Kyrie Eleison

On The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Jan 06, 2024

The Hunchback of Notre Dame released in theaters on June 21, 1996. I don’t know where I was at this time. But I know where I was not—on earth. Yet, as I saw it for the first time on my mobile phone while sitting in a physics laboratory twenty-seven years later, I could not help but wonder what wonder it meant to parents and children as they sat in a large, dark room, with a wide screen and booming speakers. It must have been glorious: beginning with Paul Kandel’s sonorous Clopin’s musical storytelling; letting us know about the bells of Notre Dame.

While still enchanted by how Clopin takes the kids—and ourselves—into the world of Notre Dame, we immediately see corruption in a mortal form–in the form of Judge Claude Frollo (voiced by Tony Jay). And one gets the feeling that as much as this story is about Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame, Claude Frollo sits at the centre of it all. Quasimodo helps him shine and nothing more. Everything points to Frollo, not as a protagonist to be admired; neither an antagonist to be detested; nor is he a foil to the noble hearts of Quasimodo, Esmeralda, and Phoebus. These things he may be. But were you to settle with that, you would have missed the point. What he is, is an object for our diagnosis; a mirror for us to check the state of our own hearts. As Clopin’s words go “ Judge Claude Frollo longed to purge the world of vice and sin/And he saw corruption everywhere except within.”

Now this is what makes Judge Frollo interesting—except of course, we exclude Tony Jay’s rich baritone. That a man who prized righteousness so much failed to see that he was the least righteous of men. He went about purging the world of vice and sin by any means possible; killing innocent gypsies, incarcerating others, attempting to drown babies, with a heart fully convinced of his own righteousness. It is this manner of evil disguised as good that makes him interesting. It is what makes Quasimodo fade in comparison to him as an interesting character; not that Quasimodo is an uninteresting character. Rather, he packs less complexity than his adoptive father.

The entire movie is a masterpiece. A masterpiece so well-done in the art of moral sciences that many still wonder today if it is appropriate for kids. And the facts seem to bellow this idea: it opens with the death of a woman, features strong passions and lusts, makes a big deal of sin and judgment, and word on the street says that the producers added the gargoyles very late on to make the movie kids friendly and provide some comic relief. All these testify to the quality thereof. Amusingly, some who saw it as children now see or remember this movie with wide eyes of disbelief that they were exposed to such moral genius at such an age. Some also hilariously wonder how parents felt as they sat with their children in cinemas listening to the crescendo music Hellfire, a song of lament by Judge Frollo himself as he reached the summit of his battle with lust. Such a defining moment for which there was no point of return.

Of the sixteen songs this movie features, none strikes the human soul like Hellfire. And none of the sixteen paints a portrait of our character of interest like this one. The four-minute rendition which loops off the Confiteor, a prayer in Latin, featured a self-acknowledged virtuous man facing the problem of sin he was battling in his body. Having been struck by Esmeralda’s exotic beauty, Judge Frollo, for the first time since being convicted by the eyes of Notre Dame, acknowledged guilt in his body. But then again, his prayer-song—which starts with a plea to Holy Mary—starts with that Pharisaic attitude Jesus condemned in Luke 18:10. In Frollo’s exact words:

Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man
Of my virtue I am justly proud
Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than
The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

This pride becomes what makes Minister Frollo's guilt a bigger deal. Because he cannot believe that a virtuous man such as himself would ever suffer such baseness.

As I stated earlier, this song lets us see what Judge Frollo is—a man. And so the comments proceeded for decades: Judge Frollo is an interesting character and villain because he is neither a wizard, a warlord, nor a physically grotesque monster. He is interesting because he is a man. He terrifies us, for of all things he could be, he is the one thing we all are: a human being.

But he would not be the first to be struck with lust. We can argue that lust is a natural disposition to us all. However, Judge Frollo knows something which makes this disposition a bad thing to harbour in one’s body. He knows sin, and God’s law. Somewhere within him, he desires righteousness. Yet, somewhere deeper within him, he has convinced himself that he is already a righteous man. Unfortunately, this combination of ingredients concocted a living hell for him as he made pleas and petitions to Mary and God the Father while standing in front of the fireplace.

Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there?
Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?
I feel her, I see her
The sun caught in her raven hair
Is blazing in me out of all control

Having acknowledged the locomotion of sin in his body, he stood at the crossroads. Choose purity or indulge lust. As simple as the choice to be made looks, one thing stands out to me. That whichever road he took would close the door behind him. Because while the first flickers of the flame of desire are non-voluntary, the choice to forsake or indulge the vice is willful. So Frollo confronted the moment when he had to make a clear choice.

He acknowledges that he is struck with sin:

Like fire
Hellfire
This fire in my skin
This burning desire
Is turning me to sin

But he thinks he has little to do with it. He puts a distance between himself and his desires. He blames everyone and everything—Esmeralda, Satan, and God—but himself. This is the tune of every man blinded by sin and pride:

It's not my fault
I'm not to blame
It is the gypsy girl the witch who sent this flame
It's not my fault
If in God's plan
He made the Devil so much stronger than a man

But then for a moment, he realises he needs help. And comes close to repentance:

Protect me, Maria
Don't let this siren cast her spell
Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone

However, his repentance takes the form of blaming “the witch who sent this flame,” and he seeks her destruction:

Destroy Esmeralda
And let her taste the fires of hell
Or else let her be mine and mine alone

Now we see that he has made a choice. Either he satisfies his lust or she burns:

Hellfire
Darkfire
Now gypsy, it's your turn
Choose me or your pyre
Be mine or you will burn

Still, the wick of his conscience lights with a dying amber as chants of Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy) fill the background. But Minister Frollo asks for mercy in the frame of a man who is walking into his sin. He requests for mercy for himself and his victim. He has made his choice. The deal is done:

Kyrie Eleison
God have mercy on her
Kyrie Eleison
God have mercy on me
Kyrie Eleison
But she will be mine
Or she will burn

This is the story of man, from Eden until now, summarising our battle with not only lust but wrongdoing in the face of our defiant righteousness. And it is no coincidence—as any keen and introspective observer knows—that those who most profess their compassion are themselves Satan’s hammer for administering cruelty on their beneficiaries the instant they (the beneficiaries) shake off the objectifying notions of these omnipotent moral busybodies.

It is still much more common that moral busybodies—of whom Judge Frollo is archetype—are the type who oppress us for our own sakes. And what is most common in this category is that we are adept at pointing our fingers at the corruption in the world except within. For what it is worth, and I fear it is true, you are as much a kin to Frollo than you are to Quasimodo. Yet, not without redemption.

In all these moral accusations and this mirror I have brought before you, the solution is neither far nor is it complex. It is the one thing that Judge Claude Frollo failed to do—to check the corruption within. To introspect. For it is only by looking inwards, not measuring yourself by either the tax collector or the “common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd”, that you can say “Kyrie eleison.” Not with the vermin cheapness that Frollo utters it with. But with the heaviness that curtails your step and sponsors true compassion.

Watch the full song and get back to me