Germany鈥檚 real-life melodrama
Who was Richard Wagner, really? A brilliant composer who reshaped modern music? A wildly incoherent thinker whose muddled ideas contributed to the Holocaust? Or an insecure eccentric, a celebrity who slobbered over patrons, abused friends, and sometimes screamed if his guests talked to one another instead of to him?
The correct answer may be all of the above and that鈥檚 just part of what makes Jonathan Carr鈥檚 The Wagner Clan so intriguing a read. The rest of the allure derives from the Wagner family themselves. The book鈥檚 subtitle is 鈥淭he Saga of Germany鈥檚 Most Illustrious and Famous Family鈥� and saga is indeed the mot juste.
Take a backdrop of intergenerational intrigue, adultery, and betrayal. Toss in a spoiled orphan, a handful of opportunists, some Nazis, and a glamorous family business and you鈥檝e got the Wagner epic.
But Carr, a British journalist and music biographer (鈥淢ahler: A Biography鈥�) now living in Germany, prevents this story from sinking into the merely sensational. His nuanced account seeks to bring a fair balance to some of the wild charges associated with the Wagner story and at the same time offers a compelling account of Germany itself from the early 1800s on up.
Richard Wagner, was born in Leipzig in 1813. The Europe of that time was a turbulent place and he, it seems, never met a revolution he didn鈥檛 like. Between supporting unsuccessful insurgents and racking up debt Wagner was often on the run.
鈥淎 scoundrel and a charmer he must have been such as one rarely meets,鈥� wrote American composer Virgil Thomson, and so it would seem. When stability finally arrived in Wagner鈥檚 life it came by the grace of two somewhat dubious connections. One was his adulterous relationship with Lizst鈥檚 illegitimate daughter Cosima. This (once both had jettisoned their first spouses) turned into a lasting marriage, resulting in three children and Cosima鈥檚 lifelong devotion to Wagner鈥檚 legacy.
The other was the patronage of Germany鈥檚 King Ludwig II (鈥渢he mad king鈥�) who believed in Wagner鈥檚 genius and bankrolled his schemes, including building him an opera house in the small German city of Bayreuth.
There, Wagner was able to supervise the production of his own operas and stage his own festivals. When he died in 1882, the wily Cosima took control with their son, Siegfried, himself gifted as a composer and a director.
But when Siegfried, late in life, married Winifred, a young British orphan, she opened the door to an ugly chapter in family history. In 1923, after Siegfried鈥檚 death, Winifred fell hard for Adolph Hitler.
The Nazi leader was an avid enthusiast of Wagner鈥檚 music and soon became 鈥淯ncle Wolf鈥� to the family, cuddling and coddling Siegfried and Winifred鈥檚 four children (even their snippy little Schnauzer dog adored him) and enjoying regular trips to Bayreuth.
Carr debunks the notion that Wagner鈥檚 music had a special resonance for Nazis. (He points out that most of Hitler鈥檚 men sat through an opera only under orders.) But he does not deny either Wagner鈥檚 erratic antisemitism (he denounced Jews as often as he befriended them), Cosima鈥檚 virulent antisemitism, or Winifred鈥檚 unrepentant, lifelong infatuation with Hitler.
One of the most amazing aspects of the Wagner story 鈥� given the family鈥檚 close ties to Hitler 鈥� was the fact that, despite 鈥渄enazifaction,鈥� they regained control of the theater and the annual Bayreuth festival after the war. Since having regained that control, they鈥檝e quarreled much over it (and great-grandson Wolfgang鈥檚 57-year tenure as director draws plenty of fire) but there鈥檚 no denying the festival鈥檚 success: There is a 10-year waiting list for tickets.
It makes an astonishing coda to a remarkable tale.
