Oh, Snappeth

Then-contemporary criticism lobbied against Purcell’s Dioclesian/The Prophetess (1690):

“How ridiculous is it in that Scene in the Prophetess, where the great Action of the Drama stops, and the chief Officers of the Army stand still with their Swords drawn to hear a Fellow Sing ‘Let the soldiers rejoice’ – faith in my mind ’tis as unreasonable as if a Man shou’d call for a Pipe of Tobacco just when the Priest and his Bride are waiting for him at the Altar.”

The assessment actually holds up pretty well to my ears as I Spotify’d the skit out of Dioclesian this rainy, post-VD morning. The music starts off strongly, a blend of cynicism and bombast, over the course of several overtures and instrumental preludes spent curled up on the sofa with a warm blanket and…Christ, where’s my French press?

Perhaps the slow pace is deliberate. Curtis Price writes that “the subdued music perfectly captures the idea of ‘the king is dead, long live the king,’” which is allegorical enough for the plot (summed up below). There are touches of Macbeth-ian irony in fates bound in riddles, with Diocles (later to rechristen himself Diocletian) is told he’ll become the next Roman emperor after killing a boar. That boar turns out to be the nickname of the assassin he quickly does kill.

But the dramatic shortcomings of Dioclesian come from the fact that it’s a semi-opera, told episodically and with less of a unifying arc than Purcell’s previous work, Dido and Aeneas. There are similar musical threads—Dido’s chorus “Fear no danger to ensue” is reflected here in “Let all mankind the pleasure share,” and both make use of the chaconne. This reminds me of one of those early, B-list Disney movies. Essential for the development of animation, but not something you’d watch for a riveting Friday night movie.