44 pages • 1 hour read
William GoldmanThe Princess Bride
Fiction | Novel | YA | Published in 1973A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Symbols & Motifs
The Zoo of Death
Prince Humperdinck’s Zoo of Death is one major plot element that was withheld from The Princess Bride film. Prince Humperdinck refers to it as an “animal sanctuary,” but, in reality, it’s closer to a slaughterhouse; animals are brought in from all over the world for the express purpose of being killed for entertainment and personal validation. He approaches construction of his Zoo in a manner consistent with The Pursuit of Art, devoting different floors to different skill sets and arranging it to present the most satisfying possible challenges. The Zoo has much in common with Count Rugen’s Machine, being a complex creation designed to maximize and perfect its owner’s artistic practice.
One of the Zoo’s distinctive features is its empty fifth floor: “The Prince constructed it in the hopes of someday finding something worthy, something as dangerous and fierce and powerful as he was” (55). In reality, the prince wants the fifth floor to remain empty, affirming him as the most powerful being in existence. He uses the empty level as a mechanism to assure himself of his own strength, skills, and prowess; it symbolizes both his vanity and his insecurity.
Later, the Zoo of Death serves as an arena to showcase Inigo and Fezzik’s individual strengths. Fezzik uses his strength to defeat the murderous snake, and Inigo draws on all his training to duel with a swarm of bats. In each of these moments, the Zoo of Death becomes a way for characters to challenge themselves to the ultimate limits of their abilities. What originally represents the prince’s false sense of power ends up being the platform through which two of the heroes realize their own true strength.
Blood
Blood is a recurring motif that symbolizes adversity, instinct, and vengeance. Its first major appearance is when the three criminals capture Buttercup and she escapes into the sea. Vizzini uses the threat of sharks to entice Buttercup back into the boat, and when that isn’t enough, he uses his own blood to turn the conflict in his favor: “[I]f you don’t come back I’ll cut my arms and I’ll cut my legs and I’ll catch the blood in a cup and I’ll fling it as far as I can and sharks can smell blood in the water for miles and you won’t be beautiful for long” (79). Buttercup and Westley encounter a similar problem with the giant rats in the fire swamp: “They’re like sharks, blood creatures; it’s blood they thrive on” (153). Like Vizzini, Westley finds a way to use this hunger to his advantage. Since the rats are not particular about whom they’re devouring, Westley draws blood from one of the rats to lure the others away. In these moments, blood becomes a tool.
This utilitarianism is subverted when blood becomes a symbol of passionate vengeance to Inigo, both in his first encounter with the Count and his last. When they face each other for the first time, Inigo is marked by blood and by a new, all-consuming objective: “Two rivers of blood poured from his forehead to his chin, one crossing each cheek. Everyone watching knew it then: the boy was scarred for life” (98). Blood becomes a kind of baptismal substance that divides Inigo’s life into a before and an after. When he meets the Count a second time, he is badly wounded. Yet rather than being weakened by blood loss, he draws strength from it and uses that strength to overcome his enemy. Inigo then returns his wounds to the Count in the same order as they were delivered to him. At the completion of Inigo’s vengeance, the Count’s blood becomes a symbol of the full, circular journey they both have taken.
The Six-Fingered Sword
Inigo’s six-fingered sword is, at its inception, an expression of artistic creation. It is the culmination of all Domingo Montoya’s expertise as a sword maker. Prior to the Count’s commission, Domingo refuses to label himself as an artist because he feels he hasn’t yet been challenged enough or created anything truly worthy of the title. However, Count Rugen’s request presents a truly unique opportunity to go from a master craftsman to an artist. Much like the stereotypical artist, Domingo swings between arrogance and self-loathing as he spends a grueling year trying to create something that will satisfy his need for greatness. Once completed, the six-fingered sword seals both Domingo’s and the Count’s fates, changing Inigo’s life forever.
At this point, the six-fingered sword becomes a symbol of Inigo himself, his father’s craft, and his pursuit of vengeance. When Inigo returns home after a decade of training, his old family friend doesn’t recognize him until he presents the six-fingered sword: “‘I have my weapon,’ the Spaniard said. And he threw the six-fingered sword across Yeste’s workbench” (99). Yeste doesn’t immediately recognize Inigo, but he recognizes the sword because it is unique.
The irony is that the six-fingered sword is not the perfect weapon for Inigo. When Domingo learns of the Count’s extra finger, he recognizes the obstacles it poses:
[T]he balance of the sword is wrong for you because every balance has been conceived of for five. The grip of every handle cramps you, because it has been built for five. For an ordinary swordsman it would not matter, but a great swordsman, a master, would have eventual discomfort. And the greatest swordsman in the world must always be at ease (94).
All these elements are true in Inigo’s case, only in reverse. The weapon that Inigo keeps with him at all times is actually a handicap. If he wanted, Inigo could trade it for a sword that properly fits his grip and his movements. However, he holds on to this sword because it reminds him of where he came from and, most importantly, what he is fighting for.
