Death in Venice

During his fourth week at the hotel, Aschenbach observes that there are fewer and fewer guests even though the season should be far from over. The German guests in particular seem to be absent, and speaking with the hotel barber, Aschenbach learns that one family left almost as soon as they arrived. The barber praises Aschenbach for being unafraid of “the plague,” which Aschenbach does not yet know is an outbreak of Indian cholera that the municipal government is attempting to conceal from tourists. Aschenbach is taken aback and tries to question the barber, but the man is deeply embarrassed, denies everything, and determinedly changes the subject.

That afternoon, Aschenbach stalks the Polish family on an excursion into Venice as per his new habit of attempting to follow Tadzio everywhere. He doesn’t find them, but he does smell the sickly-sweet scent of antiseptic and sickness, particularly in the narrower streets of the city. He notices municipal posters, surrounded by silent groups of citizens, warning with careful euphemisms of the dangers that gastrointestinal diseases can pose during this season. The posters warn against the waters of the canals and against eating shellfish. Aschenbach asks a local shopkeeper about the smell of disinfectant but receives only insincere reassurances that it’s an ordinary police precaution to prevent the warm summer sirocco from causing illness.

Aschenbach reads the hotel’s selection of foreign newspapers, noting that the German press contains information on rumors of illness in Venice along with doubts as to the truthfulness of official denials that anything is amiss. Newspapers in other languages seem not to be privy to the same information, and the Venetian government is doing its utmost to hush up reports of illness, which explains why it is primarily the German tourists who are leaving the city. Although angry at the incomplete information and duplicity, Aschenbach is darkly satisfied that such extraordinary circumstances as those conditioned by an epidemic could be more suitable a backdrop for his illicit passions than mundane order and civilization. He only fears that Tadzio and his family might leave since Aschenbach does not believe that he can live without Tadzio.

Aschenbach goes to great lengths to spend as much time watching Tadzio as possible, including following the Polish family on their weekly excursions to attend mass, stalking them through the streets, and paying a gondolier to follow them discretely when they travel by boat. Aschenbach feels drunk on his obsession with Tadzio and feels encouraged in his pursuit by the fact that the city is diseased and concealing it out of greed. Loneliness sees him indulging shamelessly in his obsession, going so far as to lurk outside Tadzio’s door at the hotel with his forehead pressed to the wood, despite the deeply embarrassing threat of discovery. He occasionally regains his rationality for a moment and wonders at his behavior, imagining that his ancestors would judge his current behavior abhorrent. He’s always assumed that his paternal ancestors would respect that he applies the same values of discipline and diligence to his work despite being an artist rather than an official or statesman like them, but thinks they would despise him now. He wonders if there’s heroism in submitting to his desires since lovers are commonly admired for submitting to self-abnegating displays that would be shameful under different circumstances. His thoughts are dominated and guided by his infatuation as he keeps abreast of the growing lawlessness in Venice with calculating interest. Newspapers are no longer provided by the hotel, so Aschenbach seeks them out in local cafes. He enjoys piecing together the truth from the mix of rumors and denials and asks awkward questions of the locals so that they are forced to lie outright or risk disobeying orders to keep tourists in the dark.

A group of singers arrive at the hotel that evening and perform for the guests in the garden. The Russian family is particularly delighted to establish themselves near the performers, whose leader is an insolent guitar player with red hair, a foreign complexion, and an aura of danger. The leader’s comedic pantomimes evoke raucous laughter from the crowd, and the more they laugh, the bolder he gets. Tadzio stands nearby leaning on a railing, and Aschenbach watches the performance with enjoyment, though he’d ordinarily disdain such amusements. Aschenbach doesn’t dare stare at Tadzio, though Tadzio keeps glancing back at him, because he fears Tadzio’s female relatives are aware of his excessive interest in the boy. The women guard Tadzio now and keep calling him away from Aschenbach’s vicinity, which tortures Aschenbach’s pride.

After the show is over, the singer walks among the audience to collect payment, cringing and humble as though to compensate for making them uncomfortable with his presence. He’d paid particular attention to Aschenbach during his final song and smells strongly of disinfectant as he approaches. Aschenbach asks him about the plague, but the singer denies everything. The performers leave to applause and merriment, singing a final song with a laughing refrain that seems directed at the audience. Aschenbach makes eye contact with Tadzio and realizes that they are the only two somber members of the audience. Aschenbach thinks that Tadzio’s delicate constitution means the boy is unlikely to live long enough to grow old, which is gratifying to him. Aschenbach stays on the terrace long after the rest of the guests depart.

The following day he is finally able to learn detailed information about the plague from an English travel agent. The Englishman informs him that Indian cholera has been brought by maritime trade routes to several ports in the Mediterranean, including Venice. The disease has an 80% mortality rate and primarily kills through dehydration, and its spread has been exacerbated by the early summer heat. The food supply in the city has likely already been infected, the plague houses and orphanages are full, and there’s much traffic between the city and the island on which its dead are buried. Officials are trying to keep the truth under wraps so as not to negatively impact the tourist trade, but the number of deaths is mounting, and it is only a matter of time before the city is put into quarantine. Locals are deeply demoralized by the failures and corruption of their government, and given the staggering death toll, law and order are already starting to break down. The Englishman advises Aschenbach to leave the city as soon as possible. Contemplating in a city square, Aschenbach is both excited and horrified to have finally discovered the truth. He knows that he could absolve himself of all wrongdoing by approaching Tadzio’s mother at dinner and imploring her to flee with her family from the threat of cholera. Aschenbach already knows that he will not do this because he values getting to see Tadzio more than anything else. He feels repugnance and intoxication with his complicity in the city’s corruption and deception, hoping despite himself that chaos in the city might afford him some nebulous opportunities to get closer to Tadzio. That night he has a vivid and disturbing dream of a wild bacchanal orgy in which horned men and boys with goats wailed out Tadzio’s name, and Aschenbach felt himself succumb entirely to sensuality. Over the following days many other tourists leave, and soon the hotel is practically deserted. Tadzio and his family are some of the very few who stay.

Like any lover, Aschenbach wishes he could be attractive to the object of his affection. He finds himself despising the signs of his age now that he feels a renewed youthfulness. He spends a lot of time dressing himself in flamboyant fashions and consents to let the hotel barber apply a regime of dyes and cosmetics to make him look younger. He continues his habit of stalking Tadzio through the city despite feeling exhausted by the effort of subterfuge. At one point, Tadzio notices him in pursuit but does not decry him to his family. Aschenbach loses sight of them and, overcome by fatigue and the heat, eats overripe strawberries from a street vendor. A feeling of dizziness and unreality descends on Aschenbach, and he addresses Tadzio again as Phaedrus, pontificating on beauty as the supreme manifestation of the divine.

A few days later, Aschenbach is feeling distinctly unwell. As he leaves the hotel later in the morning than usual, he sees a large pile of luggage in the lobby and discovers that Tadzio and his family are planning to leave that afternoon. The beach is no longer as busy and well-cared-for as it was when Aschenbach arrived in Venice. Only a handful of companions remain with Tadzio, and their games are unsupervised today. Tadzio’s companion Jaschu is angered by a handful of sand thrown in his face and takes out his frustrations in a wrestling match against Tadzio. Jaschu defeats Tadzio, but instead of letting him up, he kneels on Tadzio’s back and rubs his face in the sand until Aschenbach fears the boy will suffocate. Just as Aschenbach is about to rise in fury and intervene, Jaschu relents and releases his victim. Once he has recovered his breath Tadzio storms away from the other children and wades into the shallow water gazing moodily out to sea. As Aschenbach watches, slumped in his seat, Tadzio looks back toward him. Aschenbach feels as though Tadzio is calling and gesturing for Aschenbach to join him. He rises to follow and collapses back onto his chair. Some minutes pass before anyone hurries to tend to him. He dies in his hotel room later that day.