Tag Archives | Middelboe

Middelboe Chronicles, Part 18: Y Mabinogi (a.k.a. Otherworld)

Several themes from Cap o’ Rushes – rash vows, unkind parents, unhappy wedding feasts, and highborn princesses wrongfully exiled and/or made into servants – continue in today’s extra-long installment, Y Mabinogi (2003), a (pleasingly faithful) animated version of the Welsh cycle of interrelated legends, the Mabinogion.

For the first eleven minutes or so, you may find yourself asking: a) how is this an animated version? and b) how is this a version of the Mabinogion? But all will become clear.

This story features one of the most famous examples of the “magic loopholes” I discussed here and here, where Lleu can be killed only when neither indoors nor outdoors, neither on horseback nor on foot, etc.

We get a glimpse of the white hounds with red ears, the Cŵn Annwn, that are associated with the Underworld in Welsh mythology, though sadly they don’t really do much here.

The visit of Branwen’s brothers to the Irish court is also reminiscent of the visit of Gudrun/Kriemhild’s brothers to Attila’s court in the Völsungasaga and Nibelungenlied, where similar jollity ensues.

The way that Efnysien deals with the 200 warriors lurking in the sacks of flour is similar to the way Marjanah deals with the 40(ish) thieves lurking in the jars of oil in the story of Ali Baba.

You’ll also notice much that George R. R. Martin may have borrowed for Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones, including a wounded King named Bran with psychic powers, a feast where the guests are betrayed, and an army of the resurrected dead.

(Of course this is not the only example of guests betrayed at a feast. Martin himself has mentioned two examples from Scottish history as inspirations: the “Black Dinner” (Edinburgh, 1440), and the Glencoe massacre (1692). Another famous example is the betrayal of the Greek mercenaries after the battle of Cunaxa in 401 BCE, as related in Xenophon’s Anabasis.

By contrast, the similar event that occurs near the beginning of Braveheart is, like much else in that movie, entirely fictional.)


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 17: Cap o’ Rushes

And now we follow up As You Like It with another English tale of a noble daughter who is wrongfully exiled and who courts her future husband in disguise: Cap o’ Rushes (“Animated Tales of the World,” 2002). This tale combines aspects of the “Love Like Salt” legend (related to the King Lear/Leir story) and “Cinderella.”


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 16: As You Like It

Just as David, in yesterday’s installment, was wrongfully exiled from court and had to fend for himself in the wilderness, so does a similar fate befall the characters in As You Like It (“Shakespeare: The Animated Tales,” 1994):

The lion glimpsed at 18:29 and again at 23:43 seems to be borrowed from Henri Rousseau’s famous painting:


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 15: David and Saul

From Carmen to another (rather different) tale of love turned through jealousy to murderous enmity: the tale of David and Saul (“Testament: The Bible in Animation,” 1996). Interesting side note: Paul McGann provided the voice of David for this story, in the same year that he played the Eighth Doctor in the Doctor Who tv-movie.

Incidentally, I’m pretty sure that the story of David and Saul is how Kylo Ren sees his own experience with his Uncle Luke:


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 14: Carmen

Moving on from Othello, we come to another (rather different) tale of love, jealousy, and murder with an especially visually beautiful, rotoscoped Carmen (“Operavox,” 1995).

Nietzsche, who began his philosophical career with two encomia to Wagner (The Birth of Tragedy [1872] and Richard Wagner in Bayreuth [1876]), was by the end attacking Wagner and praising Bizet’s Carmen as a healthier alternative (The Case of Wagner [1888]):

Yesterday I heard – would you believe it? – Bizet’s masterpiece, for the twentieth time. … How such a work makes one perfect! One becomes a “masterpiece” oneself. … May I say that the tone of Bizet’s orchestra is almost the only one I can still endure? That other orchestral tone which is now fashion, the Wagnerian, brutal, artificial, and “innocent” at the same time and thus it speaks all at once to the three senses of the modern soul, – how detrimental to me is this Wagnerian orchestral tone! I call it scirocco. I break out into a disagreeable sweat. My good weather is gone.

This music seems perfect to me. It approaches lightly, supplely, politely. It is pleasant, it does not sweat. “What is good is light, whatever is divine moves on tender feet”: first principle of my aesthetics. This music is evil, subtle, fatalistic …. Have more painful tragic accents ever been heard on the stage? And how they are achieved! Without grimaces! Without counterfeit! Without the lie of the great style! …

Bizet’s work also saves; Wagner is not the only “Saviour.” With it one bids farewell to the damp north and to all the fog of the Wagnerian ideal. … [W]hat it has above all else is that which belongs to sub-tropical zones – that dryness of atmosphere, that limpidezza of the air. Here in every respect the climate is altered. Here another kind of sensuality, another kind of sensitiveness and another kind of cheerfulness make their appeal. This music is gay, but not in a French or German way. Its gaiety is African; fate hangs over it, its happiness is short, sudden, without reprieve. I envy Bizet for having had the courage of this sensitiveness, which hitherto in the cultured music of Europe has found no means of expression, – of this southern, tawny, sunburnt sensitiveness. … What a joy the golden afternoon of its happiness is to us! When we look out, with this music in our minds, we wonder whether we have ever seen the sea so calm. And how soothing is this Moorish dancing! How, for once, even our insatiability gets sated by its lascivious melancholy! – And finally love, love translated back into Nature! Not the love of a “cultured girl!” … But love as fate, as a fatality, cynical, innocent, cruel ….

In Nietzschean terms, this is high praise for Bizet (“evil” and “cruel” are not pejorative terms in his vocabulary) – but somewhat undercut by the book’s introduction, where he writes:

I have granted myself some small relief. It is not merely pure malice when I praise Bizet in this essay at the expense of Wagner. Interspersed with many jokes, I bring up a matter that is no joke.

It’s as though Nietzsche is saying, “I’m only half-joking when I praise Bizet as being better than Wagner.”

In any case, unlike Nietzsche I feel no need to choose between Wagner and Bizet. I am greedier than that.


Middelboe Chronicles, Part 13: Othello

The themes of malice, deceit, and revenge continue in Othello (“Shakespeare: The Animated Tales,” 1994) – with a cameo from Hamlet’s Ophelia at 17:10-38:

(For my own take on Othello, see here.)


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