SATURDAY 19 AUGUST: WORMS, CITY OF THE DRAGON
The Nibelung myth will be the subject of my paper and presentation for class. Why? Not only because it has been an interest of mine for many years, but also because the city of Worms, just down the Rhein from here, has its yearly Nibelung festival, the focus of which is a giant theatrical presentation, in the month of August. And since Bayreuth (the Wagner festival) is too far, and sells out too soon, I decided to attend the show in Worms.

Worms is where the ancient Nibelung myth became grafted on to history. There was a tribe here called Burgundians in the 5th century; in 437 C.E. they were nearly wiped out by the Huns under Attila. True historical fact. (The survivors fled farther west and settled in what is now France, i.e. Burgundy.) Somehow this incident became part of the Nibelung myth, known in Scandinavia as the Volsung Saga. The defeat of the Burgundians was turned into an act of vengeance for the murder of the hero Siegfried, the Dragon-Slayer. "Worm" or "Wurm" is an old German word for dragon; the city must have been named because of this association with the hero. It was the Burgundians of Worms that murdered Siegfried, according to the legend, so perhaps poetically this was considered the dragon's revenge. (I wonder what the settlement was called in the 5th century. The name Worms must have come much later.)

The primary source for the German version of the saga is the "Nibelungenlied", written early in the 13th century, but based on older sources. The unknown poet of this work chose to set the action, or most of it, in the city of Worms as it existed in his day, with the huge Romanesque cathedral, built 200 years earlier, being specifically mentioned. This cathedral still stands today; it is a major focus of the city, and the Nibelung Festival play is performed outdoors on its south side, with the cathedral itself looming imposingly in the background.

Because the play is done outdoors, it does not start until 9:00 (special lighting effects require darkness to be seen). And it lasts nearly four hours. The last train back to Mannheim leaves at 10:30, so I will have to stay the night. Fortunately, there is a Youth Hostel right across the street from the cathedral.

The cathedral is ground zero, for the city, for the play, and for my visit. I go there first to look for some kind of box office; I have to pick up my ticket, which they promised to mail to me but never did, presumably because I paid for it less than a week before the show (wish they had let me know). The actual box office is closed in the morning, but after asking around I find the office where tickets are kept prior to the box office opening. That done, I am just in time for the back-stage tour of the theater area. Bleachers with 2,000 - 3,000 seats are set up facing the broad south lawn of the cathedral, where the stage has been erected. Without the constraints of walls, it is perhaps the biggest stage area I have ever seen. All of it temporary: the show runs for three weeks; in another week and a half it will all be taken down.

After the theater tour I explore the cathedral itself. Consecrated in the year 1018, it had been begun some decades prior. It has perhaps not been cleaned often enough, because it has a darkness to it, a sooty quality, inside and out, that gives it a certain grim appearance in spite of the architectural beauty. It is a fitting location for the tragedy of Siegfried and the Burgundians. It hits me as I walk around inside that this is the oldest building I have ever been in. A thousand years. Nothing in North America is that old; nothing in Berlin is that old.

[Some days later I remember that this cathedral is in fact not the oldest building I have been in; the Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza in the Yucatan are older still. But of course they are no longer in use.]

There is a wedding in progress as I walk through the cathedral; the size of the place is such that the entire wedding party, including guests, fits comfortably in the area around the main altar, leaving the rest of the building free for tourists.

Later in the afternoon there is a city tour that focuses on the remnants of the Nibelung legend, so there is more about the cathedral: the famous scene where Kriemhild and Bruennhilde have their big fight actually is supposed to have taken place at the north door of the cathedral, not on the south side where the play is being done. Legend has it also that Siegfried is buried in the vicinity (although other places make the same claim), and in a little plaza outside a remnant of the old city wall there is indeed a burial mound. But it was erected only a few years ago, just to give tourists something to look at. Worms has decided to make the Nibelung saga a focus of its tourist trade, which is why they commisioned the play to be written.

They must have a big budget, because the show is fully professional. The author Moritz Rinke is apparently well known here, and the artistic director, Dieter Wedel, has made movies and TV shows. The actors are some of the best in Germany, and it shows. It is in fact one of the finest theatrical presentations I have ever seen, combining high tech (e.g. the use of film) with solid theatrical techniques.

But it is the script that is most interesting; this is not a musty old legend with medieval robes and rhyming couplets. The heart of the story remains, but the author has asked what it has to say to us today. Many, though not all, the costumes are modern, and the script makes references to the state of the German nation, both today and in its recent past. This is a play about the German people; Siegfried and Bruennhilde are foreigners who come to Germany to meet their doom. Strangers in a strange land. (I wish I had understood more of the dialogue; I would love to have a copy if they ever publish it.)

Note for future reference: This year the play has been expanded and cut in half. This summer only the first half was performed: this part ends with Siegfried's death. Next summer the second half will be performed: The Fall of the Burgundians. Perhaps I will have to extend my stay here into next August.

A violent, soaking thunderstorm came through about 6:30, while I was having a light dinner. They cancel the show in heavy rain, but I wasn't worried because the weather here can turn on a dime. Sure enough, it is clear by 9:00, and the rain has cooled things off. It is a good thing I brought a sweater.

And one of the sweetest things about this evening: the outdoor equivalent of the lobby/concession area is in a small park between the cathedral and a nearby museum, and it stays open, with food and drinks available, for an hour after the end of the show. There is also live music, but it is suitably mellow and actually quite nice. The place is lit by torches, the leaves on the trees are still glistening with the wetness of the earlier rain, but stars are shining beyond them above the ominous bulk of the cathedral. I sip Rhein wine in the cool of the night, a magical summer night in a land where once were dragons.

SUNDAY --- Only today, after a peaceful night in the hostel --- I had no roommate! --- do I have time to visit the Nibelung Museum. It's a good thing they are open today when the rest of the town, it seems, has shut down. Actually, even yesterday, except for the market plazas and the pedestrian zone near the cathedral, much of the city seemed deserted, in spite of the festival. It's August: vacations?

The emphasis in the museum is on the "Nibelungenlied" itself and its various adaptations over the centuries. References to Wagner, Fritz Lang, and how the Nazis twisted the story to their own ends. Mostly audio-visual presentations. The museum is contained within a section of the old city wall, also a thousand years old, I think, and contains towers that overlook the plaza where Siegfried's (fake) burial mound is.

Then I walk over to the Rhein itself, much wider here than in Mannheim. I don't even take the time to walk all the way across. (The bridge itself, in spite of the old gate at one end, is quite modern. And the gate, in spite of its appearance, turns out to be only about 100 years old.) And up the riverbank from the bridge is the statue of Hagen throwing the Nibelung treasure into the Rhein. (The Hagen of the Nibelungenlied is quite different from the one in Wagner, not so much of a villain, although he is still the killer of Siegfried.) This Hagen gets rid of the treasure voluntarily, to ward off the evil it might cause. But to no avail. Getting rid of the treasure doesn't save him or his brothers.

A final walk past the cathedral, looming darkly on its hill above the city, and on to the Bahnhof and back to Mannheim, where I immediately sit down and finish my paper for class, putting in insights from the play. I turn it in the next day.