Hello! I’m the Ring from Wagner’s The Ring of the Nibelung. Four operas named after me and I still haven’t got my own Facebook page! But that will change with this blog post: the story of my life.
Trouble in River City
Picture an innocent young nugget of gold, chilling in the Rhine with her sister nuggets. The Rhine maidens are singing about how pretty we are when along comes an ugly dwarf named Alberich. “Hey, girls, have sex with me,” he sings. “As if!” sing the Rhine maidens, scathingly.
Oh no! Alberich has stolen me! And now I’m in Nibelheim, home of the dwarfs, where you can’t hear yourself think for the anvils. I’ve been separated from my sister nuggets and Alberich is forcing his brother, Mime, to heat me up and beat me with a hammer. Ow! Ow! Ow!
I’m the Ring!
I’m gorgeous! I’m magical! Alberich wants me, Mime wants me! And here comes Wotan, one-eyed ruler of the gods. Will he want me too?
Stolen again! Alberich has put a curse on me and now some chick is warning Wotan to ditch me. Reluctantly, he gives me to the two giants who’ve just built a palace for him.
As the curse takes effect, one of the giants murders the other. Undeterred by this fratricide, Wotan and the other gods step over his body and walk into their new palace, Valhalla.
The Rhine maidens sing a lament for me. “Rheingold! Rheingold!” It’s catchy in a depressing sort of way.
Flying chicks
Now I’m in a cave with the murderous giant. He’s turned himself into a dragon, which fits, because this opera does “drag on.” Like, right now what you’re seeing is a bunch of chicks flying around on winged horses. I ask you, is that plausible?
The chicks are the Valkyries, fathered by Wotan with quite a few women who aren’t Mrs. Wotan. She now appears and tells Wotan that he should stop draggin’ (see what I did there?) her heart around. She also points out that his plot to get me back involves incest and adultery and won’t work anyway.
Wotan glums off to undo his plot with the help of his favorite Valkyrie, Brunnhilde. But she disobeys him, so he punishes her by putting her to sleep on a mountain surrounded by magic fire.
More lamenting by the Rhine maidens.
No tongue
In a forest near the dragon’s cave, Siegfried, 17-year-old son of the incestuous couple from the previous opera that I decided not to tell you about, is mending a broken sword with fire and, since this is an opera, also singing to it.
The sword’s name, Nothung, is pronounced “no tongue,” so Siegfried comes across as a kid with a pathological fear of French kissing.
And now he’s approaching my cave, together with Mime, who forged me back in the first opera and, like Wotan, has been plotting to get me back. Everybody wants to be my baby! Mime’s cunning plan: Siegfried will kill the dragon and then he, Mime, will kill Siegfried.
On top of Old Smoky
Leaving Mime and the dragon dead, Siegs strides off with me on his finger. A bird leads him to Brunnhilde’s mountain, and since the young chump is fearless, he walks straight through the magic fire.
At first he thinks Brunnhilde’s a dude. Then he takes off her armor and sees his first pair of breasts. He sings very excitedly about this, and Brunnhilde, once she wakes up, joins him in song. She’s relieved that the guy who’s wakened her has a decent tenor voice, although he is a bit of a doofus.
Rhine maidens lamenting, etc.
Twilight approaches
It’s time for the last opera, Götterdämmerung, the twilight of the gods, and not an aria too soon.
After months of increasingly expert shagging — trust me, I had a “ring”-side view — Siegs leaves me on Brunnhilde’s finger and sets off to earn his hero billing. He travels down the Rhine, generating lots of positive publicity, until he meets the Gibichung family and Alberich’s son, Hagen-Dazs, who is, of course, plotting to get me.
Siegs gets drugged, Brunnie gets kidnapped, and I’m stolen AGAIN, this time by Siegs pretending to be a Gibichung. On a hunting trip, Hagen-Dazs stabs Siegs in the back, but when he tries to take me off Sieg’s finger — did I mention I’m back on his finger? — the dead hero’s arm rises up, and Hagen-Dazs takes that as a “no.”
Bonfire night
Brunnhilde has now been singing in German for three straight operas. She’s had enough. As Valhalla burns and Siegfried’s funeral pyre is set alight, she rides her magic horse into the flames, telling the Rhine maidens that they can quit their kvetching, I’m on my way.
Through the fire. Ow! Ow! Ow!
Water! Ah, that’s better. Hey there, Rhine maidens!
P.S.
Want to know what Siegs and Brunnie got up to on the magic mountain? With videos? Send $19.99 to The Ring, care of The Rhine Maidens, River Rhine, Germany. Don’t forget your self-addressed stamped envelope.
