"One is no longer at home anywhere, so in the end one longs to be back where one can somehow be at home because it is the only place where one would wish to be at home: and that is the world of Greece." - Friedrich Nietzsche [[Book Two of "Der Wille zur Macht"]]
For a five-minute sketch of this course on concepts of the hero in Greek civilization, see Introduction #1, which is avaliable on the Heroes website, under "Texts."
Key word for Dialogue 01a: kleos 'glory, fame, that which is heard'; OR, 'the poem or song that conveys glory, fame, that which is heard'.
This word was used in ancient Greek poetry or song / music to refer to the poetry ["epic"] or the song / music ["lyric"] that glorifies the heroes of the distant heroic past. (Since the references to kleos in archaic Greek poetry and song / music make no distinction between poetry and song / music, I will simply use the word "song" in this dialogue.) The song of kleos simultaneously glorifies the gods - as they "existed" in the heroic age and as they continued to "exist" for their worshippers at any given moment in historical time.
For a five-minute sketch of ancient Greek history, see Introduction #2, which is likewise available on the Heroes website, again under "Texts."
Why did they glorify heroes? Partly because the ancient Greeks worshipped not only gods but also heroes. This is a fundamental fact of ancient Greek history. See Introduction #1; for detailed argumentation, I refer to Introduction #3, which is my article "The Epic Hero." This article, which you will read later on in the course, is likewise available on the Heroes website, again under "Texts."
Let me return to the topic of the word kleos. This word was used to refer to both the medium and the message of the glory of heroes. When I say "medium" I am thinking of performance. To sing a song is to use the medium of performance. Other forms of media, in our own world, involve technological enhancements via print, via audio-video diffusion, etc. The dictum of Marshall McLuhan applies here (his main interest was popular culture): the medium *is* the message.
So I begin by concentrating on the medium of song as marked by the word kleos. In ancient Greece, kleos was the primary medium for communicating the concept of the hero, which is the primary topic (or "message") of this course. Also, I prefer to say "concepts," not "concept." As we will see, there are many different concepts of the hero even in one civilization, as in ancient Greek civilization.
(For other media that we will study in this course, see Introduction #1.)
In the Iliad, the main hero of the Iliad, Achilles, is "quoted" as saying:
Passage (A) Iliad IX 410-414:
My mother Thetis tells me that there are two ways in which I may meet my end [telos]. If I stay here and fight, I shall not have a return [nostos] alive but my glory [kleos] will be imperishable [aphthiton]: whereas if I go home my glory [kleos] will perish, but it will be long before the end [telos] shall take me.
This translation, based on that of Samuel Butler, has been adjusted by me to fit as accurately as possible the meaning of the original Greek. The wording of Samuel Butler is as follows:
'My mother Thetis tells me that there are two ways in which I may meet my end. If I stay here and fight, I shall not return alive but my name will live for ever: whereas if I go home my name will die, but it will be long ere death shall take me.'
This is a literary translation, not a literal one. In general, Butler's translation of the Iliad is literary, meant to be pleasing to the ear when read out loud. In the case of this passage, it successfully captures the general idea of what is being said by Achilles. I focus our attention on the part that I highlighted.
Let me repeat my own more literal translation of this highlighted part, which is Iliad Scroll IX line 413 in the original Greek:
'I shall lose my safe homecoming [nostos], but I will have a kleos that is unwilting.'
Interpretation. Achilles has started to understand the consequences of his decision to reject the option of a safe homecoming. He is in the process of deciding to choose the other option: he will stay at Troy and continue to fight in the Trojan War. This choice will result in his death, and he is starting to understand that. In the fullness of time, he will be ready to give up his life in exchange for getting a kleos that will never 'wilt'. Unlike natural flowers that go through the cycle of blossoming and then wilting, this unnatural or "mutant" flower, this kleos, will forever stay the same, never losing its color, aroma, and overall beauty. Here we see a very ancient theme that is built into the traditional symbolism of kleos, which we will explore in more detail later. Like a natural flower, Achilles will "wilt." But his kleos will never wilt because it is not a thing of nature: it is a thing of art, a song. This kleos is the story of Troy, the Iliad (the name of the poem, Iliad, means 'story of Ilion'; Ilion is the other name for 'Troy'). Achilles the hero gets into the Iliad by dying a warrior's death. The consolation prize for his death *is* the kleos of the Iliad.
In ancient Greek culture, the distinction between art and nature, between the artificial and the natural, is not the same as in our culture. Their culture was what anthropologists call a "song culture."
In our culture, artificial implies "unreal" and natural implies "real." (I quote the words of the commercial: "Is it real - or is it Memorex?") In a song culture, the artificial can be just as real as the natural. In a song culture, the words of an "artificial" song can be just as real as the words of "natural" speech in a real-life experience. In a song culture, the song can be just as real as life itself.
[[Further reading, not required for this course: A modern attempt to capture a sense of the "trueness" of song is a poem by Wallace Stevens, "Peter Quince at the Clavier." At a later point in the course, you may wish to listen to this poem.]]
In ancient Greek song culture, the "story" of the Iliad was felt to be not only "real" but also "true." As we will see in later dialogues, the Homeric Iliad was felt to convey the ultimate truth-values of the ancient Greek song-culture.
Because we English-speakers have a different cultural perspective on the word "story," which implies *fiction* and is therefore not expected to be "true," I will ordinarily use the more neutral word *narrative* in referring to the "story" of the Iliad and other such "stories."
To distinguish the story of the Iliad from stories that exist inside the story of the Iliad, I will refer to the Iliad as the Narrative, with an upper-case N, and to the stories within the Iliad as narratives, with lower-case n. Also, I will as a rule use the word Narrator in referring to "Homer," the prehistoric culture-hero who was venerated by the ancient Greeks as the ultimate "singer" of the Iliad and Odyssey. (I will return to the concept of "culture-hero" in later dialogues.)
To experience song in a song culture is to experience a real-life experience. For the Greek hero, as we will see later, the ultimate real-life experience is death. (Which can be an alternative to sex, as we will also see later.)
The hero must struggle against the fear of death, in order to achieve the most perfect death. Such a perfect moment must be recorded in song, kleos. In ancient Greek traditions, a hero's dying words are a "swan song"; according to myth, the swan sings his most beautiful song at the moment of his death. We will study this myth at the end of this course, when we read Plato's Phaedo: in that work, Socrates talks about the concept of the swan song at the moment of his own death by hemlock. What Socrates is quoted as saying, as we will see, turns out to be his own swan song.
Before I proceed to the next passage I will examine, I offer a brief remark about expansion vs. compression in the traditional media of ancient Greek songmaking. The principle of compression results in micro-narratives, while the principle of expansion results in such monumental compositions as the macro-Narrative of the Iliad itself.
In many ways, as we will see, a film clip in today's culture of film-making is like a micro-narrative in ancient Greek songmaking.
That much said, let us now look at the next passage, which can be described as a micro-narrative in the Iliad.
Passage (B) Iliad XI 218-227:
Tell me now you Muses that dwell in the mansions of Olympus, who, whether of the Trojans or of their allies, was first to face Agamemnon? It was Iphidamas son of Antenor, a man both brave and of great stature, who was brought up in fertile Thrace the mother of sheep. Kissēs, his mother's father, brought him up in his own house when he was a child - Kissēs, father to fair Theano. When he reached manhood, Kissēs would have kept him there, and was for giving him his daughter in marriage, but as soon as he had married he went off to seek the kleos of the Achaeans with twelve ships that followed him.
I concentrate on the last line, Iliad XI 227, which I now translate more literally: 'Married, he went away from the bride chamber, looking for kleos from the Achaeans'.
I am quoting here from a micro-narrative (compression) within the macro-Narrative (expansion) that is the Iliad. This micro-narrative is almost like a clip from a film. The micro-narrative is about a hero who decides to interrupt his honeymoon and go to Troy to fight on the side of the Trojans against the Achaeans [= Greeks]. At this point in the micro-narrative, he has just been killed in battle. Why did this hero give up his life, a life of newlywed bliss, just to fight and die at Troy? The Narrator gives the answer to this question: this hero did it in order to get included in the kleos of the Greek song culture. He was 'looking for kleos from the Achaeans'. This kleos is the macro-Narrative of the Iliad.
Again we see a hero getting into the Iliad by dying a warrior's death. But this hero dies for just a "bit part."
Achilles will die for the lead part.
These "parts" in the epic master Narrative of the Iliad are just as real to these heroes as their lives are real to them.
For Achilles, the song of kleos is just as real as his own life is real to him. The infinite time of the artificial song is just as real to him as the finite time of his natural life.
Similarly, the infinite time of the gods, who are everlasting, is just as real to the Homeric hero as the finite time of his natural life. The gods are "artificial" but real, just like kleos. Even the sky, which is the abode of the gods, is therefore "artificial." The movements of the celestial bodies - the patterns of the stars and even sunrise and sunset - belong to the realm of immortality. By contrast, the earth, which is the abode of humans, is therefore "natural": it is mortal territory. In dialogues coming up, I will have much more to say about this opposition of mortal = natural vs. immortal = artificial.
{Further reading, not required for this course:
Nagy, G. 1999. "As the World Runs Out of Breath: Metaphorical Perspectives on the Heavens and the Atmosphere in the Ancient World." In Ker, Keniston, Marx 1999:37-50.
Ker, J. C., Keniston, K., and Marx, L. 1999. ed. Earth, Air, Fire, Water: Humanistic Studies of the Environment. Amherst MA.}
Earlier, in passage (A), we have seen Achilles in the process of "scripting" his death.
You may want to compare the film clip "Like tears in rain. Time to die," where the character of Roy "scripts" his own death.} The film clips, with commentaries that accompany most of them, are to be found under "Multimedia" on the Heroes website. We will see the relevance of this expression "time to die" in Dialogue 01b.
A perfect example of a hero is Herakles = Hēraklēs 'he who has the kleos of Hēra'. (The Romanized name is "Hercules"). With Herakles in mind, I now introduce Passage C = Iliad XIX 85-133. This passage shows a micro-narrative (by way of compression) about Herakles. Please read this passage with special care.
Here we arrive at the central point I hope to make. What we are about to see in this passage is how the macro-Narrative of the Narrator of the Iliad sets up the micro-narrative of Herakles as a model for Achilles. And here is a basic formula to keep in mind as you read this passage: the king Eurystheus is to the king Agamemnon as the warrior Herakles is to the warrior Achilles.
As a point of comparison for understanding how to interpret the relationships between macro-narrative and micro-narrative, I refer to my commentary on "chapter 4" of the 1951 film "Tales of Hoffmann." My notes on this "chapter" are to found in the Appendix at the end of these notes.
Passage (C) Iliad XIX 85-133:
Then Agamemnon spoke, rising in his place, and not going into the middle of the assembly. "Danaan heroes," said he, "attendants [therapontes] of Ares, it is well to listen when a man stands up to speak, and it is not seemly to interrupt him, or it will go hard even with a practiced speaker. Who can either hear or speak in an uproar? Even the finest orator will be disconcerted by it. I will expound to the son of Peleus, and do you other Achaeans heed me and mark me well. Often have the Achaeans spoken to me of this matter and upbraided me, but it was not I who was responsible [aitios]: Zeus, and Fate, and the Erinys that walks in darkness afflicted me with derangement [atē] when we were assembled on the day that I took from Achilles the prize that had been awarded to him. What could I do? All things are in the hand of heaven, and Atē, eldest of Zeus' daughters, shuts men's eyes to their destruction. She walks delicately, not on the solid earth, but hovers over the heads of men to make them stumble or to ensnare them.
"Time was when she deceived Zeus himself, who they say is greatest whether of gods or men; for Hera, woman though she was, beguiled him on the day when Alkmene was to bring forth mighty Herakles in the fair city of Thebes. He told it out among the gods saying, 'Hear me all gods and goddesses, that I may speak even as I am minded; this day shall an Eileithuia, helper of women who are in labor, bring a man child into the world who shall be lord over all that dwell about him who are of my blood and lineage.' Then said Hera all crafty and full of guile, 'You will play false, and will not hold to your word. Swear me, O Olympian, swear me a great oath, that he who shall this day fall between the feet of a woman, shall be lord over all that dwell about him who are of your blood and lineage.'
"Thus she spoke, and Zeus suspected her not, but swore the great oath, to his much ruing thereafter. For Hera darted down from the high summit of Olympus, and went in haste to Achaean Argos where she knew that the noble wife of Sthenelos son of Perseus then was. She being with child and in her seventh month, Hera brought the child to birth though there was a month still wanting, but she stayed the offspring of Alkmene, and kept back the Eileithuiai. Then she went to tell Zeus the son of Kronos, and said, 'Father Zeus, lord of the lightning—I have a word for your ear. There is a fine child born this day, Eurystheus, son to Sthenelos the son of Perseus; he is of your lineage; it is well, therefore, that he should reign over the Argives.'
"At this Zeus felt grief [akhos] to the very quick, and in his rage he caught Atē by the hair, and swore a great oath that never should she again invade starry heaven and Olympus, for she was the bane of all. Then he whirled her round with a twist of his hand, and flung her down from heaven so that she fell on to the fields of mortal men; and he was ever angry with her when he saw his son groaning under the cruel labors [athloi] that Eurystheus laid upon him. Even so did I grieve when mighty Hektor was killing the Argives at their ships, and all the time I kept thinking of Atē who had so harmed me. I was blind, and Zeus robbed me of my reason; I will now make atonement, and will add much treasure by way of amends. Go, therefore, into battle, you and your people with you. I will give you all that Odysseus offered you yesterday in your tents: or if it so please you, wait, though you want to fight at once, and my attendants [therapontes] shall bring the gifts from my ship, that you may see whether what I give you is enough."
In Dialogue 01b, we will examine this passage in detail, applying three criteria in determining the characteristics of a hero. These criteria are developed from the standpoint of ancient Greek hero cults (on the concept of hero-cults, I refer to the article I cited earlier: Nagy, "The Epic Hero"):
A) unseasonal
B) extreme, positively (for example, "best" in whatever category) or negatively; in the negative sense, it is easy to see how this is a function of #A.
C) antagonistic toward the god who seems to be most like the hero; antagonism does not rule out an element of attraction (compare our notion of "fatal attraction"), which is played out in a variety of ways.
Appendix: Commentary by Nagy on a clip ("chapter 4") from the 1951 film
"Tales of Hoffmann"
The camera is lifting upward as its viewing eye looks further and further downward. Then, suddenly, the camera's view swoops down on the image of Hoffmann as he violently doffs his hat and, just as violently, throws it away while singing in another burst of demonic intensity ... {0:01-03}
'Right ...'
He swivels, looking to the right of the frame that the viewing eye of the camera has made for him, and he declares in a singing shout ... {0:04-07}
... Here's Kleinzach'
As he shouts the name of Kleinzach, Hoffmann is looking at a row of pewter carafes lined up on a shelf in the background. It is from one such carafe that Hoffmann had poured his own glass of gleaming red wine.
The hand of the poet is positioned to point toward one carafe in particular, and the camera closes in on both the pointing hand and the carafe itself {0:07}. There is an image carved in relief into the surface of this carafe. We can see that the relief carving shows the figure of a character whom we have already seen earlier. He was the jester standing on the turnstile and anxiously looking about - the one whose head was turning now to his right and now to his left. This character, as we now find out, is Kleinzach. He is grotesque.
The eye of the camera now shifts from the close-up frame to a frame that looks at Hoffmann looking at Kleinzach from farther away {0:08}. We have just enough time to notice seven other carafes on the shelf. They are of various shapes and sizes. We can make out various figures carved in relief into the elaborate surfaces of these carafes.
As the camera backs away {0:07-13} we still have just enough time to notice the elaborate arabesque of wrought iron that makes a background for the shelf of carafes. There is something very prominent embedded in this arabesque. We cannot help but notice the colorful figure of a beautiful lady costumed in medieval finery and wearing a tall pointed hat that trails off into an elegant long scarf flowing gracefully behind her. *She is gazing at her own reflection in a hand-held mirror.* From here on, I will refer to this beautiful lady as 'a fair damsel', in order to evoke the medieval aura of her elegant costuming.
In these same moments, as the eye of the camera backs away {0:07-13} we can see to the upper right and the upper left of this fair damsel the colorful figures of handsome young men also dressed in medieval finery. They are shown in a variety of dancing poses - and a musician is accompanying them on a drum. It seems as if the handsome young men were courting the fair damsel, showing off for her.
As the eye of the camera backs away {0:07-13}, Hoffmann swivels around, turning his back to the shelf of carafes, and he starts singing his tale about Kleinzach {0:13-16} .
'Now long ago
the duke of renowned Eisenach ...'
The chorus repeats after him ... {0:16-19}
'... the duke of Eisenach
Hoffmann strides toward the chorus, continuing his story. The Muse crosses his path as the poet continues singing ... {0:19-23}
'... Employed a tiny clown
by the name of Kleinzach'
So the jester has finally been named. He is a 'tiny clown' named Kleinzach. The name Kleinzach means 'tiny Zachary', that is, 'Little Zack'.
As Hoffmann continues singing, the Muse is striding closer and closer toward the viewing eye of the camera while the poet Hoffmann is striding farther and farther off into the background, off to the side.
The chorus sings in antiphonal responsion ... {0:23-24}
'He had the name Kleinzach.'
All eyes are now on Hoffmann. That is, the chorus of drinking companions are all looking at him, riveted by his tale. All eyes are on Hoffmann, yes, except for the eye of the camera, which lets the figure of the poet recede farther and farther off into the background. We see him from a greater and greater distance as he gesticulates his tale for his enthralled audience who are the chorus of drinking companions. Meanwhile the poet's Muse continues to move ahead toward the camera, moving closer and closer into view. As the Muse continues to move forward toward the viewing eye of the camera, we see that her head, topped with fiery red short hair, becomes aligned with the hovering image of the fair damsel in the background {0:25}. It is as if the Muse in the foreground were inspiring what Hoffmann is singing in the background.
Hoffmann continues singing his tale about Kleinzach ... {0:25-32}
'He wore a busby big and black
And his noddle
His noddle did go crick-crack.'
While the words of the poet bring to life the picture of the 'noddle' of Kleinzach that keeps going 'crick-crack' {0:32}, the Muse abruptly swivels to the side, thus making room for a view of the grotesque shape that her head has been blocking up till now. That shape is the central figure that we had noticed earlier. He is Kleinzach, and his shape is carved in relief into the surface of the carafe that we had seen positioned near the hand and the head of Hoffmann. Now we see it positioned directly under the colorful figure of the fair damsel. The view created by the eye of the camera is making mental connections here. The grotesque jester and the beautiful damsel are to be linked somehow.
Meanwhile, the eye of the camera moves to a close-up view of Hoffmann as he continues with the theme of the 'noddle' that goes 'crick-crack' ... {0:35-38}
'Crick-crack
Crick-crack
So that's
So that's Kleinzach'
The sound made by the 'noddle' of Kleinzach is supposed to rhyme with the sound made by way of pronouncing the name of Kleinzach.
The face of Hoffmann looks demonically twisted and tormented as he sings the rhyme. It is as if he were possessed by the name and by the sound of the name of Kleinzach. As we will see, he completely identifies with 'little Zack' and with the sound of 'crick-crack'. It is the sound of breaking, of 'cracking' - as we will see in later moments when the poet's own heart breaks or 'cracks' over his loss of his lady-loves.
In a beautiful overhead view, we now see the chorus of drinking companions seated around the round table replete with lit candles. We hear then joining in the song of Hoffmann, singing the refrain ... {0:38}
'Crick-crack'
And then Hoffmann resumes the lead as the chorus leader ... {0:39}
'Crick-crack'
The exchange is repeated. The chorus sings again, viewed from overhead ... {0:40}
'Crick-crack'
And now Hoffmann leads into a closure for what turns out to be the first stanza of the choral singing. He approaches the closure of the stanza by repeating the refrain in a sustained burst of intensity...
'Crick-crack' {0:41-42}
Now Hoffmann as the choral leader winds up and closes the stanza, with the chorus joining in ... {0:42-51}
'So that's
So that's
Kleinzach'
Now that the first stanza has come to closure, the viewing eye of the camera closes in on the face of Hoffmann, reinforcing the intensity of this closure.
But then the eye of the camera shifts abruptly. We see again the carafe we had seen earlier at the center of the shelf. Once again, we see the carafe in a close-up shot {0:51}. Its centrality is highlighted by its positioning. On both the left and the right are two smaller carafes, and the relief shapes carved into their dark blue surfaces are visually overpowered by the glaring skin-colored image of the emerging relief shape carved into the surface of the central carafe. That carved shape is the figure of the jester Kleinzach. He is grotesque.
The eye of the camera shifts abruptly again. We see the ruddy face of Luther, smoking his pipe and waiting for the next stanza of the story to begin. {0:55}
The eye of the camera shifts abruptly again, back to Hoffmann. He now sings the opening of the next stanza, which continues telling the story of Kleinzach ... {0:57-1:01}
'He also had a paunch
quite as stout as a stack'
The eye of the camera looks again at the beautiful overhead view of the drinking companions seated around the round table replete with lit candles. They repeat the refrain ... {1:02-04}
'As stout as any stack'
Hoffmann continues ... {1:04-08}
'His feet looked just like twigs
sticking out of a sack'
Now we look back at the drinking companions ... {1:08-10}
'Like twigs in any sack'
Suddenly the eye of the camera shifts again, viewing Hoffmann from a different angle. Behind the poet, the whole shelf of carafes becomes visible. Hoffmann continues his singing ... {1:10-18}
'He capered like a jumping jack {1:10-13}
And his knees cracked together {1:13-15}
And went click-clack' {1:15-18}
Just before he sings 'And his knees cracked together' {1:13-15}, the figure of Hoffmann choreographs what he is about to sing: he spreads his knees apart and then cracks them together {1:10-13}. His whole lower body mimics the cracking of a nut in a nutcracker. And, the moment he cracks his knees together, the viewing eye of the camera shifts abruptly {1:15-18}. We suddenly see, close up, the figure of the jester Kleinzach carved in relief into the surface of the carafe. And, just as suddenly, the relief carving of the jester comes alive, jumping out of the surface that had held it frozen, immobile. Once freed from that two-dimensional surface, the relief carving of Kleinzach has suddenly become a fully three-dimensional figure, now unfrozen and mobile. So the jester is now truly a 'jumping jack', just as the song of Hoffmann has said he was, since Kleinzach has suddenly jumped out of the surface that had held him back, boxed him in. The jester Kleinzach is now a three-dimensional jack-in-the-box, jumping out of the two-dimensional surface that was holding on to the relief carving.
The tiny figure of Kleinzach is now transformed into a life-size human dancer. He is Frederick Ashton, who is also the choreographer of this film version of The Tales of Hoffman. The choreographer here dances the r™le of Kleinzach. He dances the r™le that he himself has choreographed. And the platform of the stage for the choreographed dancing of Frederick Ashton is the same space that used to be the platform of the shelf holding the pewter carafes. The tiny relief figure of the 'clown' Kleinzach, which had just a moment ago been held imprisoned on the rigid surface of the carafe, has now been liberated to dance his own story while Hoffmann is singing that same story. And this story sung by the poet Hoffmann and danced by the jester Kleinzach is not only about Kleinzach. It is a story also about the poet Hoffmann himself.
As Hoffmann continues to sing about the knees of Kleinzach, and how they came together like a nutcracker, his words come to life in the dancing of Frederick Ashton in the r™le of Kleinzach. The jester begins to dance what the poet sings. The dance is synchronized with the words sung by Hoffman about the knees of Kleinzach ...
'And his knees cracked together {1:13-15}
And went click-clack {1:15-18}
Click-clack {1:19}
Click-clack {1:20-21}
So that's
So that's Kleinzach' {1:21-23}
The movement of the knees in the song will become primarily the movement of the knees of Frederick Ashton as he now starts to dance the r™le of Kleinzach. Just as the figure of Hoffmann had choreographed what he was about to sing by spreading his own knees apart and then cracking them together {1:10-13}, soon Kleinzach will do the same: he will crack his knees together. Just when we expect Kleinzach to crack his knees together for the first time, however, the eye of the camera shifts back abruptly to Hoffmann, and it is he who is shown as cracking his knees together as he sings 'And went click-clack' {1:15-18}. Then, as Hoffmann sings 'click-clack' one more time, the eye of the camera shifts back abruptly to Kleinzach, and this time it is he who is shown as cracking his knees together {1:19}. In his new dance, which begins immediately after he jumps out of his confinement as a carving on the rigid surface of the carafe, Kleinzach too spreads his knees apart and then cracks them together. The spreading of his knees is synchronized with the words 'click-clack' {1:19}. Then it is back to Hoffmann, who sings 'click-clack' one more time as he cracks his knees together {1:20-21}.
Kleinzach is off-camera when he is first cracking his knees together. But then, just as abruptly, the viewing eye of the camera shifts from Hoffmann to Kleinzach when the poet sings 'click-clack' a second time. This time Kleinzach is on-camera and Hoffmann is off-camera. Hoffmann is doing off-camera what Kleinzach is doing on-camera. They are both cracking their knees together. Their choreography and their stories are here completely synchronized.
From the very start of the choreography of the cracking knees, the frames showing the form of Kleinzach in the background also show a most interesting background: we notice again the colorful figure of the fair damsel costumed in medieval finery. This figure, embedded in an elaborate arabesque of wrought iron, is positioned as hovering over the figure of Kleinzach. Off to the upper right and the upper left of this fair damsel we see again the colorful figures of handsome young men also costumed in medieval finery.
Now back to Hoffmann. Once again we see him on-camera while Kleinzach goes off-camera. He is cracking his knees once again, while Kleinzach must be doing the same thing while he is off-camera. Again, the double choreography of the poet and the jester is synchronized. And their stories too will be synchronized.
The viewing eye of the camera stays with Hoffman as he sings the refrain ...
'So that's
So that's Kleinzach' {1:21-23}
Now the words start once again ...
'Click-clack {1:24}
Click-clack {1:24}
Click-clack {1:25}
Click-clack {1:25-28}
So that's
So that's Kleinzach {1:28-37}
But, this time, the viewing eye of the camera has shifted to a close-up of the wrought-iron arabesque featuring the colorful figures of the handsome young men who are shown in a variety of dancing poses, along with the musician who is accompanying them on a drum. The young men, held fast on the rigid surface of the wrought-iron arabesque, are immobile, frozen into their dancing poses, but their faces and their gesturing hands are animated for song. They now sing as a would-be chorus for Hoffmann as their soloist singer and for Kleinzach as their vicarious representative as soloist dancer ...
'Click-clack {1:24}
Then the viewing eye of the camera moves back to Kleinzach, who cracks his knees together once again while Hoffmann sings off-camera ...
Click-clack' {1:24}
The same sequence is then repeated ...
'Click-clack {1:25}
Click-clack' {1:25-28}
The jester now swivels around as Hoffmann concludes ...
So that's
So that's Kleinzach {1:28-37}
While Hoffmann is singing these concluding words, the mute jester mimes the singing. He is going through the motions as if he rather than Hoffmann were the true singer.
As Kleinzach circles around the carafe, which shows a gaping emptiness where his form had once been embedded before he jumped out of it, Hoffmann begins to sing the next stanza ...
'Now what words
what words to paint those features?' {1:42-47}
The chorus repeats the question of Hoffmann ...
Now what words to paint those features?' {1:47-50}
Suddenly, a spotlight glares at the grotesque form of Kleinzach. He is visibly pained to find himself in that spotlight. Was the wording of the song referring to his grotesque features?
The singing slows down. The melody of the tale of Kleinzach, which had started in a comic frame, now modulates into a tragic frame. The spotlight moves upward as Kleinzach swivels around, turning away from the viewing eye of the camera. That viewing eye now starts to move upward as well, following the spotlight. The dance of Kleinzach, which has slowed down under the weight of the spotlight, follows the view shown by the eye of the camera. Both arms of the jester now reach upward, worshipfully, toward the moving spotlight, which suddenly illuminates the vision of the fair damsel. The spotlight was all along aiming at her, not at him, and it has now found her. The viewing eye of the camera closes in on the fair damsel in the spotlight, who is all radiant in her beauty. It was her beauty that Hoffmann was seeking to 'paint' by way of finding the perfect words to match her perfect features. The viewing eye of the camera now closes in on her and gazes at her. Meanwhile, she is gazing at her own reflection in a mirror that she is holding in front of her.
The fair damsel is framed perfectly by the viewing eye of the camera as the words of Hoffmann echo the words he sang before ...
'Now what words
what words to paint those features?' {1:50-59}
The fair damsel swivels around from a profile view into a frontal view, showing off all the angles of her beauty in response to the refracted sound of Hoffmann's words ...
'... to paint those features ...' {1:59-2:07}
She continues to swivel, past the frontal view and moving toward a profile view from the other side, while all along gazing at herself in the mirror that she keeps holding in front of her. The mirror has by now moved around all the way from a nine o'clock position to a four o'clock position, and the gaze of the fair damsel has followed the mirror. By the time her gaze reaches four o'clock position, the words of Hoffmann conclude the thought that has been left in suspension till now ...
'... past comparing'. {2:07-11}
The fair damsel is incomparably beautiful. She is an ideal.
The viewing eye of the camera backs away, and we see Kleinzach, now a tragic rather than comic figure, grieving between the two carafes that had once framed the carafe that contained him. On the surface of the carafe to our left, we see the face of a beautiful woman who is looking straight into the eye of the camera. On the surface of the carafe to our right, we see the face of a grotesque man with a grimace. Kleinzach is reaching out tenderly toward the face of the beautiful woman {02:12}
The tragic song continues ...
'She is there ...' {2:14}
Kleinzach reaches out tenderly toward her.
The tragic song continues ...
'... Fair ...' {2:16}
Kleinzach starts running after her while the tragic song continues ...
'... Fair as dawn of the day ...' {2:17}
The tragic song continues as Kleinzach rushes past the carafe that had once been his home before he jumped out of its surface. A gaping emptiness is all that is left in the space that his grotesque form had once decorated. Meanwhile, the tragic song continues, evoking thoughts of the home left behind ...
'When love first bade me dare
to leave the home of my youth' {2:19-24}
Kleinzach keeps moving past the row of carafes. Each carafe has a surface decorated with a human form - except for his own carafe. The tragic song continues ...
'And in my heart to swear
I would fly far away
to a world we would share' {2:25-34}
Who is leaving his home behind, 'flying' far away to a world to share with a lady-love? Is it Kleinzach? Yes, he is 'flying' toward the fair damsel. Or is it Hoffmann? As we will see, Hoffmann too has been 'flying' toward his own lady-love. When Hoffmann sings *in my heart* here, he is feeling the love in his own heart. In the words of the opera, without the imagined dance of Kleinzach as choreographed by Frederick Ashton, it is the heart of Hoffmann that is breaking for his own lady-love. In the words of the opera, Kleinzach does not have his own lady-love. He is just cracking his knees together, for the amusement of the drinking companions who hear the song of Hoffmann about the grotesque little jester.
Kleinzach starts to ascend to the heights of the wrought-iron arabesque at precisely the moment when Hoffmann's words sing 'I would fly far away' {2:30}. As he ascends, the little jester extends his worshipful arms, reaching out toward the vision of the fair damsel, who continues to gaze at her own reflection in the mirror that she keeps on holding in front of her. As Kleinzach gazes at the fair damsel, with his worshipful arms outstretched, the tragic song continues ...
'Oh, her hair
Oh, her hair with its curls entwining' {2:35-41}
As if in response to these words, the fair damsel turns around, in the direction of the worshipful Kleinzach. She is still gazing at her reflection in the mirror that she holds in front of her, but it seems as if she is about to look beyond the mirror and toward her grotesque adorant. Meanwhile, the tragic song continues ...
'Shed a warmth where the snow
of her bosom was shining' {2:41-46}
The question is, can there be hope for warmth where you see snow, even if the snow you see is radiant in its whiteness?
There does seem to be some hope, since the fair damsel now starts to descend from the heights. She is heading in the direction of her adorant. She keeps on coming toward him and, the next thing you know, she reaches him and hands over to him the mirror that she has been holding in front of her {2:46}. He takes the mirror in his right hand while his left hand touches her right hand, which is no longer holding the mirror. As of right now, he is the one who is holding the mirror. While the mirror has passed from her right hand to his right hand, however, her gaze at her own reflection in the mirror has continued without any interruption. And the tragic song continues as well ...
'Her eyes, her eyes
unfathomed lakes of blue' {2:46-51}
Kleinzach is now escorting the fair damsel as she continues to descend from on high. She is moving forward while descending, but he is moving backward in his own descent, gently taking her right hand with his left hand while holding the mirror in his right hand, steadily holding it up for her to continue gazing at her reflection, without interruption. And the tragic song continues as well, without interruption ...
'Spread around where she trod
a reflection as true' {2:51-57}
This theme of a lady-love's *reflection in a mirror* will come back to haunt Hoffmann in the Tale of Giulietta.
Meanwhile, the fair damsel keeps advancing, gazing at the mirror that holds her reflection, and the hapless Kleinzach keeps receding as he continues to hold up the mirror to her gaze. She is like the proverbial skylark who is attracted to her own reflection in a mirror and crashes into it, losing her life. The skylark loses her life by crashing into the mirror just as a woman loses her soul by gazing at her own reflection. So says the Devil himself, in a song from the Tale of Giulietta ...
I quote here the relevant wording of a version of Offenbach's The Tales of Hoffmann known as the "Censor's Libretto" (1881; a facsimile of Acts 4 and 5 has been published by Heinzelmann 1988). The wording in this part of the libretto matches closely the relevant wording in Act 4 Scene 5 of the play by Barbier and CarrŽ, Les Contes fantastiques d'Hoffmann, staged in 1851.
The demonic character named Dapertutto (which is the Devil's invocational name here, meaning 'you see him everywhere!') sings to a diamond intended for Giulietta, telling it to gleam or 'sparkle' so as to capture her soul:
(Tirant de son doigt une bague où brille un gros diamant et le faisant scintiller)
Tourne, tourne, miroir où se prend l'alouette,
Scintille, diamant! Fascine, attire-la!
Femme, oiseau, le chasseur est là!
Qui vous voit, qui vous guette!
Le chasseur noir!
L'alouette ou la femme
A cet appât vainqueur
Vont de l'aîle ou du coeur,
L'une y laisse la vie | et l'autre y perd son ‰me.
(He [= Dapertutto] pulls from his finger a ring that has on it a huge shining diamond, and he makes it gleam)
Turn, turn, mirror in which the skylark is captured.
Gleam, diamond, fascinate her, draw her near.
Woman or bird! The hunter is there.
The one who sees you, who stalks you.
The black hunter.
Skylark or woman
Toward this irresistible trap
go by wing or by way of the heart.
One leaves behind her life, and the other loses her soul.
Tales of Hoffmann "Censor's Libretto" Act 4
Here we turn back to the doomed courtship of the fair damsel by the hapless Kleinzach...
As we saw, the damsel keeps advancing, gazing at the mirror that holds her reflection, and the hapless Kleinzach keeps receding as he continues to hold up the mirror to her gaze. And the singing continues ...
'And as our pageant car
by cupids all attended' {2:57-3:03}
Meanwhile the couple circles around a carafe decorated with the carving of a sad face. As they circle around, Kleinzach gallantly picks up the hem of the train of the long robe trailing behind the fair damsel. Now she is leading the procession, while her adorant is now following behind her. And the singing continues ...
'Sped on with ne'er a jar
Her voice with triumph blended' {3:03-12}
The eye of the camera views the couple's procession from behind the wrought-iron arabesque that used to be the background and has now become the foreground. Their procession modulates into a dance. It is a graceful pas de deux that is danced while Kleinzach manages to hold on to the train of the flowing robe of his lady-love with one hand while also holding on to the mirror with the other hand. For the moment, the lady-love is no longer staring into the mirror. Instead, she is staring directly into the eye of the camera. The singing continues ...
'While mortals held their breath' {3:13-19}
Meanwhile, the dancing becomes more and more passionate. And the singing too becomes more and more passionate as the tragic song continues ...
'Sang out with heavenly art
While mortals held their breath
She sang with heavenly art' {3:19-31}
A new frame suddenly interrupts the mood. It is a close-up, and we now see that the fair damsel has once again taken control of the mirror. She is once again holding it in front of her and she is once again gazing at her reflection in it. Meanwhile, the passionate singing of Hoffmann off-camera is reaching a climax ...
'Till echoes melt in death' {3:31-38}
In response to the echoing of these climatic words, Kleinzach desperately circles around his lady-love one last time, and she suddenly gazes at him. For this one moment, her gazing at the mirror has been diverted. Just as suddenly, while the climatic words about echoes melting in death is still echoing, she holds up the mirror to the grotesque face of Kleinzach. This moment is synchronized with the words *in death* {3:38}. When he sees what he now sees, he breaks down, abjectly turning away from the hideous sight of his own grotesque ugliness in the mirror. And while the grotesque Kleinzach turns away from his reflection in mirror, the fair damsel turns away from him and resumes her gazing at her own reflection while holding the mirror in front of her. Now we see her sliding away effortlessly while the miserable jester collapses in a heap of abject despair. As she slides away, she circles around the broken figure of Kleinzach one last time. Off-camera, the tragic song of Hoffmann resounds with the words
'Resounding
Through
My heart' {3:41-54}
Again I ask the question: whose heart is *my heart*? Is it the heart of Kleinzach? Or is it the heart of Hoffmann who is singing the tragic song?
As the tragic song concludes with the words *my heart*, the fair damsel takes one last look at the broken figure of Kleinzach. Then she gracefully glides into the center of the frame, and there her gliding motion is arrested at precisely the same moment as the tragic song of Hoffmann comes to an end. Now she has reverted to the same stop-motion picture that she was before she started coming to life in the motion picture of this tragic dance that is the tragic tale of Kleinzach. Now we see her exactly as we saw her for the first time, except that the wrought-iron arabesque that had been her background is now her foreground, standing between her and the eye of the camera. It is within this freeze-frame that we get to see for the last time the lady-love of Kleinzach - and Kleinzach himself.