Yes, one under a curse she might be. Here she lives today — perhaps reborn, to expiate sin
committed in an earlier life, unforgiven there and then. Now she makes atonement with such deeds, as benefit our knightly order; she has done good,
beyond all doubt, served us — and in doing so, helped herself.
[Gurnemanz in Parsifal, act one, scene two]
Kundry the Serpent Woman
The wonderful ability of the serpent to slough its skin and so renew its youth has earned for
it throughout the world the characteristic of the master of the mystery of rebirth — of which the moon, waxing and waning, sloughing its shadow and again
waxing, is the celestial sign. The moon is the lord and measure of the life- creating rhythm of the womb, and therewith of time, through which beings come
and go; lord of the mystery of birth and equally of death — which two, in sum, are aspects of one state of being. The moon is the lord of tides and of the
dew that falls at night to refresh the verdure on which cattle graze. But the serpent, too, is a lord of waters. Dwelling in the earth, among the roots of
trees, frequenting springs, marshes, and water courses, it glides with a motion of waves; or it ascends like a liana into branches, there to hang like some
fruit of death. The phallic suggestion is immediate, and, as swallower, the female organ also is suggested; so that a dual image is rendered, which works
implicitly on the sentiments. Likewise a dual association of fire and water attaches to the lightning of its strike, the forked darting of its active
tongue, and the lethal burning of its poison. When imagined as biting its tail, as mythological uroboros, it suggests the waters that in all archaic
cosmologies surround — as well as lie beneath and permeate — the floating circular island Earth.
[Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God, vol.3 Occidental Mythology, ch. 1]
Below: Klingsor conjures Kundry, shown with the serpent of Eden in a painting by Franz Stassen.
Below: Wagner in the clouds with two serpent figures, in a painting by Richard Guhr.
What is the significance of Kundry's kiss?' -
That, my belovèd, is a terrible secret! You know, of course, the serpent of Paradise and its tempting promise: eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et
malum [Genesis 3:5, 'Ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil']. Adam and Eve became 'knowing'. They became 'conscious of
sin'. The human race had to atone for that consciousness by suffering shame and misery until redeemed by Christ, who took upon himself the sin of mankind.
n a recent article, Katherine Syer (Musical Quarterly, vol.94 no.3, 2011, pp 325-80) has
made a strong case for seeing in Kundry an echo of the Serpent Woman of Gozzi's La Donna Serpente. This is the fable
upon which Wagner based the libretto of his early opera, Die Feen. In this opera, prince Arindal falls in love with the fairy princess, Ada, who in
some ways resembles the title character of Die Frau ohne Schatten. Arindal follows Ada through a river into the fairy realm where they live together
for seven years until -- in a reversal of the story of Lohengrin -- Arindal asks his wife her name, a forbidden question that throws him back into
the mortal world. Syer notes how on 3rd June 1878, as recorded by Cosima, Wagner referred to the serpentine motive of love's desire that accompanies
Kundry's kiss (in our Leitmotif guide, no.14 called Klingsor's Magic). Syer notes that at the heart of
this Zaubermotiv lies the interval of a tritone, which as we have already noted is the interval associated with Kundry. Yet the motive is frequently heard in association with Klingsor so perhaps it is more about
magic (with Kundry trapped in Klingsor's spell) than it is about either of these characters.