GUSTAV HOLST!S SAVITRI ELUCIDATED

EY HINDU THOUGHT

Scott Alan Landvatter

A thesis submitted to the faculty of The University of Utah partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of

Master of Music

Department of Music

The University of Utah

December 1984 Copyright© 1984. Scott Alan Landvatter

All Rights Reserved THE UNIVERSITY OF UTAH COLLEGE OF FINE ARTS

SUPERVISORY COMMITTEE APPROVAL

of a thesis submitted by

Scott Alan Landvatter

This thesis has been read by eac h member of the following supervisory committee and by majority vote has been found to be satisfactory.

Chairman: ^ M argaret Rorke

f r a y > 7 (j Bruce Reich

A / / / /W ------Jay Welch THE UNIVERSITY OF UTAH COLLEGE OF FINE ARTS

FINAL READING APPROVAL

T o the Graduate Council of The University o f Utah:

I have read the thesis of S c o tt A la n L a n d va tter______in its final form and have found that (1) its format, citations, and bibliographic style are consistent and acceptable; (2) its illustrative materials including figures, tables, and charts are in place; and (3) the final manuscript is satisfactory to the Supervisory Committee and is ready for submission to the Graduate School.

JQL . i , lM ___ ,______Date J Margaret Rorke

Chairperson, Supervisory Committee

Approved for the Major Department

— v-—^^------^ f Edgar Thompson Chairperson

Approved for the Graduate Council

-y------Y ^ - Keith Engar

Dean. College ofr rts ABSTRACT

Gustav Holst, throughout his life manifesting a rather mystic penchant, was, in his early career, quite taken with Hindu writings? it was as a result of his studies in Sanskrit that his chamber opera

Savitri, Opus 25, emerged in 1908. Based on a story in the Mahabha- rata, the one act opera tells of a devoted wife (Savitri) who, through unusual fortitude and pointed acumen, releases her husband (Satyavan) from the supposedly irrevocable call of Death.

While a detailed analysis of the work is fascinating in and of i t s e l f f disclosing important attributes of Holst*s compositional ap­ proach at a turning point in his creative life, such an analysis be­ comes much more valid when it sheds light on the aesthetic, artistic, and, in this instance, spiritual meaning of the piece. This is the purpose of the analysis undertaken for this study. Here, musical

sounds become symbols for ideas and broad philosophical concepts.

Motifs, themes, key and pitch areas, specific vertical harmonies, the use of choral parts and instrumental writing— all these serve to vitalize Savitri, Satyavan, and Death, revealing the three char­ acters, not as isolated physical entities, but rather as symbols themselves, paradigmatic representations of otherwise ineffable con­ ceptions.

As Holst1s opera successfully renders each character real and accessible to the listener, it thoroughly identifies them, distin­ guishing them musically from one another. Yet, just as Hindu scrip- ture itself, the opera functions simultaneously on numerous levels.

For as the music stylistically demarcates the dramatic personalities, it also unites them, a close theoretical scrutiny showing that, for all their differences, Savitri, Satyavan, Death, and even Maya, the goddess of illusion, are one and the same. Certainly, one of the most important aspects of Hindu thought is the notion of unity, of all divergencies being mere extensions of one omnipresence. And in

Hindu belief it is manfs eventual ability to recognize the mislead­ ing sway of seeming opposition and polarity that admits him at last into eternity and truth.

Such is the message of Holst's opera, a message that, for all its transcendence, is completely demonstratable in theoretical anal­ ysis, an approach which could be no more tangible and concrete. And by the concreteness of just such a cerebral approach, one validates not only Holst!s ideas concerning his opera, but also his overall notions as regards the arts in general: Art is at once physical and incorporeal, for in actuality any presumed division between the spir­ itual and the earthly is unreal, all is and must be one.

v TABLE OF CONTENTS

iv

INTRODUCTION 1

General Background ...... 1 The Tale of Savitri from the Mahabharata .... 5 Holst's Libretto ...... 10 Hindu Background for Holstfs Opera ...... 13 Maya ...... U Unity ...... 16 Summary ...... 2k Notes ...... 26

THE ANALYSIS ...... 33

33 38 Satyavan the Victim 43 The Mirror and the Nameless Unknown ...... 50 Maya— The Veil of Illusion ., 55 The Circle of Death ...... 68 Death Becomes Flesh ...... 75 S a v i t r i fs L u l l a b y ...... 81 Death and Love— Holiness and 90 Death the Blessed God ...... , 100 Savitri1s Song for Life . 119 136 151 155 164 175

CONCLUSION ...... , 181

The Character Complex ...... 181 184 Illusion or Reality ...... 187 The Pathway ...... 190 197

BIBLIOGRAPHY 198 CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION

General Background

The collection of books found in Holst's London studio after his death in 1934- reveals an interest in several subjects outside music. It was a small assortment, though, and suggests also that he was not inclined toward building any sort of personal library.

As his daughter wrote of him, "He had read a good deal during his life, but he had never owned a library, for books were things that 1 were either borrowed or given away .11 Any volumes which he did choose to keep, then, must have been important to him and, as such, would offer some insights into his personal tastes and beliefs.

One particular text, stacked among the novels of Hardy, translations of Greek plays, editions of English poetry and the like, was a copy of the Upanishads, one of the important bodies of Hindu sacred writing.

Holst's interest in Hinduism began in 1899, when he was first exposed to English translations of Sanskrit literature. He was twenty- five at the time. These writings, perhaps above all others, were to play an important role in his artistic and philosophical development, and in time became the fundamental material for a number of his com­ positions, Those writings which most attracted him in those early years were the poetic hymns from the Rig Veda, the oldest of Hindu 2 scripture, and the Bhagavad Gita, the epic tale of Krishna and Ar- juna, the warrior.

The collective philosophy of the Bhagavad Gita, especially as understood by Holst and thusly manifest in his temperament, is aptly capsualized in the words of his daughter: "The wise man, ac­ cording to the ‘Bhagavad Gita1, is fearless, and free from vanity, egoism, impatience, and the dread of failure. He is indifferent

to worldly ambition: he is just, pure, impartial, and ready to do whatever work is given him, without complaint and without any hope

of reward. He never finds fault with others, he is not jealous, and

he is unmoved by good or evil fortune. He is the same in friendship

as in hatred, and in pleasure as in pain. He cares nothing for prop­

erty, and he has no particular home. Praise and blame are alike to

him, and he never speaks unnecessarily. And he has reached under-

standing by long study and contemplation.M2

Holst never did claim attachment to any specific religion.

But, he absorbed the precepts of Eastern thought with the honest

enthusiasm and conviction for which he was well known. To him this

was no mere esoteric, metaphysical fancy. It was a way of life, an

approach to existence which was ever expanding in his thought and 3 which was forever apparent in the way he chose to live.

Within time Holst became dissatisfied with the available trans­

lations of the great Hindu works. He had desired to set some of the writings to music but found English renditions awkward and ill-suited for the task. Thus began his studies of Sanskrit, an endeavor that placed him as a student in the School of Oriental Languages in Lon­ don. He never became fluent, but firmly acknowledged that reading 3 in the original, even if laboriously done, afforded him a more thor­ ough understanding of the works. In addition, his labors did bear fruit musically; he wrote four sets of choral hymns and an early group of solo hymns using his own translations from the Rig Veda.

He also wrote his own libretto to his early opera, Sita, a roman­ tic drama based on the wondrous tale of Prince Rama and his remark­ able wife, Sita, a story taken from the Indian epic, The Ramayana.

Sita was begun in 1900 and completed seven years later after innumerable hours of painstaking work and consideration. His close friend, Ralph Vaughan-Williams, had faithfully given musical sugges­ tions, and other friends had helped with the notation and copying.

Thus, when he entered the piece in 1908 in the Ricordi Opera Compe­ tition and failed to win the prize, he was devastated. In later years he was to recognize the style of Sita as overly Wagnerian, lavish and quite uncharacteristic of his own musical voice. Still, at the time, the opera’s defeat was humiliating. He put the manu­ script away, never to be published or performed.^

Holst's next attempt at opera was in 1908, when he composed

Savitri, his opus 25. Savitri, too, was based on a story taken from

Sanskrit and, like Sita, its libretto was written by the composer.

The musical approach, however, was entirely different. While the three-act Sita was opera on a grand scale, Savitri was composed of one continuous act lasting only about thirty minutes. Holst himself referred to the work as 1 opera di camera*, and its short length as well as its minimal resources support the appropriateness of such a designation. There are only three soloists. The women’s chorus, which has no real dramatic significance and remains hidden k throughout, is only used for its timbral effect. The orchestra, also hidden, is not a true orchestra at all, but rather a small en­ semble consisting of a double string quartet, a contra-bass, two flutes, and an English horn. As Holst states that the work can be performed with or without a curtain and may even be played out-of- doors, it would follow that staging and costuming will most likely be unelaborate. The set, if the work is done outside, requires only one prop, a pathway running through a wood.

The composer based his libretto for Savitri on a story found in the Aranyakaparvan, or The Book of the Forest, the third major section in the large Indian epic, The Mahabharata. It is interest­ ing that each particular body of Hindu scripture displays a singular quality or religious tone which characterizes it from other Hindu scriptures. And that quality peculiar to The Mahabharata as a whole seems to be one of greater accessibility and practicality, in con­ trast to, say, the Upanishads, where concepts can be highly abstract and often incomprehensible to an inexperienced reader. Thus it is that broad principles of truth and being are frequently personified in The Mahabharata. Here, they assume the outlines of a concrete mythology wherein one encounters distinct gods and goddesses, priests and holy men, royalty and nobility, and other mortals and even ani­ mals representing varying levels of purification and awareness.

And as The Mahabharata is constructed as a magnificent epic, the lessons it teaches take on the form of tales and parables. The story of Savitri is one such tale, and though Holst altered some of its details in his rendering, it will be useful here to recount the original 5

The Tale of Savltri frorr. The Mahabharata

There was once a great and noble ruler, a devout and mighty observer of the sacred Law. He was wise and benevolent, and known by all who loved him as Asvapati, King of the Madras, one who had been blessed with much understanding and upon whom the gods had looked kindly. Yet, there was a misfortune which cast a shadow over his household; he was without progeny. Realizing that he could not fulfill the Law without heirs, he took upon himself special vows including the recitation of the savitri formula^ and the performing of oblations daily to appease the gods— all that he may be blessed with a child.

This Asvapati did for eighteen years, at which time the god­ dess Savitri, daughter of the Sun, visited the King and granted his wish. Time passed and Asvapati1s first Queen gave birth to a comely daughter, justly named Savitri after the goddess who had given her.

As Savitri grew her unexcelled beauty increased, as did the unusual depth of her wisdom and her devotion to the sacred Law. In fact, so exceptional was she that no man would dare take her in marriage, feeling unworthy of such a woman.

As Savitri was Asvapatifs only hope for posterity, this un­ fortunate situation troubled him, so much so that he determined that his daughter should leave the kingdom and seek a husband herself.

Whereupon Savitri, in obeisance to her father's desires, left and entered the grand Forest of Austerities. Here she met the famed

King Dyumatsena and his wife Saibya. Dyumatsena had once governed a vast kingdom, but with his advancing age he had lost his eyesight, and his enemies, recognizing an advantage, took possession of his 6 lands. The King escaped with his wife and his young son to the forest, where they lived in peace and in strict compliance with the

Law. It was the princely son, Satyavan, now grown, that Savitri chose as her husband.

When Savitri returned home, she found her father in company with the exalted seer, Narada, and thus before them both made known her choice. Narada, upon hearing Satyavanrs name, shrieked in dis­ may, for as a holy man he knew the fate that was ordained for the young man. For, though Satyavan was full of virtue and beloved of the gods, it was destined that in one year*s time he should pass from the earth and enter the realm of the dead.

Shocked by Narada1s words, King Asvapati pressed upon his daughter to find another for her husband. But Savitri, being full of integrity and a complete understanding of the Law, knew she could

not alter her decision. The choice had been made. And as with all choice, there must be loss as well as gain. So, seeing that the princess could in no way be turned from absolute accordance with the Law, the King set out with his daughter and the wedding party to meet King Dyumatsena in the forest, to join the woodland prince with the beautiful Savitri.

The days, the weeks, and the months passed, and Savitri grew to know much joy. The bond between herself and Satyavan became ever stronger, and her life with his family in the forest brought great peace and contentment. But forever in her mind, like the darkest of shadows incongruously cast at noonday, were the words of the seer, Narada, the foretelling of her husbandfs death. So it was, that a year of happiness passed quickly, and almost suddenly Satya- 7 vanls time had come. Three days before her husband was to die, Sa- vitri took upon herself an oath to stand erect, resolute and waking until the moment foretold. She ate no food and drank no liquid and remained as stone in one spot until the prescribed day had arrived.

At last the sun rose on that dreaded morning. The vigilant woman performed her libations to the fire and the sunrise, and when Sat- yavan raised his axe to enter the forest for the day!s labor, she followed him, knowing what lay ahead.

As the hours advanced the inevitable drew nearer and nearer, and finally Satyavan, grown sickly and fatigued from the cutting of wood, collapsed, his body motionless on the ground. Savitri ran to her husband*s prostrate form, and, as she laid his head in her lap, she looked up and noticed a tall and powerful figure standing in a saffron robe and holding a noosed rope in his hand. He was a beau­ tiful man who shone like the sun, yet still a man with an awesome countenance. And it was by this countenance that Savitri knew him to be a god and thus humbled herself before him as he began to speak.

"I am Yama. Prince Satyavan!s time has passed. But since he is a just and a good man and filled with the holy Law, I have come myself, 7 the Lord of all Dead. I myself shall take him away .11 With this pronouncement Death then extracted Satyavan’s soul from the life­ less body that lay on the ground. And the soul was small, like the size of Yama's thumb, and it was tied up in the noose as Death turned to leave.

Nonetheless, Savitri, being purified by her recent vow of fasting and vigilance and empowered by her love of the Law, fol­ lowed Death as he travelled the path to his own kingdom. And as 6 she walked along with Death, she spoke great things, revealing her goodness and her uncommon wisdom and perception. Death, exceeding­ ly impressed by her extraordinary insights, chose to reward her and was thereby moved to offer her the desires of her heart— all, save the life of Satyavan. So it was, that she requested sight for her father-in-law and the restoration of his kingdom, and also that her own father may be given one hundred sons to assure the survival of his line. So, Death granted all these things, bidding Savitri take her leave and return home.

Yet the woman would not go. She persisted with Death, con­ tinuing her espousals on truth and the Law, expounding upon the virtues of the ’strict 1 and the ’austere1, who were those who lived by the Law. At length, Yarca became so moved by her words that, in love and in deference to her astounding acumen, he bid her choose the ultimate boon, one without qualification, without restriction.

Instantly realizing the extent of Death’s offer, Savitri asked for the only gift that could have meaning to her. She appealed for her husband’s life, declaring that without him she herself would be as the dead. She could have no existence without him whom she loved.

Fully acknowledging her plea, Yama untied the spirit of Sat­ yavan and gave it to Savitri, saying, "Oh most wondrous of women, your wish has been met. Take the man which you have won and the heavens shall bless you and your husband with great posterity and all the world shall speak of you, as you will forever be an example unto all those who seek the sacred Law."

With this, Death departed as Savitri took hold of her husband’s soul, returning to where his body lay. When he revived, he remembered only that he had slept and in his dreams had beheld a powerful per­ sonage, both marvelous and terrifying. But Savitri knew. And the gods knew that an uncommon woman, though mortal, had averted what had been decreed by the heavens, what had been foretold as an in­ exorable fact. By and through the Law, she had made Law and had saved her husband from death.

This is how the account unfolds in The Mahabharata, certain­ ly with a number of details that could only prove superfluous in a one-act chamber opera. Holst1s libretto, therefore, provides a nice paring away of both characters and events. Only Savitri, Sat- yavan, and Death appear in the opera, and all the scenes involving other characters are omitted. But the composer's libretto is more than a condensation of the original story, for several changes and even additions have clearly been made for reasons other than sim­ plification. It is true that a libretto must meet the dramatic and musical intentions of the composer; surely certain alterations

Holst has made fulfill such practical ends. Nonetheless, a close look at the whole work makes it apparent that the composer had some­ thing very specific to say, something surpassing mere dramatic and musical content*

Holst had been studying Hindu writings for nearly ten years by the time he began work on Savitri. Thus he had a broad back­ ground from which to address the tale. He knew the full implica­ tions of the story, even those not outwardly expressed, whereas a reader not familiar with Hindu philosophy would not. Therefore, desirous that Savitri become a potent vehicle, not only for the ideas inherent in the story, but for a wider range of Hindu thought, 10

Holst constructed his own parable, so to speak, a rendition more able to communicate what he wanted to voice.

Holst's Libretto

Holst's opera begins on an empty stage. Death, from a dis­ tance and unseen by the audience, makes known his presence. It is an ominous presence, one which has tormented Savitri for quite some time. Shortly, she comes on stage, holding her hands over her ears to shut out the forbidding summons, the call for her husband, the omen of his imminent death. But it is useless, for she cannot escape that dark voice. She hears it at night, at midday. She hears it in the temple during oblations. For her, none else exists except that dread summons.

At this point, Satyavan joins his wife on stage, Death still hidden from view. Thoroughly unaware of what plagues Savitri, the carefree woodsman, with axe over his shoulder, sings of his day in the forest and of his joy in returning home to his beloved mate.

It is not long, though, before he notices her troubled mein. Con­ cerned, he inquires, "But thou art pale and trembling, What ails Q thee?" Savitri answers, speaking vaguely of the fears that be­ set her. Satyavan, still ignorant that it is the threat of his own demise which terrifies his wife, begins to sing of Maya, the sorceress of illusion, the creator of dreams and phantoms, the de­ ceptive goddess responsible for Savitri's present state of agita­ tion. But Savitri discounts her husband's conclusions, for she believes that she sees beyond Maya. She sees the awaiting doom that the blinding veils of illusion have kept from Satyavan. 11

-Seeing that his wife is not satisfied with his explanation,

Satyavan continues to question her. When she replies, "He doth come," still not specifically implicating Death, Satyavan lifts his axe in a fury, preparing himself to meet the, as yet, unknown enemy. In the midst of Satyavan1s courageous yet foolish outburst,

Death at last appears on stage, advancing slowly as the victim drops his axe and staggers, eventually sinking inanimate to the

ground. Savitri rushes to Satyavan and, taking him in her arms,

sings a lullaby of devotion, a song of love and unity between hus- 9 band and wife. But as Death draws nearer, her song becomes one

of guardianship, as if she had power to forestall what is predes­

tined. Her protective declarations are not allowed to continue,

however, for Death silences her, proclaiming himself and his

mission.

Now that the woman is actually in the presence of him whom

she has so feared, her panic gives way to a mood of respect; see­

ing that he is a god, Savitri greets Death with honor and reverence.

Indeed, the reception is such that the baneful visitor is caused to

take note of Savitri*s unexpected attitude of veneration, her wis­ dom and integrity, and the purity of her love. Moved by this ex­

ceptional mortal, he chooses to vouchsave her a boon, a gift that may include all except the life of Satyavan.

Savitri takes Death at his word and thus begins a most extra­ ordinary petition. With a passion and intensity that stands in no­ table contrast to the gravely austere tone set so far in the opera, she asks of Death a rather unwonted favor. She seeks of him the fullness of Life. Yet it is not simply the continuation of mortal­ 12

ity she longs for. It is an endless Life of love and service, of hope and triumph. And it is a Life of communion and unity, an ex­

istence wherein conflicts and opposing forces are resolved and re­

conciled. A state where "time and space are forgot, And joy and

sorrow are one.”

Greatly affected by Savitri and her suit, Death proffers the

gift of Life, Eternal Life in all its completeness. And by bestow­

ing such a gift, he grants that which Savitri truly wishes for most,

the life of Satyavan. For what has been given cannot be realized

if husband and wife are separated. Savitri cannot fulfill the Life

awarded her without Satyavan. Emboldened by her victory over what

the universe had foreordained, Savitri commands Death to return

alone to his kingdom. And as the dark spectre slowly withdraws

and disappears from the stage, Savitri approaches the body of her

husband. Kneeling by his side, she sings softly as he gradually

recovers.

Awakening, Satyavan is bewildered. Was there a threatening

stranger near? Or was it all a delusion, a wicked wile of Maya.

Convinced that he has been enslaved by an illusory dream, he looks

upon his wife and concedes that she alone is free from Maya, she

alone is real. Yet Savitri, knowing what she does, insures Satya­

van that the nature of her reality, her very substance and exis­

tence, is possible only through him. She helps Satyavan to his

feet, and, supporting him, they both exit.

The opera is not complete just yet, however. Death reenters, passing nearly unnoticed in the background, reappearing to deliver

some startling lines. Acknowledging that he has been conquered, 13 that he has been met by one knowing true Life, by one free from

Maya, Death proceeds to deny himself. He attests that Maya's power

is extensive, that illusion reigns not only in the mortal world

"where men dream they are living," but also in that other world

"where men dream they are dead." Thus Death himself is an illu­

sion, one of the most deceitful ploys of Maya. The phantom exits

for the last time, and again, as at the beginning, the stage is

empty, the final sounds being the distant unaccompanied strains

of Savitri*s lullaby, her song of devotion to her beloved Satyavan.

Hindu Background for Holst's Opera

Before attempting any in depth appraisal of Savitri, there

are some fundamental aspects of Hindu theology and philosophy which

must first be considered. And to determine which elements of In­

dian thought are most significant in the opera, one may begin by

noting how the story line in Holst’s libretto differs from the orig­

inal. As seen from the preceding synopsis, Holst has not only ab­

breviated the story, but has also made some significant adjustments

and additions. And one of the most obvious is the inclusion, so

to speak, of another character, one which, although not appearing

in the original episode, is found consistently throughout many

Hindu writings. This supplementary being is the force of illusion,

the obscuring veil which separates men from their own source of

truth, the power which, among other things, attempts to make the

material world appear as the ultimate reality. Indeed, it is this

force which creates the physical, phenomenal sphere, making mani­ fest the corporeal strictures from which the soul seeks to free u itself. This power, this concealing force is Maya,^ the mother 11 of this earth, the entity the composer chooses to add to his personae. She is not an actual physical character in Holstfs opera, nor is she strictly personified in Hindu writings. Still, her presense in this composition, even as a concept, is highly con­ sequential and merits some discussion.

Maya

It is Satyavan's words, taken from Holst’s libretto, which reveal how the composer sees Maya and how illusion shall function in the course of the opera. 12 It is Maya: Dost thou not know her? Illusions, dreams, phantoms. But to the wise, Maya is more, Look around— All that thou see*st, Trees and shrubs, The grass at thy feet, All that walks or creeps, All that flies from tree to tree, All is unreal, All is Maya. Our bodies, our limbs, our very thoughts, we ourselves are slaves to Maya. What remaineth? Who can say?

Surely Satyavan has made clear the role of Maya as well as the enormous reach of her influence. For not only does she rule the world of dreams and phantoms, where the effects of illusion seem more apparent, but also the waking world, the tangible world which surrounds us daily. Our bodies, even our very minds and thoughts are enslaved by illusion. All is Maya. All is unreal.

This is quite a statement, and rather unsettling. But more must be said. For what exactly is illusion as it is being consi­ dered here? What precisely does it mean when all man's physical environment is said to be unreal? First, according to Hindu thought,

1unrealnessf does not necessarily infer utter nonexistence. Claim­ ing that the earthly sphere is an illusion is not saying that it is total hallucination, that it is not there at all. 1 3 Rather, it becomes illusory when thought to be more than it is, when seen as the ultimate reality.

To avoid counting the tangible world for more than it truly is, what, then, is it? The material world can be defined in many ways, this fact of 'definability1 being testament to its most sa­ lient feature— its capacity to be labeled, explained, and described by means of man's mental aptitudes. ^ Humanity exists in a state dominated by rationality and logic. Things are researched, assessed, and categorized. Such is an endless process, which, of course, does not only take place on a scientific level. This is simply how man deals with his world and his experience of it. To aid in this cer­ ebral and deductive process all men have a most serviceable tool— 15 1 the intellect, and one of its most important extensions— language.

For what is verbal speech but a method of labeling, of classifying, a way of distinguishing certain things from other things and put­ ting them in their appropriate boxes. True, language and intel­ lect deal with abstract ideas, concepts not fully explicable in a rational sense and therefore difficult to denominate. But still, these ideas are distinguished as such, thereby labeled and placed in their proper niches.

Thus, through the assistance of intellect and language, man explains his world. It would appear that all matter is within his logical powers of observation and comprehension. This is valid as far as it goes. Nonetheless, if this type of reasoning and the world in which it functions is thought to extend further than it actually does, the entire system becomes fraudulent. As said earlier, when not recognized for what it is, no more and no less, the physical condition becomes an illusion. In short, the process 1 7 of postulation by means of what may be called the empirical method is only one stance from which to view reality. Haplessly, it is a stance which, particularly if presumed to be more inclusive than it is, allows Maya one of her greatest holds on men. By defining, labeling, categorizing, looking at things !one at a time1, sepa­ rating one thing from another, even dividing one thing into its component parts— all this is how we afford Maya license to effect perhaps the most dangerous of all deceptions: the illusion of sep­ arateness, the breakdown of oneness, the denial of unity.

UnityIT • + 18

The Hindu conception of unity is a weighty idea, one with far reaching implications, a concept especially significant here because it is unity that is the central theme of Holstrs opera.

Unity is the idea which actively possessed his mind for many years and found its way, under various guises, into a number of his works; it is unity and his consistent preoccupation with the idea of one­ ness which so often brought Holst the designation of a *mystic* composer. Moreover, unity is the dominant idea in his very impor­ tant published article of 1920, The Mystic, the Philistine and the

A r t i s t ,19 an essay which helps reveal his particular understanding of the concept and its relationship to what he defines as the ‘mys­ tic experience*. The article, which also discloses the author!s notion of the ‘philistine spirit* in order to make clear his main ideas, is essentially an exposition on the mystical moment of one- 17 ness and its connection to art and the artist. The following quo­

tations should demonstrate Holst*s beliefs.

I suggest that all mystical experiences (like all artistic ones) are either illusions or direct and intimate realiza­ tions.

All mystic experiences seem to be forms of union. It is worth noting that all these experiences, whether sublime or ridiculous, have one thing in common. They are hard to de­ scribe (because they have so little in common with ordinary life), and yet in themselves they are so convincing.

The highest Mystic is, I suppose, one who experiences union with God. Is he alone a Mystic? Or is Whitman a Mys­ tic in his intense feeling of unity with all men, all life? What of the wonderful feeling of unity with one*s pupils when teaching, a feeling of contact with their minds other than the contact occasioned by speech? Of the similar feel­ ing of unity between musical performer and audience?

Art is likewise a matter of union, although not so ob­ viously as Mysticism. Tolstoy says: *Art is a means of com­ munication. 1 Some writers have said that a great painter seems to see a house apart from its human relationship— as a ’reality1, as a !thing in itself*. This is obviously bor­ dering on Mysticism. We are beyond the ordinary world of re­ lationship and comparison; there is *vision*, a *direct* and intimate realization*.

I have already referred to the feeling of unity established between performer and audience: how much greater is it be­ tween one performer and another! . . . It is this experience that enables one to realize, even if faintly, what is meant by a state where 'the ocean receives the drop of water, but the drop of water receives the consciousness of the ocean* . . . Your self is merged in the whole; true, but the whole is likewise merged in you. You have trained your instrument to obey your will. Whose will is it obeying now? Your play­ ing is transcended (this is true physically and literally), yet it is yours, and in you the playing of the others is tran­ scended. And like all true mystical experiences, while it is so transcendent it is yet so sane and inevitable.

This mystic union is even more true of creative Artists. Mozart declared he 'heard1 the notes of a new work as a whole simultaneously in his mind before putting them down on paper. Here we find time and space annihilated— the true mystic state.

From the foregoing can be seen the importance of unity in the com­

poser's overall philosophy of life and art, and, although he deli­ 18

vers his ideas by means of a discussion on mysticism and aesthet­

ics, the notion of oneness is salient nonetheless.

Perhaps the most consequential aspect of unity found in Holstfs

opera is its neutralization of separateness, its voidance of the

world of distinctions, the domain where Maya reigns supreme. Most

directly, this means that all those things which, on an obvious

level, appear to be independent of one another are actually one

and the same* Going one step further, this means that there can

be no differentiation between persons, places, or things. The

ramifications of this are extreme. They tell us unequivocably that

Savitri is Satyavan, Satyavan is Savitri, and both are Death. None

of the three characters exists as a separate entity. They are all

extensions of the same idea, the same essence, the same overall

reality. If seen as distinct from one another, they are merely

contrivances of Maya.

Without a doubt, this may seem a problematic situation. Sure­

ly, it would be an involved idea to portray in opera, an art form

which by tradition has sought strong characterization of indivi­

dual roles. Notwithstanding the possible difficulties, Holst’s

approach to unity holds firm throughout the piece and even goes

further than the fusing of characters. For Holst seeks also to

bring together fundamental ideas of greatest opposition, to recon­

cile the most distant polarities, the contrary forces which seem . _ _ 20 to keep the universe m balance.

It is in such an atmosphere of utter oneness that Death is not only Savitri and Satyavan, but is also Life, and Life is Death.

Joy is sorrow. Love is hate. Warmth is chill, -lime is immersed 19 in timelessness. Space is immersed in spacelessness. And in a state wherein ordinary time and space are no longer the fundamen­ tal reality, the past and the future merge and become the ever­ present, the end is the beginning, up becomes down, and there be­ comes here. And what remains is 'All1 and 'One1. The existence wherein fAllf has been dissected into 1 th i n g s 1 which are then care­ fully named and categorized, this existence, especially when viewed in a limited context as the complete reality, has been seen as an illusion and has been replaced by that which is truly complete.

•All1 obliterates ’other1. And it cannot be labeled and it cannot be known in the manner by which men know 1 th i n g s 1 with their intel­ lects. And so it is, that •All1 is Unity and both are nameless and unknown. To name is to deceive. To know in the deductive sense is to empower Maya, the queen of illusion.

Since the infinite principle of oneness eludes the tradition­ al processes of ’naming* and ’knowing1, the experience of unity is often said to be ineffable. 21 Holst himself implies that this is his belief when he says that mystic experiences of union are hard to describe because they have so little in common with ordinary oo life. ' ' Because absolute unity is so ouch larger than any pos­ sible lingual definition, those who discuss its essence speak in what seem to be cryptic riddles, making paradoxical statements which, logically appraised, seem impossibly absurd. Often a meth­ od of 'negative1 explanation is employed, where the mystic moment of union with all things is elucidated more by a deliberation of . . 23 what it is not, rather than by what it is.

With this in mind, it is no small wonder that the intell©ct, 20 which is verbally oriented to be sure, has difficulty grasping the concept of unity as it is being presented here. First, the very nature of such a oneness escapes the mind's comprehensive capa­ cities, while, secondly, the only way the issue can be rationally dealt with at all is through a type of verbal twisting to which conventional thought is poorly suited.

Perhaps the greatest problem in mentally apprehending the transcendent arises when infinite principles are viewed from a finite stance. This may be the case when the mind first encoun­ ters the Hindu conception of utter unity. It has been said that

Satyavan, Savitri, and Death are all one and the same character.

This is true, but not in the literal way the finite mind sees one­ ness. For Savitri, Satyavan, and Death, while being one, are also

unique extensions of the 'One'; they are varying reflections of the 21 same overall reality. In short, reality is not without variety.

Just as the human body, though one organized unit, is not without various parts, oneness is not without particular and diversified aspects. Yet again, these aspects, though various, only have mean­ ing as part of the whole. If regarded as mutually exclusive or un­ related, they appear as independent realities, complete in and of themselves. They pass for what they are not and thus become false and misleading, mere illusions.

Seeing unity as possessing multiple properties certainly makes more comprehensible the unifying of supposed extremes, such as Life and Death, joy and sorrow, good and evil. For, though all these things are essential parts of the whole, they are unique and play singular roles within that whole. All this is particularly well 21 symbolized in Hindu writings, where Brahman, the complete and divine essence, is manifest in three forms: the source of light, or the sun; the beams emanating from this source; and the second­

ary evidence of this light and its beams— the reflection of the

sun in a pool, all unique, yet all Brahman. The Bhagavad Gita

also stresses individuality within unity, emphasizing that all

seekers, though truly one, assume their own path to truth, ulti­

mately accomplishing loving union with Krishna in their own per- , 25 sonal way.

This view of reality, multiform and diversified oneness,

though evident in much Indian scripture, is not held with any

great consistency throughout the entirety of Hindu writing. In

fact, the very idea of unity itself is dealt with from a number

of differing vantages. On the one end is the absolute oneness ad- 26> vocated by Sankara, whose teachings on the Upanishads date from

the eighth century A.D. Here, Brahman is 'All1. It is both cre­

ator and created. It pervades everything and is everything. The

human soul, Atman, is also Brahman as well as being infused with

Brahman. To attain bliss one eschews the contingent and tangible

world where events take place in time and space and are the result

of a delusory cause and effect cycle. Then, once the meretricious lures of earthly existence are disregarded, one discerns that he need not seek truth. He is truth. He is God. 27 28 At the other end are the views held by Ramanuja and Madhva

of the eleventh and thirteenth centuries, respectively. In this in­ stance the concept of unity, the principle of Brahman, is broken down into constituent portions, each of which possess distinct 22

characteristics. In addition, although everything emanates from

the same 'One1, the degree to which the diverse parts of the 'One1

can be joined in total unity is highly qualified. For example,

man can never actually be or become God. This point is made es­

pecially clear in the Bhagavad-Purana, where it is held that God

or Krishna and the lovers of Krishna can never attain absolute 29 unity* Thus, though God and man are the same, deity always re­

mains unique in some way. Otherwise, it is believed there could

be no independent functioning of love and grace flowing from cre­

ator to created.

These valuations on the nature of unity and oneness and all

the gradations in between attest to the spirit of Hindu philosophy

in general* For it is a broad system of thought which is so open

and all-inclusive that seemingly opposing beliefs exist side by 30 side without invalidating each other or disrupting the whole.

As might be expected, such contrastive views can be found from one

text bo another. This is evident when comparing, for instance,

the almost unfathomable, virtually unqualified unity found in much

of the Upanishads with the more diversified and thus more compre­

hensible unity of the Mahabharata. But these outwardly contrary

perspectives can also co-exist within one work, such as is superb­

ly seen in the Bhagavad Gita, one of Hinduism's most influential

texts, and one Holst had studied at length by the time he composed

S a v i t r i .

It is here, within a philosophical network where conflicts are simply not ackowledged as significant, that a vital tenet is made manifest. And it is a tenet which not only clarifies much of 23

Hindu thought, but which also reveals what Holst is attempting to achieve in his opera. Simply stated, reality may be experienced in

infinite ways, all of which are thoroughly credible and pertinent.

The only requirement is that each experience is permitted to be

what it actually is, nothing more. For instance, if one perceives

a portion of reality from the earthly position of mortality, the

discovery, as has been stressed, is fully valid. But it remains

so only if recognized for what it is: just one possible place from 31 which certain features of reality can be seen.

Knowing that the reality of unity may be realized from many

positions offers a clue as to how one might look at Holst’s opera.

F°r Savitri can be seen from various angles, take on different

meanings, be interpreted on several levels. All these levels are

relevant and justifiable. And, as in Hindu scripture, they need

not be in discord; each view contributes positively to the whole.

Still, appraising the opera from different stands may ini­

tially prove bewildering. With several ways to consider each pas­

sage, all characters, events, and situations seem hopelessly incon­

sistent. They are never solely what they appear to be at first

glance, so that one is forever asking himself, 'who is who and

what is what'. Feeling exasperated, there may be a temptation to

believe that one interpretation voids another, or that the open

acknowledgement of dissimilar attitudes has a way of cancelling

itself out, resulting in the uneasy feeling that nothing has been resolved at all. And to further this understandably perplexing predicament, the pervading spirit of Maya is continually qualify­ ing the manner in which Holst's characters are to interact in a 24 mixed atmosphere of both reality and illusion.

Speaking from a Hindu standpoint, a goodly amount of all this

confusion is attributable to Maya herself, she who uses our ration­

al minds to conclude that such a motley plethora of ideas could not

possibly stand together, let alone be complementary. Yet they do

stand together and are interrelated in the most intimate fashion.

Such is the nature of Hindu thought. And such is the nature of

Holst's opera. One must simply be prepared to look at the work

in this manner, freely admitting all plausible explanations and

interpretations.

Summary

In summary, Savitri is an opera which speaks of unity; this

is the composer's pivotal theme. Unity in its completeness ac­

counts for all that is and is therefore the superlative reality.

And it is a reality which may be perceived and experienced from

innumerable perspectives and thus evaluated in innumerable ways.

One of these ways is to see the reality of oneness as diverse,

possessing countless varying attributes, each being unique while

concurrently being part of the whole. This perception of unity is,

by and large, that which dominates Holst's opera, though there are

others which are apparent also.

The purpose of the ensuing study, therefore, is to determine

how this view of unity is portrayed both in music and libretto, re­

membering that Holst is author of both. Examination of the music

itself will be analytical; yet, an analytical investigation with

a different end than the determination of harmonic, rhythmic, or 25 melodic procedure— this is not a deliberation on compositional

style. Rather, it is an evaluation of artistic and aesthetic con­

tent, a potentially subjective assessment which is, nonetheless,

based on concrete evidence found in the music and text. In brief,

the following analysis shall render some insight into what the com­

poser is trying to say and how he is attempting to communicate it.

As a study of this nature cannot help but bear, at least in

part, a personal stamp of the author, the reader may find themselves

at variance with certain stands taken, certain conclusions drawn.

Still, such disagreement shall merely reiterate one of the most

fundamental premises stressed in the preceding discussion. As

mentioned, within a context of total unity, there is no actua]

conflict between differing viewpoints. Reality can be experienced

and understood on many levels. Such is the essence of Hindu thought.

Such is the essence of Holst's opera. If accepted for what it is,

no more and no less, most any interpretation is tenable. The fol­

lowing is one such interpretation. 26

Notes 1Imogen Holst, Gustav Holst (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), p. 16 a .

2Ibid., p. 2 1. 3 As regards Holst’s Hindu leanings, it is interesting to note that his stepmother was a theosophist, and that as a young boy he was exposed to lofty conversations on reincarnation and the like at home. Annie Besant's theosophical movement, which had ac­ tually been initiated by Madame Blavatsky, was indicative of an overall Hindu 'renaissance' which literally possessed England for several decades before and after the turn of the century. Thus Holst's personal studies of Sanskrit literature and the ideas he gleaned from them must certainly have been influenced to some de­ gree by the general Eastern trends which were so prominent at the time in his country, trends which were marked to some extent by the coming together of both Eastern and Western philosophical ideas. This marriage of East and West should be born in mind when considering how Holst reveals his particular understanding of Hindu concepts in Savitri.

^Holst, while still in his youth, was greatly affected by Wagner’s music. His daughter tells us in her biography of her father, Gustav Holst, p. 11, that "after standing in the gallery for a performance of 'Tristan' he would walk all night through the silent streets and watch the dawn over the river, his mind in a w h i r l ,'1 This influence Holst himself would one day refer to as "good old Wagnerian bawling," but vestiges of late nineteenth- century chromaticism would continue to appear, though in lesser degree, in several compositions which succeed Sita. Some of these romantic inklings are evident in Savitri, not the least of which is the usage of leitmotif-like phrases and themes to represent ideas and personalities. Other romantic Wagnerian aspects will be noted later.

The Mahabharata, trans. and ed. J. A. B. van Buitenen (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1975)

^The savitri formula is a hymn from the Rig Veda addressed specifically to the Sun, the Sun being named Savitar in Vedic writ­ ings. It is set to a particular meter known as 'gayatri', contain­ ing twenty-four Sanskrit syllables. Being brief, more like a verse than an entire hymn, it may be translated as follows: "We meditate on that excellent light of the divine Sun; may he illuminate our minds."

^Quotes represent my own paraphrasing of the dialogue which takes place in the original.

^Quotes are taken verbatim from Holst's libretto. 27

9 The union of man and wife, particularly in many of the de­ votional sects of Hinduism, is seen as emblematic of the devotee's 'marriage', as it were, with God, a conjoing which symbolizes one of the principal themes of Hindu thought— the unity of all things. This concept is vital and should be noted when appraising the re­ lationship between Savitri and Satyavan throughout Holst's opera,

^Although there are several shades of meaning applied to the notion of Maya in Hindu thought, the concept, in the broadest sense, applies in one way or another to illusion. In Paul Deussen, The Philosophy of the Upanishads. trans. Rev. A. S. Geden (New York: Dover Publications, Inc,, 1966), p. 227, the author states, . . the Upanishads teach that this universe is not the atman, the proper 'self' of things, but a mere maya, a deception, an illusion, and that the empirical knowledge of it yields no vidya, no true know­ ledge, but remains entangled in avidya, in ignorance. On p. 42 of the same work, Deussen says, "The objects which lie around us on every side in infinite space, and to which by virtue of our corpo­ real nature we ourselves belong, are, according to Xant, not 'things in themselves,' but only apparitions. According to Plato, they are not the true realities, but only apparitions. And according to the doctrine of the Upanishads, they are not the atman, the real 'self' of things, but mere maya,— that is to say, a sheer deceit, illusion," In Floyd Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1953), p. 35, it is stated that "Maya is inscrutable; it comes into being and it passes away. It is the world of appear­ ances rather than the world of reality; or, to state it in a slight­ ly different way, the world as seen from a finite point of view," Another slightly varied conception of Maya is also apparent in Hindu writing. Here, since illusion is tied so closely to the physical sphere, and since this sphere, in a sense, is simply an incarnation of Brahman (the ultimate, divine principle of the uni­ verse), Maya can be interpreted as being the tangible embodiment of Brahman itself, rather than merely the illusion caused by such. In Sarasvati Chennakesavan, A Critical Study of Hinduisr. (Delhi: South Asia Books, 1980), pp. 51-52, p, 90, the author explains that Brahman, which is formless, can take on material form and become reified as a god for the benefit of man, as was the case with Krish­ na, This is made possible by a special power that Brahman possesses, the power to become material at some level— the power of Maya. This same notion of Maya is expressed in Troy Wilson Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Man (Athens, Ohio: 1970), p, 41, where he speaks of Indra going about in many forms by his magical powers, or Maya. He also mentions the magician who conjures up the phenom­ enal world by the magical powers of Maya. Wilson has taken both these references from the Upanishads.

11 Since Maya can be seen not only as the illusion spawned by the material world, but also as the concept of 'physicality' itself, it is not difficult to see why Maya may be referred to as the 'moth­ er of this earth'. A quote to this effect by Ramakrishna, the great nineteenth-century yogi, may be found in K. P. S. Choudhary, Moder^ 28

Indian Mysticism (Delhi: Montilal Banarsidass, 1981), pp. 106-107: Brahman in its essential nature or immutable being is indetermin­ ate and impersonal, while in its sportive creative activity it is personal God or the Divine Mother; and *it is the Divine Mother who has become all this 1. ’1 12 Holst1s use of ’dream* here and elsewhere in the opera is to be viewed in the more Western sense of being less real than the waking state, and is therefore not to be confused with a common Hindu idea that the ’dream’ state is closer to reality, or the true self, than the ’waking’ state. 13 As all things are Brahman, including the physical world which Brahman has made manifest through Maya, then nothing is ac­ tually unreal or without value. The ’reality’ of the physical sphere, in this sense, is recognized throughout Hindu thought and can be epitomized by the philosophies of Ramakrishna, again found in Choudhary, Modern Indian Mysticism, p. 105: ’’Al l this is Brahman. Nothing is undivine. All things and beings of the universe are Brahman in different forms and degrees of perfection. . . . God, maya, living beings, and the universe form one whole.” 1 L Man’s ability to use his mind is important, but it is evi­ dence of his necessity to deal with a world of Maya, a world of se­ parate illusionary objects. That man’s cognition is not his high­ est and truest self is made clear in the five-level description of the ’self* found in the Katha Ugan1 shad. Here, the outermost or most superficial level is the body itself. The next level is re­ presented by the physical senses which, in turn, feed into the third level— the mind. But the mind is not the 'true self*. What comes to it through the first and second levels is simply data. And these data mean nothing until they are properly evaluated by the fourth lev­ el, or reason. Reason is superior to the mind, but even it is not the ’true self*. The fifth level, then, is the apex. It is Atman, or the manifestation of Brahman in man. This five-level concept of the 'self’ which developed into the ’sheath’ theory of the Taittiriva Upanishad and later into the ’waking, dreaming, silence* theory of the Handukya Upanishad is lucidly outlined in Chapter 2 of A. L. Herman, The Bhagavad Gita: A Translation and Critical Commentary (Springfield, 111.: Charles C. Thomas, 1973), pp. 12-19. 5 1 Much of what was mentioned in the preceding note as con­ cerns man's cognitive capacities also applies to the 'intellect'. But it must further be made clear that the intellect, in general, is simply incapable of grasping the higher levels of truth, levels which can only be known intuitively. In Deussen, The Philosophy of the Upanishads, p. 46, the writer states that "... there is room for another, a higher order of things, which is not subject to the laws of space, time, and causality. And it is precisely this high­ er order of things set over-against the reality of experience, from the knowledge of which we are excluded by our intellectual consti­ tution, which religion comprehends in faith by her teaching concern­ ing God, immortality, and freedom." On pp. 48-49 of Deussen's book, 29

he says, ". . # the Upanishads taught before Kant, that this entire universe, with its relations in space, its consequent manifoldness and dependence upon the mind that apprehends, rests solely upon an illusion, natural indeed to us owing to the limitations of our in­ tellect # " The Katha Upanishad states, as paraphrased in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism, p. 35, that "The way to Self-knowledge is as narrow as the sharp edge of a razor, hard to tread and difficult to cross. The desired insight cannot be gained through knowledge of the physical world nor through intel­ lectual analysis. Beyond a certain stage in the search, the ana­ lytical mind must be stopped completely." Also see Choudhary, Mod­ ern Indian Mysticism, pp# 22-23, where mysticism and intuition are discussed.

16Language is, among other things, the evidence that the in­ tellect is 'discursive1, in other words, that it thinks deductively and categorically rather than in terms of concord and unity. Human intellect and language are hardly conceivable without each other, and it is a debate for the field of linguistics to determine which of the two has more power over the other. Deussen, in The Philoso­ phy of the Upanishads, p. 229, discusses a relevant section from the Vedas, saying, "When it is said in Rigv. I. 164.46: 'the poets give many names to that which is only one,' it is implied therein that plurity depends solely upon words ('a mere matter of words,' as it is said later), and that unity alone is real," Deussen also states on pp. 43-4-4» paraphrasing both the Chandogya Upanishad and the Greek, Parmenides, "Here the manifold change of the one sub­ stance is explained as mere wordplay, mere name, exactly as Par­ menides asserts that all which men regard as real is mere name." 17 When speaking of the breakdown of 'oneness1 by means of words, Deussen, in The Philosophy cf the Upanishads, p. 77, says that "What is here described as empty word, mere name, darkness, unreality, i.e. the entire empirical knowledge of things, is fur­ ther denoted by 'ignorance'," As can be discerned from this and from numerous other passages in the Upanishads themselves, the em­ pirical method is the typical discursive manner in which the intel­ lect assesses the information which comes to it, most of this in­ formation being of the physical world of Maya.

1 8The concept of unity is so integral to Hindu thought that discussions on its nature and the ideal of the "One* are to be found in nearly every study of Hinduism as well as the scriptural sources themselves. A quote from Troy Wilson Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Man, p. 107, serves as an apt and representative ex- ample: "Brahman^is One, but not a numerical one, nor a unity of a collection, nor the collection as a whole. Brahman is One as one­ ness, unification, the principle of integration. Brahman is One only in the sense that there is no other; there is nothing that is n o t * Brahman. Brahman is the non-divisible All from which all things come in a non-divisible way and exist in a non-divisible manner." 30

19 Originally published in The Quest (1920), Holst*s article, The Mystic, the Philistine and the Artist, is presently printed as Appendix II in Imogen Holst, Gustav Holst, pp. 194-204.

20As no ’opposites* or conflicts can exist within total uni­ ty, much Hindu writing dealing with oneness mentions the reconcili­ ation of differences. In Choudhary, Modern Indian Mysticism, p. 6, we find some representative comments: **In mystical consciousness the distinctions between *1 * and *You* which are the main causes of con­ flict, hatred and selfishness are overcome. He who achieves the mys­ tic unifying vision sees that his self is the self of all men, he is in them and they in him.** On p. 14 of the same book, Choudhary, in great succinctness, simply attests, "The Mystical state is a state of distinctionless unity.**

21 Many are the Hindu passages that propose that the highest reality is beyond empirical conception. It cannot be thought of in the cognitive sense, thus it cannot be externalized verbally— hence, it is ineffable. Choudhary writes in Modern Indian Mysticism, p. 24: **Mystical experience is ’ineffable*. It should be borne in mind, that the central point of mysticism is unintelligibility somewhere, i.e., incommunicability through any intelligible medium. This is the most fundamental point of agreement among the mystics of the East as well as of the West.** In the Mandukya Upanishad is detailed the meditative chanting of the sacred sound AUM. The final stage of the chanting sequence results in complete silence, for Atman has been reached, Atman which is the revelation of Brahman in the individual and, being Brahman, is beyond word or sound.

22See quotation from Holst’s article, ’The Mystic, the Phil­ istine and the Artist*, p. 17 of this paper. 23 ' Because the ultimate reality is held to be ineffable, those who experience it resort either to silence, speaking in lofty super­ latives, speaking in paradoxes, or describing their experience by a method of negation (i.e., stating what it is not, because ineffabil- ity precludes stating what it is). See Choudhary, Modern Indian Mysticism, pp. 27-32. The following phrases from Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Man, p. 108, should give an example of the distortions language often takes on to describe what is essen­ tially beyond words: **Brahman can only be known by a ’knowing* which transcends subject and object, which is not knowing at all. So Brah­ man can be ’known* only by ’not knowing’: ’It is conceived of by him by whom It is not conceived of. He by whom It is conceived of, knows It not. It is not understood by those who say they understand It. It is understood by those who say they understand It not’.** Organ is basically paraphrasing passages from the Kena Upanishad. 2 L The idea of reality or oneness possessing variety or mani­ festing itself in numerous ways is a doctrine espoused by a parti­ cular school of thought in Hinduism known as ‘Concrete Monism*. One of the major teachings of this group is that, though man ultimately 31 nay become one with reality or God, he still maintains some aspect of individuality or distinctness* One of the most well-known recent advocators of such a view is Rabindranath Tagore. 25 In Herman, The Bhagavad Gita: A Translation and Critical Commentary, p. 25, it is said that the salvation doctrines espoused in the Gita "can be called truly universal for the simple reason that they offer a plethora of alternative paths to liberation and happiness based upon all the possible combinations of human nature." A similar reference can be found in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism, p. 75, where the author, in his chapter on the teachings of the Gita, says, "There is diversity of pathways, however, since each person is unique by virtue of heredity and en­ vironment. Each must find and follow his own path. Though the path­ ways vary indefinitely in detail, all of them lead to a common sum­ mit." 26 Sankara (c.700-C.750), Indian scholar and theologian whose teachings many consider to constitute the root of modern Hindu phi­ losophy. His most important writings are those on the Brahma Sutra and the Upanishads, where he develops his ideas of Brahman being the unchanging, eternal ’One’, all plurality and differentiation being illusion. 27 Ramanuja (c.1017-1137), first important Indian theolo­ gian to qualify and reject some of Sankara’s ideas on absolute one­ ness. He developed a powerful movement in ’devotional* Hinduism, where the devotee worships a more concrete manifestation of Brahman, in this instance, the god Visnu and goddess Sri. 28 Madhva (c.1199-C.1278), Indian philosopher whose followers organized the religious group bearing his name. He unequivocably espoused that, while God and man are one in kind, they remain eter­ nally individual. He also disagreed with Sankara’s belief that all material distinctions refute the true oneness of Brahman and are thus illusory. In this way, Madhva also rejected the traditional Hindu view of Maya, a view which held the world to be utter hallucination. It is also interesting to note that, of all Hindu sects, Madhva’s is that one which most parallels Christianity.

29' The Bhagavata-Purana, written probably in the tenth-century, during the time that Ramanuja’s teachings were being disseminated, beautifully expresses the qualities of ’devotional’ Hinduism. The tenth book of the Purana deals with Krishna’s childhood and early manhood, some of the passages dealing with the intimate connections between himself and the gopis (the local cowgirls), a symbolic love relationship which allegorizes the mystic coming together of God and his loving disciples. Here is depicted a union which is not seen as absolute in the sense so evident in the Upanishads.

^°The broad philosophical and theological scope of Hinduism is one of its most characteristic hallmarks. In the preface of Chennakesavan, A Critical Study of Hinduism, p. xii, the author 32 tells the reader that "Hinduism is a rational religion, not requir­ ing its adherents to accept any one idea, but to examine impartial­ ly all ideas and accept that which is rationally most inviting." In the forward of this same book, N. A. Nikam sums up the eclectic nature of Hinduism in his first paragraph, a nature which indeed accepts views that seem utterly opposing: "Hinduism does not say theists are on the point, and that atheists are beside it. Hindu­ ism is the comprehension of a Truth which excludes nothing and no­ body; its conception of Truth includes theists as well as atheists. To the atheist who denies God, or the materialist who denies the reality of Spirit, Hinduism asks, 'Find out first who or what it is that denies God or the reality of Spirit. ' Therefore rlinduism is based on the fundamental proposition, 'know thyself'. This proposition cuts across theism and atheism, materialism and agnosticism. Hin­ duism is that dialectic of thought and experience which affirms what it denies. In its conception of vastness of Truth, Hinduism recognises that there is no one road by which the human mind can reach it . . 31 That all levels of awareness of reality are acceptible, even the most mundane, those most influenced by Maya, is expressed by Coomaraswamy, rephrased in Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism, p. 35: "the doctrine of maya does not assert the in­ significance of the world but stresses that as we see the world, 'extended in the order of space, time and causality', it has no static existence as a thing in itself: our partial vision is false in so far, and only in so far, as it is partial. The world has as much significance as the degree of a man's enlightenment allows him to discover in it." CHAPTER 2

THE ANALYSIS

Death Summons

The opera begins on an empty stage, the setting grimly aus­

tere, scenery minimal, if present at all. Emanating from this state

of vacancy, of rich 1 nothingness1, Death's call is heard, a summons

incisive and piercing, made frighteningly arresting by the fact that he remains unseen. Though hidden, his presence is real and power­ ful, one that needs no physical proof of his existence. Death's opening lines, the first in the opera, carry great weight, for they immediately deliver those musical motifs that shall represent him throughout the piece, motifs heard over and over again. And in their unadorned, almost chantlike directness and their nearly relentless repetition, Death's constancy appears to be set. He is timeless and insuperable. And his formidable grasp reaches out for all that lives.

With the soberness of an instrumentally unaccompanied, monophonic line, Death makes clear his sovereignty.

Example 1 (mm. 1-25)

And&nte Be^ento.

I im hr who lead-eth men on-w»rd, ^ I nr. the road thit each mutt tra-vel, MotifC Motif S ' 34

Example 1 (cont.) T)ea4hi ^tcerJi’no T a r fe e t f i f t h

I bjii the gate that o • pens for all, I, the Sum-mon-er, Mftff C' ' Koi'.f D

i f f - . h * I f t f f

Whom all o «- bey, Whose word mty not be mow - e'd, Wfeoae i (_------•------> MrfV-f g-

(MnUr U7ITM I «i# /tmmi i#r km*ds to U r Amd ss i f ti t Jf—

path may not be tum-e'd I draw nigh to fu)>fil my work, * tAoilf £ (reftsimJ) Hrtif £' wo* 14 ikut out ik* touni.) I SAVITRI. J» ptrUnU

~ ...... J S A-gain, dim. e rail. V-

come for tfay bus - band, For him the gate doth o • pen. ^ " ■ " 'V - . 1. t Plotlf C' (repeated)

Certainly Death’s charge is here made patent. There would seem to be no question as to his power and dominion. Still, one recalls from Chapter 1 that all is not solely what it first appears to be. There is more than one way to view any situation, and the passage here is no exception. Already the music manifests a cer­ tain ambivalence. As Death’s assertively resolute line pushes forth, symbolizing his strength and permanence, an inconstancy is also revealed, something dubious and unsettled, exhibited in part by a wavering tonal background.

From the beginning, the tonal center seems to be A. The G# on the word, "Death,” provides a strong leading tone and the re- 35

suiting mode is A harmonic minor on both Motifs A and B. But when,

in irrevocable duty, Death is to lead men onward (Motif C), the to­

nal center itself is altered, not heightened to A#, but 'enervated*

to At. This tonal ambiguity recurs in Motifs B* and C', where the

pitches A and At, respectively, are again sounded. The interchange

between A and Ab may also infer an entirely different tonal center—

that of F, resulting in a mixing of modes, the A^ suggesting major

and the Ab suggesting minor. This modal uncertainty with F as pos­

sible pitch center, being most apparent in Motifs C and C !, also

causes one to reconsider the A^ and G# in Motifs A and B, further

complicating the issue of tonal center.

The perfect fifth leap from A to E on "I, the Summoner"

(Motif D) clearly seems to establish (or perhaps reestablish) A

minor. Yet, in the phrase immediately following, the D# and C#

suggest E as center. On the words, "Whose word may not be moved,

Whose path may not be turned" (Motif E), where the text alone should

imply an unannullable determinancy, the confused tonality is again

'underscored by implying G# phrygian. Death concludes his 'firm*

allocution by a return to the tonal and modal ambivalence created

by A and Ab in the final three statements of Motif C 1.

A wandering sense of pitch center and of fluctuating modal­

ities is not all that undermines Death's 'immutable1 strength.

The melodic line itself, which outwardly is so decided and as­

sured, is found, upon closer scrutiny, to vitiate the very declar­

ations of the powerful master. On the line, "I am he who leadeth

men onward," the melody descends, as if leading men downward or

backward could well be equated with leading them forward. The 36 alteration of A to Ab in the same phrase is equally important, this lowering creating a tonal sag which causes one to speculate upon

Death's ability to actually lead man anywhere at all. When Death

declares that his word may not be moved, nor his path turned, it

is again sung to a descending line. And as he makes clear by these

words that he is changeless, that his call can be ignored by no

man, and that his path cannot be averted, his G H on "turned" does

indeed turn, becoming Ab one beat later.

Enharmonic relationships, such as that between G# and Ab

i above, occur m significant areas throughout the piece. Still,

they cannot be said to be clearly evident to any listener who does

not possess a copy of the music. Furthermore, even upon examin­

ing the score, it would seem apparent that numerous enharmonic

spellings are simply a notational expedient. Yet this will not

dismiss the effect such spellings will have on the performer, ef­

fects which will be communicated in some form to the listener.

Surely, any sensitive singer will interpret the G#, which has been

arrived at from above, differently from the Ab, which will descend

to the G below. And the Ab following the G#, regardless of nota­

tional aptness, is required in this particular spot, representing

the same tonal drooping already mentioned within Motif C. Here

again, the melodic line seems to contradict Death's words. The pitches, starting with the Ab (already a sagging adulteration of

the A), descend as Death announces his arrival, "I draw nigh to fulfill my work."

As recalled from Chapter 1, Holst mentions in his essay, The

Mvstic, the Philistine, and the Artist, the visual artist's ability 37 to see beyond the tangible guise of earthly objects: "Writers have said that a great painter sees a house apart from its human rela- tionship, as a 'reality', as a thing in itself."2 Similarly, Holst has seen beyond the most immediate traits of his characters, beyond the most obvious ramifications of his story line. Death's words, on the most ostensible level, depict him as thoroughly invincible.

And his music, with its plodding insistency and its innumerable re­ petitions throughout the opera, would seem all the more to emphasize this picture. Yet, though quite valid, this is only one way to look at Death. The observations above show that there are other inter­ pretations for these opening passages. And it is vital to comment here that the reader may have arrived at still different conclu­ sions. For example, the unsettled tonality, which has been said to render questionable Death's power, may be thought to indicate his infinite nature; he may be seen as too complex to be repre­ sented by one definable tonal center. The enharmonic spellings may further support such a view. Also, when the music is seen to contradict the text, such as when Death seeks to lead mortals on­ ward with a stepwise descending line, the reader may recall from

Chapter 1 that such contradictions do not truly exist. If up is down, and here is there, then surely one can proceed onward by going either downward or backward. These, too, are viable ex­ planations .

Still, there are reasons why the writer has here chosen a particular view of Death's lines, reasons which shall be verified as the study continues. If nothing else, the reader at this point should be wary of taking any passage solely on face value. The 38 most obvious interpretations are quite pertinent, but cannot stand alone. That which seems plain becomes tenuous and equivocal. And, as Holst1s music functions on many levels, Death can at once be both powerful and impotent, determined and unsteady, distinct and anomolous, all such paradoxical traits portraying him as he truly and fully is.

The Tormented Savitri

In response to Death1s dark beckonings, Savitri enters with her hands over her ears, the first personage to be seen on stage by the audience. Her lines are frantically anxious. And, though

Death's tonal axis is far from definite, the erratically wander­

ing quasi-tonal nature of Savitri!s melody instantly distinguishes

her terrified frenzy from Death's seeming assurance. She is the

tortured woman who fears for her husband. Death is the spectre who haunts her every thought. She and her husband are the help­

less prey. Death is he who pursues and claims. Yet, this conven­

ient demarcation of personality traits, so well underscored by the two distinct melodic styles, is only a fraction of the picture.

Unity is the composer's main issue, and already the two characters, which on one level appear to be in clear opposition, are beginning to be identified as one.

The first musical device which brings Savitri and Death closer together is the contrapuntal alignment of their melodic lines. For, as Savitri's agitated wailing continues, Death, though still unseen by the audience, begins anew his call. True, the listener can dis­ tinguish between the two vocal parts by tone quality and musical style, but the confused concurrence of two people singing at once 39 tends to obscure the details of each, merging the two into a single mass of sound.

More telling, however, than the polyphonic combination of the two parts, is the inclusion of Death*s melodic motifs in Savitri!s otherwise dissimilar line. All the examples below are passages from Savitri*s melodic material which have incorporated Death*s identifying motifs.

Example 2 (mm. 26-28)

Example 3 (mm. 29-31)

Example 4 4-7-48)

S a v * ^ r<

~ ~ w - 3 5

'I c o m e f o r U r j - b a n d ?

1------Derr/e^ -from C~' Example 5 (mm. 54-55) LO

Example 6 (mm. 58-61)

D e r i v e d C /

Further mention should be made of Savitri*s phrase, nI come for thy husband ?11 (see Example 4). Savitri is clearly linked here with Death by use of one of his melodic motifs. Yet the libretto itself contributes to the interconnection of the two characters, for here she is quoting Death’s very words, herself uttering that which she so fears for Satyavan. A similar instance occurs ten bars later as Savitri again appropriates both Death's music and words (see Example 6),

Certainly one of the most remarkable ways in which Holst identifies Savitri with Death is through the use of a single con­ cise rhythmic motif, a basic long-short-long that is represented by a variety of dotted rhythms. And in emphasis of its unique sig­ nificance, this rhythmic motif, interestingly enough, sets the very first three notes of the opera, those constituting Death's Motif A.

Here, without introduction or instrumental accompaniment, Death forbiddingly enunciates Savitrirs name on a single pitch so as not to detract from the importance of the rhythm, making his call plain and direct.

Example 7 (mm. 1-2)

Death. (unseen) Sa - Tl-tril Si - ▼i-tril__A Although it is Death who first sings this motif and although it has been designated as his own Motif A, this compact musical cell, as will be further seen during the progression of the opera, is more precisely associated with Savitri, for it is her name which it so strongly proclaims. Though Motif A never occurs with­ out the dotted rhythm, the rhythmic pattern itself often occurs independently, and throughout this analysis will be referred to as

Savitri!s dotted rhythmic motif, whether it sets a recurring single pitch as in Death's Motif A or not.

Just within Death's beginning lines alone, this rhythmic mo­ tif serves to connect him three times to Savitri, for he uses that which defines Savitri, so to speak, to define himself. Example 8

is most obvious, while Examples 9 and 10 are variations or exten­

sions of the basic rhythm.

Example 8 (m. 6)

Example 9 (mn. 10-11) V t w l W

Example 10 (m. 13)

/ . ft Even Satyavan is included in these first few bars, being linked to both Savitri and Death where Savitri1s rhythmic motif

sets the words, !1him (referring to Satyavan) the gate."

Example 11 (mm. 23-25)

'Rhytrk* Mrft.

For kim the gate doth o - pen. Mptif C'

As can be seen, Holst!s central theme of unity already be­

gins to be manifest within the first measures with the linking of

his characters through melodic and rhythmic motifs. But the open­

ing chapter speaks of an even greater unity wherein apparent poles

are brought together. This richer union, too, is forecast briefly

in the beginning bars as Savitrifs dotted rhythmic motif sets the

opposing times of day and night. Thus far employed mainly in the

unification of Savitri and Death, this rhythmic motif accomplishes

much broader ends than merely this. As the work proceeds, it will

permeate nearly every passage, in time associating all characters

emotions, and ideas, fusing some of the most apparently diverse

elements into a complementary whole. This larger sense of unity,

just foreshadowed here, greatly influences the spirit of the work

as a whole and will be seen more fully as the opera develops.

Example 12 (m. 27) 43

Satyavan the Victim

It has been said that unity is Holst*s ideal. The manner in

which he approaches the subject has been seen with the subtle asso­

ciations thus far implied between Savitri and Death. Yet, as the

opera proceeds, there is no greater example of union than that be­

tween Savitri and her husband.^ This marvelous affinity begins to

be shown as Satyavan prepares to come on stage to greet his wife.

As Savitri moves toward the close of her lines, the solo cello pre­

sents Satyavan*s Theme L. The placement of the cello is notewor­

thy, as it enters below Savitri*s phrase, "He in whom I live," and

again below the words, "Whose soul dwells in mine." The presence

of Satyavan*s musical theme set beside his wife’s words attests

to the oneness of which she speaks.

Example 13 (mm. 54-57)

Them* L Them* L

The oneness demonstrated in the example above is musically

punctuated nine bars later by the quick succession of both Savi­

tri *s and Satyavan*s names on Savitri*s now familiar dotted rhyth­

mic motif, where even the pitches are identical. And the fact

that it is Savitri who speaks Satyavan *s name and Satyavan who

speaks Savitri*s just further emphasizes the melding of their personalities (Example 14). u

Example 14 (mm, 64-68)

•AVITU.

The unity of husband and wife may yet be taken one step fur­ ther, perhaps even breaking down, to an extent, the distinction of sex. In the above example, Satyavan asks, "What wife in all the world is like to Savitri," and almost before he finishes his in­ quiry the answer is given by Savitri herself with identical pitch­ es and the same rhythmic pattern. Who is like unto Savitri? Sat­ yavan, of course. Before continuing it should also be noted that

Savitri's dotted rhythmic motif, which ties her in Example 14 to her husband, has functioned previously to link her with Death.

This in turn, through Savitri1s rhythmic motif, serves to link

Satyavan likewise to Death, a curious connection that is highly significant and will be discussed further as the analysis proceeds.

Satyavan1s musical depiction is at once set apart from the tonally complex, rather nonlyrical counterpoint which has repre­ sented Savitri and Death. His spirited melodic line is joyously animated, bouyantly blithesome and contented. In contrast to the plodding motivic nature of Death's phrases and Savitri's recitative like declamation, Satyavan's melodies are unabashedly lyrical and aria-like. Their human accessibility is underlined by a metrical and rhythmic verve and the attendance of relatively clear modali- Kb ties and tonal centers. The bucolic nature of folksong is instant­ ly apparent here, and all musical elements coalesce to present Sat- yavan as one who is overtly guileless, unpretentious, and seeming­ ly simple and uncomplicated.

How effectively Holst has separated Satyavan from the dark world from which Death hails and of which Savitri has begun to ex­ perience. Once again, however, one soon sees that all is not what it appears to be on the surface. Indeed, upon closer examination,

Satyavan emerges as perhaps one of the more enigmatic entities of the opera. His multi-level personality may first be recognized in the composer’s particular use of modality and tonal center, musical techniques already cited above as presenting Satyavan as simple and direct. With Satyavanfs Theme L, though E sounds clearly to be tonal center, the actual mode in use is somewhat vague. The lower tetrachord would suggest one of the forms of E major (ionian, lydian, mixolydian), while the upper tetrachord suggests a form of

E minor (aeolian or phrygian).

Example 15 (mm. 61-66)

SATYAVAN (m U » iuUm t* )

i — Greet - ing to thee, tnj lov - mg S i- r i- tr i ------» L

k ------j H ------T What wife ic ail the world >■ like to Si - - tri__ T H e m e L 46

The amalgam of major and minor in the previous example does produce a sense of modal ambiguity, yet in itself is not unique from the modal duality evident in much folk music. And Holst had been fascinated by English folksong for about five years by the time he composed Savitri.^ Of more interest is the use of in­ flected or alterable scale degrees, the two chromatic varieties of a single scale member being considered equal members of the scale.

The inflected degree in Example 15 is the second, which occurs as both T§ and F ^ .

In Satyavan's subsequent Theme M, the Ftt and F^ are again

seen to be two colors of one scale member, in this instance the

sixth degree, since the tonal center has shifted to A.

Example 16 (mm. 72-77)

Like a *pcc-tre of the for - est, Nights gloom-y pall is draw-ing nigh, ------>

The inflected degrees in Examples 15 and 16 are especially effec­ tive in bringing about an air of modal incertitude, not only by obscuring the nature of the actual mode in use, but by causing the tonal center to become vague and transcient. For instance, in Example 16, while the first phrase of Theme M is plainly set a to A dorian, the F^ in the following phrase contradicts this modal footing.

These alterable scale degrees bring about more than an obfus­ cating effect on modality and tonal center* Perhaps even more con­ sequential is the duality they symbolize. Though F# and F£ are no­ tated in the same spot on the staff, though they arise as two ver­ sions of one scale degree, though their notational names themselves unite them, they are yet two entirely different pitches. Satyavan, so to speak, is simultaneously Fft and , two extensions of one en­ tity, both of which nonetheless must be recognized. Certainly Sat­ yavan must be studied more closely to uncover a duality which is at the core of his nature.

To discover this duality one must look back to the opening scene. Savitri and Death, with the tight interplay of their mus-

* ical material, are immediately set in conflict. Still, it is not

Savitri who stands in imminent danger of this baneful visitation.

It is her husband for whom Death has come; Death— the assailant,

Satyavan— the subject of the inevitable. Yet here, between those two characters which should, by principle at least, be most opposed, there is a remarkable similitude. Satyavan, the victim of Death, is himself a bearer of the same. For in his hands he wields an axe, destroyer of all "the trees that stand so proudly," a weapon which "With but one stroke could lay them low."

Example 17 (mm. 84-87)

£ > A X f A Example 17 (cont.)

^Ti* mixtc aae that, itcai-ing acax them. W ith but one stroke could lay them low.

In this same vein, what irony fills Satyavan1s ingenuously naive words in Example 16, "Like a spectre of the forest, Night’s gloomy pall is drawing nigh,1’ where the advance of Death’s funere­ al cloak is plainly intimated. So Satyavan returns to his wife, leaving behind the dark and velvety pall of Death as it covers the forest in night. Yet he carries Death with him in his hand— his axe, the dreadful claimant of tree and shrub. And as he leaves

Death yonder in the forest, while he carries Death in his hands, he returns to Savitri where Death awaits him at home.

The strong tie between prey and enemy is further marked by the music, where the last stage of merging identities is made sure musically Satyavan becomes Death himself. First of all, it is sig nificant that Satyavan’s Theme M (Examples 16 and 17), though out­ wardly distinct from Death’s melodic motifs, is set upon the same center, A. This is, of course, important in itself. Yet this com mon modal placement also allows for the same perfect fifth, A-E, which set Death’s declaration, ”1, the Summoner,” to recur in sev­ eral notable spots within Satyavan’s own lines.

Example 18 (m. 13) £9

The rising interval in Example 18, which shall consistently be re­ ferred to as Death's perfect fifth, appears in Satyavan's Theme M, specifically on the pitches, A and E. Here he speaks to his axe, the symbol of Death becoming animate, and bids farewell to it as a friend. Yet no sooner does he discard his 'friend' than musi­ cally he retrieves it, calling out to his wife on Death's rising fifth, proclaiming almost jubilantly, "To a fairer love I go."

Ironically, through the use of this interval, Satyavan himself foreshadows his encounter with the Summoner, unknowingly declaring who actually awaits him at home.

Example 19 (mm. 88-89)

D esritfs r*M. s ir mu )

Fftre*wcll,fri«nd, tke morn;

Satyavan's use of Death's perfect fifth does more than re­ late the two characters and point toward the confrontation that will arise between them. It serves also to connect Savitri with

Death, for it is she to whom Satyavan calls, "So to thee I am re­ turning," and "To a fairer love I go." To whom is Satyavan return­ ing? Who is this fairer love? The use of the perfect fifth here strongly harks back to the phrase, "I, the Summoner," and in a sense answers our question, marking Savitri herself, the adoring wife, as an extension of Death (Example 20). 50 Example 20 (from Examples 16 and 19)

SATYAVArt £ * t y a y * h (•04t SAVITRI)

So to thee I re • turn - To « fair • ex ,love I go.

' b e a t K ’b F w f t h

Tne Mirror and The Nameless Unknown

Once Satyavan concludes his song and greets his wife, he no­

tices the presentiment and fear which darkens her countenance#

Troubled, he inquires, "But thou art pale and trembling, What ails

thee?" Here the latter three words, "What ails thee?," are set

upon Death*s rising perfect fifth, A-E, clearly implying the an­

swer to Satyavan*s question#

Example 21 (mm# 97-99)

5>rr^AvAM

j- £ ------ti— t,— t*— ------1------h----- r ------^------*------

But thou a rt pale and tremb-ling, What ails thee?

In response to her husband*s inquiry Savitri murmurs, "The

forest is to me a mirror," making use of Death's Motif C*, reiter­

ating the association between Death and the forest, as night's

"gloomy pall" enshrouds the trees which stand as ultimate victims

of SatyavanTs axe#

Example 22 (mm. 100-101)

£*T/A\/ANJ c/

T h e for - e»t to . i me m m»r M . t 51

In Example 22 above, Savitri!s dotted rhythmic motif occurs

on the words, "me a mirrorf 11 bringing about an important effect.

For not only does the rhythm associate these words with all else

that is set to this pattern, but, being now familiar and recogniz­

able, it causes the specific words set upon it to stand out of

textual context, to rise in relief from the surrounding words.^

Thus, in addition to identifying the forest as a mirror of Death,

an important analogy in itself, Savitri has thusly labeled her­

self, "me a mirror," by use of her own rhythmic motif. In addi­

tion, as she sings these words by way of Deathfs Motif C*, her role

as a reflection of Death is made plain and is further underscored

by the instrumental repeat of this same motif in the orchestra un­

der the word, "mirror."

Example 23 (mm. 100-102)

Savitri and Death are not alone in the unifying reflection of identity seen in the preceding example. Satyavan, too, is seen in the glass. For as Death!s work is fraught in the world of mor­ tals, Satyavan!s workshop is the forest where he fells trees as

Death claims men. Thus, the forest is a mirror of Death, of Sa­ vitri, and of Satyavan, an exemplary interconnection symbolizing 52

the larger reflection of all things in all things, the highest

unity,

Savitri continues her lines, "The forest is to me a mirror wherein I see another world." Considering the text alone, this

phrase is replete with weighty implications. How might one gaze

into a mirror and view another world? After all, mirrors are faith­

ful pictures of that which they reflect. One looks into a mirror

and sees oneself, or the tangible surroundings of the space in which

one stands. The reproduction on the glass is as precise as the ori­

ginal, so much so that, under certain circumstances, the distinction

between the reflector and the reflected may be less than clear.

Yet, regardless of the exactness of the image on the flat two-

dimensional surface, the mirror is not fully that which it so per­

fectly depicts. This is a fundamental truth one forgets when look­

ing into a mirror. We see ourselves, yet it is not really ourselves

that we see. Our visages, the paintings on the walls behind us, the

chairs to the left, the windows to the right— when viewed in the

glass they are no longer faces, walls, paintings, chairs, windows.

They are said to be seen TinT the mirror, but what elements of the

corporeal world can be perceived 'in1 a flat surface?

Yes, they are real, but they lie beyond our rational ken, in

some other dimension. And those things which lie beyond man 18 log-

cal understanding defy description and labeling, they are "nameless and unknown." This is why Savitri gazes into a mirror and knows that she sees another world, one somehow different from the world so aptly pictured in the glass. There is no need for an actual mirror in Holst's story, for the world itself, the forest, Savitri, 53

Death, Satyavan, these are all mirrors, images, reflections, or perhaps symbols of something else. They are more than what they appear to be on the surface. On one level, they may be labeled and identified, just as Holst, in essence, labels and identifies his characters, distinguishing them from one another by use of various musical styles, motifs and themes. But such labeling, if not un­ derstood for what it truly is, may be immensely misleading. For below the surface all is one, and when •All* obliterates 'other

7 everything in fact becomes nameless and unknown. • •

Example 24 (mm. 100-107)

S a v i i r ’l

fo r-e s t is to me * mir - ror where-in 1 ace u • oth - er world,

M —- -- He? -r~m\ - r - V W ^ ^ ^

As Savitri describes what she sees, "a world where all is nameless, unknown,” Holst makes use of the whole tone scale (the only instance of this scale in the score) to effect a sense of equality, a reiteration of all things being the same. Even the

F augmented triad outlined in the accompaniment derives from this same scale. Such a realization of oneness is often less than com­ fortable, however, not only as it nullifies traditional logic, but also because it can annihilate the sense of self. Such perhaps is the horror Savitri feels as she shudders, declaring that this other world is "sick with fear." Here it is important to note that the 54

Ctj on the word, "fear,11 is the first pitch to depart from the whole tone setting. Apparently this other world of greater oneness and its equalizing power is not yet understood by Savitri, appearing absurd and even frightening. And the fear born of ignorance, set here by the , is not part of that fuller dimension beyond mundane nomenclatures, that dimension symbolized musically by the whole tone

scale.

It should be mentioned at this point that Savitri1s fear may

merely be attributed to her awareness of Death and his presence everywhere she looks. After all, the forest has been set up as a

mirror of Death; it seems likely that Savitri would look upon it with nameless and unspeakable fears. Such an interpretation is

certainly valid, but it is only a single view, and the most obvi­

ous one at that. The former view, however, that being stressed

above, is one in which Death is strongly being associated with a nameless, unknown world, a world in which he may be seen as the

'passing away1 of the distinctions brought about by naming and g knowing in the intellectual sense. So, if Savitri fears Death,

so too does she fear the death of the rational world. For a state of complete oneness is permeated with the ever-present death of material distinctions. When not fully comprehended, such a state, of course, becomes quite terrifying.

The particular passage above (Example 24), in its astounding brevity, makes clear through several musical devices the idea of union. As already discussed, the greatest antithesis to unity is the recognition of mutually exclusive 'things', an earthly concept neutralized musically here by the whole tone scale. Another musical 55 technique employed to depict unity is the directional contour of

Savitri's melodic line. On the phrase, "wherein I see another

world," the melody rises stepwise. Whereas, immediately follow­

ing, when Savitri reveals the characteristics of this other world,

the melody descends stepwise, as if to suggest, in T.S. Eliot's

words, "the way up is the way down."9 Such is the case, that there

can be no true polar direction in an atmosphere of utter unity.

Maya— The Veil of Illusion

It is here in the opera, after Savitri discloses a portion

of her dread premonitions to her husband, that Maya is introduced,

the superlative enchantress, the queen of illusion. Satyavan im­

putes his wife's black disquietude to this veiling force, maintain­

ing that it is she, Maya, who subverts the sensory perceptions of

humans, concealing as many aspects of the total reality as is pos­

sible. At this spot in the score, the wordless chorus of female

voices enters and with the chamber orchestra sounds an F minor

triad, not establishing a key or tonic chord, but rather present­

ing the harmonic sonority that will be identified specifically with

Maya.

Example 25 (m. 108) S A T r * v 4 > J lit. M IM mtamrm 56

The problem of Maya, of illusion in general, is one which bears heavily all through the opera, extensions of which will be detected in endless ramifications and levels of thought* One's awareness of her and of Holst's portrayal of her powers within the music will first allow for the realization that, due in part to illusory in­ fluences, all is not what it initially seems to be. This most ob­ vious aspect of Maya has already been demonstrated musically in con­ nection with all three of Holst’s characters. Yet Maya's sway ex­ tends much further, blurring wisdom even when one has penetrated beyond the external covering of earthly perception. For even within those spiritually elevated realms which men on occasion roam, Maya also treads. It is the failure to recognize her powers even there which becomes a barb in the side of many a mystic. 10

As Satyavan continues singing of Maya, the harmonies alternate 6 between F minor and A^, both colored by chromatic oscillations which tend to obscure harmonic clarity. As was the case with the rising and falling melodic line cited in Example 24, the relationship of these two chords involves both upward and downward movement, a dual motion even more telling here because of the fact that both ascent and descent occur simultaneously. The bass line moves downward, while the upper voices, along with the implied root direction, pro­ ceed upward. A further duality is brought about by a combination of both mediant and half-step relationships, the progression from F minor to A^ representing the former and the chromatic fingered tremolos re­ presenting the latter. In support of the half-step relationship is the relatively strong leading tone effect between E and F in bar 108 and between BH and Cjl in bar 109 (Example 26). Example 26 (ram. 108-113)

S A T f A V A N

is more, Look •-round — A ll that thou

■eest Trees and shrubs. Th e gTasj st thy feet, A ll th it w tlk i or creeps, 58 Example 26 (cont.)

Fm in. F mln. 59 Examining “the foregoing example, it. can be seen that the

F minor triad underlays specifically the text which speaks of

Maya herself, while the A^ sets that text referring to those

aspects of the physical world which are affected by her per­

nicious power. And, as Satyavan proposes, "Our bodies, our

limbs, our very thoughts, we ourselves are slaves to Maya."

In this vein, Holst!s notational choice on the last two state­

ments of the name, Maya, is noteworthy, for the spelling itself

is deceiving. The harmony in the chorus, FG#C, is merely a

masking of the F minor triad, which to this point has been

spelled with an At. Again, such spelling may simply be fil­

ling the needs of practical notation; the half-step descent

may be easier to sing if written A to G# rather than A to P.'p.

Yet, if such were the case, why has not the composer chosen to 11 use the G# throughout?

By declaring that "All is Maya," Satyavan by necessity

includes himself. And as this declaration occurs upon Savi-

tri's dotted rhythmic motif, and as the phrase, "Maya is more,"

occurs upon a variation of Death's Motif C 1, it instantly at­

tests that all three characters— Death, Savitri, and Satyavan—

are affected to some degree by Maya; certain features of their

personalities, especially those which cause them to appear as

distinct and differentiated entities, are mere extensions of

the world of illusion. This point is vastly significant and

should be borne in mind as the opera continues to unfold (Ex­ ample 27). 60 Example 27 (id. 109 and mm. 110-111)

Though the mother of illusion has been revealed as one whose powers prevent humanity from ascertaining truth from fantasy, Sat­ yavan, in the next few lines, conjectures that there may yet exist some vehicles of reality.

Example 28 (mm. 113-125)

S>j\t v a >/an A**grio. 61 Example 28 (cont.)

"Love to the lover, The child to the mother, the song to the singer, God to the worshipper. These wand-ring thro1 the world of Maya are perchance shadows of that which is.” The hope inher­ ent in such words is superbly expressed in Holst's melodic writ­ ing, which becomes warmly lyrical in sharp contrast to the reci- tative-like line which precedes. This faith and yearning aspira­ tion is wonderfully reflected in the continuous rising of the mel­ odic line, a striving upward reach which attains its summit on the word, "God."

It is amazing here how well Holst has carried the listener along, as if, in the heat of impassioned hope, Maya has been de­ bilitated. But such is not so. One may believe that he has un­ masked fantasy and left it behind, moving forth to higher and more rarefied levels of awareness, seeing truth in love, motherhood, music, deity. But, as stated before, Maya's dominion is ample, it extends in some degree to even the higher planes of understand­ ing. Even holy divinity, as perceived by man, cannot escape, for as Satyavan lights gloriously upon "God," the orchestra immediate- 6 ly stops, only to come in one beat late on A^, the very sonority which Holst has used previously to represent those elements of 63 currently suggests an F# minor-seventh chord, creating an air of harmonic ambivalence* The lines of hopeful expectancy, so fervid­ ly delivered just moments ago, have been somewhat qualified. For,

not only are these possible conveyors of truth mere shadows of re­

ality, but reality or, as.Satyavan phrases it, "that which is,"

remains harmonically unclear because shadows are only distorted

likenesses, misshapen in symmetry and size, and, being flat like

a mirror, missing certain dimensions from the original.

Example 29 (mm. 125-127)

f\ Major or p # fl'mor 7ik

Before continuing, one should consider the harmony occur­

ring on the phrase, "These wand-ring thro' the world of Maya are

perchance shadows of that which is." The C§ in the melody, when

sounded against the minor third, F-Ab, in the orchestra, is seen

to obscure what is simply a major triad in first inversion (ex­

ample 30). 64 Example 30 (mm. 122-124)

These wand-ring thro’ the world of M j . ya

XT ------f

------

It is noteworthy that the Db major triad above was the first

vertical harmony to occur in the opera. It arose when Death1s

Motif A 9 set to Savitri*s rhythmic motif, appeared in the viola,

sounding an Ab joined three bars later by Db and F in the flutes.

This initial harmony is made even more salient by the fact that

it coincides with the first instrumental entry of the piece.

Before this spot the music had been solely vocal. Immediately,

this Db triad is associated with Death due to the presence of

his Motifs A and C T.

Example 31 (mm. 43-48)

The next time the Db major triad occurs is just eight bars later when Savitri sings of the oneness between her husband and herself,

"He in whom I live," Thus, within the space of a few bars, this 65 triadic harmony has been associated with all three of Holst’s characters,

Example 32 (mm, 54-57)

'ftT r

The composer has appropriately chosen the Db harmony to set

Satyavan*s phrase, "These wand-ring thro1 the world of Maya," for, through the text and the harmony with its confused enharmonic spelling, he has equated Death, Savitri, and Satyavan with all which must roam Maya’s domain. To further emphasize Maya’s hold over those who wander her kingdom, it shall be remembered that the sonority of F minor has specifically been connected with Maya.

If the CH in the vocal line is not considered as a chord tone, the

F and Ab in the orchestra clearly suggest the F minor triad.

Example 33 (mm. 122-124)

ftATTAVAJL dim 66

Satyavan, due to the fact that it is he who is singing in

Example 33, is especially linked to Maya, warning the listener that

what he says cannot be taken at face value alone. This, of course,

is not the first time the woodsman has been related to the bewil­

dering sway of illusion. Already discussed are the uncertainties

revealed in his Themes L and M, melodies which on an outward level

appeared so candid and straightforward. These uncertainties are

in fact foreshadowed by his wife before Satyavan even comes on

stage. Savitri calls out her husband!s name, referring to his

strength and courage, "Satyavan, He the strong and fearless one."

Yet curiously enough, the sustained harmony in the strings and

winds is the F minor triad, the musical symbol of Maya, a pre­

sence which instantly renders Savitri!s description of her hus­

band suspect, a description which emphasizes Satyavanfs unique­

ness and thus his distinction as a separate entity.

Example 34 (mm. 4-9-51)

In addition to the emasculating effect this harmony has on

Satyavan*s supposed strength and courage, its particular placement within the piece is equally significant. Just four bars previous is the Db major triad mentioned in Example 31 as the first harmony to appear in the opera, one which links Holst's three main char­ acters. Following this DJ> is an A minor triad, the root of which

serves as tonal center for Death's opening motifs. The A minor

triad is then succeeded by another Db triad, which in turn leads

directly into the F minor triad seen in Example 34 above. In

short, the first three harmonies of the opera, within five bars,

keenly link Savitri, Satyavan, and Death together, relinquishing

all three to the all-enveloping powers of Maya. 12

Example 35 (mm. 44-51)

It may be felt that the writer has set too much importance

upon the placement of harmonies and their relationship to the li­

bretto. Still# it should be noted that in an harmonic background

largely characterized by either ambivalent or nonexistent tonali­

ties, with no great abundance of tertial structures, at least not in this portion of the score, the triad forms referred to above 68 are somewhat unique. They have no bond with one another tonally or functionally, so there must be some other reason for their use; the composer1s choice cannot be considered arbitrary. Holst was 1 3 an extraordinarily fastidious composer, ' and a random selection of harmonies to casually underlay any part of the text is not in keeping with his compositional approach. With this in mind, it may safely be assumed that the harmonies discussed here and else­ where are definitely significant. The writer}s interpretation of this significance, though one among others, is consistent with the overall spirit of the work and will be further justified as the analysis proceeds.

The Circle of Death

Once Satyavan has charged that it is Maya who has ensnared his wife, tormenting her with illusory phantoms, Savitri almost regretfully declares that it is not so. Her terrors are not the result of illusions. The horrors that beset her are apparently those of a greater reality. She perceives that black truth which, lying beneath the colorful but pacifying surface, permeates all that is: "Once I knew Maya, Now she is forgot, Mine eyes are open, would they were shut, I see the heart of ev-ry tree, pale with terror, The elves that dance upon the grass blades crouching earthward."

Example 36 (mm. 128-132)

S a v i t r i

Once 1 knew M i - ji , Now the » for. 69 Example 36 (cont.)

paJe wrtb ter-ror, The d m that ikncc up-on the g n u bla

Savitri continues, and, not believing that her husband can­

not sense the doom which to her is so evident, she asks, "Dost thou

not feel? Ah! Canst thou not see?11 Still not knowing of what she

speaks, Satyavan responds, "I see nought. What ails thee?" Death!s

presence is more than clear musically as Motif B enters in its or­

iginal key, yet Satyavan still senses nothing, while his wife seems

to see all.

Example 37 (mm. 133-135)

What, however, does Savitri really see? She believes her vision carries her beyond the spurious world of Maya. She sees the blackness that none else perceive. She sees Death, the in­ evitable claimant of all that lives. But Death, through his re- 70 lationship with Savitri and her husband, and directly with Maya as well, has already been connected with illusion. If Savitri sees Death, viewed as the expropriator of souls, it is not the highest reality she sees. Indeed, within the final bars of the opera, Death is disclosed as perhaps the most subtly bewitching artifice of Maya herself.

In answer to her husband*s ignorance, Savitri declares, "He doth come." Whereupon Satyavan defiantly asks, 11 He? Whom dost thou mean? A foe?" Still Satyavan does not realize the presence of Death, even though his own line, by use of Death!s rising per­ fect fifth, A-E, makes plain the nature of nis foe.

Example 38

The following bars proceed to merge Satyavan with Death in a most remarkable manner. Instantly in defense, Satyavan lifts his axe and seeks his foe, carrying Death in his hands to kill

Death in the forest— the forest which conceals Death from Sat­ yavan and which is home to the trees for which Satyavan himself is Death. The axe, as an emblem of Death, is again reiterated when, upon Deathfs rising fifth, A-E, Satyavan cries out, "Mine 71 axe,n patently equating the weapon with the enemy it seeks. And

Satyavan, as the wielder of Death, is made clear just one bar later as Savitri cries out, "Satyavan," again on a rising perfect fifth.

Example 39 (mm. 133-145) 72 Example 39 (cont.)

Studying the foregoing example, it can be seen that even

tonality fuses Death and Satyavan, Death’s Motif B having entered in A minor at the beginning of the example and Satyavan !s Theme M following in a derivative of the same mode, dorian, and on the same tonal center, A. The grand paradox has been established with- 73 out question. Music and text both aver explicitly that Death ar.d

Satyavan are one, hunter and prey are the same.

Savitri too, however, is included in this fusion, for, just as the tonal footing of A has linked Death and Satyavan, that of

E links Death to Savitri. As Satyavan explodes in a rage toward his prospective opponent, who he has yet to see, he does so by use of his own Theme M in its original tonality, A dorian. When Sat­ yavan first sang Theme M, it concluded with an abrupt tonal shift to E major/minor, in which tonality Theme L commenced as he joy­ ously proclaimed, "Home unto thee, my loving Savitri." When

Theme M was repeated just moments later, it was again succeeded by the same shift from A to E, this time setting the phrase,

"Greeting to thee my loving Savitri." Indeed, each time Theme L has occurred thus far, it has been in connection with Satyavan's warm salutations to his beloved wife.

Example 40

Greet - ing __ to thee itit lov - irg Si-ri-tri: ' L ~ E rlij/nin 74 To this point in the opera, E major/minor has only been used to set Satyavan*s Theme L, this tonal area therefore being associ­ ated only with Savitri and the endearing sentiments her husband has for her. In Example 41 below, as Satyavan seeks after his enemy, using his Theme M, the identical shift from A dorian to

E major/minor takes place. But where he previously sang blithe- fully of returning home to his beloved wife, he now cries out in reference to his axe and to its attack on Death, "It thirsteth for thy lifeblood." Now the adoring wife herself is entwined in the confused tangle of Death pursuing Death.

Example 41 (mm. 142-145) Savitn

Nty,

wr*th

M — A Dorian (^,'tk C* 75

Even without the music, the text alone in the previous ex­ ample strongly portrays a unique circle of Death. Satyavan pro­ claims that his axe hungers for Deathfs overthrow, it thirsteth for Deathfs lifeblood. Irony is obvious enough as Satyavan's axe, itself a symbol of Death, hungers to overthrow Death. But this irony is taken even further when the text implies that Death is a living creature, that he possesses "lifeblood," Even if this im­ plication is seen as the result of Satyavan not knowing who his enemy is, the suggestion is still unmistakable. Yet, is this pushing the concept of unity too far? Surely it would seem that

Death and Life could not be related in this way. Still, the unity of Holst’s mysticism and the unity of the Hindu writings from which he draws this story is not selective, it cannot be qualified, it encompasses all. Therefore, Life and Death must not be the poles one assumes them to be. If seen as opposites, they are nothing more than extensions of Maya. Certainly one of the great moments in the opera is the final unmasking of the supposed antagonist, the identification of Death as something much different than the irre­ vocable annihilator.

Death Becomes Flesh

As regards Death and his perhaps tenuous connection with re­ ality, it is vital to note that, though the weight and immensity of his presence is strongly felt by all, he has not yet appeared on stage. His opening lines, so well fixed in the listener's mind, are uttered from a distance, the speaker himself not being seen b^ the audience. Even the orchestra which frequently repeats his in- 76 delible motifs is hidden from sight. Nonetheless, through the

music, Death has been made as tangible as the characters which

can clearly be seen. The time, however, has come for Death to

materialize, a sense of presence now becoming incarnate before

the viewer. He is now to become palpable, not a vague event or

indescribable occurrence which takes place at some point in a per­

son s existence, but an actual being, an idea personified.

After Satyavan1s foolishly heroic outburst, Death slowly ap­

pears. Drawing nigh, his victim staggers, dropping his axe. Here,

if nowhere previously, Death is made real. To see him, it would

seem, would make more certain his actuality. Yet the music does

not support such a tangibly visual fact, for as Death enters he

is accompanied in the orchestra by his own Motif B in F minor, the

tonal symbol of Maya. Also, Death becomes musically removed from himself by the fact that it is not he who renders his motivic ma­ terial when he appears before the audience. It is the orchestra which delivers his themes while he remains silent. We see Death, and, in seeing him, he becomes physically embodied. But perhaps the most powerful illusions are not those which take on the na­ ture of dreams and fantasies, but rather those which pass as cor­ poreal forms in a material world which accepts such things as real.

Example 1*2 (mm. H 6 - H 9 )

fiU 4*4 f§JU fr*M kit JUmJ: I• tUfgwrt 77

As Satyavan falters, he calls painfully to his wife, "Savitri,

Savitri, my arm is powerless." It has been made clear that Savitri and Satyavan are one, insomuch as that which threatens one threatens both. Here again, the use of the characteristic interval of a fifth unites husband and wife. Yet, in this instance, it also bespeaks the peril that will effect them both, for the interval is disfig­ ured, the perfect fifth constricted to a tritone. Furthermore, the fatal arrival of Death has turned the fifth about, it descends from D to Afc as Satyavan calls his wife's name. Savitri employs the same two pitches, rising from D to Afc> as she runs to aid her husband.

Example 4-3 (mm. 148-150)

The use of the same interval and the same pitches in such close succession well reveals the danger that imperils both char­ acters. Yet the significance of these two pitches and the special qualities inherent in the tritone itself are just as important.

First, it will be noticed that Satyavan's tritone descends while

Savitri's rises, the pitches D to At being identical in each.

This reaffirms the notion of downward and upward motion being syn­ onymous. But the particular interval involved thoroughly proves this to be the case. For the tritone, whether rising or falling, does not change upon inversion: up or down, two apparently unre- 78 concilable extremes are indeed the same. What better method to unify Satyavan and his wife than to do so within an equalization of polarities. Upon recognition of such musical unification, it is almost needless to add that both descending and ascending tri­ tones are set to Savitri*s dotted rhythmic pattern.

It should be mentioned here that, on one level, the tritone can be seen as representing evil or danger, as it has done through­ out centuries of tone painting. Deathfs presence does support such an interpretation. Yet, considering the analysis so far, the tritone and its particular usage here must also be recognized as a reflection of the unity between Satyavan and his wife.

Within the next nine bars, Holst succeeds remarkably in mu­ sically bringing together the three characters in a mass of con­ trapuntal interplay. The orchestra delivers all of Death’s main motifs, not in horizontal order, but stacked upon each other in stretto fashion. As Motif B repeats in the lower strings in F minor,

Motifs A and C* occur above in the English horn in D minor, followed by Motif E in Ab phrygian. Savitri*s and Satyavan!s lines when taken alone randomly suggest several harmonies or tonalities.

For example, Satyavanfs line, ’’Sa v i t r i , where art thou?," outlines

F minor, while Savitri !s phrase, 111 am with thee, my arms are round thee," implies Bb or possibly Eb major. The only tertian sonority that recurs with any consistency is the D diminished tri­ ad. This chord is rather crucial, for it unifies the three main tonalities within which Death's motifs occur: D, F, and Ab« It thus reconciles the tonal diversity of Death’s melodic material within one harmonic unit (Example 44)* 79 Example 44 (mm. 146-158)

ffnlh /rvwt Ail Und: k* it*ggrr$.

Si - ri-tri, mine «xini» pov’r-lev.

S*t - yi * T in .____ n S av' rtri f K h ^ «■* i«»J w — ----^--p - ■ ■■ « = ^ , Sfct-ym - van -f~------» ,---- i ------^—5------*------

-4 ^ ..... —------: -J ■■— ------■* d8£ M *>*;£> L ~ - * 2 M i n . ^

_ V ' * -; . 4.4- 4 4 — ^ _ Q _ 80 Example 44 (cont.)

The D diminished triad, which consolidates the tonalities of

Death’s motivic material in the preceding example, serves also to unite him with Savitri and Satyavan. For husband and wife, and the mutual jeopardy that awaits their, both, have been closely linked by the descending and ascending tritone noted above in Example 43 > specifically employing the pitches D and Ab. And it is just this interval and the D diminished triad which it encompasses which dom­ inates the harmony throughout this passage.

So it is, that through melody, rhythm, and harmony, Holst has brought order to an area of contrapuntal complexity, unifying musical and dramatic divergencies. And, once again, the composer 81

manifests his ability to create a passage that functions success­

fully on more than one level. Here, the most obvious aspects of

the polyphonic independence of lines and ideas stun and intrigue

the ear, dramatically distinguishing each character, setting them

apart while at the same time pitting them against one another.

Yet, from another vantage point and upon a different plane, this

seeming autonomy of individual lines and the conflict developed

between them is recognized rather as a multiplex extension of one

central musical and dramatic idea.

Savitri's Lullabv

At the close of the vividly graphic scene described above,

Satyavan at last sinks to the ground, his final debilitated mel­

odic rise from A't> to BVV superbly depicting the enervating effect

of Death's arrival. In answer to Satyavan's expiring wail, "Savi­

tri where art thou?," his wife commences an endearing lullaby, a

sublime song of vigilance and devotion. The line is simple and naturally lyrical, but not passionately so; Savitri here displays no intemperate sorrow or inordinate alarm. In contrast to the an­ xiety she has thus far exhibited, her mood is calm, almost as if she has not yet accepted the full meaning of Death's coming.

Example 45 (mm. 159-175) 82

Example 45 (cont.)

In the preceding example, the melodic nature of Savitri!s

lullaby of devotion is tranquil and reassuring, presenting a re­

latively clear and simple formal structure of repeated motifs and

phrases. In fact, this staid arietta represents Savitrirs only

lines which are not essentially through-composed. Its beauty is,

indeed, direct and accessible.

The text of Savitrifs lullaby is of interest as well. The first lines, "I am with thee, my arms are round thee, Thy thoughts are mine, My spirit dwells with thee," reaffirms the affinity of 83

Savitri and her husband. It is with the next phrases, however, that

the ideal of union is made most telling, complete oneness being seen

as the bringing together of presumed opposites: "When thou art weary

I am watching, When thou sleepest I am waking, When in sorrow I am

near making it a thing of joy." With these words, it would seem

as if Satyavan represents one pole and Savitri its counterpart.

But* as husband and wife are one, these poles become complementary

rather than opposed, fused in cooperative accord.

Of especial note here in Savitri’s lullaby and later on, is

Holst!s use of pedal tones, their singular aural effect of equal­

izing all other musical elements, or perhaps even neutralizing or

’absorbing* them, being highly suggestive of unity. In addition,

any lengthy sustained tone becomes a ’presence’, one which influ­

ences all that takes place about it, one which is constant even

though it may be recognized only on a subconscious level after it

has persisted for quite some time. Thus, Savitri1s melodic line

and the words which she sings, though both clearly distinct and

intelligible, are perhaps not exclusively significant in and of

themselves. Perhaps they are not only to stand out individually

in relief, but also to be recognized as part of a larger whole,

extensions of an essence which is reflected in the ever-present

pedal tone. The composer’s use of pedals as the opera progresses

shall render more clear this observation.

As has already been seen, Holst’s opera unfolds simultane­ ously on more than one level, that which is readily discernible accompanied by wbat is more subtle and penetrating. The former is often rpade rnanifest in the most ostensive musical differentia- 84 tion of characters, another example of which occurs at the close

of Savitrifs lullaby. Here, as Savitri continues in D dorian,

Death’s Motif B enters in FH minor, the eliding of the contrast­

ing tonal areas serving well to set the two characters apart.

Example 4-6 (mm. 172-175)

S a v i t r i

Once Death’s proximity has again been made clear by the in­

strumental recurrence of his melodic material and by the fact that he continues to draw ever nearer Savitri and her prostrate husband, the woman turns from her idyllic song of nurturing affection to darker lines, solemnly murmuring the following:

Example 47 (mm. 176-183) 85 Example 47 (eont.)

Again stressing the most obvious interpretation of the above

passage, these statements can be made. First, Death's approach is

powerfully reflected in the orchestral writing, which is dominated

entirely by the occurrence of his motivic material. The libretto,

too, demonstrates the frightful lord's overwhelming presence: "Through

the forest creeps the darkness— All is dark and cold and still."

Earlier in the opera this encroaching darkness was identified by

Satyavan as "Night's gloomy pall," Death's loathesome cloak draw­

ing over the forest. And the forest itself has been equated with

the death which stalks its confines, not only that which lies con-

cealed and waiting for Satyavan, but also that which Satyavan in­ flicts upon the trees. And now Satyavan himself lies lifeless in his wife's lap. No small wonder that Savitri declares that the 86 world has become a grave and that she alone remains living. For without Satyavan, virtually all else would seem dead. Yet this is only one explanation of this scene, thoroughly justifiable, but perhaps not complete. Another appraisal of Savitri's words will reveal quite a different picture.

Thus far, Death has been presented as a fearful and odious creature. Both music and text have made this explicit. Surely this is how Death is viewed by most mortals, and on one level, this is the view held in Holst's opera. But considered as defini­ tive, this judgement is misleading. Death, when only understood in this way, is an illusion. Savitri has said that all is cold and dark and still, that all the world is a grave. Yet this can assume quite a different meaning if the worldwide tomb is seen not only as the demise of material existence, but also as the end of all dis­ tinctions, the dissolution of all things which deny the divine unity.

The connection between Death and the passing of all that exists in the realm of unresolved differences is an important one which fig­ ures frequently in the Hindu writings. As one discovers that all discrimination is in some ways delusive, including the belief that the individual 'self is a distinct entity, he gradually pushes such notions aside, proceeding to broader planes of awareness.

The conceptions of 'self* set in a world of other 'selves1 and other 'things', the acceptance of differentiations which can sure­ ly persist after 'mortal' death and make necessary the endless chain 1 L of reincarnation or 'samsara* — all these beliefs loose their pow­ erful grasp and 'pass away'. One experiences the 'death' of his existence as he formerly perceived it. His desires, his will, his 87 longings as a ’se l f ’ a l l die. The individual is given up to death, 15 darkness, and blissful extinction. Visions into higher realms of reality testify to an all-pervading oneness, a unity which pre­ cludes the multiplexities of a diversified material state where the 1 self1 reigns supreme. The exclusiveness and separateness of distinctions are broken and individual entities fail. What is ex- perienced is the darkness* felt by St. John of the Cross, 16 Novak's 17 'nothingness1, the cold prehistory of Sibelius1 Scandinavian for- 18 ests, the stillness of simply knowing intuitively. Indeed, all the world becomes a grave. All is death, not the black ghoul who frequents horror stories, but a blessed, rapturous surcease which initiates one into truth.

Certainly death, when seen in this manner, is not the antithe­ sis to life, but the introduction to a more complete life. Thus, when

Savitri utters the seemingly incongruous statement, "I alone am liv­ ing," after stating that all is death, she is not actually contra­ dicting herself, but reaffirming that Life and Death in one sense are the same, a fact made musically and dramatically convincing toward the end of the opera.

It may be argued that Savitri*s assertion that she alone lives amidst a mass universal grave does not counter her previous statement anyway, because she, in her own mind, does not actually include herself amongst that which is dead, she is simply devas­ tated by her husband's death. Yet musically she is part of all that is dark and cold and still, this being manifest by means of her own dotted rhythmic motif repeating upon itself, the rhythm 88 which first introduced her name. And thus, as part of the all- inclusive darkness, Savitri lives.

Example 48 (mm. 179-180)

is dark and cold and ttil) 'Reyei»«n of tA*t-

It can be said that the most immediate explanation for the dotted rhythm above is that of an apt metrical setting for the text. And speaking the sentence aloud indicates that such a set­

ting is most natural. Such practical correspondence between text

and music can be seen throughout the opera, a natural agreement which can also be detected in the most obvious levels of tone paint­

ing. In fact, it has been noted by several critics that Holst was particularly adept at setting the language. Yet, all this need not detract from the type of dramatic interpretation discussed above.

Both views go hand in hand and merely reiterate the many vantages from which the opera may successfully be viewed.

As has been suggested before, the occurrence of the dotted rhythmic motif does more than relate those things which are set to its pattern. It also causes words to rise up, becoming isolated somewhat from the surrounding text. This phenomenon takes place here on the phrases "I alone am living and over me the gloom is pressing," where the words "I alone" and "me the gloom," stand rhythmically out of context. The latter set, "me (Savitri) the gloom," functions to identify Savitri with the very blackness she 89 dreads, a reaffirmation that she is one with Death, one with all that is dark and cold and still. The former set, "I alone," em­ phasizes two words which, like the entire phrase, "I alone am liv­ ing,” seem, in one sense, to contradict the unity being conveyed by the passage as a whole.

Example 49 (mm. 181-183)

In connection with "I alone," the word ’I1, by syntactical

necessity separates itself from 'him1 or ’he r 1 or 'then1. And

falone! implies a separateness from others, a state very differ­

ent from being among others, or being with 1 All1, if we are think­

ing on a high level of oneness. Both words, "I alone," logically

speaking, detract from an ideal union. But logic is not always

based on the broadest truths. When one sees himself, not as a dis­

tinct ego, but as a particle of the whole, 'I1 comes to represent

TA11 in me and me in All*. And the word, falone!, stands not for

separation or remove, but for an immersion in all that is. Being alone is recognizing that nothing is 1 there1 as opposed from ’here1, in other words, nothing that is not you. Thus, upon closer scrutiny, the words, "I alone," underscore greatly the concept of oneness, and the dotted rhythm which has caused these two words to stand out is also the rhythm which ties them to nearly all else in the opera. 90

Death and Love— Holiness and Evil

Following Savitri1s acknowledgement of Death's approach, she continues her lullaby:

Example 50 (mm. 183$-188)

The text in this example is extremely important, prompting a re-

evaluation of the common views of birth and death, as well as the

true power of love. The line which stands out most immediately

is that in which Savitri states that Satyavan is enshrouded in

her love. The word 'enshrouded1 is instantly striking, suggest­

ing that Savitri's love is like a death cloth for her own hus­

band. The obvious allusion to death and the preparation of one's

mortal self for the tomb invites a closer look at the preceding

lines where Savitri sings, ’’Li k e to a babe in his mother s robe.

In this context, the mother's robe may be seen as analogous to

the womb, the only covering for the infant which is complete and

protective. Thus, within one sentence, the robe of conception

is paralleled with the wrappings of death. That life and death

do not necessarily lie in opposition has already been ir.entioned;

these phrases simply reiterate this fact. Here, the two most

significant phases of mortality— birth and death, entrance and 91 departure— are equated. The swathing cerements of mortal pas­

sing are likened to the encircling folds of the life-bearing

womb. Even if Savitri's use of the word 'robe' were not to sig­

nify the womb, representing merely a literal cloth wrapping the

newborn child, the connection between birth and infancy/death and

burial is yet patent.

Another aspect of these lines should be weighed: the fact

that Satyavan is being enshrouded, not by an actual grave cloth, but

by his w i f e ’s love. That death, in one sense, is a boon in Hin­

du thought has already been discussed, the most fitting decease

being not simply a cessation of mortal existence, but a release

from all in the physical sphere which is spurious and illusory.

Pure love, in both Eastern and Western thought, is a powerful el­

ement of truth, a guiding force that assists in directing one away

from the beguiling distractions which impede movement toward the

light. Thus, it is appropriate that love, recognized as a form

of redemption from illusion and falsity, embraces Satyavan, cov­

ering him like a shroud, assuring a death of the mortal self and

protection from its deceptions.

As Savitri continues her song, Death draws ever nearer,

his approach marked by the sequential repetition of his Motif B

through the ascending keys of D minor, E minor, ?H minor and

G# minor. As if in defiance, Savitri declares, "Evil powers may not approach within the hearing of my voice. Only the gods may enter here in holiness and love." Her fiery words are set to what shall be identified as Motif Q (Example 51). 92 Example 51 (mm. 188^-200) 93 Example 51 (cont.)

Of special significance in Example 51 is the outlining in

Motif Q of the A major triad on the phrase, 11 E v i l pow'rs may not approach within the hearing of my voice." The particular place­ ment here of A major is noteworthy, a placement which, by coinci­ dence of the E in the bass, is heard in second inversion on the 19 word, "pow'rs," As w i l l be recalled, this was the same sonor­ ity in this same inversion, which set the word, "God," several scenes earlier in Example 28, and, save one important instance which will be mentioned shortly, there is no occurrence of this triadic sound in this inversion throughout the entire opera out­ side these two cases.

The appearance of this A^, which sets both "God" and "Evil powers," is given further weight Dy the fact that it is more than just a quickly passing sonority. In both instances the harmonic background of A major is clearly established. In the former ex­ ample, this background is plain in both harmony and melody, held for two bars at a forte dynamic marking. In the second example, 94

A major is made obvious in the solo line and orchestra for three

bars, the concurrence of Death's Motif B in E minor in the bass

not obscuring the triadic outlines above it.

Example 52 (ram. 120-121 and mm. 191-195)

As has been stressed, Holst's opera seeks to ease the differ­

ences between presumably opposing concepts, and the composer's use

of the A major triad, as seen above, beautifully exemplifies just

such an attempt, equalizing the age-old opposition of good and evil,

the two equated here with "God" and "Evil pcw'rs." The reconcilia­ tion of good and evil, however, does not rest on the occurrence of the common triad alone. Savitri's dotted rhythmic motif reinforces the association, "Evil pow'rs" being paralleled rhythmically with 11 gods" five bars later and with ’’ho l i n e s s " two bars after that.

Furthermore, the phrase, ’’ho l i n e s s and love," occurs as a melo­

dic sequence of the earlier phrase, ’’Ev i l pow'rs may not approach,

both unified by Savitri’s Motif Q, the motif which frames the A maj

triad already discussed.

Example 53

(mm. 191-193)

(m. 197) — f— i---- 1 may cd - ter 'fcfcv Hot.

(mm. 199-200) ----- 1_rr.Vi Thf. rut

As regards the foregoing comments, it is worthwhile to note

that one of the greatest conflicts in Western thought is the end­

less contest between good and evil, a struggle frequently not re­

cognized in many Eastern philosophical systems. The absence of

such a struggle affects crucially the Hindu notion of life in gen-

eral and sets it in marked contrast to Judaeo-Christian thinking. 20

This should be kept in mind throughout the opera when considering

both life and death: it will make more accessible the manner in which the composer finally establishes without question that these

ideas, good-evil/life-death, when seen as countering one another, 96 are simply illusions.

Holst achieves the depolarization of such concepts with more than just the equating of good and evil. Indeed, he draws even nearer the Hindu ideal by questioning the actual validity of these two ideas which figure so centrally in Western religious thought.

He accomplishes this musically again through the use of the A major triad in second inversion. This harmony, which has already related the holiness of gods with evil powers, also relates both to Maya.

For it will be remembered that the A^ was the specific sonority occurring earlier as Satyavan sings to his wife of Maya, this chord representing all the falsifications of illusion, all those aspects of the physical world which are the result of M a y a ’s influence (see

Example 26). This, then, is the third instance of this particular sonority, and, as stated earlier, it occurs nowhere else in the opera besides its setting of "Evil pow’rs," 11 God*11 and the wiles of Maya mentioned here. Because of this harmony, the idea of God, at least as described by Satyavan and conceived by material man, has already been rendered dubious. Now evil, as men perceive it, the supposed antithesis to good, is also betrayed as sham, a fab­ rication of mortality effected by the blindness Maya imposes upon humanity. And as good has musically become one with evil, it too is revealed as a factitious contrivance of the queen of illusion.

As Savitrifs lullaby draws to a close, a degree of irony arises in the text. For while Death moves ever closer, Savitri emphatically cries, "Only the gods may enter here in holiness and love" (Example 54). 97 Example 54 (ram. 196-200)

S a v i t r i

In this example the listener has been offered some foresight, mo­

mentarily being made aware of the truth of S a v i t r i ’s declaration,

a truth of which even Savitri herself is at present unaware. For

Death, in one sense, is a god, one who is holy and who abides in

love. The connection between Death and love has already been seen,

pure love affording the passing away of the mortal prison. Also,

it is the caressing folds of Deathfs shroud that enwrap Satyavan

in his w i f e ’s love. And Death, in time, w i l l be regarded on one

level by the listener and by Savitri as a loving deity, a bestow-

er of gifts, indeed the giver of the greatest favor.

The passage which concludes Savitrifs lullaby and accentu­

ates Death’s advance continues with the unification of diverse el­

ements, making use once again of Savitrifs dotted rhythmic motif.

One bar following the word, "holiness,” which itself has been

rhythmically t i e d t o ’’Ev i l pow’rs," Death proclaims his presence

by calling S a v i t r i ’s name, firmly stating the rhythmic motif and

echoing it a second time one bar later. Instantly this connects

Savitri to both evil powers and holiness. Even more clear is the unquestionable parallel to Death, for immediately following his last call to her, he identifies himself with assurity, "I air. Death." 98

This, of course, is the order in which these phrases first occurred in the opening bars of the opera (Example 1). Yet there is one

important difference here; the words, "I am Death," are this time

set to the familiar dotted rhythmic pattern which, by now, is near­

ly synonymous with the name of Savitri, The analogue seems plain:

Death and Savitri are one. Both are evil, both are holy.

Example 55 (mm* 200-204.)

SAVITRI Mo-t’t-f Q r p ----- r— 2------1

ho . li - ness and love Ah' all fades

D E A TH , (clctt to ktr) ! > ♦ ' £ *

Si - vi - tii 1______!

Death is at my hrart h*' *

Once Death has firmly announced himself, he repeats in or­

iginal succession those motifs which introduced him at the begin­

ning of the opera. The tone which functions here as footing is

G rather than A, however, and his allocution is cut off at the

end of Motif C ’. Another distinction between this particular pas­

sage and that at the start is the addition here of the continuous

low bass pedal of Eb, this pedal contributing those qualities of

unifying equalization discussed previously, qualities which attain 99 great importance in the lengthy section immediately to follow.

In much twentieth century music, where tonality has not been es­

tablished by the traditional means of functional harmony, a low

sustained pedal often serves aurally to establish a pitch center.

Such is the case here, where, due to its duration for ten full

bars, the pitch Eb attains a degree of weight, thus vying for

tonal dominance with the G which functions as center for Death's

solo line above it. Moreover, hearing the EJ> as a possible cen­

ter further confuses the sense of tonal footing, for, combined

with the pitches of the melody line, a rather strong suggestion

of Eb major/minor occurs, the alternation of the G£ with the Gb

in Death s lines creating the same mixing of modes that was heard

in Example 1 (see page 34 and discussion on page 35). Whether

the G in the vocal line and the E^ pedal are heard as separate

pitch centers contending for prominence or whether one senses a

mixed modality, the resultant aural effect is nonetheless one of

uncertainty, a sense of being in more than one place at once, an

effect which may seem to subvert the strength of purpose apparent

in the text. If nothing else, it does reiterate the equivocal nature of Death, reminding us that there is more than one stance from which to view this ambivalent figure.

Example 56 (ram. 206-213)

I am the Jaw tha ro man brrak-eth, 1 am he who lcad-eth men 100

Example 56 (cont.)

o - pens for all. ------

XT

Death the Blessed God

An important structural trait characterizing the whole work is an even flow between formal areas, a continuity so smooth as to frequently obscure delineation between sections. For this rea- son, the next thirty-nine bars are unique in that they are dis­ tinctly set apart stylistically and dramatically from the surround- ing material.

Several bars earlier, as Death drew ever nigh, Savitri para­ doxically announced, "Only the gods may enter here." It is in this next passage that both Savitri and the listener are to realize the aptness of her words; the spectre, which before instilled such hor­ ror in her heart, is now to be greeted reverently, "Welcome Lord"

(Example 57). 101 Example 57 (mm. 213-223)

~ p u p ppp^. 5 102

Example 57 (cont,) 103 Musically, to mirror the attendance of a god, a mood of holy sublimity is beautifully created in the preceding example. First, an air of distance, of detached solemnity is produced by an ambiva­ lent modality. The pitch G, in one sense, seems to function as pitch center, plainly establishing the major mode. Yet, in some way this tonal base sounds uncertain. This, of course, is due in part to the sustained dominant pedal which offsets the potential strength of the tonic. Another, perhaps stronger, influence, how­ ever, is the recurrence on the downbeat in every bar of either the

C major triad or the C major-seventh chord. This not only detracts from G as tonic but affirms C as possible center, resulting in a relatively firm suggestion of the lydian mode.

This partially indeterminate modality, though contributing to an atmosphere of ethereal remoteness, does not upset the sense of a sure balance, the sense of a supernal yet stable serenity which is superbly achieved by a purely diatonic harmonic progres­ sion; virtually no chromatic tones whatsoever occur for many bars, allowing for the first use in the score of a key signature. Addi­ tionally, due to numerous suspended and common tones, a marvelous chordal equality is engendered by a melting from one chord to an­ other, diminishing the perception of harmonic change, creating the impression that all sonorities are fluctuations of or emanations from one overall harmonic essence. Furthermore, within this har­ monically homogeneous atmosphere, a sense of subtle constancy is set by the return on each downbeat of the aforementioned C major triad or major-seventh chord. Also, the remarkable sense of com­ posed equilibrium accomplished by diatonicism and smooth, fluid 104 chord motion is enhanced by the low, sustained D pedal, an abiding

'presence1 which equalizes all that is sounded above it, neutral­ izing even more the distinctions between changing harmonies, while at the same time contributing to the spirit of constancy.

One last way in which the composer lessens the sense of chord­ al change and differentiation in Example 57 is to render individual sonorities harmonically vague, specifically as regards the tone which is to be heard as root. An excellent instance of such is the harmony marked below in Example 58. Based on its particular placement, following a dominant chord in G major, which itself fol­ lows a subdominant chord, it is identified aurally as a tonic.

Yet this tonic is veiled by the fact that the suspensions YU and

A, which themselves add to the harmonic obscurity, resolve to G and E, the latter, if explained tertially, functioning as the root of a submediant seventh chord. Though the functional/chordal ana­ lysis would differ if C lydian were considered rather than G major, the same uncertainty regarding the harmonic root would still occur.

Such ambiguity of chord root can be discovered in several isolated spots throughout the score, one of which has already been discussed as Example 29. Yet its consistent usage here over many bars pro­ duces an obviously unique effect, one in keeping with the mood

Holst is creating here. Still in reference to Example 57, it is interesting that, although harmonies flow fluently one to another, decreasing both the sense of chord distinction and chord change, there exist mov­ ing parts which continually provide an ongoing current of eighth notes* Thus, a feeling of animation and motion arises within mu­ sical surroundings which otherwise might become torpid and inert.

This sense of activity is important to counteract the possible as­ sumption that balance and equality imply an impotent stillness.

Yet this activity is of a particular spirit. It is holy and di­ vine and, therefore, without compulsion. In other words, it is not impelled by earthly yearning and vain desire. Most of all, it is not a movement 'to1 or 'from1; it does not suggest departure or arrival and the necessary distinctions between 'here' and 'there', all such things being at odds with an atmosphere of all-inclusive 21 unity, consummate and complete. The diatonic setting, the smooth harmonic stream, the root ambiguity which decreases the forward drive of functional harmony, and the pervasive pedal all combine to produce a halcyon placidity, while at the same time the cease­ less eighth-note figures generate life and vitality. The result is that wondrous state wherein motion is stationary and to remain dispassionately still is to partake of that energy which never abates.

Perhaps one of the most obvious musical techniques contri­ buting in this scene to the ambiance of holiness is the entry of the four-part women's chorus (Example 57, beginning), a wordless timbre which brings to mind the long-time association between the human voice and the divine. Here, voices take precedence over in­ 106 struments, "the latter, at least in Western music, more representa­ tive of the worldly and profane. In fact, it is vital to note that all the harmony is delivered by chorus alone; save the entry of the flutes several bars into the passage, the only other instrumental

sounds are those which, by practicality, sustain the pedal tone.

The tranquil unity so well manifest in the music is also re­ flected in the text as Savitri designates Death as the "Just One,"

one who rulest all by his decree, calling all men together. As

regards this unity, the phrase in Example 57, "Thou callest men

together," is particularly interesting and requires some mention.

Certainly the differences apparent in the mortal race, the indi­

vidual bodily and personality traits identified by earthly percep­

tion, are cancelled out when humanity is brought to stand on com­

mon ground. For man must meet at that universal vortex which is

the common destiny of all that breathes, unity realized at last by

Death, not only the extinction of the body, but the passing of worldly distinctions and the emancipation from illusion. This is

one way in which Death calls men together, showing them the path by which they will find one another, allowing them to recognize without question their kinship. And to place final emphasis on

Death’s mission of unification and reconciliation, Savitri*s dot­ ted rhythmic motif, which thus far has tied together every charac­ ter and nearly every concept in the opera, sets those words of greatest importance to the ideal of unity: "Thou rulest all by thy decree," "Thou callest men together," and "Thou showest them the path that leads— " (Example 59). 107 Example 59

(mm, 218-219)

(m. 220)

(m. 221)

As Savitrifs lines continue, her words reveal some impor­ tant details about the various ways in which one might regard

Death: "Thou callest men together, Thou showest them the path that leads to thine abode, Our only sure possession.11

Example 60 (mm. 217-223)

SAVITRI.

—— j — p— ------r Thou art call - ed the Just One, Tnou rul-cftt all by thy de-crce, Tnou

k K -U r 4 ------h------f L------;------‘ — ►------h - 1------call - est men to-geth • tr. Thou show - est them the pith that leads.

___ to thine ft - bode, Our oo - If *ure po» •

On the most obvious level, the above phrases make plain that the only thing man knows for certain is that he will eventually die; the grave is "Our only sure possession." This interpretation 108

seems to emphasize the notion that Death is a single occurrence

an event taking place on a certain day at a specific time, bring­

ing an end to Life.

Another view, however, which is just as apparent in Savitri!s

lines, is that Death is a domain, a kingdom; there is an "abode"

where he reigns supreme. Thus, Death may be seen as a state of

being, a state not arrived at suddenly, but rather over a period

of time, along the path for which Death himself is guide. Con­

ceived on the highest level, this kingdom of Death is also the

kingdom of Life, wherein the terminating of inundance perceptions

and illusions allows one at last to live, not an earthly existence

which, opposed to earthly death, is illusory, but instead an exist­

ence of eternal unity. If Death, however, is seen merely as the

converse of Life, then the 'kingdom or domain1 where he rules over

the !dead! is an illusion; the state of being dead in this sense

is one of Maya's many deceitful gambits. This point is vital and

must be acknowledged in order to comprehend the final consequences

of Death and Maya at the close of the opera.

If Death is seen as the passing of all corporeal distinctions

and the beginning of eternal unity, then perhaps it can be said that

Savitri herself has attained such a state. Certainly her attitude

toward Death has changed since the first passages of the opera; a

frenzied horror has become a calm reverence. Even her words infer

that she is somehow in a different place, for immediately after she

speaks of Death's abode, she continues, "Methinks even now thou hast led me thither." And to musically mark that Savitri may well be en-

route to another realm, a modulation from G raajor/C lyaian occurs 109 precisely after "thither," taking her to Bb major/Eb lydian and a place where she is surrounded by gentle faces and voices, a place where even the air is holy.

Example 61 (mm. 224-232) 110 Example 61 (cont.)

One may note how Holst stresses the importance of Savitri1s final words above, "The air is holy." For they are set in such a way as to make them stand out musically from their surroundings.

Firstly, the low D pedal has been sustained for sixteen full bars, even kept as a common tone through the modulation from G/C to Bt>/Et>.

Although, after this length of time, the listener is only aware of the pedal on a subliminal level, its sudden absence under Savitri's last four words is instantly detectible to the ear. Secondly, it will be remembered that up to this point no chromatic ocnes at all have appeared, melody and harmony have been completely diatonic.

Therefore, when G* is heard on "holy," coupled with an Ab in the harmony, the aural effect is one of surprise, neither pitch belong­ ing to the established tonal background of Bfc> major/Efe lydian.

Thus, with the combined use of a silenced pedal and the unexpected appearance of foreign chromaticisms, Holst has •underlined those 111 words which make plain the sacred, blessed state in which Savitri finds herself.

As Savitri closes, Death, in reciprocation to the woman’s gracious homage, replies, "Thine is the holiness," The tonal am­ biguity created by the chromatic tones just discussed has left as quickly as it arrived, and the area of G major/C lydian is estab­ lished once again, this time G major dominating somewhat because of the replacement of the D pedal with that of G. The next sev­ eral bars are especially important in uniting Death and Savitri, identifying worshipper and god as one. As soon as Savitri con­ cludes her laudations, Death in turn acknowledges she who addres­ ses him, making use of his own Motif C* to speak of Savitri. Per­ haps more significant is that this statement of Motif C* is altered so as to end with Savitrifs dotted rhythmic motif and the repeated pitch pattern that constitutes Death's Motif A, both being the means by which the name of Savitri has been delivered numerous times throughout the opera. Through text and music, the condi­ tion of holiness which Savitri has attributed to Death is now equally attributed to her.

Example 62 (mm. 231-233) 112 Death continues in praise of Savitri, and within the next

bar the dotted rhythmic motif returns setting the phrase, "Thou

art enshrouded in thyself." Here again, the curious use of "en­

shrouded" is striking. The most ready interpretation, of course,

is that Savitri is surrounded by her own holiness. Were this the

case, however, why has not the composer employed a word more in

keeping with this view, a word such as 'encircled' or 'enwrapped'?

The fact is that Savitri is not simply surrounded. She is en­

shrouded, wrapped in Death's raiment, a holy covering that is here

clearly identified as her own, indeed, as she herself. She is en­

shrouded in herself, she who is holiness personified, holiness

which is the garment of the dead. And Death, in one sense, is

love, the love which has already "enshrouded" Satyavan, the love

which now "enshrouds" Savitri. Satyavan, Savitri, Death, love,

holiness— the intermingled cycle is surely endless.

Example 63 (ram. 234-235)

D eat U

Thou art cn-*hroud'cd in thy

Death proceeds, telling Savitri that the faces she sees are

the sufferers she has comforted, the voices are her own sweet words

which have blessed the lives of others. Again Death’s lines attest

to Savitri's goodness, her holiness. He speaks of the love she has

shown and, in turn, the love which has returned to her. For purest love is an expanding, reciprocal round, ever circling back upon it­

self, the consummate unifier of all things involved in its revolu- tions. There are many things which set the course of union in

Holst's opera, but it is love, as the listener will discover, that is one of the strongest agents of all. It is love that will finalize the oneness which is the composer's ideal in this work.

Example 64 (mm. 236-239)

t> e a tk m "He ft cev arc the luf - fer-ers thou hast com - fort-ed, The

es are the *weet words thou hast tpo - ken.

As Death continues, the mystic connection between himself and Savitri is evermore revealed. That Savitri, like Death, is a holy being is reemphasized when Death declares that the air is made holy by her love, SavitriTs dotted rhythmic motif, along with the repeated pitches of Death’s Motif A, aptly set the words,

"holy by thy love,” asserting again that holiness is synonymous with both Savitri and Death. Of course, this rhythm, as mentioned earlier, in addition to its dramatic significance, is also the most natural setting of the text.

Example 65 (mm. 239-2^1)

M •'k'-f A and Hfcy. Mot. 1 u Another clear allusion to Savitri1s holiness is found in the

following phrase delivered by Death, "Being with thee is being in

Paradise." Here, "Paradise" is articulated by Savitri's dotted

rhythmic motif, indicating her right to dwell therein. This, com­

bined with the phrase as a whole, testifies to her sanctity and

her identity with Death, as well as her equality with all the gods,

all those venerable beings whose domain is this "Paradise" to which

Death refers. And to render Savitri's supreme virtue even more ev­

ident, Death continues, declaring that with Savitri "the Gods them­

selves may dwell" (Example 66). The idea of Savitri's divinity is

vital, particularly as the opera proceeds. For it is her divine

wisdom and her forthright integrity which shall shortly overwhelm

Death, moving him to grant a most remarkable gift, one which shall

make known, at last, who he really is.

Example 66 (mm. 242-248)

Be - ing with thee it be-iag in Pir - a-dise.

With thee the Gods thetn-selre* dwell.

Once Death has ended his words of honor and praise, Savitri,

as if in reply, invites him to enter in and dwell with her. With­ in a line which has become melodically free and recitative-like, several statements of the dotted rhythmic motif appear, cogently 115 fusing characters and ideas: "enter Lord," "dwell with me" (Savitri),

and "Holy ones" (Death and Savitri).

Example 67 (mm. 253-256)

To Savitri's gracious offer, Death replies that he cannot

dwell with her, for he must eternally summon all to the grave:

"That may not be, I am he who leadeth men onward." The asser­

tion, "I am he," is especially notable, not only being set by

Savitrifs rhythmic motif, but also by the three repeated tones

of Death's Motif A, the motif which first proclaimed loudly the

name of Savitri. By now, if any further reiteration were neces­

sary, the oneness of Death and Savitri could not be more plain.

Example 68 (mm. 257-259)

Though Death's immutable charge prevents him from remain­

ing with Savitri, he is nonetheless moved to reward her goodness 116 and the humble deference she has paid him: "Yet ere I go, To thee

who dost not shrink from me, Who badest me welcome, I will grant

a boon." How well these words attest to the change that has taken

place in Savitri, distinguishing her present attitude from the blind

panic she displayed at the opening of the opera. And there are yet

more attributes of this rare woman that will surface, making mani­

fest the number of levels upon which just one of Holst's characters may act.

Example 69 (mm. 260-264)

T>eatk

Who bt*des1 me wel » come 1 will grant * boon.

To emphasize the importance of Death's gift, the word

"boon," after several bars of unaccompanied recitative, is set, mezzo-forte, to a full tertian harmony on the downbeat* This unexpected favor, however, is not without restrictions. The

Bb dominant-seventh chord which sets "boon" becomes more dis- sonantly biting in the next bar as the root is dropped, creat­ ing a diminished triad. As this triad with its tritone sounds,

Death begins to qualify what he means by a boon: "A boon for thyself. Ask naught for Satyavan, My breath hath chilled his heart" (Example 70). 117

Example 70 (mm. 263-268)

Savitri is instantly taken aback that Death would suggest

she desire anything except the life of her husband, emphasizing

again the oneness of husband and wife. Piqued, she boldly re­ proaches Death, "Oh Great one, dost thou mock? What boon hath value, If I have not him who maketh all a boon?," the erratical­ ly disjunct angularity of her line well reflecting her indigna­ tion. To italicize the tartness of anger, Holst maintains a har-

□onic stridency, such as the A# diminished-seventh chord, the G diminished triad, the tertially ambiguous harmony on "him,M and the final Djt diminished-seventh chord. Also significant are the melodic tritones which emerge in Savitri’s line as a natural re­ sult of the dissonant harmonies. As was discussed on pages 77 and 7R, Holst’s use of the tr.itone car. be interpreted on more than 118 one level. Yet its occurrence here seems obvious as a token of

Savitri's vexation. The first of these occurs on the "Great one," instantly qualifying the notion of Death's greatness the moment he is acknowledged as such. Within the same bar another descend­ ing tritone appears at the conclusion of Savitri's angry inquiry,

"dost thou mock?" To place a final capstone on the extent of her exasperation, Savitri ends her acerbic retort by souring "boon" itself, setting the word to an ascending tritone, immediately fol­ lowed by the dissonant bite of the rising D# diminished-seventh chord.

Example 71 (mm. 268-272)

i*Tr - i

Great one, dost thou mock? What boon hath • ue

I n iont.

If 1 hive not him mho mak-cth all a boon? 119

Somewhat outraged over Savitri!s rejoinder, Death prepares to leave, taking with him the soul of Satyavan: "Then I tarry no longer. Through the gate a mortal enters. Bid thy farewell."

Yielding, Savitri bids him stay and, almost in desperation, chooses to accept his offer, asking him to confer the gift he has promised.

Example 72 (mm. 275-276)

i------€ d l\b —- # = - v ■ ------Stay, G rant me this boon.

* ■ * # * ‘

Bid thy fare - well.

In this example, the phrase, "Grant me this boon" is set to

what will later be identified as Life Motif R. The appearance of

this motif in this spot on these particular words is vital. It

signifies the gift which Savitri shall ultimately receive of Death,

the nature of which neither Savitri nor the audience is certain of

at this point. Furthermore, it presages the final outcome of Savi­

tri fs encounter with Death, an outcome surprising to be sure, unfore­

s e e n , and yet one which clarifies all that Holst has sought to com­

municate in this work.

Savitrifs Song for Life

Begging Death to hear her plea, and yet realizing that an ap­ peal for her husbandfs life is pointless, Savitri voices another wish. It is a wish, however, which in a sense is even more prepos- terous than the former one to spare Satyavan; she asks Death to 120 grant her the fullness of Life. The woman who has both feared and hailed Death now petitions for that which seems most unlikely for him to give. And as if to counteract or perhaps even accent the incredibility of such a petition, the accompanying music rises to an emotional pitch not yet heard in the opera. In fact, compared with the calm equalibrium of the preceding section, where Savitri greets Death with solemn obeisance, the music which now follows seems almost excessive.

To reflect Savitrifs earnest pleading, Holst’s melodic writ­ ing becomes thoroughly lyrical, emotionally embellished with upward leaps, reaching, striving, yearning, heightening the zeal of her en­ treaties. Texturally, the orchestral accompaniment is rich and full.

The harmonies are largely tertian, and, as with the foregoing pas­ sages, Holst has made use of a key signature, placing his harmonies in an essentially tonal setting. The difference here, however, is seen in a much greater harmonic complexity; in contrast to the staid diatonicism seen earlier, the composer’s score is now replete with chromaticism and characterized by tonal centers which are vague and constantly shifting. Yet, these strained harmonic relationships prove powerfully moving and poignant. And even amid this greater complexity, it is important to note that the tonal and functional drives remain discernible, rendering a certain impetus and energy to Savitrifs passionate suit for Life. Indeed, every aspect of the music evinces Savitri’s fervid implorations, the supplications born of the adoration she holds for Satyavan. Certainly these are the most sensually and emotionally dynamic bars of the whole opera, to- tally romantic in the complete late nineteenth-century sense of the 121 22 word. These are the lines which will invariably captivate the audience, those possessing the most immediate appeal upon first hearing.

Example 73 (mm. 277-312) 122

Example 73 (cont.) 123 Straightaway, as Savitri begins her appeal, she makes plain to Death what it is she desires, her first phrase, "Give me Life,

Life is all I ask of thee," set to what shall be referred to as

Life Motifs S and T.

Example 74 (mm. 278-282)

■ .— E M I L ! — ,

And, as if to render more clear what she seeks, Savitri contrasts her song of Life with the song of Death, the latter set to darker harmonies on Death's Motif C !. This again is an indication that

Holst's opera operates on many levels, the most obvious and super­ ficial distinctions between Life and Death being stressed here af­ ter the composer has already implied that the two are not the poles one may think them to be.

Example 75 (mm. 280-291)

S a y i h r i 124 The ostensive juxtaposition of Life and Death continues as

Savitri, after declaring that Death's song is a "murmur of rest," radiantly proclaims that her song of Life is one of joyous striv­ ing, a song which, as a bright "trumpet in battle," heralds vic­ tory over disease, defeat, and despair. To parallel this rather elementary view of Life, Holst employs the most arrant devices of tone painting, such as the upward melodic tendencies in both vocal line and accompaniment on the words, "Mine should be of the joy of striving, as well as the high sustained G and the rising sixteenth notes beginning the phrase, "There shall my song . . . where

Life Motif U occurs for the first time.

Example 76

(mm. 291-294) Ssv.

(mm. 300-302) 125 That Savitri should ask for Life, especially for herself, may seem odd to the listener. After all, it is Satyavan, not she, who lies motionless on the ground. One must assume, therefore, that what she requests is a higher order of existence than what her physical constitution testifies she already has; she is not

seeking a continuation of mortality. Unfortunately, the text does not appear to support this view. What life but an earthly one would require deliverance from such mortal tribulations as disease, defeat, and despair, even if such conditions were only being seen

as symbolic here? Yet it is just these, or that which they sym­

bolize, which Savitri wishes to vanquish in her new Life. Also, when one ponders the higher levels of Life, especially as conceived

in the Eastern mind, one recalls that the strongest motivator of

mortal action— desire— is lost in exaltation. And with this won­

drous absence there is no yearning, no striving, not even 'seek­

ing' in the mundane sense of the word. Thus, when Savitri sings

that her song of Life "should be of the joy of striving," one jus­ tifiably may wonder as to what manner of life is Savitri referring.

That the listener feels perplexed by Savitri's lines is con­ firmed when Death, himself in wonderment, inquires concerning her unusual solicitation. It would seem that he also believes her to be suggesting a physical existence, for he asks, "Why dost thou ask for Life? Thou hast it now." And to represent the material life which Death understands Savitri to be speaking of, a life whose ultimate destination is the mortal grave, his own Motif C f sets the line, "Thou hast it now" (Example 77). 126 Example 77 (mir.. 312-3H)

Why dot I tboii u k for Life? Thou hatt it nou.

And Savitri does indeed have such a life now. She already knows

the existence for which time demands an end. It soon becomes evi­

dent, however, that a mere enrichment of mortality is not what Sav­

itri is requesting. For when Death, puzzled, suggests that she

seeks what she already has, she hurls him a sharp rejoinder, one

question meeting another.

Example 78 (mm. 313-321)

a . S a v. fh tempo & -- % -■ 1 T p ...... Art thouthe just one* Art thou Death 5

At "/ u ■-p. r , |—» '■ ■■■

Or art thou but a blind tpir • it krow-ing naught of what i* round thee?

In hopes of clarifying herself and making known to Death what she really wants, Savitri resumes her song, repeating the earlier phrase, "Give me Life. Life is all I ask of thee," again placed upon Life Motifs S ajid T.

Example 79 (mm. 322-326) 127

As Savitri continues, her words, this time, begin to inti­ mate something beyond the mere physical condition, something of a more eternal nature. For here, life is identified as a path to be

travelled, one followed by "Bright-eyed daughters . . . Carrying

life on thro' the ages." Even if this "path" were not seen as end­

less, nor the "ages" as infinite, the allusion to a life other than

simple mortality remains apparent.

Example 80 (mm. 327-329)

Sav.

Bright-eved daugh - ters fol • low-mg thv path. Car - ry-mghfe onthro’tiie ■ - ges.

Perceiving life as a pathway is certainly important in giv­

ing more credence to Savitri's entreaties. Yet just as vital,

though perhaps more subtle, is the association with Death that

such a view of life portends, .for Death, too, has been identi­

fied as a pathway, harking back to the opening bars when he him­

self declares, "I am he who leadeth men onward, I am the road that

each must travel, . . . Whose path may not be turned" (see Example 1).

This relationship is revealed in the music as well as the text, when

Death's Motif C' sets the phrase, "following my path," these words

occurring within Example 80 above as Savitri sings of the pathway

of life. The identification of life and death as pathways is crucial,

particularly as concerns the Hindu conception of both these states 128 and as concerns the way they are portrayed in Holst's opera. To

see life, especially an exalted life, as a path is no real problem

even to the Western mind. To picture death also as a path, how­

ever, may be difficult for an audience that sees such as a single

natural phenomenon, the final event occurring at the close of mor­

tality.

To understand the character of Death as he is personified in

Holst!s opera, one must remember that in Hindu thought death, in

the broadest sense, is more than a single occurrence, just as life

is more than the single occurrence of birth. Death is a continu­

ous state, not in the sense that it draws one ever closer to the

grave, but in that it is always present, like the breath, like the

heartbeat, progressing along the side of life, neither condition

possible without the other. And as our eternal pathways are marked

by *life events1, so too are they marked by 'death events1. For

we are ever allowed to die and regenerate in ways both material

and spiritual. And thus we evolve until, rescued from this per­

petual cycle of rebirth and redeath, we attain that blessed state 23 of being, neither living, neither dead.

Savitri proceeds, her tone instantly becoming more grave as

she sings, "Thou, 0 Death, workest alone, Thro1 thy gate, lonely

and desolate, Man must go." And here, after having just presented

life and death as being of the same essence, the two concepts are

now to be blatantly contrasted, once again demonstrating how the

composer weaves his plot on multiple levels. Musically, Savitri*s

lines become darkened as she speaks of Death’s cheerless labors, voice and orchestra moving from a lilting tempo in Ev major to em- 129 phatic tremolos in the remotely related key of B minor. The li­ bretto is also explicit in its differentiation of life and death.

For after Savitri claims that Death must work alone and in deso­ lation, her next phrase declares the glories of a life wherein all is "communion11 and where "Each one that liveth, liveth for all," this last phrase accompanied by the first orchestral appearance of Life Motif U. To emphasize the natural brotherhood of such a life, the last two syllables of "communion11 are set to the tritone.

Although the composer has employed the tritone in its most customary sense, as a mark of evil, danger, or anger, Holst has also used the interval to represent unity, particularly that of Savitri and Satya­ van, and also to reconcile the polarity of opposing directions; as­ cending or descending, the tritone remains the same (see Example 43).

Example 81 (mm. 344-364) 130

In reference to the tritone, it may be recalled that, at the same time it stood as a symbol of unity, it also signified the threat which would affect both husband and wife— the coming of Death (see

Example 43). It is interesting that, while Holst is plainly oppos­ ing Life and Death on the surface, he is also unifying them on a more subtle level, Death indirectly being included here in a life of communion.

This affinity between Life and Death, being suggested along with the more prosaic view of their being opposed, is even more apparent in Savitri's phrase, "Thou, 0 Death, workest alone," where the address, "Thou, 0 Death," is clearly set to Life Motif S, a motif which has occurred, outside its orchestral statements, only twice previously in the vocal line, both times setting the words,

"Give me Life" (Example 82). 131 Example 82

S*v. Mo-klf £ (occurs in mm. 278-279 Grrc me Life. and mm. 322-323)

(mm. 345-346) Thou, 0 Death,

When Savitri continues, stating that through Death's gate,

"lonely and desolate, Man must go," a careful consideration again

discloses that there is more than one plane of thought function­

ing here. The most obvious plane has already been mentioned above,

one upon which Death, in his lonely solitude, is set against a life

of all-inclusive oneness. A closer look, however, reveals something

quite different. That Death is unreal, when categorized as an en­

tity separate from Life, has been revealed both through the music

and the text. His irrevocable call, his powers to claim men, though

adamantly articulated by Death himself, have been exposed as some­

what questionable. Thus, our doubts concerning Death are rekindled

when, on the very words, "Man must go," Holst interrupts the expected 6 . n authentic cadence, incongruously progressing from the I^-V in F# mi­

nor to the totally unrelated harmony of a D minor-seventh chord.

The strongest magnetic force in tonality, the pull of dominant to

tonic at the cadence, is more easily subverted than the ear would expect. Perhaps the same is also true of the similar pull from birth to burial (Example 83). 132 Example 83 (mm. 349-354)

•po tfz'if Ca&cnct

Savitrifs following lines again contrast Death with Life in the most basic, ostensible way. On his own Motif C 1, he is nearly dismissed, described as momentary, "a portal soon passed,11 whereas, immediately after, Life is lauded as eternal, greater than Death.

Savitri!s continued discrimination between Life and Death is curi­ ous indeed, especially when one considers that it is from Death that she seeks the gift of Life. Yet again, all this keenly mani- 133 fests the various levels upon which the opera unfolds, parallel lines of development which shall shortly reach a dynamic peak.

Example 84 (mm. 365-379)

But life______is e - ter

na!, Great - - er than thou

Savitri sings on, relating the qualities of Eternal Life, her succeeding lines and the music which sets them marking both the musical and dramatic zenith of the whole opera. The vocal line and harmony is rich, moving forward in an ecstatically rhapsodic fashion, being formally through-composed and intu­ itively spontaneous. As her song mounts in enthusiasm, the melody works its way upward, rapturously amplifying some of the most magnificent lines of Holst's libretto. And assisting this rising swell is the development of two Life Motifs, U and a rhyth­ mic derivation of T, recurring sequentially in the orchestra at successively higher pitch levels, each utterance more exultant than that, before (Example 85). 134 Example 85 (mm. 381-398) 135 Example 85 (cont.) 136 The Boon is Granted

As the music continues to rise, Savitri sings out the won­

drous consummation of her ardent homage to Life, "Like an o'erwelm-

ing wind he urges us on, Till time and space are forgot, And joy

and sorrow are one." With these words it seems clear that Savitri

has forcefully made known her penetrating apprehension of truth.

It certainly appears that she has seen past the web of illusion.

She has envisioned the veritable substance of the highest reality.

She recognizes the fullness which lies beyond corporeal conceptions

of contrast and opposition. She recognizes the totality which thrives

in a dimension disengaged from the world of confused polarities, the

world which accords Maya, with her delusive manipulations, a deci­

sively pernicious sway over mankind.

Surely, if there had been any questions in the beginning as

to the life of which Savitri has been singing, they should now be

thoroughly resolved. Evidently, her desires are entirely clear to

Death as well, for, astounded and utterly overcome by Savitri!s re­

markable wisdom and discerning insight, he cries out in noble praise,

awarding her the gift for which she has asked. At an impassioned

forte, high in his register, Death imparts to Savitri perhaps the

grandest honour and commendation, as well as the most spectacular

gift he has ever vouchsafed any mortal: "Savitri, glorious woman,

Take the gift thou hast asked, Life is thine in all its fulness,

Thine the song, the path of flowers.11 And to pronounce indeed that Savitri has received this wondrous gift, Life Motifs S and T sound loudly in the orchestra as Death concedes to the exceptional woman’s greatness (Example 8b). 137 Example 86 (mm. 399-412) 138

It is when Death grants Savitri the gift of Life that the concurrent lines of thought in Holst's opera attain a most pointed development. To begin with, it is Death who bestows the prize — certainly potent evidence that Life and Death are at least strong­ ly associated. And that Savitri acknowledges the gift and knows it to be valid is shown by her response to DeathTs benefaction.

The music becomes jubilant, the exuberant vivace further enlivened by quickly repeating eight notes generating the kinetic drives dominant to tonic relationships.

Example 87 (mm. 413-418)

SAVITRI. f. Vivace.______h r u k ! —^

~ ? I r1 : |,. y — ^ G rants me a boon, He Death the just one,whose word rul-eth * 11,

; ^ { « t t t

1 ^ / Blr 1 H 139 Example 87 (cont.)

Still* even though Life and Death have been superbly connect­ ed, one yet recalls how Savitri, just moments earlier, chose to dis­ tinguish them in the most unequivocal way: "Thy song, 0 Death is a murmur of rest"/"Mine should be of the joy of striving"; "Thou, 0

Death, workest alone"/"But Life is communion"; "Thou art for the moment"/"But life is eternal.M Furthermore, Savitri's attitude to­ ward Death in these lines is surely not one of extolment— acknow­ ledgement of his presence, perhaps, but not praise. Yet when he proffers her the fullness of Life, she regards him as "the just one," not a requisite reality that man must merely observe in pas­

sing, but one "whose word ruleth all."

Example 88 (mm. 413-4^4)

^ D^ith ju*t one,who« word rol-eth

In another context, these apparent inconsistencies, so evident here

in Savitri, would be baffling indeed. Here they reiterate the very

essence of Holst's opera, as well as the overall nature of Hindu

thought. uo These seeming discrepancies continue when Savitri qualifies the Life which Death has given her, an existence characterized by the rather earthly roles of "woman," "wife," and "mother.”

Example 89 (mm. 417-418)

5 d v .

The observance of such roles, which in a sense is a recognition of

distinctions, appears inconsonant with the rarefied state of being

just hailed by Savitri, a marvelously unified existence wherein

11 time and space are forgot, And joy and sorrow are one." Yet again,

these supposed incongruities are not to be seen as contradictions.

Firstly, it should be remembered that variation (a form of nonex­

clusive differentiation, as it were) may be viewed as a veritable

aspect of complete oneness. And secondly, within the total reality,

all levels of being and awareness are relevant to the overall pic­

ture, even the more worldly levels where distinctions rule and

Maya!s powers are greatest. Thus, in one sense, there is no need

to distinguish between an earthly life and one more exalted, as

if the two were somehow unrelated. In short, the several decades

of mortality do not confine mankind to a particular type of base

subsistence which suddenly becomes more elevated at the moment the

physical body is quitted. Life is all-embracing, an endless con­

tinuum, so to speak, with perennial interaction between its many

levels_planes more closely connected than one may think. This

concept is critical if one is to comprehend the nature of Death's U 1 gift to Savitri. And it is critical in order to grasp the full meaning of Holst’s opera.

Once the elation Savitri feels over Death's bounty subsides,

the spirit of the music becomes more poised, more temperate and

composed. The instrumental writing remains relatively full, but

its harmonic richness and vitality is due more to the individual

sonorities and their relationships and the use of harmonic sequence

than to the pulls of tonality and chromaticism. And in this more

subdued background, Savitri, in a mood almost dispassionate when

compared to the fire of the previous bars, reveals the full extent

of what Death has given her. For in granting her the fullness of

Life he has, by necessity, granted her what she initially desired,

the Ixfe of Satyavan. It is here, within this passage, that the con­

cept of unity, especially that of Savitri and Satyavan, is set per­ haps more forcefully and beautifully than anywhere else in the opera.

Example 90 (mm. 419-452) S a v . / U 2 Example 90 (cont.) Example 90 (cont.)

}1. e cre6c.

Har y pftic.

flowers Example 90 (cont.)

Considering the foregoing excerpt, it would be of benefit to appraise closely how husband and wife have been unified. Over or­ chestral repetitions of Life Motif U, Savitri begins her lines,

Satyavan*s name appropriately placed upon her dotted rhythmic mo­ tif, the motif which is not only symbolic of Savitri herself, but which has allied nearly everything thus far in the opera.

Example 91 (mm. 424-4-26) U 5 The next phrase, "ny feet may never travel the path," is significant, the word, "path," in particular, having already earned some notice: the path of Death, the path of Life, the path of flow­ ers, which is the gift of Life given by Death.

Example 92 (mm. 427-430)

Sfcv.

my feet mir art - er trw* - el tkt path

As has been shown, these pathways of Death and Life are one and the same. And, as pathways imply a continuous journey, the notion of Life or Death as particular places or as fixed states is some­ what ill-conceived. For the various levels or stages of 'being* are not represented by the stops along the way. Rather, 1 being' in all its aspects, is epitomized by the path itself. Unfortu­ nately, Savitri cannot travel this path without Satyavan. She is one with her husband and to embark without him would be to proceed with only half a soul. Plainly, if not accompanied by Satyavan, the gift just rendered becomes meaningless.

The division of an alliance which has literally become one body is ruinous. This was the fatality of Heathcliff, of Isolde.

This shall also be the fortune of Savitri, if Satyavan is taken from her. Separated from that of which she is part, she becomes distinct from the whole, illusory, an extension of Maya. She shall evanesce like the mist, passing away like the shadows of a dream.

She shall grow unreal, yet vaguely present, as the gossamer threads of memory: "Then I were but a dream, an image, floating on the wa- U 6 ters of memory." To reflect the essence of Savitri's words, the contour of the melody which sets them grows indeterminate, its vague ambiguity promoted by a complete lack of metrical and rhyth­ mic drive. The harmonies, though basically tertian, are strangly blurred; their relationships, though striking, are somehow nonde­ script and without tonal or functional suggestion.

Example 93 (mm. 432-437)

Say. p OL_! - J .—___ — ,— l------c------; — , M - , —

' — — — r ------" T T r 1 ___ 1 were but a dream, an iis - age, float ing oo the

ft . "‘T' s ' i , T s 1 £ * *

.. - 1 1 — ' 1 L — j — v 3

This musical atmosphere continues, the sonorities of the or­

chestra enriched with the entry of the wordless womans' chorus.

To reflect the inexpressible purity of a perfected unity, the mel­ odic line proceeds freely, basically through-composed, its autono­ my not chaotic, but rather inevitable. The harmony also advances along a rationally indefinable, yet clearly destined course, its only theoretically determinable feature being the broad harmonic sequences mentioned earlier in Example 90. In this musical back­ drop, Savitri proceeds with her lines. Death has promised her a song of Life, a path of flowers. But neither of these can be re­ alized without her husband: "Satyavan only can teach me the song, can open the gate to my path of flowers." Again the union of hus­ band and wife is symbolized by the setting of Satyavan's name on

SavitriTs dotted rhythmic motif. But also present is Death's as­ cending perfect fifth, the interval which unified all three charac­ ters at the beginning of the opera (see Examples 18, 19, and 20).

And since Death, on one level, is one with Life, so too are Savi­ tri and Satyavan.

Example 94 (mm. 439-448)

S „ . ,.^ 1 D i l i ;

ux*\. » w c

tcxch me tbe lo n g ----- pec the gate to my

Holst’s ideals of unity are especially evident when Savitri states that it is only Satyavan who can open the gate that leads to U 8 her path of flowers. The most frequent and obvious use of 11gate11 has been in association with Death, where, as early as the open­ ing bars, he declares, nI am the gate that opens for all.11 And as it must open for all, it has swung aside for Satyavan. Indeed, his wife, in the first scene of the opera, makes clear the mis­ sion of Death as she woefully intones, "For him the gate doth op­ en," Later, in the presence of Death himself, as Satyavan sinks lifelessly the ground, it is plain that Satyavan has passed that portal, the gate opens to the "road that each must travel," the path which "may not be turned." How ironic it is when Savi­ tri now claims that Satyavan, who himself is constrained to pass through the gate of the dead, is the very one who can open her gate of Life, the gate which leads, not to the path of Death, but to the path of flowers. At this point in the study, such intriguing paradoxes should not be surprising or unexpected.

This particular example, however, deserves mention as it re­ emphasizes two of the most crucial notions of unity found in the opera. First is the affinity of Death and Satyavan, the natural similitude of assailant and victim. And secondly, the concord of Life and Death, wherein the gate of one is the gate of the other, and the path of flowers is the path of the dying.

Savitri1s lines at last reach a resplendent height. She has made vivid the oneness of herself and Satyavan, rendering clear to Death the full meaning of his inimitable favor. For only Satyavan can open the gate to her path of flowers, the

"path of a woman's life" (Example 95). U 9

And. as setting to Savitri’s final words above, Life Motif R re­ appears, the motif which, employing the same pitches, set Savitri's words at the very opening of her appeal for Life, the moment she b e s o u g h t Death to remain and hear her supplications. "Stay. Grant me this boon" (Example 96). 150

Example 96 (mm. 275-276) M o t i f 1? ff 4d Ixb ■ -t J r. r i , —t * - . . . — , — ■ Stay, Grant me this boon T > e a ik f f f _ f "

Bid thy (are - well.

This same motif, on identical pitches and with the same text, recurred as Savitri continued her entreaties (see Example 73). And when Death finally rewards her fervid request, she repeats the motif twice, the second time revealing that the boon received is the gift of Life.

Example 97 (mm. 413-416) V ivacc.

Death the just one,whoae word ruJ-eth all,

Grants m e a boon, He giv-cth me life,

Yet this gift of Life is complete, it is an existence of eternal un­ ion, it is the "path of a woman's life," a roadway impassable with­ out Satyavan. Kow effectively Holst has foreshadowed the bounteous yield of Savitri*s plea. Even if she was not fully aware of what the final results of her suit might be, when first Savitri asked of Death to grant a boon, the outcome, nonetheless, had already been sealed.

Example 98 (mm. 276 and mm. 448-451) M o t i f ''fc 151 Death is Defeated

After Savitri makes known that Death’s gift cannot be re­

alized without her husband, she proceeds with confidence, knowing

that Death must now concede to her requests. Brilliantly percep­

tive and shrewd, she has triumphed, for a god cannot recall a prom­

ise, a promise that, in imparting Life, has awarded what was truly

desired-the life of Satyavan. Without choice, Death is compelled

to admit Savitri's wisdom and might, a strength which is augustly

manifest in her command that Death retreat, an order made implicit

by a melodic line foreceful and emphatic, accompanied by sustained

tremolo harmonies in stepwise relationship. Her newly realized

sovereignty is further symbolized by the fact that her behest mel-

odically appropriates one of Death's own motifs, Motif C', setting

the words "Alone must thou travel." Death’s defeat is dramatical­

ly certain, the very motif which before set the powerful dictum

"I am he who leadeth men onward" and "Through the gate a mortal

enters" now declares that Death must return alone, without the

one for whom he came. His call, before presumed inescapable, has been nullified.

Example 99 (mm. 4-53-460) 152

Example 99 (cont.)

To mark Savitri!s victory over Death, the orchestra and women*s chorus present the first entry of Life Motif V along with statements of Death's Motifs A and C, the latter break­ ing off as Death withdraws. At this point, for Savitri and for the listener, Death, seen as the antipode of Life, feral master of the grave, is a much larger conception than the mere demise of all that breaths. And he is also a god, one who is just and holy, one who has granted Savitri the greatest of all boons. And this holiness, a divinity which remains even after the horrific facade is broken, is reflected musically as Holst, in a mood of dramatic resolution and quiet resignation, returns to the tranquil musical style which accompanied Savitri's rever­ ent homage to Death in Example 57, her greetings to him as deity

(Example 100). 153 Example 100 (mm. 462-472)

(DEATH t lin e If dr* vs keck end dusppeera ) 154 Example 100 (cont.)

Before proceeding, one should pause and consider the immen­ sity of what has just transpired. To place things in perspective, we must recall the very first lines of the opera, those which, with utmost affirmation, presented the ominous figure of Death to the audience:

I am Death. I am the law that no man breaketh, I am he who leadeth men onward, I am the road that each must travel, I am the gate that opens for all. I, the Summoner, Whom all obey, Whose word may not be moved, Whose path may not be turned. I draw nigh to fulfil my work.

How remarkable it is that one such as Death could now be vanquished, and vanquished by a mortal woman, one who initially, like all mor­ tals, saw Death with presentiment and numbing terror. The astound­ ing turn of events here should not be underestimated, for they make plausible the most significant lines in the opera, lines which, de­ livered shortly, will verify and make lucid much of what the compos­ er has attempted to communicate in this work. 155

Satyavan Returns

Savitri has won the gift of Life. Death has retreated.

And Satyavan, at his wife's gentle call, shall shortly awaken from the dead. And "to mark the blessed reunion of wife and husband, Savitri lovingly revives Satyavan with his own Theme M, one mate assuming the musical material of the other.

Example 101 (mm. 473-474)

Having now obtained the full extent of her wishes, Savitri shall now remain forever with her beloved in an existence of ever­ lasting oneness and communion, a life void of time and space, and the contrasts and conflicts of mortality. Realizing all this, the words Savitri pronounces to awaken her husband may appear quite in­ appropriate, especially when considered at face value alone. The woman declares that "loneliness and pain are ended," a statement seemingly irrelevant in an existence where "joy and sorrow are one.”

Still, human suffering, in the sense that most mortals understand it, is something very unlike peace and felicity; surely it is not seen as being synonymous with joy. This may be why worldly anguish is so devastating, obtaining power from its lack of integration in the whole. Satyavan, however, is no longer mortal, at least not in the same way he was before his encounter with Death. Thus for him, "Loneliness and pain," in the mundane sense, are indeed ended. 156

They have been assimilated. They have found their rightful place in the whole.

Savitri fs next words, "Waken once more to home and wife," when regarding the nature of the gift she has received, may also seem unfitting ix viewed too narrowly. On the surface it would appear that she is recognizing terrestrial distinctions— "home and wife"— and that she is inviting Satyavan to return to a state already known— "Waken once more." It must be remembered, nonethe­ less, that the conditions of the physical sphere are not utterly

vain. They too are part of the whole. It is only when the mor­

tal position is regarded in itself as the complete reality that

it becomes spurious and misleading, a realm where Maya's law rules

most all. Therefore, aspects of mortality, which are merely sym­

bolic, physical representations of broader truths anyway, are cer­

tain to be found, in purer form, within the higher levels of exist-

ence,24

Savitri requested a life where diversity is reconciled, the union of joy and sorrow so powerfully voiced in her plea, repre­

senting the neutralization of all polarities. Within such a state,

Life and Death must also be brought together, a concord already

strongly implied throughout the opera. And as savitri continues her tender coaxings to the prostrate Satyavan, this affinity is superbly recapitulated. She beseeches her husband not to linger upon the road, for it is he who must deliver the gift of Life just bestowed. Yet the road Satyavan travels, the road his wife would have him quit, is the path of Death. This is obvious. Satyavan has crossed through the gateway of the dead and, according to Sa- 157 vitri's words just spoken, has journeyed far in the darkness.

Still, it is upon this very road, the path of Death, that Sat­ yavan, himself of the dead, bears the gift of Eternal Life to

Savitri. Not only has the intimate correspondence of two sup­ posedly contrary forces been effectively restated, but also the correspondence of the pathway of Death and the pathway of Life.

Example 102 (mm. 475-4.78) Sav.

th o u jour-neycd in the d&xk - dci&, F iercc-ly » - round thcc rmged the strife,

Lin • ger aot up - on the ro&d. Tkou art bnag-mg life

In time Satyavan opens his eyes, his revival effectively mir­ rored aurally by the harmonic motion of an A diminished triad to an

A major triad and the English horn statement of his Theme L. His first words are to ask feebly after his wife, "Savitri is it thou?"

Somewhat dazed and apparently not cognizant of what has transpired he vaguely remembers the deadly stranger, an entry ot Death's Motif

C' reflecting Satyavanfs grim recollections.

Example 103 (mm. 479-482) 158 Example 103 (cont.)

In answer to Satyavan's questions, the balanced serenity of

Example 57, the scene where Savitri honors Death as a god, is again

resumed. In this tranquil musical setting, Savitri allays her hus­

band s apprehensions by identifying the stranger who has now left

as a "Holy One," one who has blessed her. And to further stress

this holiness, her words are set to the same melodic outlines which

set the earlier phrases in Example 57, "Welcome Lord, Thou art cal-

lest the Just One."

Example 104 (mm. 4.84-487)

...... - r

------; r y 5 - p — ~ T O ne______hath been here, t Ho-ly One, Who blessed me.

Satyavan, somewhat baffled and seeming not to have compre

hended his wife's comment, concludes that the terror of his ex­ perience must have been a mere dream (Example 105). 159 Example 105 (m. 487)

Then it was but a dream, Yea, to too was tny wear - i • ne»t,

Holst's use of the "dream” has been consistent. Whereas some view dreams as vital connections with the subconscious and thus with less palpable features of reality, Holst, in this opera, employs "dream" as something diaphonous and unsubstantial, a vague image which faintly poses as reality, but which in fact is no more than an illusion. This meaning of the word was seen early in the opera when Satyavan, in Example 26, defined Maya as "Illusions, dreams, phantoms." More recently, in Example 90, Savitri declared that without Satyavan she was unreal, "but a dream, an image, float­ ing on the waters of memory." Here, in Example 105» Satyavanrs re­ ference to "dream" is important, for it designates his experience, on one level, as unreal, as an illusion. This can only mean that

Death himself is unreal; when seen as Satyavan sees him, as a bane­ ful enemy, Death is a wicked ruse of Maya. This is all plainly born out as Satyavan continues his lines, saying, "Maya had seized me. I was her slave," the relationship of Death and Maya strength­ ened by the setting of the words "I was her slave" upon Death's

Motif C 1. Furthermore, in regaining consciousness, Saoyavan sur- raises that Maya's hold over him has passed, "Now hath she fled," the fleeing of illusion coinciding with Death's departure from the stage (Example 106). 160 Example 106 (mm. 488-490) ^ Sat. , , ^ ^ Jfe*f ^ ^ ^ ^

M* . ym k&d mcivcd m e. I w u her iltfe . Now hath the fled

These strong inferences to the illusory nature of Death should be well noted, not only for their reinforcement of similar allusions tnroughout the score, but also for their foreshadowing of a passage shortly to occur, a passage which at last makes known without ques­ tion the composer's view of Death and his general conception of il­ lusion.

As Satyavan concludes that Maya has fled, signifying that

Death has withdrawn, the orchestra repeats several statements of

Life Motif U, and appropriately so, as husband and wife exchange loving phrases of complementary dependence, betokening their mu­ tual life of oneness. Here, within Satyavanfs opening lines, Holst again demonstrates the completeness of unity by developing the rath­ er recondite concept of 'aloneness', his aesthetic purposes made known by use of Savitri's dotted rhythmic motif on the phrases

"Nought remains" and "Thou alone," the latter set also to Death's

Motif A, the repeated pitch pattern specifically representing Savitri.

Example 107 (mm. 4-90-493) 161

Example 107 (cont.)

When Satyavan addresses his wife in the above example, "Nought remains but thou and thy love," Holst is not implying that everything outside Savitri and her love has passed away. Rather, that in the union of all things, there is nothing which continues to exist out­ side the whole, this whole, in part, being constituted by Savitri and her perfect love. And when all is ’one1, there can be no ’other’.

It is in such a state that extremes meet; this is where the absolute form of ’everything’ becomes ’nothing'. In Satyavan's own words,

"Nought remains."

These same ideas are also suggested by the word "alone," again signalizing the coming together of extremes, the absolute essence of ’alone’ being equal to ’with all’ or ’with everything’. Adding to such an interpretation, particularly as regards the idea of

'aloneness', one must recall that Holst has used Savatri's dotted rhythmic motif not only as a means of unification, but also in causing words to stand out of textual context. Thus, in the above example, "Thou alone," when set apart, is a noun followed by a qualifying adjective, precisely -Savitri alone' or, synonymously,

'Savitri with all’. Certainly, if Savitri has achieved such a 162 state, the following words, "free from Maya," would be thoroughly applicable. In other words, Savitri, when recognized as being part of all else, is fully free from illusion. She dwells in utter truth and reality, where Maya can no longer ensnare and deceive.

And when Maya is expelled, Savitri and all else becomes truly 'real’ for the first time, thus justifying Satyavan's next phrase, "Thou alone art real."

If such an appraisal of the substance of Satyavan's lines seems abstruse, one may opt for a more literal interpretation: sim­ ply, that only Savitri and her love exists, that only she is real and only she is freed from illusion. This view, which tends to iso­ late Savitri even from her husband, makes little sense when consi­ dering the nature of the gift just received and the composer's con­ sistent emphasis on unity, especially that between husband and wife.

And, almost as if to make clear that the surface meaning of Satya­ van's words is not to be taken too strictly, Savitri answers her husband's tributes with the assurance that she could not exist with­ out him: "Without thee I am as the dead, A word without meaning,

Fire without warmth, a starless night." And to emphasize that it is by and through Satyavan that she lives, her powerful words of unity, "Thou makest me real, Thou givest me life," are set to Life

Motif R, the motif which first set her request in Example 72, "Grant me this boon," and later described the life she desired in Example

95 as "The path of a woman's life." These then are the riches of her rewards, treasures foreshadowed when first she placed her en­ treaties before Death. Through Satyavan she is made real, through

Satyavan she is given Life. And as Life Motif R sets the vocal 163 line. Life Motifs S. T, U, and V, all in quj,t victor,, sound in the orchestra.

Example 108 (mm. 492-506)

rutif'R f dole9 1 Poco auimato. 164 Example 108 (cont.)

at i f U (Skt npfortt ktm «*i (Asy go out J

Supporting her husband, Savitri prepares to leave the stage, and together they turn to go as Savitri softly resumes anew her lullaby of devotion, the maternal song heard in Example 45 when

Satyavan first succumbed to Death's visitation. The matchless

unity exemplified at that time in Savitri's phrases is repeated

here and at the conclusion of the opera to epitomize a oneness

that has conclusively been proven a reality.

The Ultimate Denial— Death as Illusio_n

As the two exit, Death mysteriously reappears, passing unob-

trusively in the background. He has returned momentarily to deli­

ver the most crucial lines of the opera, those lines we have been

awaiting, those lines which shall substantiate, reinforce, and clar­

ify much of what the composer has been communicating. These phrases

shall verify the inklings and intimations felt, the observations and

con.iect.ures made by the listener. So, as his .otivic material re­

sounds for the final time in the chamber orchestra, Death commences

his final soliloquy (Example 109). 165 Example 109 (nit. 515-530) 166 Example 109 (cont.) 167

On the most obvious level, Death is merely acknowledging

that he has failed in his mission; he retreats alone to his king­

dom without the soul for which he came. Closer scrutiny, however,

moves one, once again, to analyze the word "alone," for if its mean­

ing concurs with that of its previous appearances, then another di­

mension is added to Death's phrase. If Death is truly alone, then

in reality, as with Savitri. he is 'with all', nothing exists that

is not him. He, as part of reality, _is reality, and when all is

included in reality, then there is nothing which is outside of re­

ality; reality is 'aloneness'. Of course, if Death is alone in

this sense, then he is assimilated into the enveloping unity of

reality. He no longer continues to exist as a separate entity.

In the distinct form that men recognize him, Death is an illusion.

Example 110 (mm. 515-517)

(fUtimg m Us ^ ^

Uc-tc ha king - dom Death wad-etfc m • kmc

Death continues, conceding that "One hath conquer'd him."

Again, the roost immediate explanation of this statement is that

Death, upon returning to his own sphere without Satyavan, admits

that Savitri has outwitted him. But, as before, attention must

be paid to detail. In so doing, one discovers use of both Savi-

tri1s dotted rhythmic motif and Death's ascending perfect fixth,

the interval which first appeared in his own Motif D, setting the declaration "I, the Summoner." The occurrence of both the rhyth­ mic and the intervalic motif unites Death, as on numerous earlier 168 occasions, with Savitri, binding victor with vanquished.

Example 111 (m. 518)

I On» maco cocM pcrdhun, _ J Met. *

The alliance here or Savitri and Death is important, almost

prophetic, for it reveals the way mortal men may overcome Maya and

thus be liberated from the illusion that wretchedness, torment, and

pain are somehow opposed to peace and joy, and are thus negative

and undesirable. Death, in a sense, has been conquered, not only

by Savitri*s force of personality and depth of understanding, but

also by the fact that he has been made part of her and she of him.

Union does not recognize opposition. One need not fear the vicis­

situdes of mortality, viewing with apprehension the pains of the

body and the anguish of mind and spirit. Such things are a por­

tion of reality and are thus part of our very being. When accepted

and assimilated, they take on their true nature. They are no long­

er the horrors that Maya would have us believe them to be. That

which was feared was nothing more than an image, a conglomerate of

illusions which once ruled our lives. So it is with Savitri.

Death, whoa she initially feared, has been revealed as part of

Savitri herself, a fusion which has been in development from the

beginning of the opera. Death has been absorbed, so to speak, and

thus ceases to exist as a separate entity. The odious spectre is received and consumed, taken into the whole, and is no more. 169 The conquering of mortality comes by accepting all its fea­

tures, pleasant and unpleasant, terns which have no meaning once

this integration takes place.25 This acceptance is made feasible

by understanding the all-inclusiveness of true Life and thereby

loosening the bands of illusion. Death, himself an illusion, states

this when confessing that he has been overpowered by "One knowing

life, One free from Maya."

Example 112 (mm. 518-519)

One Wife CMMpitrilkiB, O k kflov-iag life, One free from M i - y i

It is at this point that Holst at last makes patent his view

of Life, Death, and Maya. It is here, in Death*s final words, that

the musical and dramatic signs and symbols which have abundantly

pervaded the opera are brought to a climax, brought collectively

to their culmination and definitive statement. After admitting de­

feat by one free from Maya, Death continues by making known the meas­

ure of Maya’s dominion, the expanse over which she exerts her powers:

"Maya who reigns where men dream they are living#" So it is true,

living is a dream state, a suspension in time and space, an atmos­

phere of imaginary activity, false and desire-ridden. It is the

most deceptive of all fantasies, for in living, man believes him­

self to possess Life, when all he owns is the grandest ruse of the ultimate illusion. And to musically demonstrate that living, in the physical sense, is no less an illusion than is dying, the phrase

'men dream they are living" is set to Death's Motif - (Example >13;. 170

Example 113 (mm. 520-521)

Ma • p who rcignt where k d Aram — they Art !iv . jng,

Now, with this excerpt in mind, one realizes what Death meant when, in Example 112, he recognized defeat by "One know­ ing life," a defeat made possible not because a remarkable wo­ man exhibited a deep understanding of living, but because she possessed Life, the highest reality. Through his own words,

Death makes plain the essence of the boon he has presented the wondrous Savitri.

Holst has established that living is an imaginary state.

The realm of the living, however, is not the sole province of

Maya, for she abides among the dead as well. She is the sub­ stance of all dreams, and just as men imagine themselves to be living, they also imagine themselves to be dead. The ex­ perience of Death is a dream, an illusion. This has most re- cently (Examples 105 and 106) been suggested by Satyavan, one who has passed through the gate and travelled the road of the dead, one who, by inference ("Then it was but a dream . . .

Maya had seized me"), has confirmed Death's unreality. Now, astonishingly, Death himself acknowledges that he participates in the spurious ploy, admitting the great sham with his next phrase (Example 114). 171 Example 114 (mm. 522-525)

W ho.* powV------cs-tend* lo thu eth-er world.

dream that they arc dead.

In allowing this confession, Death has disclosed more than the fact that Maya is the actual ruler of his kingdom. He has also made clear that his kingdom, in truth, does not exist except in the minds of those who believe themselves to be dead. Furthermore, when Death declares that Maya's power extends to that "other world," he is know­ ingly making reference to distinctions, this other world of Death be­ ing removed from the world he has also just exposed as fantasy— the world of the living. It has been discussed that when differences are recognized the superlative reality of oneness is instantly broken down. Thus, Death as the antithesis to living and living as the anti­ thesis to Death are both fabrications; Eternal Life has nought to do with either one when they are seen as opposing states of being.

If there remain any doubts as to the massive reach of Maya’s influence, Death's last words should surely dispell them, for as he passes in the distance, his ghostly figure slowly disappearing from the stage, he makes the supreme confession, direct and unequivocal,

"even Death is Maya." The dramatic weight of this final and complete exposure is made strikingly forceful by the continued repetition of

Death's melodic motifs in the orchestra, the motifs which once so mightily proclaimed his power. Striking is the irony, that these motifs persist as Death denies himself, Motif E recalling the lines "Whose word may not be moved, Whose path may not be turned," as

Death's very words in the vocal line above declare that he is no more than an illusion. As in the gradual passing of a dream, the musical symbol of Death— his motivic material — slowly weakens in the orchestra, subsiding to a pianissimo hush. Dissipating, it finally breaks off entirely and is silent.

Example 115 (mm. 524-535)

DEATH.

dream that they .re dead. For ev - e» Death. i. 173 To assist the fading of Death, Savitri, offstage, resumes again her lullaby, overlapping Death's last words so as to render then, almost inaudible, emanating from the dim outlines of a mere shadow. Holst has made his statement regarding the blanket of il­ lusion which covers the material world. But all has not been for­

saken to this deluding power. There is that which is greater than

Maya, that which has found even firmer expression in Holst's opera.

Death's dark words, consigning all to the enslavement of illusion, are not the last to be heard. It is Savitri's lullaby which lin­ gers in our ears as the work closes, her song of love, devotion, and most of all, unity. For unity is the force which surpasses all others, even Maya. Unity is the subject of Holst's opera.

Unity is the firal and conclusive word. And to signify the abound­ ing nothingness of unity, Savitri's lines emanate from a vacant stage, empty as at the beginning of the opera, the entire work framed by a rich void. Nought remains but nothing— and everything.

I am with thee, my arms are round thee Thy thoughts are mine, my spirit dwells with me When thou art weary I am watching When thou sleepest I am waking When in sorrow I am near making it a thing of joy Beyond all other joys

Example 116 (mm. 521-5A2)

a SAVITRI (tn lie 4\tfntej

t I am with DEATH fmutcnoso / P s " M \T.

drc*rr. thit they art For e r - eo Death, u Example 116 (cont.)

f > ' 7 ;■ •C f spi - rit dwells with the c Whcnthouart wea - ry I am watching, Whenthou 175 Notes

. importance °f enharmonic spellings and changes in Holst's music is acknowledged by his daughter in the preliminary ’Note’ to the second edition of her book, The. Music of Gustav Hol.t. (London: Oxford University Press, 1968): ^ d a y there is little difficulty in following the enharmonic changes in my father’s bitonal works.” Also within the text itself, on p. 95, she makes the following com­ ments concerning the Seven Part-Songs for women's voices and strings (Opus AAt composed in 1925-26 on words by Robert Bridges): ’’There is an extraordinary effect of shifting tonality when the singers raise their torches and the changing level of light is reflected in the changing level Oj. sound. By raising the C$ in the ground bass to a Dv he compels the listening ear to transform the held G# and D# to an Ab and nb# ihere is the same unearthly interchange at the end of the Elegy, when the chorus sings 'Rejoice for thou art near to thy possession’ • . . This enharmonic change, which had already been hovering in his mind as long ago as in Savitri. was one of the sounds that helped to lead him to renewed warmth at the very end of his life."

^For more on Holst’s thoughts on this subject, see p. 17 of this thesis. 3 That the husband/wife relationship is a metaphor for the highest union between God and the individual worshipper has already been discussed in the Notes of Chapter 1, p. 27, no. 9.

^Satyavan's musical material excellently reveals the compo­ ser's interest in English folk song, an enthusiasm which began when he first discovered the monumental work Cecil Sharp had done in the field. From about 1905 onward, English folk music was to play an important role in the development of Holst's compositional style and was to prove influential in gradually eradicating from his music the cliches of continental European romanticism, cliches which had been evident in much of his earliest works.

^The technique of causing syllables, words, or phrases to stand out rhythmically from their surroundings, emphasized by met­ ric or accentual manipulations, is a poetic device found in the works of such English writers as Gerard Manley Hopkins and Thomas Hardy. It is known that Holst had a penchant for several English poets, possessing a special appreciation for the w o t k s of Hardy, to whom he dedicated his orchestral piece L^don Heath. Thus, iu may well be possible that Holst derived some of his metrical and rhythmic techniques through this influence.

6The function here of the mirror being a reflection of some­ thing else and thus becoming a symbol is immensely important and sets the stage for the concept of 'symbol' in general, a principle which is vital throughout the opera and will be discussed at length in the concluding chapter. 176 7 _ , ,The ^ullness °f unity lies beyond the realm of the intel­ lect ana verba± speech and thus cannot be 'known1 or 'named' in the ordinary sense* This was discussed in the opening chapter. An apt passage from Floya H. Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism mrt EnH- gigin (Batons Beacon Press,^ 5 3 ) , p. 30, should further emphasize tha he highest reality is in fact nameless and unknown: "Indian literature uses many names and attributes to characterize Brahma. Yet it is recognized that behind the 'named1 there is the Name-less, the living Reality which can never be conceptualized— Brahman. In the words of Nikhilananda: 'Brahman does not exist as an empirical object— for instance, like a pot or a tree— but as Absolute Exis­ tence, without which material objects would not be perceived to exist." g Two Hindu views of death should be noted here. On one le­ vel death is simply seen as the cessation of mortality. In the ear­ ly Vedic tradition, the deceased either went to heaven or to hell according to his deeds while on earth. As early Hindu thought de­ veloped, however, it was feared that one's stay in heaven (if that is where he went) may not be eternal, but perhaps would terminate in its own type of death, one that, haplessly, might place the in­ dividual back on earth in the realm of Maya. From this notion grad­ ually emerged the fundamental Hindu principle of samsara, or the in­ finite sequence of rebirth and redeath, an endless cycle governed by karma, the eternal law which attributes the conditions of one life to the circumstances of prior lives. On this level, death, along with countless rebirths, is a never-ending fact. A second view of death, on the other hand, is one which not only sees it as liberation from Maya and the deceptions and illu­ sions of mortality, but also as deliverance from samsara and karma, this latter release, as it were, from the round of continuous birth and death being the ultimate goal of the Hindu mystic, the consum­ mate union with distinctionless reality, the emancipation known as Moksha. In Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hindu:si and Buddhism, p. 43, it is said that "Moksha means very simply release— release from finitude, fragmentariness and unawareness. . . . moksha means release from the round of birth and death, * . •" Also see Troy Wilson Organ, The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Han, pp. 117- 152.

^The bringing together or neutralization of seeming polari­ ties in a rarefied atmosphere of timeles, spaceless uni^y ±s the essence of T. S. Eliot, Four Quartet? (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971). The opening lines of the first two poems set the spirit of what is to come: Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. In ray beginning is my end. 177

, Numerous are the warnings given to those whose quest is rea k ^ ' 0r> th°U^h see^er may no longer be duped by Maya s more obvious shams, he might yet be deluded by the poten­ cy the feelings experienced when in a 'transcendent1 state. What is this exhilaration which he feels? Is it the true ecstacy of one- ness with the divine or a rapturous intensification of worldly emo­ tions and sentiments which speciously feign truth? The necessity to discern between the two is well expressed in the following quo­ tation from Paul Zweig, The Heresy of Self-Love (Princeton: Prince­ ton University Press, 1980), p. 23: "Yet as the mystic gathers him­ self into that circle of 'inwardness' which he calls the 'apex' or 'spark' of his soul, he encounters an obstacle, the last and sub­ tlest of all: the strands of his passion become confused, he cannot be sure to choose rightly between the ’true self' at the apex of his soul and the 'false self' of earthly experience." [This is"I "meant as a warning to those who have undertaken the mystical jour­ ney into themselves; for when they arrive at this difficult fork in the 'way', they must learn to continue inward to the spark beyond their selfhood, and not downward into the self-deluding pleasures of the ego* Between the true 'way1 and the false, the resemblance is bewildering to any but the wisest disciple." 11 It should be noted that the piano/vocal score differs some­ what from the autograph full score as regards the spelling of the G# and the Ab in the orchestra. The spellings in the choral parts are identical, however, and the enharmonic interchange remains obvious.

12It should be remembered here that though certain elements of each of Holst's characters are affected by Maya, the world of illusion is still part of the overall reality (see Notes of Chap­ ter 1, p. 32, no. 31). Thus, all aspects of Savitri, Satyavan, and Death, even those which seem superficial, illusory, or contra­ dictory, are to be recognized as part of the total character.

1^After the extravagance of his early Wagnerian opera Sita, Holst began to adopt a more conservative style, one of greater and greater economy. He grew to be very cautious about whao remained in a finished score, pruning away anything extraneous and leaving only that which was absolutely essential to the^ spirit of the work. Every note, every harmony, every dynamic marking was carefully con­ sidered with the vigorously honest self-criticism that would even­ tually lead to the masterful Egdon Heath, a highly condensed, aus­ tere work which is nonetheless brilliantly lucid and direct. In Imopen Holst, Gustav Holst (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), p 100, the composer' s creative ideal is presented as one of "clar­ ity: clear seeing, clear hearing, clear thinking and clear feeling." And to emphasize Holst's meticulous method of achieving such clfr- itv, one of his most noteworthy students, rximund Rubbra, has said, recalling his studies with Holst, "With what enthusiasm did we pare our music to the very bone!" (Ibid., p. 10^). 178

H i n d u i s m s t ” * ? " °f

bynr-*? karma (see *-? Notes \T-of Chapter 2, p. 176, n0. 8). ;d 15 + Su?l!, *n extinction is the utter loss of self and the en­ velopment within Brahman, the release into Moksha discussed above in Note no. 8. 16 +uTh® 'darkness' experienced by St. John of the Cross (1542- 1591), the loss of all things in union with God, is exquisitely ex- pressed m one of his most well-known poems, "The Dark Night" and his two-part prose work, The Dark Night of the Sn-.n . Good trans- lations from the Spanish can be found in The Works of Saint John °f_the Gross, trans. E. Allison Peers, 3 vols. (London, 1934-1935). *-t. John? s pursuit of oneness with God may be seen as a meth­ od of ! spiritual negation1, so to say, and is an affirmation of his particular mystic quest. A good representation of this quest and of his spiritual attitudes may be found in a new biography by Richard P. Hardy, Search for Nothing (New York: Crossroad, 1982)/ 17 A superb contemporary expression of the negation of the world and the loss of the self in the search for reality is Michael Novak, The Experience of Nothingness (New York: Harper and Row, 1970). 1 8 The element of nature and its spiritual power has served as inspiration for several Nordic composers, Carl Nielsen and Jean Sibelius being two important examples. With Sibelius in particular one finds a "desire to relinquish his personality in nature." The "vast forests," the "wind, light, space, solitude,"— these things Sibelius wishes to commune with in an attempt at "self-obliteration." These tendencies reach unparalleled development in Tapiola, where the "impersonal forces of Nature threaten to destroy the human per­ sonality." Perhaps this annihilation of the self is what Savitri so fears when she first becomes aware of Death*s presence in the forest. For, to an inhabitant of the domain of ’self*, the des­ truction of the ego is a most horrifying prospect. It is for this reason that Tapiola is "surely one of the most terrifying pieces of music ever written.** For quoted material see A. Harmon and W. Mel- lers, Man and His Music (New York: Oxford University Press, 1962), PP. 933-934, 941, 974.

19The added G in this chord does not obscure the A major triad and within this context is hardly even perceptible as an added seventh.

20A passage from Ross, The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism, p. 64, clearly states the Hindu stance on the notions of good and evil: "Indian thought has steadily avoided any attempt to explain the actuality of emotional or moral confusion in terms o, a personal Devil or a cosmic principle of evil. It has s.eere. clear of metaphysical dualisn-the splitting of the universe at 179 its core into two opposing principles, one of light and the other of darkness." It should be noted, however, that such a philosophy is nore characteristic of later Hindu thought-that of tbe W - esPeci®n y ° f the Bhagavad Gita. Earlier Vedic concep- ns of good and evil with the allied notions of heaven and hell, more closely resemble Western thinking.

Divine activity or motion manifests an undefinable still­ ness because it does not take place within a framework of time and space. Furthermore, it is an activity which is detached— in other words, it is removed from human desire and yearning. This latter point is especially apparent in the Bhanavad Gita, where Arjuna re­ alizes from Krishna's pointed comments that he can neither enter battle with the desire to win, nor run from battle to avoid killing his brothers. He must fight simply because it is his particular call to action at that particular time. But he must 'act1 in a pure and detached manner, he can have no personal stake or inter­ est in the outcome. This ideal of unattached action may further be clarified in K. P. S. Choudhary, Modern Indian Mysticism (Del­ hi: Montilal Banarsidass, 1981), pp. 49-50: "The word 'activity' needs a little clarification. Activity would mean doing all dut­ ies, even worldly duties, but doing them in a dispassionate and disinterested spirit. . . . Some people, it appears, misunderstand the term 'disinterested'; it does not mean 'having no interest', but 'having no selfish desires or interest'; action does not bind the mystic, since he is no more entangled in selfish desires." 22 These passages wherein Savitri implores Death for the gift of Life stand out stylistically from the rest of the opera. There is a certain unrestrained emotionalism here which occurs nowhere else in the score, except perhaps when Satyavan briefly sings of those things which may have escaped Maya's clutch (see bars 114- 121 of Example 28, p. 60). What the listener senses here is the unmistakable stamp of Wagner, an influence which so strongly marked much of Holst's earlier work (see Notes of Chapter 1, p. 26, no. 4). In Imogen Holst, The Music of Gustav Holst, p. 28, the following observations are made: "In the passionate dialogue between Savitri and Death, when he offers to grant her anything she asks except the life of Satyavan, Holst's only tools for working up an emotional climax are his worn-out sequences of diminished sevenths and added sixths. Savitri's plea for life in its fullness is soon drowned in the saccharine sentimentality of 'the joy of striving . . . where defeat and despair are reigning', and there is an embarras­ singly heroic fervour about her declamation that 'Life is commun­ ion. Each one that liveth, liveth for all.' The music^that under­ lines these assertions sounds forced and unnatural. This is not the real Holst . . . The patches of imitation romanticism stand out in violent contrast to the austere economy of the work." Im­ ogen Holst's comments may seem rather severe, an overreaction per­ haps born of our century's almost neurotic aversion to anything 'romantic'. Still, her remarks are well taken, for it is such stylistic incongruities in Savitri which make more problematic the 180 analysis of the work and its success as a vehicle for the mystic ideals the composer attempts to portray. Nevertheless, Holst’s opera as a whole still succeeds remarkably, and Savitri’s fervid appeal for Life, even if viewed as somewhat excessive, does in fact add greatly to the overall impact of the work. 23 This state wherein Life and Death have become one and the circle of birth and death has been broken is the highest reality attainable. It is the reality of Moksha. 2 U That the earthly sphere is not only a necessary aspect of the whole but is also symbolic of this whole is an important prin­ ciple especially evident in several of the Upanishads and also, though in a different way, in the Vedic writings. The Hindu con­ cept of the symbol is based essentially on the fact that Brahman, being infinite and without material form, can make itself known to physical man by means of reducing a part of itself in corpor­ eal guise, thereby creating a more accessible indication of its existence— the symbol. Therefore all things in the physical world, including man, are finite signs of that which is infinite. All is a symbol of Brahman. In this sense, the symbol of Brahman or the 'One1 is Maya, that is, if Maya is seen as the power of Brahman to become incarnate and make itself known in physical form before a physical race (see Notes of Chapter 1, p. 27, nos. 10 and 11). The problem of illusion, then, enters in when one does not recog­ nize that the world of Maya is merely a symbol and not the total or actual reality. Those who worship the symbol itself shall be confined accordingly; they cannot proceed beyond the bounds of the symbol. But those who worship through the symbol, directing that worship to that which truly is— those will be one with Brahman. For further reading see Deussen, The Philosophy cf the Upanishads, trans. Rev. A. S. Geden (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1966), pp. 99-125.

^Savitri herself has made known this important truth when she asks of Death the ultimate boon, an existence wherein joy and sorrow are one" (see bars 393-398 of Example 85, p. 135). CHAPTER 3

CONCLUSION

The Character Complex

All things are part of the whole. No matter how antipatheti­ cal they may appear, they are one. And, though each portion is ex­ ceptional in some way, it nonetheless reflects all other aspects which comprise the whole. As Holst has said, "the ocean receives the drop of water, but the drop of water receives the consciousness of the ocean.In this way, Savitri, Satyavan, and Death are not only unique extensions of the whole, they are also extensions of one another and of all else. This is why each of them can be viewed in myriad ways, seen to act on numerous levels; they are simultaneous­ ly one and many.

While such a dualistic quality— single and sundry— more fully reveals Holst's characters as they really are, it also, in one sense, makes them appear absurdly incoherent. That the reader might have difficulty with these seeming incongruities was a caution given in the opening chapter. And the succeeding analysis more than likely bore out the need for this forewarning, the characters being uncov­ ered as perhaps even more complex than anticipated.

Death, for instance, is first presented as the invincible one, formidable, the inexorable fact that lies in wait for all the living world. Yet, at the very moment that he is portrayed as such, Holst 182 discreetly foreshadows what Death himself shall declare at the close

of the opera— that he is merely an illusion.

There are even more guises of Death, more than those of the

insuperable master and the illusionary wraith. As the opera un­

folds, he is further seen as a holy one, a bestower of sacred gifts,

a god without whom Savitri's prize of Eternal Life with Satyavan

would not have been obtained. In a more subtle way, Death is also

revealed as a release, a redemption from the world where the vari­

ous manifestations of reality are seen as irresolvably opposed rather

than harmoniously complementary, a world where language creates rig­

id distinctions and Maya blankets the broader truths in misty ob­

scurity. Seen as deliverance from such things, Death is love, a

love which surrounds and enshrouds, as Savitri envelops herself and

Satyavan, her embrace engulfing and consuming all differences, in­

troducing the beloved to eternal oneness.

Yes, Death is all of these things: terrible, inviolable, il­

lusory, holy, liberating, loving, and more as well. But, even with

the warning offered in Chapter 1, how does this affect the extent

to which he shall come across to the listener as a cohesive entity,

how can he succeed as a believable character?

In the case of Death, an ambiguously multifaceted portrayal

nay seem partially warranted, since he is, on the most rudimentary

level, not truly 'human', but rather an incarnation of an idea, an

idea which is complex and somewhat enigmatic to begin with. But what of Savitri and Satyavan? Again speaking in the most rudimen­ tary of terms, they are 'flesh and blood', so to speak. Kow can one identify with two actual personages who are so completely self- 163 contradictory? To be sure, Satyavan manifests a grand contradic­

tion with his parallel representations of both victim and assail­

ant. But the real problems of ambivalence and persistent incon-

sistency rest mainly with Savitri,

Here is a woman who perceives the blackness which lies hidden

beneath the placid surface. Where e ’er she goes, she hears the

voice of doom, the voice of the dark lord calling for her husband.

She is frantic, tortured, beset by frightful premonitions. When

Satyavan suggests that her fears are the result of Maya, she dis­

counts this, saying she now sees beyond Maya to the terror that

penetrates even the "heart of every tree."

As Death draws closer, Satyavan falls, and Savitri becomes

the protective lover, guarding over her husband’s still form as

she sings of the bond which unites them. At last Death arrives to

claim another among many souls, while Savitri, almost in a furor,

proclaims that none may enter but the gods, the holy ones who dwell

in love. In ironic fulfillment of Savitri's words, Death stands

before her, and, with an attitude suddenly transformed, she greets

him with reverence and praise, her calm acquiescence instantly no­

table against the preceding frenzy. It is here that Savitri pays

homage to Death, acknowledging his divinity and grace. Death, in

turn, recognizes the virtue of Savitri and, in so doing, helps to

effect the merging of their two identities, a sacred coming together

that certainly presents an interesting turn from the opening scenes.

This curious intersection of two characters who were initial­ ly so opposed, results in Savitri's request for Eternal Life, her impassioned entreaties disclosing still another aspect of an in­ 184

creasingly complicated personality. Death, taken aback at the force

of her invocation, grants her wish, whereupon she lauds him as the

"just one, whose word ruleth all," a rather unexpected response af­

ter she has just previously, in her song for Life, referred to the

effects of Death as "lonely," "desolate," and purely momentary.

Finally, to mark the ultimate development of an almost incompre­

hensibly discordant character, Savitri commands Death to leave,

her convincingly assertive tone nearly inconceivable when compared

to the terrors she just as convincingly displayed at the beginning

of the opera.

The Symbol

These are the faces of Savitri, And there are others, more

subtle, some of which have been discussed in the foregoing analy­

sis. In what manner, then, does an audience deal with such discrep­

ancies, disparities which, though most apparent with Savitri, affect

everything in Holst’s opera to some degree. The answer is that Sa­

vitri, Satyavan, Death— indeed, all aspects and ingredients of Holst1

opera— are condensed, highly Concentrated facsimiles of something

else, abbreviated yet eminently integrated representations of that

which is much larger than themselves, but something, nonetheless,

of which they also are part. In short, all elements of the opera, 2 whether seemingly concrete or conceptual, are symbols. Thus, Holst’

characters, too, are symbols. They are not to be seen as ordinary personalities. And, in the case of Savitri and Satyavan, they are not even to be seen as ordinary human entities. Like a Gothic paint­ ing, they are vehicles for a much broader world of thought than their 185

comparatively flat, materially dimensioned exterior would suggest.

They are the reifications of ideas which, because of their expan­

siveness, partially defy and in some way exceed their physical em-

bodiment.

Considering Holst's characters as symbolic should aid in ex­

plaining their inextricable makeup. But it might also seem to place

them at a distance from the audience, an audience which may more

readily identify with the dramatic rendering of 'ordinary mortals'

involved with the intrigues of a 'purely material existence*. Sa­

vitri, Satyavan, Death— -they may simply seem too esoterically con­

ceived to be credible in any practical way.

The truth of the matter, however, is that there is, in fact,

no difference between Holst's personae and the 'ordinary mortal*.

We are all symbols, most of us just as intricately incongruous as

Savitri. Indeed, all that resides in the physical sphere is sym­

bolic, a token of the 'One'. It is true that an individual may not

be aware that he signifies in some way the fullness of reality.

Perhaps he is not conscious that, concealed within his thoughts,

his words, his actions, are intimations of the highest truths, just

as, in like fashion, Savitri, at times, seems not to be conscious

of the full import of what she says and does. But all this does

not reduce the significance of the symbol and its relationship with

that for which it stands; if one is not sentient of who and what he

truly is, his place as similitude of the whole remains.

Perhaps the problem of not apprehending the role of the sym-

bol as representation for something beyond itself arises when we do not look past the symbol itself, seeing it as complete rather than 186 metaphorical. Like gazing at an orb, it would be foolish to count the small portion which is visible to the eye as the total reality.

We know that the part of the orb facing us, the part which can be

seen, is merely evidence of the sides and the back which are hidden

from view. Logically, we know the invisible portions are there and

that they are very similar to the smaller section which we can see.

Intuitively, we should know the same of that which surrounds us in

the material world; all things of which we are cognizant by means

of the five physical senses are simply signs and types of something

much larger, much more complete, something we know spiritually to

be there, though it is not as visible as the tangible evidence which

points to its existence. Thus, all is emblematic, we included. And

it is in this way that we can identify with the complex yet fascina­

ting personalities that wander Holst's score. They live nearer home

than one may suppose.

Holst's characters, then, are symbols, tools in his hands, in­

dividual and material constructs of the manifold concepts and ideals

he is setting forth in his opera. And as they represent the coming

together of numerous diverse elements in one unified form, there is

really nothing that can be considered disconsonant in their nature.

All attributes which logically appear to counteract each other are

in fact complementary. And as each character is a symbolic micro­

cosm, so to speak, of the whole, and as the whole itself contains all

things, none of which are truly opposing, then Savitri, Satyavan, and

Death, too, are complete and homogenous, all their features autually dependent upon one another.

The notion of the mutual dependence of diverse elements within 187 one unit makes plain that every idiosyncrasy manifest by any of

Holst's characters is needful and therefore justifiable in some way. Even those most contradictory features, those which seem most mundane and prosaic, those which seem blatantly to pit one individual against another, placing them in Maya's temporal world of distinctions— even all these have their function and must be accepted for the necessary part they play in the whole. Indeed, there are those Hindu writings which, though warning the seeker to beware the especial deceptions of mortality, still emphasize that everything is an emanation of Brahman; nothing, not even the physi­ cal plane, is thoroughly unreal or without value, the whole is sim- 3 ply not complete without all its parts.

Illusion or Reality

In weighing the important doctrine that all aspects of the

’One* are essential, it follows that all levels of understanding and realization of these various aspects are also essential and therefore valid in their own right. Once contemplating the mul­ tiple planes of awareness, however, one must again regard with cau­ tion the degree to which their perceptions may or may not be ob­ scured by illusion. The presence of Maya shall always prove con­ founding and is particularly a problem in Holst's opera because, in addition to the complications created by characters who func- tion in so many roles, the listener feels the pressure of contin­ ually trying to determine what is fantasy and what is not. The differentiation between illusion and reality may especially seem necessary here, as each of the characters, at some point, have been 188 connected with Maya. This, of course, has been most evident with

Death, but the sweep of illusion has affected Savitri and Satyavan as well.

With this most obvious problem in mind, how is one possibly going to distinguish between what is genuine and what is bogus?

How can one discern with assurity the presence of Maya? The final phrases of Savitri1 s song for Life may afford a clue. For it is here that she proclaims the qualities of the most plenary form of

Life, heralding an existence wherein "time and space are forgot and

joy and sorrow are one." From this, it would appear that all things which exist in a subject/object relationship, in a cause and effect

environment of time and space are delusive. Furthermore, any ac­

knowledgement of fixed distinctions of diametric poles, the neu­

tralization of which being symbolized by the conciliation of joy

and sorrow, is a sure invitation to the powers of Maya.

All this, of course, has already been stressed in one way or another. It is reintroduced here, nonetheless, to further elucidate

some vital points. First, it has been determined by now that the most materially salient qualities of Holst's characters, particu­ larly those which cause them to stand apart from one another, are illusionary. But it has also been established that even these more mundane attributes are a necessary ingredient of the total person­ age. Thus, if all features of the whole individual are recognized for what they are, it may not be that crucial or even desirable to distinguish clearly between one aspect of the totality and another, in other words, to determine precisely where the 'imaginary1 ceases and the ’actual' begins. The rational mind's persistent urge to 189

draw some definitive line between what is illusion and what is au­

thentic may simply be out of place here.

There is something else, too, which should be thoughtfully

considered whenever judging the rather fine balance between illu­

sion and reality. Death himself has offered the listener a vital

principle when he says that Maya rules both the worlds where men

dream they are living and where they dream they are dead. It is

apparent here that both the isolated states of ‘living1 and of

’being dead* are illusions. But for those who believe thoroughly

that such is their lot, the illusion itself becomes a reality, a

reality with its own unique provisions, restrictions contingent

upon the demands of those who not only adhere to them, but who

also have created them. The inhabitants of Death*s kingdom re­

main therein because they in fact believe themselves to be dead,

subject to laws and conditions of their own making. In short, ev­

ery concept of *what is* becomes a fact to those who imagine it to

be so.

Pondering such a notion tells one that, for every entity in

the universe capable of formulating a sense of reality, there may

well be that many different conceptions of what is truly real,

each of these conceptions functioning as a complete system of truth

for its own particular inventor. It may be hoped that there does

exist some ultimate truth which transcends and yet somehow includes

all others, persisting independent of the extent to which it is ac­

knowledged and understood by men. Such is generally the belief in

Hindu thought. And such is held for the most part in Holst's opera, where the highest level of enlightenment is regarded as the aware- 190 ness of perfect union, a state of consciousness which supersedes the terrestrial levels of categorization and the discrimination of exclusive types.

Still, even in a setting such as this opera, where some dif­ ferentiation is being attempted between what is specious and what is genuine, care should be taken if one strives to arrive at some positive stand on what in the composition is strictly Maya and what is not. Remember that all elements of Holst's opera are symbolic.

And as the composer's cardinal theme is unity, all his characters and ideas are likewise symbols of oneness, the nature of the sym­ bol being that all component parts, real and unreal, are coequal, intermixing in such a way that to mark conclusively and unequivo- cably between one part and the next is pointless.

The Pathway

If Holst's opera is seen as a complex of symbols, then all its ingredients, not only the three main characters, are allegor­ ical in some way. Some of these figurative ideas may readily come to mind: the forest, the mirror, the gate, "Night’s gloomy pall,"

Satyavan's axe, Savitri's enshrouding robe of affection, even the gift of Life itself— these are all symbolic. But there is one met­ aphorical idea in particular which runs subtlely though pervasively throughout, like a string of continuity which connects all aspects of the opera from beginning to end. This allegorical device is the

'pathway',^ the supreme symbol which not only accomplishes an organ- ic flow between events and ideas, but which also embraces perfectly

Holst's ideal of timeless unity. 191

It may be recalled from the first chapter that the composer’s indications for staging axe minimal. First, the opera may be per- formed inside a small auditorium or out-of-doors. To be in keeping with the spirit of the music and the small musical resources, it is assumed that scenery and costuming will be conservative, though all this is left, nonetheless, to the discretion of the producer.

There is one specification, however, about which the composer is more precise: particulary if performed outside, there is to be a pathway running through a wood, even in the absence of all other sets and props, the pathway is requisite if at all possible.

It is also noteworthy that Holst himself suggests that, if any music be needed as prelude to the opera, his own Hymn of the

Travellers may be used, this being the fourth piece in his Third

Group of Choral Hymns from the Rig Veda, Opus 26, no.3. An invo­ cation to the god who is guide and protector of all those who tra­ verse the roads of mortality and eternity, the Hymn of the Travellers is an excellent introduction to that path taken by Savitri and Sat­ yavan, a roadway whereon they shall encounter all those things that will ultimately press them onward, through numberless gates of new awakening and discovery.

Holst has certainly made apparent his symbolic usage of this pathway throughout his opera. Death is the roadway that each must travel. He leads men onward through the gate, upon the path that cannot be turned. But it is also Death's avenue by which Satyavan. returning from the dead, bears to his beloved wife the gift of

Eternal Life. Life is also the roadway. For Savitri, it is the course of her very existence, bedecked with flowers, journeyed by 192 bright-eyed daughters "carrying Life on through the ages," the

communal path she shall travel through the tineless, spaceless

eternities.

Holst's pathway, then, is both the way of Death and the way

of Life. This was established in the preceding analysis. It has

no length, for its length is endless. It has no width, for its

width is immeasurable. And its course is the harmonious flow of

all things reunited. It is the pathway, the supreme symbol of the

superior reality which is circumscribed by neither time nor space,

the reality of absolute unity.

Savitri and Satyavan, themselves symbols, cover the path.

And each, though they are one, meet with Life and Death in their

own way. Savitrifs travels in particular are closely followed,

more so than Satyavan’s, and thus further illuminate a personal­

ity which has surely been revealed as extremely intricate. It

has been seen that Savitri, especially when evaluated superfici­

ally, has displayed a rather heterogeneous conglomerate of atti­

tudes and character traits. But if one considers the unfolding

of Savitri *s identity from the opening scenes to the close of the

opera, observing her progress and development as she proceeds along

the path, a discernible pattern clearly begins to emerge.

As Savitri*s journey begins, she appears no more exceptional

than any other mortal. She hears Death's black summons and is

filled with horror, obviously viewing him in the most elementary

fashion_the baleful phantom, lord of the tomb. When actually in

Death's presence, however, she instantly sees that he is no evil spectre, but rather a god, a sacred being whose purpose is honor­ 193 able and whose call is essential for the unifying of all men. Al­

ready, from this change in attitude, it begins to be apparent that,

as Savitri's journey continues, her understanding is broadening.

And it is an 'opening up' which further develops as she implores

Death for the gift of Life, an ardent request which, even in it-

self, manifests the evolution taking place within her,

Savitri commences her appeals by asking for a Life free of

defeat, disease, and despair, a Life where striving is rewarded by

resounding triumphs. As was conceded in the analysis, this is cer­

tainly a pedestrian notion of the exemplary Life, especially from

a Hindu point of view. But as she proceeds, her request becomes

somewhat more far-reaching, more comprehensive. She describes the

Life she seeks as a path of flowers, one she herself shall wander

with "stalwart sons" whom she shall send to battle "where fighting

is fiercest." Seeing Life as a path does indeed draw nearer the

Hindu ideal of an eternal existence of unity. Yet it is an ideal

where all controversies and hostilities have been resolved; there

are no battlefields upon which such "stalwart sons" may demonstrate

their valour. The conflicts of nations and of peoples, as well as

the conflicts of mind and soul, are peculiar to an existence admit­

ting inequalities and inimical differences.

But Savitrifs song does not conclude here. Her travels along

the path continue, her perceptions deepening, her awareness expand­ ing, her own realization of what she is seeking heightening as her adjurations reach their peak. And as she powerfully proclaims the wonders of a Life wherein "time and space are forgot and joy and sorrou sre one," the metamorphosis within her, too, attains a peak. 194 The woman who once cowered fearfully before Death now knows that he has no real power over her or her husband. Within the Life she has just won, Death simply does not exist as she aforetime per- ceived him.

As Savitri commands Death to withdraw, turning to revive her husband, who has also, through his wifefs wisdom and might, been freed from the illusion of Death, the listener is moved to marvel at the transformation which has taken place within this amazing woman. And it is an evolution which, in assuming a discernible course, makes more approachable Savitri!s complex nature* That she is a symbol has already been determined, justifying to great measure her seeming incongruities. But, as Savitri stands as epit- omal token for Holst's many levels of thought, she especially ex­ emplifies the traveller, the itinerant soul, the seeker who covers the eternal pathway in endless march, ever extending the vision, attaining broader, higher, more vastly inclusive planes of aware­ ness as forever proceeding along the way.

Savitri is Holst's wayfarer, one with a destined quest. She buds, grows, and then ripens, her flowering an emblem for all those who choose to follow the path. But as we wa^ch Savitri. grow and develop, evolving as she travels the road, we must remember that this road does not unfold under the conditions of space or o^me, and thus has no beginning and no end. We speak of Savitri 'com­ mencing' her journey, 'progressing' along the way, attaining high­ er levels of understanding as if she had come to the end of her quest. But none of this is to be taken literally. It is all mere­ ly a semantical expedient, a lingual method of dealing with events 195 which, in fact, do not actually occur in successive order along a road with definite origins and inevitable conclusions. Thus, there is really no point at which the wanderer reaches an ultimate destin­ ation. There are no 'arrivals' because there are no 'departures'.

The highway is travelled, but that is all. The journeys do not re­ sult in 'relocations'. The divine motion which covers the roadway is not compulsory, it is not movement 'to1 and ’from*. Yet it is energy, it is vitality, it is Eternal Life.

As the sacred pathway is not one of measurable distance, with well spaced markers along the way, movement between levels of un­ derstanding and perception should not be seen as advancement for­ ward, consecutive cause and effect occurrences proceeding from the primitive to the more elevated until the traveller has become 'per­ fected1 . In this light, the varying degrees of realization or awareness so well depicted in Savitri, are not really differen­ tiated from one another in terms of value. All stretches of the pathway have their place in the endless round. All planes of en­ lightenment, all moments of discovery and awakening are of worth.

All that needs be said is that some levels of understanding are more inclusive; from certain lookout points, more of the total picture can be seen.

So Savitri travels the path. But she cannot proceed with- out Satyavan. As she has so movingly declared, the gift of Ster­ nal Life is valueless without him of whom she is part. They have both encountered Death in their own way and now. reunited, must continue along the road. But as they journey, they journey as one flesh. Just as the lovers of Krishna are ecstatically joined with 196 their beloved, so too is Savitri joined with Satyavan, their per­

fect alliance representing perhaps Holst’s most powerful symbol of

divine unity— the mystic bond and covenant of husband and wife, the

emblem of man’s marriage with God and Truth. 197

Notes 1 See quotations from Holst's article, "The Mystic, the Philistine and the Artist," p. 17 of this thesis.

See Notes from Chapter 2, p. 180, no. 24. 3 See Notes from Chapter 1, p. 28, no. 13, and p. 32, no. 31.

The symbolic significance of the 'pathway1 is especially apparent in the Vedic writings. Here, the nonexistent reality of the universe makes itself existent and, with the aid of Savitr (the Sun), prepares pathways through the darkness upon which the now ex­ istent entities may again attain nonexistence. The Vedic Hymns speak of many paths— the path to heaven, the path to Savitr, the path of immortality— stressing that it is the gods and the holy men who are the true pathfinders, pointing out the way for those who shall follow. A fine discourse on the rich symbolism and ritual­ istic aspect of the Vedic tradition can be found in Jeanine Miller, The Vedas: Harmony, Meditation and Fulfilment (London: Rider and Company, 1974)* As regards the eternal nature of the pathway, the following comments from Pratima Bowes, The Hindu Religious Tradition (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977), pp. 46-47, are of interest: "Ac­ cording to the Hindu tradition there is no such thing as a once- for-all creation at a particular time from which progress towards a definite end, again once-for-all, can be calculated. . . . So the universe cannot be said to have any absolute beginning in time or absolute end, and the movement from beginning to end is always com­ plemented by a fresh beginning." SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Sources Consulted on the Music and the ComnoaBr

Musical Scores

Holst, Gustav. Collected Facsimile Edition: Autograph Manuscripts _oL the Published Works. Vol. 1, "Chamber Operas". Edited by Imogen Holst. London: Faber Music Limited, 1974.

Holst, Gustav. Savitri: An Episode from the Mahabharata. Op. 25. London. F. and B. Goodwin Limited (J. Curwen and Sons Lim­ ited), 1923.

Sources on the Composer

Holst, Gustav. Letters to W. G, Whitaker. Edited by Michael Short. Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1974.

Holst, Imogen. Gustav Holst: A Biography. London: Oxford University Press, 1969.

Holst, Imogen. The Music of Gustav Holst. London: Oxford University Press, 1968.

Holst, Imogen. A Thematic Catalogue of Gustav Holst’s Music. Lon­ don: Faber Music Limited, 1974.

Rubbra, Edmund. Gustav Holst: Collected Essays Edited by Stephen Lloyd and Edmund Rubbra. London: Triad Press, 1974.

Short, Michael. Gustav Holst: A Centenary Documentation. London: V/hite Lion Publishers Limited, 1974.

Sadie, Stanley, ed. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. London: Macmillan Publishers Limited, 1980.

Vaughan-Williams, Ralph, and Holst, Gustav. Heirs and RebelsLet­ ters Written to Each Other and Occasional Writings on Music. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1980 199 Hindu Sources Consul t.firi

English Translations of the Main Scriptural Sources

Upanishads

Nikhilananda, Swami. The Upanishads. 4. vols. New York: Harper and Bros., 1949-1959.

Radhakrishnan, R. The Principal Upanishads. New York: Harper and Bros., 1953.

Mahabharata

Buitenen, J. A. B. van. The Mahabharata. 3 vols. Chicago: Uni­ versity Press, 197$.

Bhagavad Gita

Buitenen, J, A. B. van. The Bhagavadgita in the Mahabharata. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981,

Herman, A. L. The Bhagavad Gita: A Translation and Critical Com­ mentary. Springfield, Illinois: Charles C. Thomas, 1973.

Philosophical and Theological Commentaries on Hindu Scripture and Thought

Besant, Annie. The Wisdom of the Upanishads. Madras, India: Theo- sophical Publishing House, 1925.

Bowes, Pratima. The Hindu Religious Tradition: A Philosophical Ap­ proach. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977.

Chennakesavan, Sarasvati. A Critical Stud;/ of Hinduism. Delhi: South Asia Books, 1980.

Choudhary, Kamakhya Prasad Singh. Modern Indian Mysticism. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1981.

Corlett, William, and Moore, John. The Hindu aound. Scarsdale, New York: Bradbury Press, 1978.

Deussen, Paul. The Philosophy of the Upanishads. Translated by Rev. A. S. Geden. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1966.

Johnson, Willard. Pnetrv and Speculation of the Rg Veda. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980. 200

Miller, Jeanine. The Vedas: Harmony. Meditation and Fulfilment. London: Rider and Company, 1974. ~ *

Organ, Troy Wilson. The Hindu Quest for the Perfection of Man. Athens, Ohio: Ohio University Press, 1970.

Pulsaker, A. D. Studies in the Epics and Puranas. Chaupatty, Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1963.

Ross, Floyd H. The Meaning of Life in Hinduism and Buddhism. Boston: Beacon Press, 1953.

Miscellaneous Sources Found Useful for this Study

Auclair, Marcelle. Saint Teresa of Avila. Translated by Kathleen Pond. Garden City, New York: Image Books (Doubleday and Co.), 1959.

Brenan, Gerald. Saint John of the Cross: His Life and Poetry. Poetry translated by Lynda Nicholson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973.

Merton, Thomas, and Suzuki, D. T. Zen and the Birds of Appetite. New York: New Directions, 1968.

Novak, Michael. The Experience cf Nothingness. New York: Harper and Row, 1970.

Underhill, Evelyn. Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Develop­ ment of Man's Spiritual Consciousness. London: Methuen and Co., Limited, 1962.

Zweig, Paul. The Heresy of Self-Love. Princeton: Princeton Uni­ versity Press, 1980. 0 0 8 3 0