The Wandering Jew
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agner's Kundry is only in part based on
Wolfram's Condrie, the
High Messenger of the
Grail. As we have noted,
Kundry retains some
attributes of Wolfram's
character; but as Wagner states in his Prose Draft his Kundry is a female variant of the
archetypal Wandering Jew.

Left: Sue, engraving by Fuhr.
Ahasuerus
his (masculine)
archetype has been found in poems and stories since
the thirteenth century. The first literary record of
such a doomed wanderer is found in the Flores
Historiarum , a chronicle of Roger of Wendover, a
monk of St. Albans (d. 1237). The account there given
was incorporated with some slight amplifications into
the Historia Major of Matthew Paris (d. 1259).
The legend owes its fame and popularity to an
anonymous German chap-book which appeared in 1602
under the title: Kurtze Beschreibung und
Erzählung von einem Juden mit Namen Ahasverus,
etc. There the story is related on the authority of a
Lutheran clergyman, Paulus von Eitzen (d. 1598), who
claimed to have met the Jew in person.
Le Juif Errant
his legend was taken
up by Eugène Sue in his novel, Le juif
errant (1844). The novel is mainly concerned
with the crimes of a group of secretive, scheming
Jesuits. Ahasuerus is a peripheral character. The
wanderer is accompanied through history by Herodias, who like Ahasuerus
seeks her redemption:
Suddenly, through the shadow thrown
by the overhanging wood, which stretches far into
endless depths, a human form appears. It is a
woman. She advances slowly towards the ruins. She
has reached them. She treads the once sacred
ground. This woman is pale, her look sad, her long
robe floats on the wind, her feet covered with
dust. She walks with difficulty and pain. A block
of stone is placed near the stream, almost at the
foot of the statue of John the Baptist. Upon this
stone she sinks breathless and exhausted, worn out
with fatigue. And yet, for many days, many years,
many centuries, she has walked on unwearied.
For the first time, she feels an
unconquerable sense of lassitude. For the first
time, her feet begin to fail her. For the first
time, she, who traversed, with firm and equal
footsteps, the moving lava of torrid deserts, while
whole caravans were buried in drifts of fiery sand
-- who passed, with steady and disdainful tread,
over the eternal snows of Arctic regions, over icy
solitudes, in which no other human being could live
-- who had been spared by the devouring flames of
conflagrations, and by the impetuous waters of
torrents -- she, in brief, who for centuries had
had nothing in common with humanity -- for the
first time suffers mortal pain.
Her feet bleed, her limbs ache with
fatigue, she is devoured by burning thirst. She
feels these infirmities, yet scarcely dares to
believe them real. Her joy would be too immense!
But now, her throat becomes dry, contracted, all on
fire. She sees the stream, and throws herself on
her knees, to quench her thirst in that crystal
current, transparent as a mirror. What happens
then? Hardly have her fevered lips touched the
fresh, pure water, than, still kneeling, supported
on her hands, she suddenly ceases to drink, and
gazes eagerly on the limpid stream. Forgetting the
thirst which devours her, she utters a loud cry --
a cry of deep, earnest, religious joy, like a note
of praise and infinite gratitude to heaven. In that
deep mirror, she perceives that she has grown
older.
In a few days, a few hours, a few
minutes, perhaps in a single second, she has
attained the maturity of age. She, who for more
than eighteen centuries has been as a woman of
twenty, carrying through successive generations the
load of her imperishable youth -- she has grown
old, and may, perhaps, at length, hope to die.
Every minute of her life may now bring her nearer
to the last home! Transported by that ineffable
hope, she rises, and lifts her eyes to heaven,
clasping her hands in an attitude of fervent
prayer. Then her eyes rest on the tall statue of
stone, representing St. John. The head, which the
martyr carries in his hand, seems, from beneath its
half-closed granite eyelid, to cast upon the
Wandering Jewess a glance of commiseration and
pity. And it was she, Herodias who, in the cruel
intoxication of a pagan festival, demanded the
murder of the saint! And it is at the foot of the
martyr's image, that, for the first time, the
immortality, which weighed on her for so many
centuries, seems likely to find a term!
O, impenetrable mystery! oh, divine
hope!" she cries. "The wrath of heaven is at length
appeased. The hand of the Lord brings me to the
feet of the blessed martyr, and I begin once more
to feel myself a human creature. And yet it was to
avenge his death, that the same heaven condemned me
to eternal wanderings!
Eugène Sue, Le Juif Errant, Chapter
50.
"Herodias warst du"
n the second act of
Wagner's music-drama, Klingsor reminds Kundry that she was, in a former
life, Herodias. Just
as Ahasuerus had turned away the suffering Jesus from
his door, so (we can infer) did Herodias laugh at Christ
bearing his Cross. As a result, she is forced to
repeat her accursed laughter .
he philosopher
Schopenhauer called
Schadenfreude (malicious joy, taking
pleasure in the sufferings of others), the worst
trait in human nature. It is the exact opposite of
sympathy and compassion.
But the worst trait in human nature
is always that malicious joy at the misfortune of
others, for it is closely akin to cruelty and in
fact really differs from it only as theory from
practice. It appears generally where sympathy
should find a place, for this, as its opposite, is
the true source of all genuine righteousness and
loving kindness. In another sense, envy is opposed
to sympathy, in so far as it is called forth by the
opposite occasion; and so its opposition to
sympathy is due primarily to the occasion and only
in consequence thereof does it appear in the
feeling itself. Therefore, although reprehensible,
envy is nevertheless excusable and generally human,
whereas that malicious joy is devilish and its
mockery the laughter of hell.
Arthur Schopenhauer, Parerga und
Paralipomena, volume 2, chapter 8, section
114.
n addition to Sue's
novel, there can be no doubt that Wagner was inspired
by Heinrich Heine's Atta
Troll of 1841, in which the character of Herodias
corresponds to Wilde's Salome (1893). In contrast to
earlier treatments of the story by Heine, Flaubert
and others, Wilde shifted its focus from mother to
daughter. Heine described his Flying
Dutchman as the Wandering Jew of the sea
and as such, the Dutchman can be seen as a parallel
to Kundry.
t should be noted
that Wagner's association of the Dutchman and
Kundry with the archetype of
the Wandering Jew does not mean that he thought of
these characters as Jewish, nor that he intended his
audience to think of them in that way. Nowhere in the
libretto of
Parsifal, nor in Wagner's writings, nor in
any recorded statement by Wagner, does he refer to
Kundry as belonging to the
Jewish race or religion, or indeed to any race or
religion. She is a heathen, beyond doubt, not sharing
the faith of the Grail community, but we are not told
about her religious beliefs, if any. Klingsor calls her, in the
same sentence, both Herodias and Gundryggia, names that
suggest a Semitic and a Nordic existence
respectively. Therefore Kundry belongs to no specific race;
in her various lifetimes she has belonged to many
different races.
s Kundry the biblical Herodias (ca. 15
BC to after 39 AD), perhaps? We are not told,
although it is a reasonable assumption. Her account
of laughter at the suffering of one whom we can
assume to have been Jesus (his name is never
mentioned) suggests that Kundry remembers an existence from
that time, when she lived in Judea. Perhaps she was
the biblical Herodias, the Hasmonean princess of
Judea (wife of Philip son of Herod the Great, then of
his half-brother Herod Antipas). In summary,
everything about Kundry is
ambiguous.
Postscript
ince writing the
notes above, I have found in Jessie L. Weston's
Legends of the Wagner Drama an account of a tradition -- Weston
called it a weird story -- behind Heinrich
Heine's Atta Troll with a
reference to Herodias that might have been known both
to Heine and to Wagner.
ne of Wagner's
sources of information about the historical Herodias
was Ernest Renan's Life of Jesus (1863):
One of the most strongly marked characters of this
tragical family of the Herods was Herodias,
granddaughter of Herod the Great. Violent, ambitious
and passionate, she detested Judaism and despised its
laws. [Life of Jesus, pages
74-75]
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