Death in Venice

On his voyage to Venice, Aschenbach seeks rest for his ailing health. At the ship's arrival, an importunate older man with heavy makeup approaches him with suggestive gestures, which he rebuffs with indignation. The awkward encounter foreshadows the unsettling allure he will encounter in Venice.

Aschenbach takes quarters at the beachside Grand Hotel des Bains on the Venice Lido, seeking quiet and reclusion for his health. He settles in and contemplates the purpose of his stay. The serene surroundings promise restorative ease as he settles in.

While waiting for dinner in the lobby, he notices a group of young Poles with their governess and mother. He is spellbound by Tadzio, whose appearance and casual demeanor distinguish him from his sisters. The boy's presence awakens a powerful, unarticulated longing in Aschenbach.

Aschenbach recalls a heated conversation with his friend and student Alfred about whether beauty is created or natural, and whether natural beauty can surpass art. The dialogue lingers as he contemplates the source and supremacy of beauty. The debate sharpens his inward preoccupation with Tadzio's radiance.

In the days that follow, Aschenbach watches Tadzio as he plays and swims, the boy's effortless grace captivating his attention. The scenes of play become a continuous source of fascination and artistic fuel for him. He begins to imagine the boy as a living muse.

Aschenbach manages to come close to Tadzio in the hotel's elevator, and the boy casts a seductive glance as he exits. The moment intensifies the growing tension between observer and observed. It reinforces his fixation and sense of transgressive attraction.

Returning to his room in an agitated state, Aschenbach recalls Alfred's criticisms and hesitantly decides to leave Venice. The pull of the city and the boy complicates his sense of duty and health. He vacillates between departure and lingering desire.

Before he can depart, his luggage is misplaced at the train station, yet he feels secretly relieved at the prospect of returning to the hotel to remain near Tadzio. The misfortune becomes a small consolation in the face of temptation. He chooses to stay despite the planned exit.

In the station concourse, an emaciated man collapses; Aschenbach's impulse to intervene is dismissed by the hotel manager, who speaks of exaggerated scandals in the foreign press. The encounter reveals a world indifferent to suffering and heightens Aschenbach's sense of impending doom. The authorities' cynicism intensifies his inward crisis.

Aschenbach embraces Tadzio as an artistic muse, yet he cannot master his passion. He frequently retreats into daydreams of the unattainable boy, letting fantasies replace steady perception. The line between beauty and obsession blurs as time passes.

A travel agent on Saint Mark's Square hesitantly reports that a cholera epidemic is sweeping through Venice, grabbing Aschenbach's attention. He fantasizes about warning Tadzio's mother and stroking the boy's head, turning concern into possessive fantasy. The looming danger intensifies the tension of his fixation.

Aschenbach follows Tadzio and his family to St Mark's Basilica, where he observes the boy praying. Although they never converse, Tadzio notices he is being watched and sometimes returns his glances. The scene deepens the sense of a forbidden, unspoken connection.

A chatty barber gives Aschenbach a makeover, altering his appearance so he resembles the intrusive old man who first accosted him. The transformation reflects how beauty and identity can be reshaped by perception. It underscores the susceptibility of the observer to change the world around him.

Aschenbach continues to pursue the family and then collapses near a well, breaking into a pained laughter. The episode marks the erosion of control as his fixation intensifies. The line between passion and folly becomes dangerously thin.

With the family preparing to depart, he goes to the nearly-deserted beach and watches Tadzio's game with another boy deteriorate into a wrestle. Tadzio wades into the sea as Mahler's Adagietto fills the air, looks toward the dying Aschenbach, and raises his arm as if guiding him away. Aschenbach collapses in his deck chair and dies, completing the tragedy of desire and art.