Song of my soul, my voice is dead,
Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa.
Robert W. Chamber’s anthology “The King in Yellow” consists of several vignettes bound together by a fictional play of the same title. This play leaves readers changed, forming an obsession that leads to madness, irrationality, and purpose. More than this, though, the forbidden knowledge within leads those affected to disregard morality and societal norms.
In the first story, “The Repairer of Reputations,” Hildred Castaigne becomes infatuated with the idea that he is the promised King of the United States after a head injury, a stay in an asylum, and reading the play. His conviction leads him to threaten his cousin, Louis, and his lover, Cassilda, with death. Hildred’s obsession with the play and the idea of being a king leads him to commit heinous acts in the name of his delusion. Twisted by the allure of power and the promise of a new world, Hildred’s conviction makes him a dangerous figure, willing to go to any lengths to achieve his goals.
The second story, “The Mask,” explores The King in Yellow in an academic setting. Boris, a renouned sculptor, Geneviève, his wife, and Alec, a painter, are drawn together by Boris’s discovery of a mysterious, petrifying liquid. With Boris and Alec having read the play, they become obsessed with the perfection created by the liquid. The love triangle between the three characters, previously amicable, becomes strained as an illness befalls Boris and Geneviève.
In both stories, the play serves as a catalyst: a vision that cannot be denied, and a purpose that cannot be ignored. What knowledge does it hold? I am as drawn to it as the characters. As described by Hildred:
The very banality and innocence of the first act only allowed the blow to fall afterwards with more awful effect.
The play’s revelation, then, is predicated on the its first act. The mundane story, it seems, is torn apart by the second act. The first act is a lie, a mask that hides the truth. The second act reveals the truth, and it is terrifying. Only those who have read this act are truly changed, imbued with a terrible purpose.
Many readers do not make it to the second act. The first act, the mask, is enough. Its blissfull ignorance is a comfort, and these readers are content never to know the second. Even a brief glimpse of the truths within this act are enough to draw the reader in - one truth leads to an insatiable thirst for more.
Now, what is this truth? What is contained within? You can read anything you want into the pay, but my favorite interpretation is that the second act reveals the futility of existence. The play is a metaphor for the human condition, its first act in blissful ignorance. The second act, then, is the revelation that nothing matters. The characters’ lives are meaningless, and they desperately cling to any illusion of purpose. Hildred spins a delusion of grandeur. Boris and Alec are consumed by unrequited love, jealousy, and a perfecting obsession for their art. They all grasp at the straws of meaning, but they are ultimately left empty.
What adds to their madness is their burden. They are tasked to carry the weight of their knowledge, to observe the masses go about their lives, blissfully unaware of the truth.
I’d like to think that the play is a warning. A warning against the dangers of obsession, the futility of existence, and the madness that can come from seeking forbidden knowledge. But I have read that page, those opening words to the second act. Now, it is my turn to be drawn in, to thrash at a semblance of direction.
I leave you with another quote from the play, a warning to those who would seek the truth:
Camilla: You, sir, should unmask.
Stranger: Indeed?
Cassilda: Indeed it's time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.
Stranger: I wear no mask.
Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda) No mask? No mask!