Amfortas and the Knights of the Holy Grail in Parsifal

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Book Length: 71 pages

Richard Wagner is one of the greatest names in the history of music. Despite the apparent hatred which has led the opponents of beauty, goodness, and truth to assault and obscure his legacy, his genius remains with us and inspires all who have encountered his work. Yet of all his operas, Parsifal—his very last—remains relatively obscure. Quite likely, it is on account of the ultimately Catholic nature of this work.

Though the interpretation I will voice in this review has been challenged by some, this challenge is not at all new. The challenge in question presents an interpretation of the opera which evades or even attempts a subversion of the evidently Christian tone and symbolism found within; that Parsifal is in reality crypto-Buddhist, or even humanistic at the core. In fact, Oliver Huckel, the author of this retelling—though not a Catholic—addressed such claims all the way back in 1903,¹ more than a century ago:

The criticism has sometimes been made that the basic idea of Parsifal is Buddhistic rather than Christian; that it is taken directly from the philosophy of Schopenhauer, who was perhaps as nearly a Buddhist as was possible for an Occidental mind to be; that the dominating idea in Parsifal is compassion as the essence of sanctity, and that Wagner has merely clothed this fundamental Buddhistic idea with the externals of Christian form and symbolism…But no one who reads carefully Wagner’s own letters in the time that he was brooding over his Parsifal can doubt that he was trying in this drama to express in broadest and deepest way the essentials of Christian truth. Christianity has no need to go to Buddhism to find such a fundamental conception as that of an infinite compassion as a revelation of God.

(xi-xii)

In order to prove this point more excellently, he did not merely make this gesture towards Wagner’s letters, but directly quoted from them in his defense of Parsifal being fundamentally a Christian story. These excerpts will be reproduced in their entirety, not only for the sake of elaborating Huckel’s argument, but also for the edification of the reader, given the moving language utilized by the Bayreuth master in describing his view of Christ:

The founder of the Christian religion was not wise: He was divine. To believe in Him is to imitate Him and to seek union with Him….In consequence of His atoning death, everything which lives and breathes may know itself redeemed….Only love rooted in sympathy and expressed in action to the point of a complete self-destruction of self-will, is Christian love.

Wagner’s Letters, 1880, pgs. 270, 365, 339 as quot. on pg. xi

Profound insights indeed! Jesus Christ was no mere “wise man” as Socrates was—much to the displeasure of Thomas Jefferson, Friedrich Nietzsche, and falsifiers of similar stripes. Rather, He was (and is) truly the Son of God! And as will be further uncovered in this review, Wagner illustrated his idea—an idea surprisingly evocative of the language of the Saints—through this magnificent opera.

Even in light of this information, one may correctly point out that Wagner made anti-Catholic statements in his essay “Religion and Art”. To the charge that this therefore must disqualify any Catholic interpretation of Parsifal, however, is simply false. As strange as it is, sometimes the authentic meaning of an artist’s work must be viewed in contrast to his or her stated beliefs. For example, Mark Twain’s book Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc is considered one of the finest works ever written about the Maid of Orleans, and continues to be read and enjoyed by many Catholics without scruple. The strong Catholicism of that work is evidently present, despite the fact that Twain himself was virulently anti-Catholic throughout his life. Parsifal, as I will prove, must be read in a similar light.

To avoid tearing the veil of this masterpiece to those who have not had the chance to experience it, a paraphrase of the plot will not be given. Instead, the symbolic meaning contained within merely some of the scenes of this opera will be explored.

In Act I, the knight Gurnemanz leads Parsifal—who is, unknown to both men, the foretold “guileless one”—into the magnificent halls of Monsalvat castle. Huckel renders this scene beautifully:

At length they reached the noble pillared hall

Within the castle of the Holy Grail,

For here the sacred feast was always kept,—

And here were gathering the blessèd knights.

Clothed were they in tunics of gray-blue,—

The color of the softened light of heaven,—

With mantles of pale scarlet, flowing free,—

The very tincture of the blood they served,—

And on the mantles snow-white soaring doves,

The symbol of the Holy Spirit’s gift.

And with a solemn joy they took their place

Along the tables of communing love;

The while from the great vaulted dome above

Came ever-growing sound of chiming bells.

(21)

It is here that the audience experiences the mystical ceremony of the Knights of the Holy Grail for the very first time—much like Parsifal himself. These knights are under vow to guard the sacred grounds of Monsalvat (lit. “Mount of Salvation”) and the woods which surround it. Holy indeed is this Grail from which Our Savior supped; therefore these religious men must defend it from evildoers such as Klingsor, for as Jesus tells us, “the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent bear it away” (Matthew 11:12).

On this point, it is worth stepping outside of the world of legend and allegory in which the opera so masterfully immerses us to reflect how relics such as the Grail have suffered attack from heretics in the real world. In the heartbreaking case of the image of Our Lady of Aparecida in Brazil, a heretic actually succeeded in vandalizing this gift of Heaven; in another saddening incident, a communist in Mexico threw an explosive at the image of Our Lady of Guadeloupe, but thankfully failed in his outrageous aim. There are many other similar cases, but there are also other cases in which a relic had to be transported in order to avoid a potential assault from the malice of the infidel. Relics are attacked because they are symbols of Catholic doctrine and because they are real physical objects upon which holiness has left an imprint. Alongside such holy things, the virtues in which holiness consists in must therefore be defended both by individuals and by societies.

The guardians of the Grail—notably, as will be seen, many of whom are indicated to be boys—are therefore reminiscent of altar servers. Their clothing symbolizes this, especially with the mention that their “mantles of pale scarlet” are “the tincture of the very blood they served.” The “chiming bells” in the monastic setting of Monsalvat’s halls are akin to the bells the servers ring during the Holy Sacrifice; and as at Mass, Monsalvat’s bells are rung to announce Mysterium Fidei. Huckel’s text continues:

The voices of the boys sang soft and low:

“Take ye, and drink My blood,

In vow no death can sever!

Take ye, my body eat,

In love to live forever!

Remember ye My life and love,

And raise your hearts to Me above!”

And as the verse was ended, came a ray

Of dazzling light upon the crystal Cup,

And filled it with a radiant purple glory.

And with it came a streaming splendor down

That flashed a lustrous beauty all around.

And King Amfortas, with a brightening face,

Upraised the Holy Grail, and gently waved it

Its glory to all sides. And all did kneel,

And raised their eyes in joyous reverence

Toward that bright glory in the darkened room.

…

Then King Amfortas placed the Cup again

Upon the altar-table of the shrine,

And it was covered with the crimson cloth.

And from the silver flagons of the wine

And the baskets of the sacred bread,

New consecrated by the Grail’s own light,

Each knight received his portion gratefully,

And all sat down to eat the feast divine.

Then Gurnemanz did beckon to the lad

To come and eat. But he was amazed,

And silent stood, nor heeded the kind word.

(26-27)

The “ray” is representative not only of God’s grace, but also the great descent that occurs at the Holy Sacrifice, wherein Christ comes forth to be received by His faithful in hidden form. Since the earliest centuries, light has always been a favorite means of Catholics to convey the presence of God; indeed, our church architecture has been heavily influenced by this very idea. Thus, the deployment of light in this scene is unsurprising. Yet, Wagner’s usage of this Christian “trope”, if it may be termed as such, does not appear cliché in the slightest—the imagery fills one of good will with a sense of perennial vitality, not the deadening which is brought on by sentimentalism.

What gives these knights the strength to be faithful to their mission? It is not the sight of the Grail alone, no. Rather, it is from their partaking of the “sacred feast” that they derive their strength, as their song alludes to the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St. John, with its insistence upon the reception of the literal Body and Blood of Christ. Amfortas raising the Grail, and the kneeling in response to this act is evocative of what occurs during the Consecration at Holy Mass. Instead of being instantly changed, however, the wine and “sacred bread” undergo transubstantiation once the “ray/Of dazzling light” is reflected upon them by the Grail. Discrepancies such as these are understandable, given that symbolism is not always exact. But the intentionality in this portrayal is clear—even the word “consecrated” is utilized here to describe the bread and wine, which in this context can only take on a Catholic meaning.

This ceremony, then, is a symbolic representation of both the Consecration and the rite of Holy Communion, key parts of the Mass. But as the knights are figures of altar servers who assist at the “sacred feast”, Amfortas is a figure of a sinful priest, for he cannot receive of the blessed banquet which the others are free to. Parsifal’s quest to find the Holy Spear, therefore, is a path of self-denial that he must undergo as the “guileless one” to redeem Amfortas. This young man is not a stand-in for Christ; rather, one of the many things his character illustrates to us is the need for other members of the Mystical Body of Christ to aid our ailing brethren. However, the childlike innocence of Parsifal is soon attacked by those who would rather wish to see Amfortas despair and the Grail lost, not by arms of war, but by arms of impurity.

Without purity, there can be no self-denial. This truth lies at the core of Parsifal’s message, which is wonderfully illustrated by the course of its plot. Unlike in many modern works of art, here purity is shown as the heavenly virtue it is, while impurity is shown in all its negative ugliness. In fact, a large part of why Nietzsche despised this opera was on account of this particular point, though he had beforehand been an admirer of Wagner. Many modern critics who follow this logic; they recoil from the light, because they have loved darkness.

In contrasting the scene in which Parsifal witnesses the previously mentioned ritual of the Holy Grail at Montsalvat in Act One, to his encounter with the flower maidens in Act Two, the chasm of difference between purity and impurity become all the more apparent. In Monsalvat, the knights are men of dignity and religion. Their character and their awe-inspiring ceremony work together to draw the utmost admiration out of Parsifal, to the point that he finds himself utterly transfixed. However, when he meets the flower maidens, hirelings of Klingsor who defeat knights by seducing them, he is transfixed by another kind of innocence: he is unaware that they are trying to ensnare him!

He discerns them, and manfully denounces their trickery:

Begone, false flowers, ye cannot snare my heart!

(40)

These “flowers”, therefore, are like the religious knights of Montsalvat in a certain sense—but they are entirely unlike in another, because as the maidens are false, the knights are true. As the devil apes the things of God, so too does Klingsor attempt to ape the heavenly atmosphere of Montsalvat. The songs of the knights uplift the souls of their hearers, and prepare one to receive the Bread of Life; the songs of the maidens lull the souls of their hearers into a stupor like the sirens of Greek mythology. By means of the parallel characterization of these two groups, Wagner is telling us that freedom comes from living in the love of God, whereas slavery comes from living in the malice of the Evil One. The one is marked by self-sacrifice and self-denial, while the other is marked by sacrificing others for oneself and self-indulgence.

Inspiration, then, can be found in this work to pray for and live in the holy virtue of purity; the Mass and the Eucharist will aid us, as (among many others that could be cited) the eminent St. Alphonsus wrote:²

As for Holy Communion, it is well to remember that this heavenly Food affords us great strength to resist temptations. The precious Blood of Jesus Christ which we receive in Holy Communion is called a “wine springing forth virgins.” (Zach. 9:17). Earthly wine is a snare for chastity. This heavenly wine is its preservative.

The 12 Steps to Holiness and Salvation (96)

In closing, all Catholics should read the text of this opera, and watch or listen to a performance of it. Young men in particular should do so, for its healthy spiritual romanticism and exhortation to virtue will impress them deeply. This work glorifies the truth and reveals lies in the brush of legend—legend being powerful, it will thus imprint salutary lessons in our imaginations, and will motivate us to become better Catholics.

1. He was an American Congregationalist. See for reference:

   https://archives.upenn.edu/exhibits/penn-people/biography/oliver-huckel/.

   It is also worth mentioning that while Huckel’s translation is not a literal one, he made it after “…a very careful study of the German text of Wagner for essential meanings, and after an appreciative hearing of the great drama itself, on two occasions, at Bayreuth” (xiv). Moreover, he informs us that his retelling was made “…to give a cumulative impression, the spirit of the words, music, and mystic meaning, blended together in one story and picture” (Ibid).

2. This excerpt is lifted from The 12 Steps to Holiness and Salvation From the Works of St. Alphonsus Ligouri published by TAN Books.