45 pages • 1 hour read
Rainer Maria RilkeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
If, as Brigge believes, he is "destined for the worst" (132), then he knows that his expensive clothes will not help him. King Charles VI of France, he notes, was legendarily filthy and diseased but still remained the king. When King Charles VI was capable of moments of sanity, he was filled with a "benign consciousness" (134). His courtiers distracted him from actually ruling with books, games, and paintings. In this fashion, Charles VI was able to ignore the travails of popes, rival kings, and murderous lords, as these are issues that "overtaxed his mind" (134). Due to these constant distractions, the king's body and his kingdom became diminished.
Brigge finally steps out of his rooms and walks through the streets of Paris. He runs into a very tall man who seems to be in distress and decides to help. When Brigge approaches, however, the man seems threatening, so Brigge runs away down an empty street, his head filling again with stories and figures from the history of France. He imagines King Charles VI beings surrounded by shadowy figures who push him slowly outside.
In France, Brigge notes that much has changed. Thinking about the need to remove false adornments in search of authenticity, Brigge visits a Roman-era amphitheater. The staging of a play and the architecture of the theatre make him think about God. He laments that both theater and religion are almost gone from the modern world, in which "everyone has his own individual ideas and anxieties" (139) rather than a communal experience. He thinks about the nature of theatre and the actors who now seem "denuded of the façade of a character role" (140).
Brigge begins to think about women. Women who are loved, he says, "live a miserable life and are constantly in danger" (140), which they can only overcome by becoming women who love. Brigge thinks back to his youth, speculating with the audience about times when he was keen to be happy and eager to embrace the spring but felt instead a deep dissatisfaction. Brigge imagines an elderly eccentric who takes delight in reading to the young women of the town where Brigge was raised. The old man lives vicariously through these young women, and he loves one in particular who he is much taken by, but he resolves never to tell her how he feels as she has the right to experience love on her own terms.
Brigge's thoughts returns to Abelone. He remembers a time in Venice. Amid the romance and the extravagance of the Italian city, he studied the people in love. They are in love with each other and the city, so much so that their talk of leaving inevitably results in them delaying their departure. Beneath this dreamlike, romantic Venice, Brigge glimpsed the real city. The real Venice is brittle and caught in the immediate present. Walking through the city, stunned that no one else has noticed the artificiality of Venice's romance, Brigge saw a woman who seemed strikingly Danish to him. Brigge watches as a crowd implores the woman to sing in German or Italian. When she sings with her "remarkable simplicity, like something inescapable" (145), she reminds him of Abelone. Brigge has long puzzled over why Abelone did not dedicate her energy more towards God. He wonders whether she changed in her later years, though he knows that such a change would have made her suffer.
Brigge reflects on the biblical story of the prodigal son. He frames the story as the story of someone who is loved, rather than someone who loves. Being so loved, the son feels trapped by his family and feels forced to leave. When he escapes briefly into the garden, he dreams of being an adventurer where he has no obligation to satisfy people's love for him. After a birthday party at which his family gives him "badly chosen birthday presents" (148), the son leaves home. He takes his inheritance and spends it in search of someone he can love. While searching, however, he forgets the real meaning of love. He even forgets how to love God, particularly after his inheritance is spent and he is forced into poverty whereupon he understands "God's utter remoteness" (149). Eventually, he decides to return home. Appearing at the house, where time has passed, he threw himself on his family's mercy and allowed them to love him again. The son offers up himself to be loved by the family, accepting that this is his role. That his family does not understand the burden this places on him, Brigge believes, is a relief. Their love has almost nothing to do with the son, who believes that the only person who can truly love him is God, even though God is not yet willing to truly love him.
Brigge's notebook is a document describing his search for meaning in the world. Brigge records everything, from his interactions to his memories, in an apparently futile attempt to convey the impossible complexity of life. With each entry, Brigge is less satisfied. The more he documents the world and the more he shares his memories, the more he realizes that he will never truly be able to comprehend the nuances of existence, nor convey these nuances through his words. As such, he goes searching for new avenues of understanding. Toward the end of his book, he looks to history for precedent. The story of Charles VI, for example, is an example of Brigge immersing himself in history in the hope of understanding his present. Just as he did with his memories of his childhood, he hopes the past will provide a better understanding for his contemporary suffering. Given the chronological distance from the life of the king, however, Brigge cannot hope to understand everything about Charles. The hundreds of years that separate Brigge from the diseased king make any attempt to truly know Charles VI doomed from the outset. Yet Brigge's continued attempts to do so show how desperate he has become. In effect, he is Charles VI, struggling to overcome his ill health and assert dominion over his world. Brigge dwells on the story of Charles's pained, tragic life not only because he desperately wants to understand the world but because he can sympathize with the struggles of the king.
Another example of Brigge's increasingly fitful search for meaning in his world is his trip to the Roman amphitheater. The amphitheater is even older than the story of Charles VI, suggesting that Brigge is delving even deeper into the past to try to find something substantive to say about his current predicament. Furthermore, he has physically removed himself from Paris to facilitate his search. Even in this new location, however, Brigge does not find what he is looking for. He casts a suspicious eye on the other people in the room, viewing them with suspicion because they seem to be searching for something very different. To Brigge, they are tourists. They are pursuing novelty and entertainment when he is searching for substance and meaning. Through their existence, they ridicule his search. Through their happiness, they exacerbate his misery. While Brigge can look at the stage of the amphitheater and imagine his position in the history of the world, these tourists make his attempts to do so seem fleeting and meaningless. That Brigge himself fears that his pursuit is fleeting and meaningless only compounds his annoyance. Brigge does not know or talk to the tourists. Rather, he projects his own insecurities on to them. They become the stage on which he examines his own anxieties, a theater within a theater. That Brigge does not like what he sees may be the reason he does not dwell on his memory of the amphitheater and why his entries and his thoughts immediately return to Paris.
The final entries in Brigge's notebook concern the story of the prodigal son. The story is taken from the Bible and Brigge retells and recontextualizes the story, projecting on to it his own views about love, obligation, and God. To Brigge, the prodigal son suffers silently when he is with his family. They love a version of him that he does not quite see as himself. He lives his life as this person so as to make his family happy but doing so has a bad effect on him. Eventually, he cannot take living the false life anymore and he leaves home. After living a life of authentic poverty, the prodigal son decides that he preferred his previous life. Being loved by others was better, even if it meant embracing an inauthentic identity. The son prefers to be loved by his family and to facilitate their love rather than to love himself. The story has a touch of tragedy for Brigge. He is alienated from society, and he no longer has any living members of his immediate family. Even if he wanted to embrace an inauthentic identity and return home, there is no one left to love him. Brigge explores the story and sees within it many reasons to bolster his beliefs but, in doing so, he reveals to himself that he is stuck in an impossible position in which he may never be able to be loved again.
By Rainer Maria Rilke