socially correct,
Apollonian world around him, into a disordered, Dionysian one, ‘increasingly deranged
and bizarre’ (Mann, p. 211). Perhaps this marks the beginning of the end for
Aschenbach, as though from his decision to travel to Venice, he is fated to his
death. T. J. Reed suggests in ‘Death in
Venice’: Making and Unmaking a Master, that Aschenbach is ‘the fated victim
of a god, his vacation a necessary passage to death at an appointed place’ (3). Later, in part five,
Aschenbach appears as a reflection of the old man, described as wearing a
scarlet necktie and broad brimmed straw hat, almost exactly as the Dionysian
figure had worn in part three.
‘The old man (…) could not carry
the wine as his youthful companions had done, and he was lamentably drunk’
(Mann, p. 213).
Fig. 2
So
follows a tension of Apollonian and Dionysian forces as Aschenbach’s own
balance is shifted back and forth between the two, as he focuses his attention towards
Tadzio, and then as he tries to leave Venice, only to return to the hotel and
to Tadzio. The tensions are, perhaps, reconciled in Aschenbach’s death, by forsaking
‘classical Apollonian form’ (Hayes and Quinby), because, as Nietzsche suggests,
‘wherever the Dionysian voice was heard, the Apollonian norm seemed suspended
or destroyed’ (4).
Fig. 3
---
Fig.
1: Statue of Eros stringing his bow, in the Musei Capitolini.
Fig.
2: Seated Dionysos holding out a kantharos,
in the British Museum.
Fig. 3: Final Scene from the 1971 film, Death in Venice.
(1) Tom
Hayes and Lee Quinby, ‘The Aporia of Bourgeois Art: Desire in Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice’ in Criticism: A Quarterly for Literature and the Arts, 31:2 (Spring
1989), p. 159.
(2) Thomas Mann, Death in Venice, trans. by David Luke (London: Vintage, 1990), p. 223.
(3) T. J.
Reed, ‘Death in Venice’: Making and
Unmaking a Master (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1994), p. 11.
(4) Freidrich
Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy
<http://evans-experintialism.freewebspace.com/nietzsche_birth_tragedy_part_B.htm>
---
--
Laura Lovelock
No comments:
Post a Comment