Juliusz Słowacki

• Born: September 4, 1809
• Birthplace: Krzemieniec, Poland
• Died: April 3, 1849
• Place of death: Paris, France

Other Literary Forms

In addition to many masterworks of drama, the literary legacy of Juliusz Słowacki includes much epic and lyric poetry of the highest order. Although the greater part of Słowacki’s narrative poetry was published during his own lifetime, very few of his lyric poems were known to his contemporaries. He wrote approximately 130 lyric poems, of which only thirteen appeared in print before his death in 1849. It was only from 1866 onward, when Antoni Malecki began to bring out an edition of Słowacki’s collected works incorporating many of the unpublished manuscripts, that Słowacki’s countrymen gradually became aware of his genius as a lyric poet. In some of the later poems, it should be noted, Słowacki may be deemed to have transcended the stylistic conventions of Romanticism and to have developed poetic techniques that anticipated those employed by the French Symbolists and the English Pre-Raphaelites.

Słowacki’s earliest epic poetry is permeated by a Romantic melancholy and exoticism that is clearly derivative of George Gordon, Lord Byron’s writings. Most likely, his first true masterpiece of narrative verse is the elegiac autobiographical sketch entitled Godzinna myśli (1833; hour of thought). This work depicts the emotional travail of an adolescent poet growing up in the city of Wilno and its environs, and its sketchy plot focuses on his relationship with two people, a brilliant schoolmate who inexplicably commits suicide and an attractive girl who fails to return his love for her. Before long, however, Słowacki found a political focus for his deep-rooted personal pessimism. Among the noteworthy works of an explicitly political nature is Anhelli (1838; English translation, 1930). Written in poetic prose with biblical affinities, it relates the tragic plight of a contentious group of Polish exiles in the frozen wasteland of Siberia during the years following the ill-fated November Insurrection of 1830. His next major narrative poem is the love idyll W Szwajcarii (1839; In Switzerland, 1953). Set amid the scenic splendor of the Alps, the idyll consists of a series of episodes in the life of a pair of lovers. The reader is told of their meeting, their marriage, the premature death of the bride, and the young man’s subsequent departure from Switzerland. The fundamental romantic appeal of this simple tale is, moreover, greatly enhanced by the delicate musicality of its verse.

Some of Słowacki’s most successful works of narrative verse are, furthermore, quite unorthodox in form. One such instance is the posthumously published travel diary Podróż na wschód (1836; journey to the east). This poetic journal describes Słowacki’s voyage from Naples to Greece as well as his subsequent wanderings in that country. It is, however, frequently interrupted by digressions in which the poet expatiates on various topics of personal concern. The eighth canto of this work was printed separately in 1840 under the title Grób Agamemnona (Agamemnon’s Grave, 1944). At a grotto then believed to be the burial chamber of Agamemnon, the poet recalls the legendary heroism of the ancient Greeks and bemoans the defects in both his own character and that of his countrymen. Similarly topical in nature is the epic entitled Beniowski (1841). While most of Beniowski is devoted to the adventures of the eponymous hero in the course of an anti-Russian conspiracy that took place in the Polish Ukraine during the 1760’s, Słowacki manages, in the plot of this loosely structured narrative poem, to insert numerous satiric attacks directed against the current follies of his compatriots. It was this work, in fact, that first established Słowacki’s literary reputation among the Polish émigrés in Paris.

The definitive expression of Słowacki’s religious and philosophical convictions is to be found in Genezis z ducha (1844; genesis from the spirit) and Król-Duch (1847; king-spirit). Both of these works stress the supremacy of the spirit over matter. In the prose poem Genezis z ducha, Słowacki presents his readers with a vision of cosmic evolution that has strong affinities with the theories advanced in the twentieth century by the French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. A major role in the evolutionary process that is moving humankind toward spiritual perfection is played by leaders whom Słowacki designates as “king-spirits.” The manifestation of the spirit on the historical level is examined in Król-Duch, an epic poem written in ottava rima and divided into segments called “rhapsodies.” Here, Słowacki employs a concept of metempsychosis that is derived from the tenth book of Plato’s Politeia (388-368 b.c.e.; Republic, 1701), in which the Orphic doctrine of reincarnation is related in the section entitled “The Myth of Er.” In Słowacki’s adaptation of this episode, a Greek warrior named Er embraces the idea of Poland while awaiting his next reincarnation, and on rebirth, he assumes the identity of Popiel, the legendary Polish king of prehistory. Other reincarnations follow that carry on the historical mission of Poland. Despite the fact that Słowacki was able to give final form to only the first of the five rhapsodies that make up its text, many regard Król-Duch as his finest work.

Achievements

The high point in Polish literature was attained in the Romantic period during the first half of the nineteenth century. The most distinguished poets of this epoch were Adam Mickiewicz , Juliusz Słowacki, and Zygmunt Krasiński. Each of them, to varying degrees, wrote dramatic literature. Mickiewicz, except for two unimportant plays written in French, restricted himself to the composition of three independent dramatic works that he rather arbitrarily chose to link together under the title Dziady (1822-1832; Forefathers’ Eve, 1925, 1944-1946). The third part of Dziady is now generally regarded as the single most important play in the history of the Polish theater. Krasiński’s contribution to the stage is limited to a pair of plays, both of which soon attained the status of classics: Nie-Boska komedia (pb. 1835, pr. 1902; The Undivine Comedy, 1846) and Irydion (pb. 1836, pr. 1908; Iridion, 1875). Słowacki, in contrast, completed nearly twenty full-length plays of great variety, and by virtue of these works, he has been singled out as the founder of modern Polish drama.

Although Słowacki’s dramatic works are now part of the standard repertory of the Polish theater, public recognition of their merit came to pass only many decades after the poet’s death. The Polish exiles in Paris or elsewhere had no theater of their own, and political conditions in their homeland precluded the staging of works by those engaged in promoting revolutionary activities. The sole dramatic work by Słowacki to be performed during his own lifetime was Mazeppa, a translated version of which was staged in Budapest in 1847. It was not until the 1860’s that his plays began to be produced in various cities within the Austrian section of partitioned Poland. For the most part, however, they remained proscribed in other parts of the country until the restoration of national independence in the aftermath of World War I. Over the years, six of these works have proved to be especially popular with Polish audiences: Mary Stuart, Kordian, Balladyna, Lilla Weneda, Mazeppa, and Fantazy. Also noteworthy is Słowacki’s free-verse adaptation of Pedro Calderón de la Barca’s El príncipe constante (1629; The Constant Prince, 1893), which he published under the title Książȩ niezłomny (the inflexible prince) in 1844. This work has become one of the most highly regarded presentations of the Laboratory Theater, situated in the city of Wrocław, as produced and directed by the group’s founder, Jerzy Grotowski.

Biography

Juliusz Słowacki was born in the year 1809 on September 4 (August 23, Old Style), and hence his life unfolded amid the political turmoil that arose as a result of the partitioning of Poland by Russia, Prussia, and Austria during the closing decades of the eighteenth century. The annexation of Polish territory by its more powerful neighbors occurred in three stages. The first partition took place in 1772; the second, in 1792; and the third, in 1795. The town of Krzemieniec, Słowacki’s birthplace, was situated in the province of Volhynia in eastern Poland and came under Russian occupation in 1795. It was here in 1805 that the eminent Polish historian Tadeusz Czacki established a lyceum that was to bring great renown to Krzemieniec. The town was, in fact, called the “Volhynian Athens” and achieved a rank second only to Wilno in terms of importance as a cultural center in the eastern regions of the old Polish Republic. At the time of the poet’s birth, his father, Euzebiusz Słowacki, was a professor of literature and rhetoric at the famed lyceum. His mother, Salomea (née Januszewska), was a well-educated woman with a strong penchant for reading literature of a sentimental nature. The bond between mother and son was exceptionally strong, and a number of literary critics have gone so far as to ascribe a mother fixation to Słowacki because of his lifelong need for her emotional support.

A few years after Słowacki’s birth, his parents moved to Wilno because of his father’s appointment to a chair in literature at the University of Wilno. His tenure in this position proved to be a brief one, owing to his sudden death in 1814, when his son was only five years old. After three years of widowhood, Słowacki’s mother decided to enter into a second marriage with Dr. August Bécu, a medical professor at the University of Wilno. Dr. Bécu was himself a widower, with two daughters from his previous marriage. The members of the new household nevertheless lived together quite harmoniously, and Słowacki seems to have developed a genuine attachment to all the members of his adopted family. The future poet was somewhat frail as a child and prone to ill health. As the only boy in the family, he was pampered by his mother and his two stepsisters. Because Dr. Bécu’s home was a meeting place for the intellectual elite of Wilno, Słowacki received an early exposure to literary and political controversy. The fact that literature was a matter of importance within the family induced Słowacki to read voraciously in several languages. This idyllic existence came to an abrupt end in 1824, when Dr. Bécu was struck by lightning and died as a result.

After the death of her second husband, Słowacki’s mother returned to Krzemieniec, where she was able to live quite comfortably on the pensions that she received as the widow of two university professors. Since Słowacki had already completed his secondary education, it was deemed best that he remain in Wilno and enroll at the university there. Although his mother always encouraged his literary interests, viewing them as social graces, she insisted on his training for a career in law. Shortly before Słowacki’s matriculation at the university, the Russians had discovered the existence of clandestine political organizations among the city’s youth and took stern measures to suppress them. Many students were among those arrested, and some were forced into Russian exile. As a result of this repression, the intellectual climate at the university became one of cautious conservatism in all fields. Being somewhat aloof by nature, at least outside his family circle, Słowacki formed few intimate relationships among his peers. His only close friend was Ludwik Szpicnagel, and his only love interest was Ludwika Śniadecka. Both were his seniors by a few years and had fathers who were professors at the university. Szpicnagel was to commit suicide, and Śniadecka proved unresponsive to Słowacki’s courtship. Despite these tribulations, Słowacki completed the prescribed course of studies within three years and even managed occasionally to visit his mother in Krzemieniec. After receiving his law degree, he returned to Krzemieniec for a six-month stay before embarking on a career as a civil servant.

In 1829, at the age of nineteen, Słowacki became an employee of the ministry of finance in Warsaw. There he felt free to pursue his literary interests more seriously. Except for a short poetic narrative published anonymously, none of his poetry had ever appeared in print. He had, however, written a number of poetic works while he was a student at the University of Wilno, and he now planned to publish them collectively in a single volume. Inspired by the lively theatrical life in Warsaw, he also decided to try his hand at writing for the stage and swiftly completed two dramas. The first was called Mindowe Król Litewski, a play based on events drawn from the history of medieval Lithuania. The second bore the title Mary Stuart and dealt with the early life of the Scottish queen. These two plays were to make up the contents of the second volume of his collected works to date. Before Słowacki could complete arrangements for the printing of either volume, however, an anti-Russian insurrection broke out in Warsaw and quickly spread to other parts of the country. Although Słowacki had been largely apolitical up to that time, the upheaval in Warsaw was to alter his life irrevocably.

During that period, Warsaw was the capital of an entity that later came to be called Congress Poland, because it had been created at the Congress of Vienna in 1815 in the aftermath of the Napoleonic wars. Although its official name was the Kingdom of Poland, the Russian czar, Nicholas I, was its mandated ruler, and the czar’s brother, Grand Duke Constantine, was commander of its armed forces. Such Russian dominance of their country was deeply resented by most Poles. Another source of dissatisfaction lay in the fact that the reconstituted kingdom embraced but a small portion of the territory that Poland had controlled before the partitions. Thus, Krzemieniec and Wilno were not even a part of the kingdom and lay deep within the Russian-occupied eastern provinces. The insurrection began in November, 1830, when Nicholas I announced that he intended to use Polish troops, along with Russian forces, to suppress revolutions that had recently broken out in France and Belgium. The foremost Polish historian of the day, Joachim Lelewel, formulated the motto “For Our Freedom and Yours” as an appeal for international support, and the insurrectionists duly urged the Russian people to join them in their revolt against czarist tyranny.

The conflict between Russia and Poland was to last ten months before reaching its inevitable end. Słowacki initially greeted the outbreak by writing an ode to freedom in its honor, but despite his personal enthusiasm for the goals of the revolution, he engaged in no further political activity on its behalf for the next few months. Then, for reasons that are not entirely clear, Słowacki left Warsaw early in March and went to Dresden. He remained in Dresden until July, at which time he received orders from the Polish revolutionary government to undertake a diplomatic mission on its behalf. His instructions called for him to go to London via Paris. He traveled posthaste and reached Paris in six days. After five hours in the French capital, he rushed off for Boulogne. Having just missed the daily boat for England, he chartered a vessel of his own to take him to Dover and ordered the Polish flag to be flown from its mast. After spending several weeks in London, he decided to return to Paris. By this time it was clear that the insurrection was doomed to defeat, and Słowacki therefore made no attempt to return to Warsaw. The Polish capital did, in fact, capitulate to the Russians on September 8, 1831. Facing certain arrest if he returned to Poland, Słowacki thought it best to remain in France for the time being. Some ten thousand Poles were to leave their homeland for sanctuary in the West in a move that has come to be called the Great Migration. Unlike most of the other émigrés who left Poland to escape Russian retribution, Słowacki always had sufficient funds to meet his own living expenses. The money, sent to him periodically by his mother throughout his entire life in exile, came from a bequest left to him by his father. By investing these modest sums wisely in stocks, Słowacki acquired the wherewithal to pursue his literary ambitions free from financial restrictions.

Although émigrés from Poland also gathered in London, Geneva, and Rome, it was Paris that became the chief center of Polish cultural life for the exiles. Undoubtedly, the two most prominent émigrés in the French capital were Frédéric Chopin and Adam Mickiewicz. Mickiewicz, who had undergone four years of Russian exile for his political activities in the city of Wilno, was slightly more than ten years older than Słowacki and had already earned his reputation as the foremost Polish poet of his generation. Słowacki, on this account, strongly desired Mickiewicz’s critical approval of his own poetic endeavors. Being financially independent, he arranged for the publication of a two-volume edition of his works under the title Poezye (poems) in 1832 and then anxiously awaited Mickiewicz’s reaction. Because the content of these volumes was completely devoid of any political or religious ideology, Mickiewicz dismissed them as “a church without a God inside.” Perhaps even more offensive to Słowacki than this harsh verdict on his poetry was the fact that Mickiewicz had used his stepfather, Dr. Bécu, as a model for an extremely unsympathetic character in the newly published part 3 of his dramatic composition Forefathers’ Eve. Readers could readily identify the doctor in the play with his real-life counterpart because this character is also killed by a lightning bolt, as Słowacki’s stepfather had been. Mickiewicz, in this fashion, implied that Dr. Bécu had been punished by Providence because of his refusal to support revolutionary activity aimed at restoring Poland’s freedom. Słowacki was so incensed that he wanted to challenge Mickiewicz to a duel, but he was eventually dissuaded from doing so. Since the émigré community proved to be totally indifferent toward his writings, Słowacki saw no compelling reason to remain in Paris, and he left for Switzerland near the end of 1832. The person most sorry to see Słowacki leave Paris was Cora Pinard, the fifteen-year-old daughter of his printer. Her fondness for the young poet was so enduring that she continued to place fresh flowers on his grave for years after his death in 1849, although she was at that time the wife of a rich manufacturer.

Słowacki took up residence in a quiet pension in the suburbs of Geneva. His landlady was extremely well disposed toward him and hoped that he would marry her daughter and remain in Switzerland permanently. Słowacki, however, preferred to court a young Polish aristocrat named Maria Wodzińska. Wodzińska herself was something of a celebrity, since it was common knowledge that Frédéric Chopin was passionately in love with her. On one occasion, Słowacki went on an excursion into the Swiss Alps with her and other members of her family, and this experience inspired him to write the love idyll In Switzerland. His chief literary activities during these years, however, were focused on the writing of five dramas, two of which, Kordian and Balladyna, are considered to be among his most important works for the theater. Despite his contentment with life in Switzerland—first at Geneva and later at Lausanne—Słowacki jumped at the opportunity to go to Rome for the sake of a family reunion with his maternal uncle and one of his foster sisters, who were now husband and wife, and he thereupon terminated his three-year Swiss sojourn, in February, 1836. His relatives were on a grand tour of Italy, and he joined them in seeing the sights in Rome and even went with them on a trip to Naples. Although only six years had elapsed since he had last seen them in Poland, it soon became apparent that he now had little in common with them. Słowacki did, however, meet someone in Rome with whom he shared strong mutual interests: Count Zygmunt Krasiński, a poet who was his junior by a few years. Krasiński, despite his youth, was already the author of two widely acclaimed plays. He quickly recognized Słowacki’s genius and did much to inspire him with confidence in his own literary talent and poetic mission.

Słowacki abruptly cut short his stay in Italy when he learned of a possibility of taking a trip to the Near East in the company of two compatriots whom he had met by chance. The trip proved to be beneficial to him in terms of literary productivity, for under the stimulus of travel he wrote constantly and turned out several major works—one of which was the posthumously published travel diary entitled Podróż na wschód. Departing from Naples in August, 1836, Słowacki and his companions went first to Greece, next to Egypt, and then to Palestine. While in Jerusalem, Słowacki prayed all night in a church containing Christ’s tomb and ordered a mass to be said for Poland. From Palestine, the party went on to Lebanon, at which point Słowacki took leave of his companions in order to spend a few weeks in contemplation at a local monastery. There he wrote the first draft of the long prose poem Anhelli.

After a voyage from Beirut to Leghorn, Słowacki arrived back in Italy during the summer of 1837. He then hastened on to Florence and settled down for a protracted stay in that city. Słowacki, as always, worked zealously on his own literary compositions. In addition, he still found time to learn both Italian and Spanish. The small Polish colony in the Tuscan city was prepared to lionize the young poet and gladly opened its homes to him. An accomplished amateur pianist, Słowacki played the music of Chopin in some of the finest salons in Florence, including that of Joseph Bonaparte’s daughter, and doting admirers frequently told him that he resembled his distinguished musical compatriot. Despite such pleasures, Słowacki began to grow a bit restless and felt a need to rejoin the Polish émigré colony in Paris so as to be at the center of literary and political activity involving his homeland. The immediate impetus to leave Florence was Krasiński’s arrival in the city, bearing ill tidings from Poland. Krasiński, whose family had never supported the November Insurrection, was permitted freedom of movement by the czarist officials, and on a recent trip to Poland he had heard reports that a number of Słowacki’s relatives, including the poet’s own mother, had been arrested on charges of anti-Russian political activity. Because it was much easier to get news from Poland in Paris, Słowacki soon set out for the French capital and thus ended his eighteen-month stay in Florence.

Although Słowacki arrived in Paris in the later part of December, 1838, he had to wait until May, 1839, before receiving concrete information about his mother’s release. Once he knew that his mother was safe, Słowacki felt free to resume writing. Before long, moreover, he was deeply in love again. This time the woman was Joanna Bobrowa, a statuesque beauty from Volhynia who had recently been romantically involved with his friend Krasiński. Even though Krasiński had definitely broken off with her, she remained loyal to him and could not return Słowacki’s love. Słowacki eventually decided to settle for her friendship, and the two remained lifelong companions. By the middle of 1842, he also managed to complete four new dramatic works, among which were Lilla Weneda and Mazeppa. Then, on July 12, 1842, Andrzej Towiański, a religious mystic from Wilno, had a long talk with Słowacki and succeeded in turning him into a disciple. Towiański had been in Paris since September, 1841, and had already converted Mickiewicz to his inner circle. His teachings emphasized the central importance of the Hebrew, French, and Polish peoples in God’s scheme for establishing the kingdom of Heaven on Earth as well as the crucial role to be played by great individuals in furthering the historical manifestation of the divine will.

From then on, Słowacki assumed the role of national bard, a position that Mickiewicz had recently vacated by virtue of a decision to abandon poetry in favor of direct political action. As national bard, Słowacki saw himself as both a teacher of spiritual truths and a prophet. He soon expressed his philosophical credo in a remarkable prose poem entitled Genezis z ducha and then began work on the grandiose historical epic Król-Duch. Notwithstanding his preoccupation with the task of developing a new metaphysical system, Słowacki found time to produce several important dramatic works with strong spiritual overtones. In view of Towiański’s partiality toward the dramas of Pedro Calderón de la Barca, moreover, Słowacki persuaded himself to compose a free-verse adaptation of the Spanish playwright’s The Constant Prince. As befits a national bard, Słowacki also began to take part in the intense political debates of the émigré community in Paris and eventually became estranged from both his erstwhile mentor Towiański and his close friend Krasiński, as a result of ideological differences. In 1846, amid all this activity, Słowacki discovered that he had contracted tuberculosis; in 1847, he made out his will.

The spring of 1848 was a time of political upheaval throughout much of Europe. Although things remained under tight control in Russian-occupied Poland, insurrections broke out in the Polish territories under Prussian and Austrian rule. In order to assist his compatriots in the Prussian area, Słowacki left Paris on short notice and arrived in Poznań on April 10. The revolt there was short-lived, and Słowacki had to flee Poznań to avoid arrest by the Prussian police. For a time he lived under an assumed name in the Silesian city of Breslau, where he was able to arrange for his mother to come from Krzemieniec to visit him. The reunion with his mother, whom he had not seen in more than eighteen years, was a sad one. Both knew that this would be their last meeting, for the effects of tuberculosis had taken a terrible toll on Słowacki’s health. He returned to Paris in June, 1848, and spent the last months of his life working feverishly on the epic poem Król-Duch. When he was too weak to write, he resorted to dictation. Finally, on an afternoon in April, 1849, Słowacki died with great composure, even though he was so lacking in physical strength that he was unable to open a letter from his mother that had arrived that day. Oddly enough, Chopin himself was to die of the same malady later that year; both he and Słowacki were interred in cemeteries in Paris. At his own request, however, Chopin’s heart was removed from his body after his death and taken back to Poland by his sister Ludwika. Today the urn containing his heart rests in the baroque Church of the Holy Cross in Warsaw.

Słowacki’s turn to rejoin his homeland physically did not occur until 1927, when the newly independent Polish state arranged for his remains to be transported from Paris and placed in the royal crypt of the Wawel Castle in Kraków amid the tombs of Poland’s kings and national heroes. Słowacki’s sarcophagus is to be found alongside that of Mickiewicz. Although both Krzemieniec and Wilno were part of the Polish republic in the period between the two world wars, these cities now lie outside the frontiers of present-day Poland as a result of their annexation by the Soviet Union during the course of World War II. Krzemieniec, now called Kremenets, lies within the Ukraine, while Wilno today bears the name Vilnius and is the capital of Lithuania.

Analysis

It was Juliusz Słowacki’s desire to write a variety of plays that could form basis for a repertory of a national theater. Intimately familiar with the masterworks of Western literature, he freely borrowed themes, plots, and techniques from a host of different writers. Because of Słowacki’s overt attempts to simulate the aesthetic effects achieved by Shakespeare, Calderón, and other writers, in combination with elements derived from old Polish poetry and Slavic folklore, the eminent Belgian literary scholar Claude Backvis has referred to plays such as Balladyna and Lilla Weneda as “amazing literary cocktails.” In the view of many other critics, Backvis’s remark underscores the main weakness in Słowacki’s dramatic œuvre: namely, his penchant for mixing the styles of different authors and different periods within one and the same play. Despite this excessive reliance on purely literary inspiration, however, Słowacki’s plays possess a genuine spiritual passion that will ensure their continued status as masterworks in the repertory of the classical Polish theater. Along with Mickiewicz and Krasiński, furthermore, Słowacki possessed the creative genius to write works which assured that the cause of Polish independence would never be abandoned.

Mary Stuart

Słowacki wrote Mary Stuart when he was little more than twenty years of age. Despite its obvious weaknesses, the work still has a large number of admirers. Much of the reason for its continued popularity must be attributed to the subject matter itself. The tragic fate of Mary Stuart has fascinated playwrights throughout the world from the very outset. The first drama about the Queen of Scots appeared in 1589—a play written in Latin by a French Jesuit only two years after her death. Of all the plays written on the topic since then, Friedrich Schiller’s Maria Stuart (pr. 1800, pb. 1801; Mary Stuart, 1801) is undoubtedly the most important. Słowacki had seen a Polish translation of a French version of Schiller’s drama in 1830 and completed his own play about the Scottish queen shortly before the outbreak of the November Insurrection in the same year. Although Schiller limits himself to covering the three days immediately preceding Mary’s execution in 1587, the events depicted by Słowacki extend from the autumn of 1565 to February, 1567.

The action of Słowacki’s play commences with the Queen of Scots demoting her husband, Lord Darnley, from his status as co-regent. In an apparent act of retribution, Darnley arranges for the murder of Mary’s Italian secretary and confidant, Rizzio. The killing takes place under the queen’s own eyes. Darnley also witnesses the murder by concealing himself behind her throne. Shortly thereafter, Mary succumbs to the advances of the earl of Bothwell. The ambitious nobleman, by offering her both physical protection and romantic consolation, hopes to advance his personal fortunes. He senses Mary’s inner desire for revenge and skillfully maneuvers her into expressing a wish that her husband suffer the same fate as Rizzio. When it is learned that Darnley has become ill and has taken up residence in a house on the outskirts of Edinburgh, Bothwell suggests that Mary visit her husband and induce him to take a sleeping potion that will make him more vulnerable to an assassin’s stiletto, which he himself promises to wield. The queen readily agrees to the plan.

Although somewhat distrustful of Bothwell’s motives, Mary visits her husband and feigns reconciliation. Afraid that her nervousness might betray her, she leaves before her husband drinks from the goblet. The king’s jester, however, suspects that the goblet contains poison and attempts to dissuade his master from drinking the liquid. Darnley, believing in his wife’s good faith, takes great offense at the jester’s insinuation and orders his execution. The jester quickly imbibes the contents of the goblet and dies within minutes. Unknown to Mary, Bothwell has planned to make her the agent of the king’s death. By turning her into a murderess, he seeks to attain the means of dominating Mary psychologically in their personal relationship.

Darnley’s reprieve is short-lived, however, for Bothwell has planted explosives under the king’s house in order to blow it up and thereby dispose of all evidence pertaining to Mary’s direct participation in the death of her husband. The deed accomplished, Bothwell returns to inform Mary that, as partners in crime, they are bound to each other for life. Mary, for her part, protests her innocence and refuses to accept any responsibility for the turn of events. She and her lover are, nevertheless, immediately suspected of being involved in Darnley’s death. Mary’s Scottish subjects, largely Protestant, deeply disapprove of the queen’s Catholic faith. Quick to become indignant at Darnley’s murder, the people advance toward the palace, and the play ends with Mary and Bothwell fleeing Edinburgh to escape from the mob’s wrath.

It is likely that Słowacki based his characterization of the young Mary on the disclosures contained in the final act of Schiller’s play about the Queen of Scots. Here, quite daringly, Schiller depicts an authentic Roman Catholic confession on the stage. Mary bares her soul to her confessor and fully admits to the acts of illicit sex and premeditated vengeance perpetrated in Scotland. Although about to be executed for her complicity in plots recently directed against her cousin Elizabeth I, she resolutely denies her guilt with respect to these charges. Mary transcends her tragic fate by regarding her impending execution as a means of atoning for the transgressions of her youth and thus attains spiritual freedom. Elizabeth, in contrast, refuses to acknowledge that she herself must bear ultimate responsibility for Mary’s execution and contrives to make it appear that a minor palace official implemented the execution order prematurely. Elizabeth’s vacillations and evasions, as depicted by Schiller, are strikingly similar to those ascribed to Mary in Słowacki’s play. Thus, Słowacki owes a twofold debt to the German dramatist. Unlike Schiller, however, Słowacki was content to use poetic prose rather than verse for his own drama about the Queen of Scots.

Kordian

Even though several historical personages appear among the dramatis personae of his next play, its plot is wholly invented by the author. As originally conceived by Słowacki, Kordian was to be the first part of a dramatic trilogy that would cover the history of the November Insurrection. The other two parts were never written, however, and it is uncertain how the problems raised in the first play would subsequently have been resolved. Written in Switzerland in 1833, the play is subtitled “A Coronation Conspiracy” and consists of three acts together with a prologue. Because Słowacki’s previously published books had not been received favorably, he thought it best to publish this verse drama anonymously so that it could be judged on its own merits.

In the first act, the fifteen-year-old Count Kordian agonizes over an unhappy love affair as well as over Poland’s tragic loss of independence. Believing himself to be incapable of heroic action, he decides to end his existence and duly makes an unsuccessful attempt at suicide. The second act depicts Kordian’s journey through Europe in search of self-knowledge. He visits both England and Italy. While in Rome he has an audience with Pope Gregory, whose negative attitude toward Polish independence is excoriated. Then, atop Mont Blanc, the young count resolves to consecrate his life to patriotic activity on behalf of Poland. The third act is set in Warsaw at the time of the coronation of Czar Nicholas I as king of Poland. Kordian now wears the uniform of a Polish military cadet and attempts, with limited success, to persuade other cadets to join him in a conspiracy to kill the czar. By chance he is assigned the duty of standing guard outside the bedroom of the Russian monarch on the eve of the coronation and resolves to carry out the assassination single-handedly. As Kordian enters the czar’s bedroom with drawn bayonet, his strength mysteriously deserts him and he falls to the floor unconscious. The authorities place him in an insane asylum in order to determine his mental competence as well as the true intent of his action. While incarcerated in the asylum, Kordian goes through much romantic soul-searching. Meanwhile, he is judged to be responsible for his behavior and is sentenced to death. The czar’s viceroy in Poland, Grand Duke Constantine, who was known to be sympathetic toward the Poles, wants Kordian to be pardoned and finally convinces his brother to rescind the death sentence. The final scene of the play takes place at the site of execution, but it is unclear whether the czar’s reprieve will arrive in time to spare Kordian’s life.

In the view of some critics, the protagonist’s name is derived from the Latin word for heart (cor) and thus symbolizes the romantic malady of a young man who is unable to translate feelings into action. Other critics view the name as being an anagram of Konrad, the central character in part 3 of Mickiewicz’s Forefathers’ Eve; in this reading, Słowacki’s play constitutes a repudiation of the notion that the fate of Poland would be determined by the acts of a “providential man.” Since Mickiewicz strongly implied that he himself was this exalted savior, Słowacki was bound to be doubly opposed to this romantic solution to the problem of Poland’s plight. In a larger sense, he was also criticizing the revolutionary ardor of his generation for its readiness to sacrifice itself in heroic, but ill-starred, ventures.

Balladyna

From the historical concerns of Kordian, Słowacki entered the realm of folklore with the dramatic work entitled Balladyna. Reduced to its basic plot, the play is a dramatized ballad about a poor woman who has two beautiful daughters: Balladyna and Alina. A rich and powerful nobleman named Kirkor falls in love with both of the sisters to an equal degree. Because he is unable to decide between them, Kirkor accepts the mother’s suggestion that the choice be left to fate and that he marry the one who first succeeds in filling a pitcher with raspberries from an adjacent wood. When Alina appears to be on the verge of winning the contest, Balladyna kills her in the wood and appropriates her sister’s berries for herself. In this way she becomes Kirkor’s wife. Before long, however, Kirkor leaves on a military expedition aimed at overthrowing a usurper of the Polish throne. The usurper is promptly slain, but Kirkor is unable to locate the royal crown and refuses to return home without it. Thus the quest continues.

In Kirkor’s absence, Balladyna ejects her own mother from the palace and takes the head of the palace guard as her lover. The two of them succeed in coming into possession of the crown and lead an army against Kirkor and his forces. Kirkor is killed and Balladyna becomes queen of Poland. At her coronation, she proceeds to poison her lover. Shortly thereafter, Balladyna, presiding over a court of justice, hears a complaint about the actions of a cruel daughter that is lodged by her own mother. Because the mother had become blind after her ejection from the palace, she is unaware of the identity of the new queen. Asked by the court to reveal the name of the offender, the mother declines to do so and is put on a rack. During the interrogation, the mother dies. The royal chancellor nevertheless insists that the queen still pass judgment on the wayward daughter. When Balladyna obliges and decrees a sentence of death, the heavens open up and she is instantly struck dead by lightning.

The setting for this five-act verse drama is in the area near Lake Gopło in western Poland, and the action takes place at a time before recorded Polish history. Hence, Słowacki is able to create a make-believe world in which folkloric and fairy-tale motifs abound. A nymph personifying Lake Gopło plays a prominent role in determining the course of the plot in the same way that supernatural beings interact with humans in William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (pr. c. 1595-1596, pb. 1600). Balladyna, moreover, is frequently referred to as the Polish Lady Macbeth. By combining elements from Shakespearean plays with Polish balladry and Slavic folklore, as well as with freely invented materials, Słowacki created a dramatic fantasy of perennial appeal. Ever since Balladyna was first produced at the Teatr Skarbka in the city of Lwów on March 7, 1862, this play has been one of the most popular works in the repertory of the Polish theater.

Lilla Weneda

As in Balladyna, the era of prehistory is the setting for the play called Lilla Weneda. Here Słowacki wrestles with the question of the origin of the Polish nobility, a historical problem that remains unresolved to this day. Up to the time of the partitions of Poland in the eighteenth century, all political power was vested in the nobility and the masses were totally disenfranchised. The Polish nobility, otherwise known as the szlachta, was a relatively large class and constituted approximately 10 percent of the population. They regarded themselves as the nation (naród) and believed that they had the moral right to exploit the people (lud). Many theories have been set forth over the years to account for the genesis of this strange form of national bifurcation. The view to which Słowacki subscribed held that the nobility in Poland are the descendants of foreign knights who invaded the region at some immemorial period of time. Słowacki had a highly critical attitude toward the nobility and regarded their self-indulgent behavior in the past as the principal cause of Poland’s loss of independence. Although he himself was technically a member of this social class, Słowacki did not come from a manor house, like Mickiewicz, nor did he bear a title, like Krasiński. Although both Mickiewicz and Krasiński wanted the nobility to dominate the political and cultural life of reconstituted Polish state, Słowacki advocated a social revolution that would give the people a greater stake in the cause of national restoration.

Słowacki, on the basis of his partiality for the people, imagines a war between a pure-hearted, peaceful Slavic population called the Wenedi and a group of ruthless foreign invaders called the Lechites. The Wenedi are ruled by the elderly King Derwid, and the Lechites are commanded by King Lech. The Wenedi believe that their chances of victory are good, since Derwid is known to be able to inspire his warriors, by playing on a magic harp, to perform feats of great valor. Just before the decisive battle is to take place, however, Derwid and his sons are captured by the forces of King Lech. Gwinona, Lech’s sadistic wife, orders Derwid to be tortured and blinded. Meanwhile, Derwid’s youngest daughter, Lilla Weneda, resolves to go to the Lechite encampment to make an attempt to obtain the release of her father and brothers. By virtue of her sweetness of character and her ability to overcome all the trials set for her by Gwinona and the Lechites, Lilla succeeds in winning freedom for her brothers but not for her father.

An opportunity to free Derwid arises when the Wenedi capture Lechon, the son of King Lech. The Lechites soon agree to Lilla’s proposal that Lechon be exchanged for Derwid. Noticing how anxious the Wenedian king is to hold on to his harp, Gwinona insists that it be left behind, and thus the father and daughter set out for home without the instrument. While the two are still on the way home, Lilla’s elder sister, Roza, receives a false report that her father and sister have been slain by the Lechites, and she responds impulsively by killing Lechon. Although happy over the release of their king, the Wenedi realize that they are doomed to defeat without the magic harp. Lilla thereupon returns to the camp of the Lechites, hoping to persuade them to return the harp. When it becomes known that Lechon is dead, Gwinona kills Lilla. The crucial battle between the opposing nations is then joined in earnest. The Wenedi are on the verge of losing the battle when a chest arrives that they believe contains the magic harp. Once it is opened, they discover that it contains Lilla’s corpse. On being told of the chest’s contents, Derwid is so overcome by grief that he kills himself immediately. Without king or harp, the Wenedi are quickly vanquished. All of Derwid’s sons die, and the sole survivor in his family is Roza. Derwid and Lilla, however, obtain a posthumous victory. Gwinona, by chance, comes on the site where the bodies of Derwid and Lilla are being cremated. On becoming aware of her presence, the black-robed Wenedians seize a number of adjacent burial urns and smother the hapless queen with the ashes of their ancestors. In the epic poem entitled Król-Duch, furthermore, Słowacki describes how Roza Weneda is subsequently impregnated with the ashes of her slain brothers and thereupon gives birth to the legendary Polish king of prehistory called Popiel (a name that means “ashes”).

The idea of a young woman trying to save her father from imprisonment was apparently inspired by Słowacki’s reading of Lord Byron’s Childe Harold (cantos 1 and 2, 1812; canto 3, 1816; canto 4, 1818). There are also Shakespearean overtones in the play because of the similarities between Derwid and King Lear. In addition, the influence of classical Greek drama is especially strong, since Słowacki introduces a chorus of harpers who express dire forebodings regarding the Polish nation and its future. His message is, however, not entirely pessimistic. It is true that the Lechites embody the vices of the nobility, including, in Słowacki’s own words, “a liking for shouting, dill pickles, and coats of arms.” The Wenedi, in contrast, represent Poland’s “angelic soul,” and it is from this source that, in the poet’s view, national redemption would eventually manifest itself.

Mazeppa

Unlike any of the characters in Lilla Weneda, Słowacki’s protagonist in Mazeppa is an authentic historical figure. Mazeppa was born in western Ukraine around 1644 to parents belonging to the native nobility. From about age fourteen to twenty, he served as a page at the court of the Polish king in Warsaw. This royal service was, however, terminated rather abruptly when Mazeppa made advances to a Polish nobleman’s wife. The irate nobleman is said to have ordered the youth to be strapped naked to the back of a wild horse and driven off in the direction of the steppes to die. Once having reached the steppes, Mazeppa was befriended by the Cossacks and eventually became their hetman. As hetman, he sought to promote the political objective of making Ukraine independent from either Polish or Russian control. This mission led him to enter into an ill-fated alliance with Charles XII of Sweden directed against his longtime friend Peter the Great. When the forces of the Russian czar inflicted a crushing defeat on the Swedes and their Cossack confederates at the Battle of Poltava (1709), Mazeppa was obliged to seek refuge in the province of Moldavia, controlled by Turkey, and died shortly thereafter. As the history of Ukraine is little known outside the area of Eastern Europe, whatever posthumous fame that Mazeppa has achieved elsewhere stems largely from a number of poems, paintings, and musical compositions created during the Romantic period. There is, for example, Byron’s narrative poem entitled Mazeppa (1819). What fascinated the English poet about Mazeppa was the legendary incident in which he was strapped naked on a wild horse and set off on a ride into the steppes as punishment for an illicit love affair. Byron’s poem, moreover, subsequently inspired the artists Théodore Géricault and Eugène Delacroix, as well as the composer Franz Liszt, to produce versions of the theme in their own respective media. Similarly inspired by Byron is Victor Hugo’s lyric poem “Mazeppa,” a work that is part of the collection of verse called Les Orientales (1829; English translation, 1879).

Słowacki’s verse drama on the Mazeppa theme, for its part, is radically different from any previous treatment of the subject. At the outset of the play, Mazeppa is depicted as a libertine courtier of the Polish king Jan Kazimierz, who ruled from 1648 to 1668. While on a visit to a nobleman’s castle, both Mazeppa and the king are strongly attracted by their host’s young wife, Amalia. She is the nobleman’s second wife, and her stepson, Zbigniew, is likewise infatuated with her. Although Amalia is not truly in love with her elderly husband, she is resolved to remain faithful to him. The nobleman, however, soon comes to suspect Mazeppa as his chief rival for Amalia’s affections. Because of a quarrel with the king, Mazeppa finds it necessary to hide in an alcove in Amalia’s private chambers. The nobleman, suspecting a romantic tryst between the couple, orders the alcove to be walled up even though his wife has assured him in good faith that no one is within it. Sometime later, the nobleman agrees to unseal the alcove after the king promises to turn over anyone within it to his host for further punishment. When Mazeppa emerges, Zbigniew impulsively challenges him to a duel in order to defend the family honor. Despondent over the notion that Amalia may have compromised herself with Mazeppa, however, Zbigniew decides to commit suicide rather than go through with the duel.

On learning of the death of her stepson, Amalia comes to a sudden realization that she herself has been repressing a deep love for Zbigniew ever since the time of her marriage to his father. Completely distraught, she too commits suicide. Once the nobleman becomes aware of the true state of affairs, he orders Mazeppa from his castle and then takes his own life in the throes of utter madness. Notwithstanding the tragic end that befalls the nobleman and his family, Słowacki’s play keeps its primary focus on the transformation of the protagonist’s character that occurs during the course of the action. Owing to the harrowing entombment that nearly cost him his life, Mazeppa has come to be purified of his former vices and has truly emerged as a new man who is now morally fit to lead his people’s struggle against the tyranny of Russian oppression as represented in the person of Czar Peter the Great. The parallel between Mazeppa’s entombment and Poland’s loss of independence is readily apparent to anyone attuned to the workings of the Polish national psyche.

Fantazy

The redemptive value of suffering that is underscored in Mazeppa is elevated to the level of Christian self-sacrifice and atonement in Słowacki’s tragicomedy Fantazy. This verse drama depicts the fortunes of the Polish nobility in the aftermath of the failure of the November Insurrection, and its action takes place in two manor houses located in Polish Ukraine around the year 1841. Count and Countess Respekt are the parents of two lovely daughters named Stella and Diana. The family is so much in need of money that the father and mother decide to sell Diana for a large sum of money to a wealthy neighbor, Count Fantazy Dafnicki. Fantazy is somewhat older than Diana and seems to look on the forthcoming marriage as a means of relieving his boredom. Diana, for her part, is highly vocal in her opposition to the union, but this only makes Fantazy all the more eager. To complicate matters, Fantazy’s former sweetheart, Countess Idalia, arrives on the scene in order to prevent his marriage to Diana. Many critics believe that Słowacki modeled Fantazy after Zygmunt Krasiński and Idalia after Joanna Bobrowa, both friends of his at the time that the play was being written.

At this juncture, the Count and Countess Respekt receive an unexpected visit from an elderly Russian major and his orderly. The major had befriended the Respekt family when they were sent into Siberian exile as a precautionary measure during the November Insurrection. His orderly, Jan, turns out to be a former lover of Diana who is now impressed into military service as a punishment for past revolutionary activities. The major wishes to help the orderly and Diana to marry, and he therefore challenges Fantazy to a game of cards for very high stakes: The loser must commit suicide. Fantazy loses, and when he prepares to poison himself in a cemetery, Idalia insists on dying with him in true Romantic fashion. The major, however, is too kindhearted to permit Fantazy and Idalia to kill themselves and obligingly shoots himself. This act resolves the situation for all concerned, since the major leaves his considerable estate to be divided between his orderly and the Respekt family. Thus Diana and Jan are free to marry. Through the noble act of the major, Fantazy has come to see the folly of his ways and plans to make a religious pilgrimage to Rome. Idalia hints that she may join him there.

The major’s self-sacrifice is not simply the deed of a person who has grown tired of life, but an act of atonement for his immoral involvement in the suppression of the Decembrist revolt back in 1825. He now sees an opportunity to give meaning to his purposeless existence by helping Jan and Diana out of their predicament. The uprighteousness of the major’s character is further reflected in the simplicity of his speech—a peculiar mixture of Russian, Ukrainian, and Polish phrases. All other major characters, except for Jan, speak in a florid, convoluted manner replete with gratuitous references to classical mythology, and there is great humor in Słowacki’s linguistic parody of pseudo-Romanticism. Beneath his satire on the Polish nobility, however, lies the genuine tragedy of Poland’s loss of national independence. In terms of the play’s religious dimensions, many critics detect the influence of Calderón and contend that the major acts in the same spirit of Christian self-sacrifice as does the protagonist in the Spanish playwright’s The Constant Prince. Calderón’s influence is even more apparent in two subsequently written plays. Both Ksiądz Marek (Father Mark) and Sen srebrny Salomei (the silver dream of Salomea) contain a strong element of Spanish mysticism despite the fact that each of these dramas is set in Polish Ukraine. Słowacki’s interest in Calderón’s plays was, it should be noted, fostered by Andrzej Towiański at the time when the poet was a member of the religious prophet’s inner circle.

Bibliography

Babinski, Hubert F. The Mazeppa Legend in European Romanticism. New York: Columbia University Press, 1974. The Mazeppa legend as it appeared in the works of Słowacki and others is analyzed.

Dernalowicz, Maria. Juliusz Słowacki. Warsaw, Poland: Interpress, 1987. A short biographical study of the poet’s life and work. Includes an index.

Kridl, Manfred. The Lyric Poems of Julius Słowacki. The Hague, the Netherlands: Mouton, 1958. A critical assessment of the poetic works of Słowacki. Includes bibliographic references.

Kridl, Manfred. A Survey of Polish Literature and Culture. New York: Columbia University Press, 1956. Provides some historical and cultural backgroung to Słowacki’s poetry. Includes bibliographic references.

Krzyżanowski, Julian. A History of Polish Literature. Warszawa: PWN-Polish Scientific Publishers, 1978. A study of Polish literature that includes coverage of Słowacki. Bibliography and index.

Miłosz, Czesław. The History of Polish Literature. 2d ed. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983. A scholarly study of Polish literature that includes a discussion of the role of Słowacki. Bibliography and index.

Treugutt, Stefan. Juliusz Słowacki: Romantic Poet. Warsaw, Poland: Polonia, 1959. A critical analysis of Słowacki’s poetic works.