"Dance to Death" is based on Alexander Nikolaevich Afanasyev's rendition of the fairy tale with the same title, also recognized as "The Midnight Dance," or in the version conveyed by the Grimm Brothers as "The Twelve Dancing Princesses".
The following is an interpretation of this tale aimed at providing a deeper insight into my poem, "Dance to Death".
This fairy tale holds a special place in my heart, brimming with enchanting imagery and profound allegorical elements.
Within its narrative, three prominent themes emerge:
The allure and perils of early sexual experience; it's worth noting that an orgasm is often metaphorically referred to as "la petite mort" in French, translating to "the little death."
The romantic entanglement surrounding the concept of death, portraying it as a realm of perfection and fulfillment that entices many young individuals to either challenge their existence or actively seek out death. This theme calls to mind figures like Romeo and Juliet, who deemed "unification in death" more valuable than remaining alive.
The growing emancipation of young girls from the constraints imposed by their parents, particularly their fathers and mothers. In this context, the tale's conclusion is especially poignant. A vivid illustration of this theme can be seen in the 2015 film "Mustang."
Additionally, an often-overlooked aspect is the bond of sisterhood, which plays a subtle yet significant role. Nell Greenwood draws parallels here with the film "The Virgin Suicides.
How to approach the story
This narrative is not merely a depiction of young girls within an oppressive culture, although it could be interpreted as such. The key to comprehending this tale lies in recognizing that these girls reside within an exceptionally beautiful, nurturing, and caring environment. Picture a father observing his daughters constantly fatigued, gradually losing weight. Those who have encountered a loved one afflicted by anorexia can relate to this situation. In today's world, we tend to swiftly search for signs of abuse, an overly restrictive upbringing, or similar factors. We might even attribute their condition to the girls' individualism or a pursuit of perfectionism, which we perceive as detrimental. To illustrate this, I recommend viewing the film "The Black Swan." The characteristic of perfectionism will be explored further in this article, but for now, let's focus on the initial scenario.
While all the reasons caregivers and psychologists mention may indeed play a role, and they may even be involved, I believe they miss the fundamental point. Therefore, I encourage you to envision this situation within the context of a nearly flawless world, where nothing genuinely adverse occurs. Just as in the film "Mustang," the parents adore their children, the family enjoys joyful moments, and there are celebrations and good times aplenty. There appears to be no requirement to delve into the realm of the dark and mysterious. However, there is one exception—the girls, often educated in a liberating and carefree manner, suddenly discover that their behavior is deemed unacceptable, inappropriate, and even offensive. It is this deeply ingrained, instinctual behavior tied to their blossoming femininity that comes into question, prompting them to question their very existence. This feeling of being somehow flawed, of not quite fitting in, drives them to seek a world that embraces their unique essence, their thirst for exploration.
To delve further into this topic, I recommend reading Nell Greenwood's articles, particularly "A New Twist on an Old Fairytale."
Rituals of transition
By the way, it's important to note that boys also undergo a similar experience, though this aspect is explored in other contexts. In both scenarios, a significant contributing factor to the various adolescent pathologies is the absence of meaningful transitional rituals that can genuinely address the needs of these young individuals.
In some respects, we can draw upon ancient rituals within our own cultures, often centered around our connection to the transcendent aspects of life, death, and our fears, viewing them as integral elements of our existence that can be managed.
However, I must admit that I am unaware of any truly effective rituals that specifically tackle the complex tensions that modern societies create concerning our sexuality, femininity, masculinity, and fertility.
The golden apple
Golden apples hold a remarkably specific significance in Eurasian symbology, tracing its roots back to the ancient Sumerian tale of Gilgamesh. What makes it even more intriguing is that the father remains entirely oblivious to his daughters' concealed secrets. It is only another man who can unearth this hidden truth. This individual is typically of noble birth but finds himself in impoverished circumstances or emerges from the crucible of war, depending on the rendition of the story. Moreover, his determination to unveil the secret is so unwavering that he is willing to stake his own life on the endeavor. In his aid, he possesses a magical cap that bestows upon him the gift of invisibility, enabling him to pluck a golden apple as irrefutable evidence of his successful discovery of the twelve girls.
These golden apples originate from one of the three distinct realms or kingdoms that both the girls and the prince must traverse: the silver, gold, and diamond realms. This bears a striking resemblance to the narrative of "The Three Kingdoms."
Cloak of invisibility
The Cloak of Invisibility holds a prominent role in this narrative. In "The Three Kingdoms," as the prince embarks on his quest to find his mother, he acquires a unique garment described as "without measurements." Similarly, in our tale, the male protagonist requires a cloak of invisibility to clandestinely follow the princesses without detection.
Delving into the full connotations of this mystical garment would be an extensive undertaking. It's noteworthy that throughout these narratives, it is consistently a male hero who necessitates this accessory. The archaic German term "hehlkappe," occasionally used, carries a linguistic link to the word "hehl" (to hide), which bears phonetic resemblance to "Hel" (the goddess of the underworld) and "hell" (the realm of the underworld).
The invisibility cloak extends beyond mere concealment from the girls' sight; it also symbolizes their father's inability to access their inner world. In a psychological sense, their father has lost the ability to connect with their inner thoughts and feelings. Their mother, seemingly absent, only an archaic woman intervenes, guiding the story toward a harmonious conclusion by providing sage advice and this extraordinary cloak to the man. While he becomes invisible to the girls, vanishing as a potential dance partner or marriage candidate, he gains the ability to perceive the concealed entrances leading to the enigmatic underworld.
Interpreting the invisibility coat as a "measureless" garment, as seen in analogous narrative patterns, we can view it as a metaphor for the capacity to transcend predefined norms and judgments. It signifies the openness to perceive things and people as they truly are, without imposing interpretations or restrictions—simply listening and observing.
In this dynamic between young girls and experienced men, a unique attraction exists, harboring significant potential if the man can resist becoming entangled in the underworld's dances and losing himself to its allure.
The poem
Returning to my poem, the initial stanza seeks to evoke a profound emotion. The girls are engrossed in an activity that gradually appears to consume them, yet they remain blissfully unaware. Something exerts an inexorable pull on them, seducing them into this self-destructive pursuit.
The second stanza delves into the yearning for perfection. While psychological analyses often depict perfectionism as a form of relentless competition, where one must always be the best and come first, I've found such traits rarely lead to true perfection. When I contemplate perfection, I envision Zen artists meticulously crafting a flawlessly round, hand-made pottery or expressing an idea through the meticulous design of their gardens. To me, it represents an aspiration to reach the transcendent, not a god with a surname or a ten-point program. It embodies a profoundly erotic desire that seeks to merge the realms of death and life into a singular existential experience. This concept of the divine does not equate to the "perfect" or the "hero" archetype. Instead, it mirrors Inanna's journey to reconcile with her sister, Ereshkigal, where she humbles herself at each of the seven gates, surrendering her divine powers. Each time she confronts her sister, the goddess of the underworld, she is reminded to remain silent and that she cannot stay. Ultimately, she is even stripped of her "ladyhood."
The third stanza intertwines with another tale of mine, one I hope to explore further someday. It embodies the imagery of a voyage into a colorless underworld, where the female hero possesses only a box of colored pencils to paint this monochromatic world. Through this act, she transforms war-ravaged landscapes into resplendent gardens. I penned this story in 1989/90 but never published it. However, there is a short film, "Evergreen" by Ushuaïa, which encapsulates the core idea quite effectively.
In the final stanza, the narrative's protagonist is revealed, not the prince who claims the prize and weds the eldest princess. While this alternative reading could offer a captivating narrative of malehood, my focus lies on the female perspective. Having succeeded in conveying their experiences and finding acceptance in their entirety through the prince, these young women can remain in the overworld. Their encounter with the "God of death" leaves them intimately aware that, like all living beings, they too will face mortality when their time comes. Yet, they also grasp the eternal nature of life. This realization empowers them to embrace motherhood, which embodies the deeper meaning of "getting married" in fairy tales.
I mention the "God of death" in this manner due to the rhyme pattern, although some cultures depict it as a female entity. I consider such anthropomorphizations as mere folly. The divine transcends human form, just as the measureless coat does. But that discussion warrants its own occasion. Additionally, I refrain from mentioning the golden apples and instead allude to the cup, aligning with a slightly different story version that resonates with the object's more explicit connotations, relating it to the sacred feminine.
