50 pages • 1 hour read
Vladimir NabokovA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Cincinnatus C. is sentenced to death and dragged back to the fortress, where his jailer, Rodion, fumbles with the keys. Cincinnatus’s lawyer, Roman Vissarionovich, is waiting inside the cell, but he asks to be left alone. Inside, he paces back and forth, then sits at a desk and writes on a blank sheet of paper, claiming to have had “premonitions of this finale” (13). He crosses out his words while Rodion watches through the peephole. Cincinnatus is the only prisoner in the fortress. Later, Rodion offers to dance a waltz with him. He agrees and they waltz into the corridor, past a nameless masked guard and back to the cell.
As evening approaches, the fading light illuminates a chart on the wall that lists the rules for the prisoners. Cincinnatus takes stock of his cell, which features only a table, a chair, and a cot. After dinner, the prison director, Rodrig Ivanovic, visits. As he questions why Cincinnatus has not eaten his food, he begins to eat the “bowl of coagulated stew” as Cincinnatus watches (15). Cincinnatus wants to know when he will be executed but Rodrig claims not to know. All he can say is that, soon, Cincinnatus’s “fate-mate” will arrive. The execution will happen sometime after. Rodrig solemnly reads a document that promises to provide all possible comforts to his prisoner before the “severance of the head” (17). Cincinnatus is dismissed. He wanders to a courtyard then out of the fortress, passing a series of silent guards. Eventually, he reaches the nearby city and wanders the familiar streets. He reaches his own house and imagines his wife, Marthe, and their children inside. When he enters the house, however, he finds himself back in his prison cell.
Cincinnatus wakes up from this dream and, lying in the dark, evaluates his “situation.” He thinks of Marthe, remembering the sight of her in court during his trial. Cincinnatus remembers the trial and the judge’s words as he was sentenced to death. In the distance, the clock strikes an “unknown hour.”
Rodion brings the morning papers to Cincinnatus’s cell. The papers report on his trial and feature pictures of his family and his house. The story describes Cincinnatus’s life: He is “the son of an unknown transient” who grew up in an institution (23), meeting his mother only in his 20s. All his life, he has been “impervious to the rays of others” (24), and, as a result, he has been forced to learn how to feign humanity when around others. He has spent his life dealing with the suspicious scrutiny of others as he searches for one of the rapidly diminishing safe places. His opacity has caused others to shun him.
In spite of the difficulty of his life, Cincinnatus does not want to die. At 15, he began working in a toy workshop. Each evening, he read voraciously in the library. In the factory, he met Marthe, his future wife. In his cell, he stands on his table beneath the window and tries to look out, but he sees “nothing.” A previous prisoner has written a comment on the wall saying that those inside the cell “cannot see anything” (29). Rodion warns Cincinnatus that he might fall. He helps Cincinnatus down then begins to sing. The song brings tears to Cincinnatus’s eyes. Rodion leaves.
At 22, Cincinnatus became a kindergarten teacher and married Marthe. Not long after beginning his new job, however, he was accused of “basic illegality.” He was interviewed and tested by the city fathers. Eventually, he was released and permitted to continue working with children with disabilities as they were deemed “expendable.” Marthe was not faithful to him; he forgave her infidelity but wept alone in the bathroom. She became pregnant with two children; Cincinnatus was father to neither child but, since they were born with disabilities, they were both placed in his kindergarten class. One day, a person accused him of being “a strange, almost forgotten word” (32). He was arrested a short time later. In his cell, Cincinnatus imagines himself dissolving and immediately reassembling. He is brought a dozen yellow plums, “a present from the director’s wife” (33).
A “doomlike din of voices” wakes Cincinnatus in the morning (34). He hears his lawyer talking to Rodion, Rodrig, and Rodrig’s daughter, Emmie. Roman nervously complains that he has lost a cufflink. Cincinnatus explains that he is being tormented by “wretched specters” and asks Roman to explain why no one will tell him the time and date of his execution. Roman is annoyed by this line of questioning, as he wishes to focus on whether Cincinnatus has any “more “legitimate” requests. When Cincinnatus tears up the envelope containing bureaucratic documents, Roman nearly cries. Rodrig politely lets himself into the cell and hands Roman his missing cufflink. Rodrig tells Cincinnatus that he has good news: Soon a new prisoner will arrive and Cincinnatus will have someone to “entertain” him. They tell Cincinnatus to put on his dressing gown so that he can be taken upstairs.
Rodrig and Roman lead Cincinnatus through the prison. They walk in circles, passing “the very same design of dampness on the wall” multiple times (41). Emmie bounces a ball in the hallway. Cincinnatus is led up a long dark stairway to a broad terrace with a “breathtaking view.” Cincinnatus gazes over the city, the gardens, and the hills. He walks around the terrace until the director tells him to go inside, whereupon the same men lead Cincinnatus back to his cell.
As Rodion carries a tray into Cincinnatus’s cell, Emmie slips in past him. She waits until Rodion leaves then reveals herself. She runs around, making mischief, refusing to answer Cincinnatus’s questions about the time and date of his execution. An older girl, he hints, would help him escape from the fortress by feeding “potion to the turnkey, on a night that is murky” (47), but she continues to ignore him. Rodion returns and kicks Emmie out of the cell. She pauses briefly in the doorway to look back at the prisoner. Cincinnatus explains to his jailer that he has finished all his books. He would like to look at the library catalogue to choose something to read. Rodion scoffs and exits the cell.
Cincinnatus paces up and down his cell. Feeling distressed, he examines the walls and the decor. The list of rules makes little sense to him, describing the two hours in the afternoon when prisoners should be quiet and detailing how prisoners are only permitted to sing along with guards by “mutual consent”—and, even then, only at certain times. Pleasurable dreams are also prohibited. As Cincinnatus flicks through an old magazine, he is reminded of the “legendary days” of the past and those “years of universal fluidity” (50). Little has survived since those days, Cincinnatus thinks; “even the very concept of ‘past’ has changed” (51). Cincinnatus scribbles his thoughts on the blank piece of paper. If he knew the date of his execution, then he could at least work on something. Instead, he indulges in “banal senseless dreams of escape” (52). He describes the memories and experiences that he would write down, if only he knew that he would have enough time to do so.
Cincinnatus walks around the cell until Rodion enters with soup, accompanied by the librarian and the prison catalogue. The librarian refuses Cincinnatus’s invitation to sit and talk and refuses to take away the books that Cincinnatus has already read. Cincinnatus reads the confusing catalogue; the titles are listed “according to the number of pages in each” (55). On the first page, a child has drawn a series of images in pencil.
The opening chapters of Invitation to a Beheading introduce Cincinnatus C. and the society he inhabits. This society is totalitarian in nature, seeking to impose authoritarian rule on its citizens while demanding subservience. Cincinnatus is detached, alienated, and unwilling to fall in line. However obscure his crime may be, there is never any doubt about Cincinnatus’s guilt. He is necessarily guilty because of his idiosyncratic refusal to subsume himself to the demands of the state. This attitude is on display in his first days in the fortress, during which he annoys his jailers by asking awkward questions and refusing to be upbeat and optimistic about his situation. Not even Cincinnatus questions the ruling against him. He criticizes the absurdity of the judgment itself, but he has accepted that he is not a suitable citizen. “Gnostical turpitude,” as a charge, is inherently meaningless. Instead, Cincinnatus’s real crime is rejecting the state’s authority; the charge of gnostical turpitude is merely a smoke screen for the brutality of the state. Because he refuses to conform, the state seeks to erase him from existence, beheading him in public as a demonstration to other citizens of what happens to those who do not adhere to expectations.
As well as portraying the horror of Cincinnatus’s immediate situation, the opening chapters provide biographical details about his life. To this point, Cincinnatus’s entire existence has been an exercise in tragic failure. He is not a happy person and never has been. He grew up as a ward of the same state that now seeks to execute him, experiencing firsthand the intrusive and demanding reality of the state’s Irrational Bureaucracy, a key theme in the novel. In truth, Cincinnatus has been caught in this absurd bureaucracy for so long that he does not question its latest intrusion.
Cincinnatus’s marriage has been a string of upsetting realizations, as he comes to recognize that Marthe cannot and will not be faithful to him, and Cincinnatus is trapped in a relationship to a woman who constantly betrays and undermines him. Life for Cincinnatus has been a constant barrage of misery, failure, and betrayal, right up until the moment when he is sentenced to death. His alienation from society is understandable in this context, as neither the society nor the people he supposedly loved have ever cared about him.
Amid the chaos and confusion of life in prison, Emmie’s presence stands out. She is Rodrig’s daughter and she is seemingly permitted to do whatever she pleases in the fortress. The large, imposing building symbolizes the power of the state, and Cincinnatus’s life within its walls is merely a heightened version of the reality he has always known, with its absurd demands and expectations of compliance. Yet Emmie moves freely through the fortress, undermining its legitimacy and introducing another key theme, The Duality of Life Under Totalitarianism. The same system that has imprisoned Cincinnatus and sentenced him to death is subject to the whims of a child. Cincinnatus’s life under totalitarian rule is full of such dualities, which the narrative often exploits for comic effect. Cincinnatus tries to turn this absurd situation to his advantage and recruit Emmie into rescuing him, but she is as indifferent to his requests as she is to the authority and legitimacy of the prison. Emmie’s presence forces Cincinnatus to reckon with the bleak senselessness of his confinement.
By Vladimir Nabokov