Music is a Choice!

In order to understand the complexities of Richard Wagner’s The Ring Cycle, it is crucial to understand his political and ideological leanings. The operas, despite their fantastical elements and mythological storylines, are explorations of Wagner’s real-world politics. They are a reflection of Wagner’s deep-seated Nordicistic and anti-Semitic views, as well as his struggles with German cultural and artistic aesthetics of the time. The operas explore his obsession with a new world built on anarchy and, ironically, maintaining tradition. 

He romanticized an early mythical Germanic culture, and idealized “German Art” created by the “German Folk” as an expression of the true “German Spirit.” At the same time, he despised modern German leadership, referring to them as the “German princes,” and critiqued liberal policies in regards to Jewish citizens. He believed that the proliferation of Jewish art and music flourished because Jewish individuals controlled the country’s wealth and power, not because of Jewish talent or skill. Rather, he believed that Jewish people were fundamentally unable to create real art due to an inherent “lack of passion.”

Das Rheingold and the Origin of Corruption

Although less popular than the other operas, Das Rheingold is just as symbolically dense and meaningful. As you follow the journey of the ring, from its creation to its place in the creation of Valhalla, a story about the origin of corruption in German society begins to form. Alberich transforms from a villainous dwarf of mythology into an embodiment of Wagner’s anti-Semitic beliefs, and the gods become caricatures of modern German aristocrats and artists. While watching this opera, it is essential to remember Wagner’s history with political dissent, his interest in anarchy, and his staunch anti-Semitism. 

As we watch Alberich being teased and degraded by the Rhinemaidens, we can think of the opening of Wagner’s essay, “Judaism in Music,” in which he criticized liberals of the time for demanding policies that accept Jewish citizens into German society. He claimed that despite everything, the Jewish remain foreign to true German culture and that incorporating them into the “German Folk” is impossible. He believed that European languages and cultures “have remained to a Jew a foreign tongue,” and therefore, the Jewish were fundamentally incapable of assimilating into Nordic spaces.  Just as Alberich is teased by the promise of love, he believed the Jewish were falsely promised a place within the “German Folk.” They are both true outsiders to the societies in which they attempt to place themselves in. By attempting to assimilate, they, as Wagner contends, have corrupted and degraded the virtue of the societies in which they enter. 

Alberich, then, renounces love and becomes a passionless creature and creates the ring. Wagner contended that Jewish people were unable to create real art due to an inherent “lack of passion,” but their artwork proliferated, nevertheless, due to their wealth and power within German society. He ascribed a seeming decline in “true artwork” to an obsession with utilitarian practicality and artificial luxury. The ring is a means to power rather than an expression of passion, and therefore, it becomes a fundamentally utilitarian creation. It is creation commodified, the very essence of Kunstwaarenwechsel, or the art-bazaar.

From there, we watch as the ring grants Alberich the power to enslave his own people in favor of wealth and power. When he curses the ring to inspire greed and jealousy within others, he unleashes a promise of corruption onto the world of the opera. We have established Alberich as a manifestation of negative Jewish stereotypes, and through these scenes, we find hints of the Jewish conspiracy. The ring also becomes a symbol of Jewish wealth underpinning the exploits and achievements of German society. Through subjugation and greed, the magic helmet Tarnhelm is created. If we turn to the real world and look through Wagner’s eyes, Jewish money has brought about both great advancements in science and technology, as well as led to a constant force of corruption within politics.

After Wotan takes the ring from Alberich, he uses it to pay the giants for their labor in building Valhalla. The sacred hall, being built upon this cursed ring, becomes a symbol of commodified art and a German society held up by the corrupted wealth of the Jewish. When the Rhinemaidens make their reappearance in the end, they condemn the gods and declare them false and weak, however, these cries fall upon deaf ears as the gods continue their journey up into Valhalla. The Rhinemaidens, at least in this moment, come to represent what Wagner believed to be the dying “German essence.” We see this warning being issued to the gods and can understand this, in some ways, to be Wagner issuing a warning to us, the audience, about the threats he believes that the Jewish create to his ideal and “pure” Nordic society. 

Die Walküre and the Fallibility of Law

Die Walküre, at least within the 21st century, is perhaps the most famous of the operas. Its most well known piece, Walkürenritt, or Ride of the Valkyries, has found a place in films, cartoons, and online media. While Das Rheingold concerned itself more with the corruption of gold and the Jewish conspiracy, this opera begins a more in-depth exploration of Wagner’s issues with the limitations of codified laws as, what Bernard Shaw calls, the “Godhead”. Wotan, himself, draws his powers from the contracts and laws he instates, leaving him with great influence and equally great limitations. The opera focuses heavily on the incestuous relationship between siblings Siegmund and Sieglinde, however, it is Wotan’s actions that explicitly reveal Wagner’s political ideas.

As act one unfolds, you may begin to feel as if the story of this opera is fairly disconnected from the story of the first opera. There seems to be no characters in common and the themes stand in near stark contrast to Das Rheingold. The first act is about love even beyond cultural morals while the first opera began with a renunciation of all forms of love. It is only in act two that the purpose of act one begins to take shape. 

In act two, we learn that Wotan is the father of the siblings and intends for Siegmund to become a “free hero,” but is unable to help his son in a fight that will lead to his death. Wotan sings, in a fashion closer to a spoken soliloquy than an aria, about the despair he finds himself drowning in due to his own power. His power is based upon his role as both the creator and enforcer of contracts and laws. How, then, would he be able to break free from a contract he himself has signed? He finds the answer in a theoretical “free hero,” a person who has the ability to operate outside of Wotan’s laws and will act against Wotan’s wishes. However, in an attempt to create such a person, he has interfered with their life and, therefore, they can no longer be free of Wotan’s influence. Paradoxically, the more he wishes for a free hero to exist, the more he hinders the existence of one.

If we look into the real world, we find these strict boundaries and strange loopholes within law all the time. Since perfect and uniform morality cannot be telepathically forced onto anyone, laws must be written. However, laws are imperfect manifestations of conceptual morals. A written law leaves no room for nuanced circumstances. In order for laws to have meaning, they must be applied to everyone within a nation and, therefore, the existence of a free hero cannot exist without undermining the authority of lawmakers and leaders. 

Similarly, if we turn towards the artistic world, as art and politics are often closely intertwined in odd ways, we can find a similar concern with artistic and musical laws. In “Judaism in Music,” Wagner finds problems with the music world’s insistence upon strict rules on what makes good music. As audience members and scholars, we may ponder this ourselves. If following predetermined structures, such as accepted chord progressions or strict counterpoint, what separates good music from great music? If a composer is able to follow all of the rules set out by music critics, are they a better composer in comparison to the composer who writes whatever they want with no regard for structure? If the rules of music exist, then it is possible to judge and critique music with some form of objectivity, but it limits the evolution of new styles. If the rules of music are completely disregarded, then there seems to be no way to quantify the talent and virtuosity of great composers, and they lose their brilliance.

Of course, Wagner, a notorious anti-Semite, came to a strange conclusion regarding the rules of music. He accused Jewish composers and musicians, most notably Felix Mendelssohn, of imitating the passionate works of non-Jewish composers, such as Bach, and selling it to audiences as great art. He believed that this preoccupation with rules is what allowed Jewish composers to thrive. 

Throughout the opera, we are introduced to Brünhilde, Wotan’s faithful daughter and embodiment of his will. We watch her seemingly disobey Wotan’s orders to not interfere with Siegmund’s fight, leading to her punishment. However, in doing so, she is carrying out Wotan’s true will and indirectly becomes some sort of free hero. It is her disobedience that allows Sieglinde and her child to flee to safety. But in the end, the truth of Wotan’s power catches up to both him and Brünhilde, and he is forced to punish her for her disobedience.

Let us say we were to compare Brünhilde to a character trope, we could say that she is, in many ways, a vigilante. She is an individual who takes justice into her own hands by helping Siegmund. However, unlike a free hero, she is not above the law, she just briefly acts as a false authority figure in the defense of justice. She is unable to escape punishment despite acting in a way that carries out Wotan’s true will. If we were to look around in our society, such characters do, indeed, exist. Individuals who commit crimes that many may argue are not morally corrupt, such as a mother stealing baby formula or an abuse victim killing their abuser. These acts are certainly illegal, but there are a fair number of people that would agree that the crime’s perpetrators committed no real, moral crime. However, these people are still subject to the laws and protocols of the nations in which they live. As we discussed above, written laws dislike the existence of grey areas of morality. Of course the mother stealing baby formula is not an inherently bad person, but in the eyes of the law, theft is still theft. If laws are to maintain their power, they cannot be written loosely. The law must be written as “theft is illegal,” rather than “theft is illegal, unless in special circumstances. . . . and in the case of. . . . or if the lawmakers feel bad for the perpetrator.” 

Again, if we look to the art world, similar problems arise. If you are a student of music taking a class on counterpoint, you can turn in work that disregards the rules of music theory, but you will be given a failing grade. What if the professor still likes the piece that was submitted? If the professor allows one student to pass their counterpoint class with a piece containing no counterpoint simply because they liked that student’s music, they would lose their authority as a professor of music. If we turn to history, these artistic outsiders often made great advancements and created new genres, however, they were often looked down upon by their contemporaries as a result. We can consider jazz, which is now greatly respected and even studied within dedicated academies of music, as it was originally dismissed by influential, white scholars. Laws and contracts exist in order to ensure a standard of morality, but they often contradict that morality because they are imperfect representations of an idealized and collective system of ethics. Brünhilde, now, becomes a representation of the true intentions of written laws. She is the embodiment of the will behind laws that have been distorted through policy-making.

Siegfried as the Germans

The third opera, Siegfried, introduces the story’s true free hero. Siegfried is the biological son of Siegmund and Sieglinde, and the adoptive son of Mime, Alberich’s brother and forger of the Tarnhelm. With the first opera setting up the origin of corruption and the second opera exploring the limitations of law, this opera finally begins to discuss Wagner’s anarchical ideals. Wagner, as we have previously discussed, had a particular interest in the concept of a glorified “German Folk” and “German Spirit.” If Alberich and the dwarves are representations of how Wagner viewed Jewish citizens of Germany, it stands to reason that Siegfried represents a “true German,” who is inherently repulsed by the Jewish. Siegfried, the free hero, becomes a manifestation of Wagner’s romanticized “German Spirit” and tradition. 

The first act revolves around the relationship between Siegfried and Mime. As the act begins, several leitmotifs associated with the dwarves and Alberich’s ring are referenced. We soon learn the reason for Mime fostering Siegfried and Siegfried’s distaste for his adoptive father. Since Siegfried is unaware of Mime’s selfish reasons for raising him, his hatred seems to be unfounded. This hatred can be understood as a clear reflection of Wagner’s conceptions around anti-Semitism and Jewish hatred. He writes that there is an “unconscious feeling which proclaims itself among the people as a rooted dislike of the Jewish nature.” He believed that regardless of one’s awareness of the Jewish conspiracy, a conspiracy which he believed to be fact, if they are truly German, they will find themselves repulsed by the Jewish.

Upon learning that Siegfried is destined to kill him, Mime realizes that he must instill fear into Siegfried if he is to live. While Siegfried re-forges Nothung and sets out to find Fafner, Mime prepares poison. As Siegfried waits for Fafner to appear, he hears a songbird and attempts to communicate with it using his pipe. It is not until after he has slain Fafner and tasted his blood that he becomes able to understand the call of the bird, who leads him to where Mime and Alberich are fighting over the ring. Despite the ring’s curse, Siegfried is unable to understand why the two dwarves are fighting so passionately over it, and with the power of Fafner’s blood, Siegfried becomes able to read Mime’s mind. Realizing that Mime was using him and intended to poison him, he stabs him. In the final act, Siegfried meets Wotan, who questions him. Unaware of the god’s identity, Siegfried mocks him and breaks his spear, the symbol of Wotan’s authority and power, allowing him to pass through the ring of fire surrounding Brünhilde’s rock, where she has been put to sleep as punishment.

We have established Siegfried as a representation of Wagner’s “German Spirit,” and the dwarves, Mime included, as representations of negative Jewish stereotypes of the time. We should consider the role of Fafner in the first opera, Das Rheingold, and his role as the guardian of the ring in this one. He can, perhaps, be thought of as an anthropomorphization of a dying “German Spirit” within the common, working class of Germany. Just as the giants accepted the cursed ring as payment for their labor by the gods, the working class of Germany accepted the money, which Wagner regarded as corrupted by the Jewish, of the “German princes.” Thus, Siegfried, the embodiment of “German Spirit,” must overcome the influence of modern capitalism, which has been created and propagated by Jewish money. While watching Alberich and Mime fighting, Siegfried is unable to understand the allure of the ring, proving that he is free of the curse. In this way, Siegfried is a free hero for both Wotan and the curse of the ring. He, as the true “German Spirit,” is free from the allure and control of the German princes and cycle of capitalism. Furthermore, as the manifestation of anarchy, Siegfried is also free from the limitations of law set in place by an overlording “Godhead.”

We, as the audience, can understand the defeat of Wotan and rescue of Brünhilde as Wagner’s hope for the future. A new generation of “German Folk” who are able to overcome the modern, capitalist establishment and understand the morality behind laws without the need for codification. The defeat of Wotan, who is the embodiment of the laws created by the German princes and policymakers, represents the overthrow of the modern government of Wagner’s time, and a return to his romanticized ideals of folkloric Germany. 

The Götterdämmerung of Modern Society

The final opera, Götterdämmerung, serves as the fated and necessary conclusion to the allegory: the total destruction of a society that has become commodified. At the same time, this opera is, in many ways, drastically different from the rest of the cycle. It seems thematically closer to a romantic drama than a grand reimagining of Nordic folklore. It is a story of deceit, doomed love, and tragedy. The characters seem to lose their symbolic meaning.

Siegfried, once the symbol of the “German spirit” and the hope of rejecting capitalism, falls victim to the lies of Gunther, leading him astray throughout the opera. His character loses its integrity and transforms from an anarchist hero to an operatic tenor. He forgets his love for Brünhilde and falls in love with Gutrune and, in doing so, pledges loyalty to Gunther. The main plot of this opera hinges on Siegfried deceiving Brünhilde in order to bring her to Gunther for marriage. 

In order to start unraveling what these changes in characterization could possibly symbolize, we must first start with who Gunther and Gutrune represent. In our introductions to these characters, we find out that Gunther is being advised to find a wife for himself and a husband for Gutrune by their chief minister, Hagen. However, as the two are unable to win over Siegfried or Brünhilde on their own, they use a potion to manipulate Siegfried and force Brünhilde into marriage.

Gunther is handed great power as his father’s successor as the king of the Gibichungs, however he seems unable to properly wield it. If we look into Wagner’s beliefs, we find that he blamed the leadership in Germany for corrupting the true “German Spirit” by embracing superficiality and materialism, and he writes “ there is no blacker ingratitude than the German princes’ treachery to the spirit of their people.” He believed them to have abandoned the “German Folk” in favor of materialistic past-times and the art-bazaar. Thus, we can understand Gunther and Gutrune as powerful, yet foolish German princes who have corrupted both the German Spirit and German art.

With the understanding of Gunther and Gutrune, we can now look at Siegfried. In the previous opera, he was the free hero who came out on top, and in this opera, he seems to have fallen from grace. However, if we continue to understand Siegfried as Wagner’s idealized, traditional German Spirit, we can understand this fall from grace as exploring the fragility of the German Spirit. In Wagner’s eyes, it is something that can and has been corrupted by German princes, the corruption of capitalism, and the commodification of art. When we learn that Hagen, who has orchestrated the drugging of Siegfried, is acting as a proxy for Alberich’s wish to regain the ring, we can connect this, again, to Wagner’s anti-Semitic views on capitalism. The free hero Siegfried is corrupted by Gunther who, in turn, is being manipulated by Alberich via Hagen. Of course, this can read as the German Spirit being lost due to the foolishness of the German princes who are controlled by Jewish wealth. Or in a reading that is more explicitly focused on the art world, true German art is being forgotten and overshadowed by the commodification of art via the art-bazaar, which has been put in place by the wealthy elites and Jewish artists. 

Brünhilde is the character that, although seemingly does not change, undergoes the largest symbolic transformation. She goes from a representation of resistance within the law into another free hero. Through grief, she is able to overcome the curse of the ring and is, ultimately, the one who signals for the burning of Valhalla. She becomes the embodiment of Wagner’s dreams for the future of Germany. Although a bit nihilistic, we can view this as Wagner saying that there is no way to return to a state of true German Spirit without tearing down everything and restarting. The commodification of art has already permanently altered our understanding of what it means to create, and thus, there is no way to return without completely destroying the system in which art exists. There is no happy ending for the free hero and no conclusion to Valhalla that is non-destructive. The Rhinegold can only be returned when Valhalla burns. 

Conclusion: Returning to Primordium

Richard Wagner’s The Ring Cycle is a complex and thorough critique of the German politics and art of his time. It can be understood as both a nihilistic and hopeful work. The emotions and concerns portrayed throughout the cycle are not foreign to people today in many ways. Many of his concerns, such as rampant capitalism, the commodification of art, and the failings of judicial systems, are still present today. At the same time, his blatant and profound anti-Semitism permeates his work. However, his ideologies are not rare. If we look at the state of current American politics, how often do we find MAGA supporters who share many of the same concerns as liberals, but place the blame on marginalized groups rather than systemic issues? How often do citizens who are seemingly political rivals agree on the basis of their concerns, but argue over the blame and effects of these problems? In this way, The Ring Cycle is just as complex as Wagner’s own beliefs and, in reality, the beliefs of many people in the world.