“Hurray for women,
hurray for wine!
The substance and glory of humanity!”
The substance and glory of humanity!”
My first taste and experience of Mozart’s famous (and equally
infamous) opera Don Giovanni was Joseph Losey’s adaptation on the small screen.
I was certainly impressed by the music but somewhat shocked, baffled and
initially appalled by the behaviour of its famed eponymous protagonist also
known as Don Juan. The plot was confusing due to his many conquests of the
past, present and future, while all the while, my wife and I were hoping he
would eventually come to his senses and see the light. Yet the light he sees at
the end ended up being of a very different kind.
For the most part, I was hoping for any shreds of
regret or redemption, yet that did not occur. But what bothered me most upon my
first viewing was the general lack of feeling and empathy by this sex-crazed and
obsessed womanizer. I myself tend to have a certain affinity with such characters
(in fact, I have written a novel in which the protagonist is a skirt-chasing
poet) and I had re-imagined this Casanova-type character as more sensual and
life-affirming and imbued with poetic sensibilities, but none of that was on
display here.
Instead Don Giovanni was portrayed as a vain,
narcissistic sociopath who collected and bragged about his innumerable female
conquests as if they were medals and trophies. As Leporello, his servant, at
one point attests, his master had slept with over a thousand damsels, a number
that may seem physically dubious (if not impossible), but that may be achieved
if Don Giovanni indeed had several sexual exploits on each given day of the
year over the span of various years.
It was on my second viewing of the same opera, this
time performed live on stage with the UBC Opera ensemble that I got to
re-evaluate my feelings about the character and the opera as a whole. Where in
my first viewing every character seemed devoid of love and care, on this second
and more intimate encounter, I noted various moments of true feeling and
passion, but again none of it emanated from its protagonist. In a way, I saw
him less as despicable, but more as a suffering and wanting individual who
simply could not come to grips with his own directionless desires and that is
when the metaphor of unbridled capitalism crossed my mind.
In fact, Don Giovanni and the unscrupulous capitalist
share the trait of having a voracious appetite, the former for women and the
latter for money. In Giovanni’s case, women are fully objectified; they are
stripped of feeling and sensibility; he merely notes the superficial skin-deep
differences, such as height, hair color, nationality and standing. Oddly
enough, not only are his interests exceptionally wide and all-inclusive, he
fancies all types of women, the short, the tall, the young, the old, the
beautiful and the ugly alike, but he also has an overall disregard for social
standing.
He pursues noble women with the same vigor than a
country wench and this makes him surprisingly democratic in his choice. But
that is also disconcerting. By having no specific types and by setting himself
no preferences, he is after Woman in all shapes and disguises. It is a lust
that knows no bounds and has no aim whatsoever as he desires every woman and
every possible aspect of her. In Kierkegaard’s mind, this quest serves to
enhance every woman’s beauty, but in my view, in Don Giovanni’s obsessive,
reckless and egomaniacal search, he ends up both denigrating and humiliating
femininity.
In fact, he is the glutton that relishes in all types of dishes
that he can get his hands on, and yet, he is never satisfied; he never
relinquishes his desire nor does he alleviate his itch and since he does not
fulfill his need, he is on a constant quest. The combination of his
unscrupulous and relentless desire to conquer and by extension shame and
dishonor women everywhere is akin to an amok serial killer on the loose who
targets and endangers all and every woman everywhere; as a result, anything
remotely feminine becomes his immediate prey.
In his appetite for money and possessions, the
money-hungry and greedy capitalist is essentially not that different from this cruel
womanizer. Those types of capitalists also can never find satisfaction since
there is no set point at which their needs are fully met. In this vicious
cycle, the more money he has, the more he wants, and it is certainly not a case
of the more, the merrier; in Don Giovanni’s situation, his lust for women
entangles his soul, and like quicksand this plunges him deeper and deeper into
the dark abyss below.
The avid consumer is a pale reflection of either one
of them, but she also is consumed by her desire of buying and consuming stuff,
only to replace a given item with another object along the way. As none of
these people know what they exactly want and have no limits in their voracious
but never fulfilling or satisfying appetites, they are not unlike the hungry
ghosts who are destined and cursed to forever roam the earth.
Yet Don Giovanni’s appetite is not limited to women.
The final scene of the opera combines three of his carnal passions: food, wine,
and women. On their own and in adequate scoops and measures, each and every one
of those passions are perfectly palpable and acceptable, but it is in their
unlimited consumption that they become damaging to one’s physical, emotional
and psychological health and well-being.
What Don Giovanni furthermore lacks is conscience. He
recklessly engages in endeavors that endanger people’s relationships, social
regard as well as their lives. For instance, he abuses everyone, including his
servant Leporello whom he beats and then pays off with money and who is nearly
killed; for Don Giovanni’s single-minded amusement, they switch clothes, and
the servant is mistakenly taken for the master and barely escapes with life.
Don Giovanni is continuously and consistently
heartless and unrelenting; he kills the Commendatore without remorse, he
seduces the country woman on her wedding day literally in front of the jealous
eyes of the groom and later promises to marry her, which is a blatant lie.
Although he previously jilted Dona Elvira, he continues to play around with her
feelings, giving her hope where he has no intention whatsoever to follow it up
with deeds. Every person is like a puppet that he twitches, turns and
humiliates to his liking and desire, and he has no perception of consequences
or the damage and hurt that he inflicts on them. Life is a series of games made
to entertain him and destined for his personal pleasure only.
It is with adamant conviction that this narcissist sticks
to his ideas of absolute entitlement and he never repents for his misdeeds. There may be
something heroic about the fixed stance of never betraying his so-called
ideals, by not wavering nor succumbing to others, not even when he is about to
be dragged to hell by the Commendatore, but since his ideals are so devoid of feeling
and happiness and cause nothing but pain and suffering to others, this posture
becomes tragicomic in itself. Like an avid gambler, he puts all his money on
one single number and that one always comes up empty, but he does not seem to
realize or care about that.
And yet, there is so much potential and so many
opportunities that cross his path. He could put his wealth, standing and charm
to good use and find a person to love, but all his sexual experiences are so
mechanical and devoid of any genuine feeling that he can never find pleasure. He
simply uses his exploits for bragging rights; he shows off his many conquests
to gain esteem both within himself as well as from others. This is not unlike
the super-wealthy who fight for the Forbes’ list of the wealthiest person on
the planet by sporting inordinate sums of money in their bank accounts.
They use their possessions to impress others, and this is of little benefit for
anyone involved, including themselves.
As such, they have no fidelity, but they are all
steadfast in their steadfastlessness; tirelessly and listlessly they try to
conquer the world for their own pleasure and benefit. Along the way, they take
advantage of others and they prize what has little intrinsic value; it could be
money, which is merely a symbol of wealth but not wealth itself, possessions
which are merely lifeless objects, or even sexual exploits, which are
experiences that do not and cannot on their own provide lasting happiness but
only temporarily fulfill a void. Such sexual experiences do not consider nor take
into account the other person’s feeling or pleasure, and as a result, they leave
both parties empty and without joy.
But women do not come off lightly here and in Mozart’s
opera they are not merely victims. The husbands are protective, often jealous
and even ready to avenge the wrongdoing to their loved ones, but the women
appear to relish the attention and praises heaped on them by the charming and
sweet-talking Don Giovanni.
For instance, the country wench has a choice of
rejecting him and keep in mind this is on her wedding day with her husband-to-be
right next to her, but then she eventually falls for Don Giovanni because of
his looks, of his mastery of the art of seduction but perhaps more so because
of his promises of wealth and social status his loose tongue heaps upon her.
She is naïve in believing and hanging onto his words since she takes them as genuine
and respectable emanations out of a mouth of a true and noble gentleman; in this way, Mozart
also slyly makes fun of the dishonest upper classes of his times.
All things considered, although Don Giovanni has
everything any man would want, money, standing, good looks and women, he is not
brimming with life and joy; his face is pale and troubled, and yet, he is always
wearing a mask. Deep inside, he is
as dead as the Commendatore that comes to fetch him. And in his stubborn
blindness and refusal to look truth and himself in the face, Don Giovanni does
not recant, his time is up, and he is forever doomed.
2 comments:
This is a wonderful piece, Arash, because it gives so much to brood over. I found Joseph Losery’s film on YouTube, listened and watched a bit, then ordered it from my DVD rental company. Revisiting your post & my own thoughts, I cancelled the order. The protagonist sounds monstrous and hard to believe. I’m glad the other characters, excluding Don Juan himself, attracted your sympathy on watching it performed live. What is the point of a work of art without sympathy & empathy; except to those young people who seek depictions of horror and violence, regardless?
It makes me wonder why: why Mozart and the company of musicians and audiences have esteemed this work over the centuries, when it appears so unpleasant and unrealistic. Certainly there are womanisers, and unless they are rapists and murderers there is a symbiotic relationship between the seducer and the seduced: much the same indeed as between the capitalist and the consumer, the populist political leader and those who support him.
For this reason I see it as untrue to life, if the character of Don Giovanni is singled out in this way. Indeed I would call it a scapegoating exercise to exonerate not just the seduced but the opera audiences too: virtue corrupted, all the fault of an evil man.
Natalie D’Arbeloff wrote a delightful comic book , “The Joy of Letting Women Down”, I wrote about it here: https://rochereau.wordpress.com/2019/03/19/the-unfairness-started-with-adam-eve/ —which I think was much truer to life; or if you prefer, psychologically more accurate
Hey Vincent,
Glad my post has elicited some brooding over! Well, my assumption is that part of the charm of this vain narcissistic seducer is that he is a buffoon, which is why I designated it all as tragicomic.
In its own way, the opera is darkly funny and the humor can escape one on the first viewing. I felt in a somewhat similar way about Yorgos Lanthimos' absurd film The Lobster, which shocked me for the main part, but I could sense a mischievous humor lying there. Although I don't think I could bear watching that film a second time ... perhaps at a later date I shall endeavor to do so.
But Mozart is a genius. His music is to swoon and die for and he has always struck me as mischievous. Perhaps not as silly and exuberant as in Milos Forman's wonderful film Amadeus, but perhaps somewhat more in the vein and spirit of Falco's Amadeus song and video. Apparently, Casanova himself attended Mozart's opera, and I would not be surprised if he had given some advice and tips along the way of how to depict a womanizer.
In the end, Don Giovanni gets what he deserves and there is often a moral tagged on in the scene after his chilling descent to hell. It is rather astonishing and quite postmodern that Mozart did not allow his character to repent and that he did not give him a saving grace. I did not sympathize with the character, but I appreciated (perhaps even envied) his craft, the way he used words and gestures to take advantage of his surroundings, both men and women.
I have heard that there is an interpretation of the opera, which depicts Don Giovanni as an older man who is trying to stay afloat and keep up his prowess. I do not think that would be in Mozart's conception, but it would even further accentuate both the tragic as well as comic aspects in that case.
Personally, I would recommend the somewhat sunnier (though it still has some cloudy parts) Magic Flute. And I would recommend you see Ingmar Bergman's version of it (if you have not already done so), which is rather brilliant. My only problem with Bergman is the odd decision of having them sing in Swedish; I would have much preferred the original German version, but it's still astounding.
Thank you for the link and that book looks quite interesting! I shall acquire it perhaps at a later date as a sort of manual for my son. I myself have always fantasized and imagined being the Worshipable Man but have consciously opted for the less popular Reliable Man as it rings truer to who I am. Or maybe I am merely deluding myself ; )
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