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Summary and Analysis of Chapter One
Summary: The novel opens by introducing the great writer, Gustav Aschenbach, known since his fiftieth birthday as von Aschenbach. Von Aschenbach sets out on a solitary walk from his apartment in Munich and ruminates on his morning's work. It is early May, and as he passes through the Englischer Garten, he notices the weather is finally beginning to clear up. Von Aschenbach looks for a tram station at the North Cemetery, and when he is unable to find one, focuses his attention on the Byzantine building nearby. He notices a figure in the portico, evidently a foreign tourist, grimacing into the sunlight. The figure is wearing a bast hat, and notices von Aschenbach observing him. Upon being discovered, the writer walks away in embarrassment. After noticing the tourist, von Aschenbach is struck with a sudden desire to travel, and imagines tropical scenes with lush vegetation. Previously, he had regarded tourism as merely an occasional diversion good for his health. Now that he is growing old and fears his artistic powers are faltering, he feels a sudden need to travel and escape from the duty of writing. Von Aschenbach had experienced writer's block that very morning and felt that, although his work is still well received by the public, it lacks the sparkle of his younger work. He feels his usual summer alone in the German countryside will not cure him, because he finds the environment as oppressive as the city. Von Aschenbach locates the tram station, and considers turning back to find the tourist, but can no longer see him. AnalysisThe passivity of the novella is established in this opening chapter. Mann specializes in psychodrama-his characters are not as concerned with interrelating as they are with their own mental processes. In the novella, the protagonist speaks to only few other individuals, and performs no action except walking and observing. However, in this first chapter, von Aschenbach commits to a course of action crucial to his life. Even passing through the streets of Munich is an aberration from his daily routine, and is thus a precursor to his even more unprecedented trip abroad. The stranger in the cemetery is highly important, both in sparking von Aschenbach's interest in travel and in hinting at the protagonist's homoerotic tendencies. In observing the tourist, von Aschenbach is not necessarily attracted to the man, but rather wishes to personify the mysterious stranger by undertaking his own travels. The opening chapter establishes von Aschenbach as an important personage in society and simultaneously begins to undermine him. First, the prefix "von" to the protagonist's last name demonstrates that he has achieved aristocratic status. In addition, Mann's slightly over-wrought language invites the reader to take von Aschenbach as seriously as he takes himself; thus explaining the task of writing is extremely difficult, prestigious, and worthwhile. Although, at first glance, the novel seems to be written in the third person, it is truly written in indirect style, or what the Germans term erlebte Rede. In other words, although the narrator writes about von Aschenbach in the third person, the reader can occasionally, and with increasing frequency as the novella progresses, drop into von Aschenbach's head to hear his thoughts. This style creates a double perspective and the possibility for dramatic irony, a literary device in which the reader knows more than the character. As the novella progresses, von Aschenbach spirals out of control, and the reader, privy to his thoughts, is partly dragged along, but also maintains enough distance to wonder whether his demise is really necessary.
Summary and Analysis of Chapter Two
Summary: In this chapter, the nature of von Aschenbach's work is revealed. He has written an epic biographical novel of Frederick the Great, entitled Maya, and a novella entitled The Wretched Figure, which explores morality through a protagonist that justifies his own depravity by encouraging his wife to commit adultery. An essay entitled Art and the Intellect added to his fame, and is described as equivalent in worth to Schiller's essay work. Von Aschenbach was born in Silesia to a civil servant and his sensual Bohemian wife, whose ancestry lent a foreign appearance to the writer's face. Currently, he answers fan mail from all over the world. Early in his life, von Aschenbach disciplined himself to become an artist. He grew up in solitude because he was too sickly to attend school, and his motto is "persevere." In his youth, his goal was to live to an old age and continue to produce great literature. To achieve this despite his illness-prone body, he knew he needed great discipline. Von Aschenbach wakes early each morning by dashing cold water on his face, and devotes his productive mornings to writing. He embodies the hero characters in his work: a somewhat passive, but ascetic intellectual. Von Aschenbach writes about the heroism of the weak, a self-possessed exterior hiding a dissolute interior, which is well suited to his times. As he grows older, his prose grows more stiff and formulaic and begins to be quoted as exemplary in official German textbooks. Von Aschenbach married quite young, but his wife died soon thereafter. In this chapter, he is described as medium in height, dark, and with a large head on which he wears gold spectacles. His mouth is large and his eyes tired. Although he may live an ascetic existence, the subjects of his writings seem to ravage his face as if he were living through them. AnalysisThis chapter interrupts the narrative style of the previous chapter to provide a biographical sketch of the author. His story closely parallels Mann's own history and artistic work. The somber father and mother with more artistic blood are a direct reference to Mann's civil servant father and his mother with Brazilian heritage. It soon becomes clear that von Aschenbach's personal life has been minimal to non-existent, making the nature of his artistic life extra-important in describing a personality the reader does not yet know well. In comparing von Aschenbach to the great German aesthetic theorist, Friedrich von Schiller, Mann clearly demonstrates his literary worth. Writing in the tradition of French symbolists such as Flaubert, even Mann's smallest details hold heavy significance. In an anecdote about von Aschenbach's falling ill around his thirty-fifth birthday, a friend comments the writer has always lived "like this," clenches his fist, and has not been able to live "like this," and he unclenches his fist. This chapter also demonstrates that von Aschenbach is not born to constant industry, but forces himself to it, behavior that began at a very young age. In fact, this is an unnatural state, and is thus impossible to sustain. The last three chapters of the novella thus demonstrate how von Aschenbach behaves when he finally begins to live in an unclenched manner. Rather than simply serving as a literary background to the rest of the novel, this chapter functions as a premature obituary in a novella that the reader knows will end in a death, due to the title. Because it functions as an obituary, in discussing von Aschenbach's life up to this point, the chapter is an omen for death.
Summary and Analysis of Chapter Three
Summary: Two weeks later, von Aschenbach is ready to leave Munich, and asks that his house in the German countryside be prepared for his arrival four weeks hence. He takes a train to Trieste, Italy, where he boards a ship for Pola. He stops at a resort on an island in the Adriatic, populated mainly by Austrian tourists. Von Aschenbach is dissatisfied with the location, decides he is in the wrong place, and boards a ship to Venice. The ship employee who sells von Aschenbach his ticket attempts to impress him with tidbits about how wonderful Venice is, which annoys von Aschenbach. He enters the ship somewhat disgusted, and as he watches the second-class passengers board, he notices a group of young men joined by an older man wearing rouge and dressed gaudily to appear younger. Von Aschenbach finds this man's obvious attempts at recapturing his lost youth revolting. Later, he lunches in the hold of the ship, and again observes the same group of men. When the coastline comes into view, the young men on the ship celebrate, but their older companion has become pitifully drunk. As the ship enters Venice, von Aschenbach recognizes several landmarks. He puts his luggage into a gondola, and the rouged man drunkenly wishes him a pleasant stay. Von Aschenbach reflects on how like a coffin a gondola is, and realizes that the gondolier is not taking him to his requested destination, the pier. The gondolier explains that the pier will not accept luggage, and refuses the writer's request to turn back. A gondola holding musicians passes, and von Aschenbach gives them money. When von Aschenbach's gondola arrives at a landing stage, he disembarks, and the gondolier disappears before von Aschenbach can pay him. A nearby old beggar explains that he is the only unlicensed gondolier in Venice, and didn't want to be caught by the municipal officials on the pier. Von Aschenbach is expected at his hotel and is greeted with respect. He takes a cup of tea on the terrace and then goes for a walk. Later in the day, he arrives for dinner too early and takes the chance to observe the other guests in the lobby. He notices that all nationalities are represented, but a Polish family consisting of three girls, ages fifteen to seventeen, and a beautiful boy of about fourteen accompanied by a governess, particularly interests him. Once in the dining room, he notices the boy's classically Greek symmetrical beauty. The girls are dressed severely and appear nun-like, while the boy has long curling hair and is clearly the favorite of the family. The children are dining with their mother, and when they leave after their meal, the boy glances back at Von Aschenbach. The next morning, the weather is still quite gray. Von Aschenbach finds himself depressed and considers leaving Venice. At breakfast, he notes that the beautiful boy is allowed to sleep well into the morning while his sisters are awake very early. Later in the morning, he sees the boy wading in the ocean and admires his beautiful legs. On the beach, the boy leads a group of about ten children. By listening to the children playing, von Aschenbach discovers that the boy is named is Tadzio, and that his closest friend is Jasiu. At noon, von Aschenbach returns to his room and studies his old face and gray hair in the mirror. During lunch, he gets a closer look at Tadzio and notices his teeth do not look well, meaning he is most likely sickly. That afternoon, von Aschenbach goes to Venice to take a walk, and feels feverish as a result of the crowd and sirocco. He realizes the pollution of the city makes him sick, and decides to travel to a different location. The next morning, von Aschenbach tries to leave. At breakfast, when he sees Tadzio, he almost changes his mind, but decides to continue his course. However, Von Aschenbach's luggage is put on the wrong train, forcing him to stay in Venice at least temporarily. Von Aschenbach finds himself surprisingly happy upon learning of this setback, and returns to the hotel. However, upon admitting that the reason for his happiness is Tadzio's presence, he despairs. AnalysisHere, Mann begins to rely increasingly on the literary technique of leitmotif. Various details are subtly repeated to create meaning. Von Aschenbach's discomfort on the boat to Venice is made clear by the reoccurrence of sordid details concerning the trip. The boat is grubby, the water is filthy, and his fellow passengers smell strange and are badly behaved. Mann splices these details in with other aspects of von Aschenbach's consciousness, making the section appear less like an intentional indictment of the voyage. The most ominous section of this chapter is when von Aschenbach 's is unable to control his gondolier. Von Aschenbach immediately notes that the gondola feels like a coffin, an allusion to death, and then cannot control where his gondolier takes him. This encounter subtly echoes his encounter with the stranger in the Munich graveyard, another clear symbol of death. The gondolier and the graveyard stranger are strikingly similar, as they both have red hair and prominent teeth: the graveyard stranger bares his teeth in a strange grimace, and the gondolier shows his teeth with the effort of rowing. In addition, both men have specific hats. The stranger's is made of bast, and the gondolier's is a, "shapeless straw hat beginning to unravel." The unraveling hat perhaps symbolizes the onset of chaos in von Aschenbach's otherwise highly ascetic existence. Clearly, the graveyard stranger and the gondolier are highly similar, a repetition that illustrates destiny, not coincidence, has brought von Aschenbach to Venice.
Summary and Analysis of Chapter Four
Summary: After two days, von Aschenbach's luggage is returned to him at the hotel and he unpacks completely, determined to stay in Venice. He falls into a routine of seeing Tadzio regularly, especially during mornings at the beach. He has accepted his attraction to Tadzio, but to reconcile his feelings, imagines an Ancient Greek scene of Socrates instructing Phaedrus, casting himself as Socrates, and Tadzio as Phaedrus. Von Aschenbach writes well when spying on Tadzio, although afterwards he feels exhausted and self-reproachful, as though he has done something base. However, he reasons that his readers will never know nor care from where his inspiration springs. One morning, he follows the boy along the beach, and almost overtakes him. Von Aschenbach is tempted to speak to Tadzio, but stops himself at the last moment and immediately fears that someone has witnessed his intention. Von Aschenbach goes to bed early because he knows the possibility of seeing Tadzio after nine is slim. As time passes, Tadzio begins to return von Aschenbach's attention, walking past his table and looking at him on the way to his family's cabana. Von Aschenbach becomes so accustomed to his routine of watching Tadzio, that he is put off when Tadzio fails to appear on the beach one morning. Later on he discovers that Tadzio's family had gone to the city. He is caught off guard when he runs into Tadzio that night, and smiles in surprise and happiness. Tadzio smiles back, looking like Narcissus. Von Aschenbach is shaken by this image and hurries away to collect himself. Seated on a hotel bench, although he knows it is absurd, he murmurs "I love you." AnalysisThis chapter is riddled with references to Ancient Greece. For more information about the Platonic concepts in this chapter, see the essay on Platonic love. As soon as von Aschenbach sets eyes on Tadzio, he associates him with, "Greek statuary of the noblest period." He begins to describe the boy as "beauty itself" and "form as the thought of God." Despite von Aschenbach's attempts to ennoble his love for Tadzio by putting it in the context of Greek philosophy, his reliance on the ideal of Platonic love is disingenuous. A prerequisite of the ideal relationship between a man and boy is that the man be the boy's mentor. Von Aschenbach is unable to speak to Tadzio, much less become his mentor. The boy's attitude is also antithetical to the practice of Platonic love. The meaningful smile that he gives von Aschenbach is described as "the smile of Narcissus." Narcissus, in Greek mythology, is a beautiful young boy in love with his own image. He stares at his own reflection in a pool until he dies and is reborn as a flower. Significantly, the myth holds that the boy refused all offers of love. Thus, consummation of von Aschenbach's love seems highly unlikely. This chapter presents von Aschenbach's true internal struggle: he realizes that he is in love with the boy, but works to assimilate these feelings into his normal philosophy, which proves unsuccessful. Thomas Mann was steeped in the philosophy of Nietzsche, who divides the Apollonian from the Dionysian. The former refers to form, order, and clarity, while the latter refers to abandon, joy, and debauchery. The categories are named after the Greek gods Apollo and Dionysus. Chapters One and Two demonstrate von Aschenbach's strong adherence to an Apollonian lifestyle. His day was a rigidly scheduled and ordered affair, and his artistic work was beginning to demonstrate this stiff lifestyle, as his prose grew overly structured and inflexible. However, von Aschenbach's dreams and his obsession with Tadzio, spliced into the writer's existence, demonstrate his tendency toward the Dionysian. The last lines of this chapter are the climax of the novel. Up to this point, von Aschenbach has struggled to repress his feelings for Tadzio, but his final interaction with the boy demonstrates the triumph of the Dionysian forces in his mind. Finally, von Aschenbach verbally admits his love for Tadzio, although he mutters "I love you" alone, rather than in Tadzio's presence.
Summary and Analysis of Chapter Five
Summary: During his fourth week at the Lido, von Aschenbach notices something is amiss. The number of guests at the hotel is falling rapidly, and there are no other German guests. The barber mentions offhand that he is staying on despite "the disease," but then refuses to define the disease. Von Aschenbach goes downtown immediately, and identifies the smell of germicide in the air. The city is plastered with posters warning against eating seafood. He asks a shopkeeper about the smell, and the man dismisses it, saying that it is a precautionary matter mainly of the police's concern. At the hotel, von Aschenbach looks for news, but cannot find anything but vague warnings and reassurances. He feels that Venice is hushing up a dirty secret akin to his own secret of loving Tadzio, and is also concerned that Tadzio might leave to flee the epidemic. He follows the boy more regularly, even to a mass in Venice. He tails the Polish family around the city, follows them in a gondola, and is upset when he thinks they have noticed him. He justifies his obsession with the idea that it was the fashion in Ancient Greece for older men to love younger boys. Von Aschenbach continues to search through German-language newspapers, which report an epidemic and criticize the Italian government for trying to hush it up, but also report retractions making the scale of the problem hard to measure. Von Aschenbach confronts the manager of the hotel about the plans to disinfect Venice, and considers the manager a hypocrite when he claims germicide is only a precaution. Von Aschenbach attends a street singer performance in the front garden of the hotel. Although the music is sentimental and of poor quality, von Aschenbach enjoys it, as passion tends to debase artistic sensibilities. Tadzio is there, but guarded by his governess and mother, who have begun to notice von Aschenbach's attentions. When the singer comes around to collect money, von Aschenbach asks him why Venice is being disinfected, and the singer denies there is a disease. The singers perform a final song that has the audience laughing, but von Aschenbach remains somber. When he notices that Tadzio has also remained somber, von Aschenbach wonders despairingly if the boy is reacting to his own facial expressions. Von Aschenbach sits up at his table long after Tadzio and the other guests go to bed. The next day, von Aschenbach goes to a British travel agency, where a travel agent finally tells him the truth. He says that a fatal Indian cholera had first moved east to China, west to Afghanistan and as far north as Moscow. It moved along trade routes, showing up in some Mediterranean cities including Palermo and Naples. In mid-May it hit Venice, but the cases were kept secret by the government, for fear of disturbing tourism. The travel agent urges von Aschenbach to leave Venice immediately. Von Aschenbach imagines warning Tadzio's mother, although he has never spoken to her, but decides to collude in the secret and say nothing. He has a bad dream that night, filled with fear and desire as he watches a savage crowd dance and howl to the music of a flute, and joins them in worship of what he terms the "strangergod." He wakes up unnerved, and sees that most guests have fled the hotel. However, the Polish family remains, and von Aschenbach imagines everyone else might die so he can be left with Tadzio. Von Aschenbach wishes to please Tadzio, and therefore begins to add colorful touches to his clothing. Next, he goes to the barber, who dyes his hair black, curls it, plucks his eyebrows, and adds makeup (rouge) to his face, to make him appear younger. Von Aschenbach is pleased, but confused. A storm wind begins to blow and the air turns humid. Von Aschenbach feels feverish. He trails Tadzio around Venice, and although the boy looks back and realizes what von Aschenbach is doing, he does not tell his family. When he loses track of the Polish family, von Aschenbach buys and eats some overripe strawberries and finds himself in the same square in which he had decided to leave Venice a few weeks earlier. He sinks down on the steps of a well in the middle of the square, and dreamily talks aloud to Phaedrus, a cipher for Tadzio. He argues that although artists try to renounce the abyss of moral degeneracy, they are still drawn to it. He concludes that he will go and "Phaedrus" will remain, and when "Phaedrus" no longer sees him, then he will go too. A few days later, von Aschenbach leaves his hotel to go for a walk and suffers from dizzy spells. He sees a large amount of luggage in the hotel lobby, and asks who is leaving, although he already seems to know the answer. He learns that the Polish family is leaving after lunch. He sees Tadzio playing with his friends, who are stronger than he is, but less beautiful. Jasiu defeats his friend in a wrestling match, driving his head hard into the sand. Von Aschenbach is about to rescue him when the other boys stop Jasiu. Tadzio walks away, and looks back at von Aschenbach, who sets out to follow him. Minutes later, people rush to the aid of von Aschenbach, who has slumped in his chair. That same day, the world learns of the famous writer's death. AnalysisIn the final chapter of a tragedy, inevitability catches up with the protagonist. The gap of dramatic irony between the reader and the protagonist is closed somewhat, as von Aschenbach accepts certain facts he had been denying. Von Aschenbach begins to be more honest with himself about his false Platonic ideal, and begins to pursue Tadzio as an idol. Moreover, he becomes the rouge wearing older man in search of youth that he so despised on the boat trip to Venice, when he changes his appearance to please Tadzio. The representation of Venice, which has been uneasy throughout the novella, takes a decided turn for the more sordid. Von Aschenbach describes it as a labyrinth, the presence of the water making it a mysterious and somewhat sick place. Of course, the city is literally sickened by the onset of the cholera epidemic, and von Aschenbach's earlier description of it as a "tourist trap" rings true. If the Venetian authorities were honest about the medical state of the city, a quarantine would be imposed and von Aschenbach would not be able to leave anyway. Ultimately, Venice traps von Aschenbach, becoming the city where the famous man buys overripe strawberries, contracts cholera, and dies. The leitmotif of the sinister stranger appears for a final time in this chapter. The street singer who performs at von Aschenbach's hotel is reminiscent of the stranger in the graveyard and the gondolier. The singer also wears a specific hat, has large Adam's apple, and reddish hair. This death's head or Grim Reaper figure has become increasingly ominous throughout the chapters, as he moves physically closer to von Aschenbach and is available for more extensive conversation. The street singer is accompanied by the smell of carbolic acid, a germicide that foreshadows von Aschenbach's death. The British travel agent's realistic description of the spread of the disease pins down the vague sense that fate is out to get von Aschenbach. The description of the Ganges Delta resonates exactly with von Aschenbach's original dream in Chapter One of a dense and dangerous jungle. He is destined not only to die in Venice, but to die of this exotic, tropical disease. By reading backwards, this original dream finally takes its proper significance. The ending is slightly anti-climactic. In three short sentences, Thomas Mann brings us out of the claustrophobic world of the hotel in Venice, and widens the scope to the entire world. Von Aschenbach's personal history is finished, and the secret of his moral degeneration dies with him. Strangely enough, his public history remains unchanged, despite his experiences in Venice. His artistic reputation remains unharmed, and the world mourns the loss of a great author, and no more.
ClassicNote on Death in Venice
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