zellephantom

Yikes! It's been a while... I can never seem to keep posting consistently here, and I seem to be always apologizing for the fact, but maybe this time I'll manage it. Speaking of managing, back to the managers slowly going insane!

{The time passed, slow, heavy, mysterious, stifling. Richard tried to laugh.

"I shall end by believing in the omnipotence of the ghost," he said. "Just now, don't you find something uncomfortable, disquieting, alarming in the atmosphere of this room?"}

The only strange, odd, and bizarre thing here is the number of synonyms being used in one sentence. Did Richard recently acquire a thesaurus and couldn't resist showing it off?

{"Of course, as you said, we can't be robbed without noticing it."}

Are you entirely sure of that? (I'd imagine Erik would probably enjoy the irony...)

{Richard tore off his coat. The two managers turned the pocket inside out. THE POCKET WAS EMPTY. And the curious thing was that the pin remained, stuck in the same place.

Richard and Moncharmin turned pale. There was no longer any doubt about the witchcraft.}

So shall we place an order for pitchforks and torches, then?

{"What do you mean, she has to be found? Has she disappeared?"

"In the middle of the performance!"

"In the middle of the performance? This is extraordinary!"

"Isn't it? And what is quite as extraordinary is that you should first learn it from me!"}

This is why you don't waste time walking backwards and looking at safety pins- important things could be happening! (Also why does this exchange seem so funny to me- particularly their initial reaction {"Christine Daae here?" echoed Richard. "No. Why?"})

{"Yes, she was carried off in the Prison Act, at the moment when she was invoking the aid of the angels; but I doubt if she was carried off by an angel."

"And I am sure that she was!"}

Way to make a dramatic entrance, Raoul!

{"That Christine Daae was carried off by an angel, M. LE COMMISSAIRE and I can tell you his name."

"Aha, M. le Vicomte de Chagny! So you maintain that Christine Daae was carried off by an angel: an angel of the Opera, no doubt?"

"Yes, monsieur, by an angel of the Opera; and I will tell you where he lives ... when we are alone."}

Angel of the Opera? No, Raoul, you're thinking of the Phantom of the Opera/Sherlock Holmes crossover novel by Sam Siciliano.

{"M. le Commissaire, the angel is called Erik, he lives in the Opera and he is the Angel of Music!"

"The Angel of Music! Really! That is very curious! ... The Angel of Music!" And, turning to the managers, M. Mifroid asked, "Have you an Angel of Music on the premises, gentlemen?"}

"I don't think angels try to extort people or crash chandeliers, so no. Maybe try Notre Dame?"

{"Oh," said the viscount, "those gentlemen have heard of the Opera ghost. Well, I am in a position to state that the Opera ghost and the Angel of Music are one and the same person; and his real name is Erik."

M. Mifroid rose and looked at Raoul attentively.

"I beg your pardon, monsieur but is it your intention to make fun of the law? And, if not, what is all this about the Opera ghost?"}

Javert voice: "I am the law and the law is not mocked!"

{Richard rose, with the remaining hairs of his mustache in his hand.

"No, M. Commissary, no, we do not know him, but we wish that we did, for this very evening he has robbed us of twenty-thousand francs!"}

Yes, we wish we knew him so we could take him out to dinner and congratulate him for pulling such an effective con on us. (Random idea: Modern!Erik as an eccentric social engineering penetration tester the managers hired whose infiltration goes too far...)

{"Monsieur," said Raoul, "I can quite understand how absurd my replies must seem to you. But I beg you to believe that I am in full possession of my faculties. The safety of the person dearest to me in the world is at stake. I should like to convince you in a few words, for time is pressing and every minute is valuable. Unfortunately, if I do not tell you the strangest story that ever was from the beginning, you will not believe me. I will tell you all I know about the Opera ghost, M. Commissary. Alas, I do not know much! ..."

"Never mind, go on, go on!" exclaimed Richard and Moncharmin, suddenly greatly interested.

Unfortunately for their hopes of learning some detail that could put them on the track of their hoaxer, they were soon compelled to accept the fact that M. Raoul de Chagny had completely lost his head. All that story about Perros-Guirec, death's heads and enchanted violins, could only have taken birth in the disordered brain of a youth mad with love. It was evident, also, that Mr. Commissary Mifroid shared their view; and the magistrate would certainly have cut short the incoherent narrative if circumstances had not taken it upon themselves to interrupt it.}

Little bit of an unintentional self-burn there, Leroux, calling the story an 'incoherent narrative'. But I suppose Raoul is too distraught to do it justice.

{"Monsieur, we have talked enough about the ghost. We will now talk about yourself a little, if you have no objection: you were to carry off Mlle. Christine Daae to-night?"

"Yes, M. le Commissaire."}

I would think it's maybe not the best idea to admit that you were going to run off with someone while there's an investigation going on about that person being abducted. "Yes, it's terrible that she's gone- if only I had gotten to her first! Then she'd still be gone, but with me!"

{"Did you know that there were three other carriages there, in addition to yours?"

"I did not pay the least attention."

"They were the carriages of Mlle. Sorelli, which could not find room in the Cour de l'Administration; of Carlotta; and of your brother, M. le Comte de Chagny..."}

So how does Sorelli have her own carriage, and what's the deal with her not being able to find room? Was it the equivalent of having terrible luck finding a parking space?

{"I beg your pardon. Was not M. le Comte opposed to your marriage with Mlle. Daae?"

"That is a matter that only concerns the family."

"You have answered my question: he was opposed to it ... and that was why you were carrying Christine Daae out of your brother's reach... Well, M. de Chagny, allow me to inform you that your brother has been smarter than you! It is he who has carried off Christine Daae!"}

It would be kind of funny if he did, and Erik had to counter-kidnap Christine in order to go through with his plans... And if Philippe had taken Christine, I'd imagine that would be pretty awkward- what would they even talk about, sitting in the carriage together? Or would they just sit in uncomfortable silence.

"For the record, I love your brother."

"Of course you do... However, I love him enough to ensure his future is not ruined by an opera wench."

"We weren't going to get married! He was going to take me away and return alone!"

"Tell that to L'Epoque."

"Because gossip in the papers is always so reliable, is it?"

{"Oh," cried the young man, "I shall catch them!" And he rushed out of the office.

"And bring her back to us!" cried the commisary gaily ... "Ah, that's a trick worth two of the Angel of Music's!"}

You're looking in the wrong place, Raoul. (And where had Philippe's carriage gone? I'd assume Philippe wasn't in it, given where he turns up later...) What does he mean by that statement? Is the commisary basically saying 'If he finds Christine, it'll be worth having to hear all that nonsense'?

{A tall figure blocked Raoul's way.

"Where are you going so fast, M. de Chagny?" asked a voice.

Raoul impatiently raised his eyes and recognized the astrakhan cap of an hour ago. He stopped:

"It's you!" he cried, in a feverish voice. "You, who know Erik's secrets and don't want me to speak of them. Who are you?"

"You know who I am! ... I am the Persian!"}

They're both so dramatic XD And yaaay the Persian's here and we're finally getting somewhere!

Current Mood: accomplished

Sorry about that unintentional hiatus- I got busy with classes, had some mental health stuff come up, was watching other Phantom adaptations instead of this, aand oh yeah! I got my hands on the Coward translation, so I've been reading that instead and wow, does de Mattos cut things out. It does have some weird quirks, like making Madame Giry cockney, translating Carlotta's croak as 'skaark', and according to fdelopera's blog (found here: https://fdelopera.tumblr.com/phantom-translations ) the annotations are supposedly not very good, but I don't know enough about the historical context to speak about that.

But since de Mattos is the only one in the public domain, I must make do with that in order to go as in depth as I'd like.

{"I beg your pardon. The envelope which M. le Directeur gave me was the one which I slipped into M. le Directeur's pocket," explained Mme. Giry. "The one which I took to the ghost's box was another envelope, just like it, which the ghost gave me beforehand and which I hid up my sleeve."

So saying, Mme. Giry took from her sleeve an envelope ready prepared and similarly addressed to that containing the twenty-thousand francs. The managers took it from her. They examined it and saw that it was fastened with seals stamped with their own managerial seal. They opened it. It contained twenty Bank of St. Farce notes like those which had so much astounded them the month before.

"How simple!" said Richard.

"How simple!" repeated Moncharmin. And he continued with his eyes fixed upon Mme. Giry, as though trying to hypnotize her.}

One might say Erik has many tricks up his sleeve... and also Madame Giry's sleeve, apparently XD

{"Then would you mind giving us a specimen of your little talents? Here is the envelope. Act as though we knew nothing."

"As you please, gentlemen."

Mme. Giry took the envelope with the twenty notes inside it and made for the door. She was on the point of going out when the two managers rushed at her:

"Oh, no! Oh, no! We're not going to be 'done' a second time! Once bitten, twice shy!"

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the old woman, in self-excuse, "you told me to act as though you knew nothing ... Well, if you knew nothing, I should go away with your envelope!"}

Poor Madame Giry- she's just trying to do what they asked her!

{"I am to slip it into your pocket when you least expect it, sir. You know that I always take a little turn behind the scenes, in the course of the evening, and I often go with my daughter to the ballet-foyer, which I am entitled to do, as her mother; I bring her her shoes, when the ballet is about to begin ... in fact, I come and go as I please ... The subscribers come and go too... So do you, sir ... There are lots of people about ... I go behind you and slip the envelope into the tail-pocket of your dress-coat ... There's no witchcraft about that!"

"No witchcraft!" growled Richard, rolling his eyes like Jupiter Tonans. "No witchcraft! Why, I've just caught you in a lie, you old witch!"}

She's right- it is just sleight of hand. But the managers seem determined to be upset with her. I don't get why the Jupiter Tonans epithet is specifically referenced here instead of just Jupiter, and reading the Wikipedia article doesn't provide much enlightenment. Is it just supposed to mean his voice is thundering? What about the rolling eyes thing?

{"Yes, that's true, I remember now! The under-secretary went behind the scenes. He asked for me. I went down to the ballet-foyer for a moment. I was on the foyer steps ... The under-secretary and his chief clerk were in the foyer itself. I suddenly turned around ... you had passed behind me, Mme. Giry ... You seemed to push against me ... Oh, I can see you still, I can see you still!"}

Of course you can see her still- she's right in front of you! (Yes, I know he's referring to the memory of her bumping into him, but the wording just struck me as funny.)

{"Yes, that's it, sir, that's it. I had just finished my little business. That pocket of yours, sir, is very handy!"}

I was going to make a joke about modern women's clothing not having adequate pockets, but then I remembered that Madame Giry most likely would have had adequate pockets given the time period.

{Mme. Giry passed, rubbed up against M. Richard, got rid of her twenty-thousand francs in the manager's coat-tail pocket and disappeared ... Or rather she was conjured away. In accordance with the instructions received from Moncharmin a few minutes earlier, Mercier took the good lady to the acting-manager's office and turned the key on her, thus making it impossible for her to communicate with her ghost.}

Conjured away? Are they implying that the Phantom had something to do with her disappearance, or just that (since she has practice) she's good at slipping away and blending into a crowd?

I get why they had to lock her in FOR SCIENCE, but I still feel bad for her, stuck in an office until the managers decide they've figured out what happened. Also if they really think there's a real ghost, aren't they aware that ghosts are known for walking through walls? And if they think it's just a weird guy, why would they not also assume that said guy might also know how to pick locks in order to further his Phantom-y deeds??

{Meanwhile, M. Richard was bending and bowing and scraping and walking backward, just as if he had that high and mighty minister, the under-secretary for fine arts, before him. Only, though these marks of politeness would have created no astonishment if the under-secretary of state had really been in front of M. Richard, they caused an easily comprehensible amazement to the spectators of this very natural but quite inexplicable scene when M. Richard had no body in front of him.

M. Richard bowed ... to nobody; bent his back ... before nobody; and walked backward ... before nobody ... And, a few steps behind him, M. Moncharmin did the same thing that he was doing in addition to pushing away M. Remy and begging M. de La Borderie, the ambassador, and the manager of the Credit Central "not to touch M. le Directeur."}

Aaaand they're losing their minds... Wonderful.

{"Perhaps it was the ambassador ... or the manager of the Credit Central ... or Remy."}

Not Remy, the rat who learned how to cook! It couldn't possibly be him! Just taste his ratatouille- could a guilty rat make something that good?? (It would be funny if secretary Remy was only good at his job because there was a rat inside his hat controlling him, though.)

{"I am sure that nobody has touched me ... You had now better keep at some distance from me and watch me till I come to door of the office: it is better not to arouse suspicion and we can see anything that happens."}

If you're trying not to arouse suspicion, you're doing a terrible job of it.

{"But, in that case," exclaimed Richard, "they will never steal our twenty-thousand francs!"

"I should hope not, indeed!" declared Moncharmin.

"Then what we are doing is absurd!"}

Finally, a moment of self-awareness... XD Makes me think of "This is ridiculous, what am I doing here, I'm in the wrong story!" from Into the Woods.

{"Look here, I'm thinking of this, I'M THINKING OF WHAT I MIGHT THINK if, like last time, after my spending the evening alone with you, you brought me home and if, at the moment of parting, I perceived that twenty-thousand francs had disappeared from my coat-pocket ... like last time."

"And what might you think?" asked Moncharmin, crimson with rage.

"I might think that, as you hadn't left me by a foot's breadth and as, by your own wish, you were the only one to approach me, like last time, I might think that, if that twenty-thousand francs was no longer in my pocket, it stood a very good chance of being in yours!"}

I'm thinking that I might think that this is an entirely unproductive endeavor, and a business partnership like theirs should really be based on trust.

{And that was the moment when Moncharmin opened the door on the passage and shouted:

"A safety-pin! ... somebody give me a safety-pin!"

And we also know how, at the same moment, Remy, who had no safety-pin, was received by Moncharmin, while a boy procured the pin so eagerly longed for. And what happened was this: Moncharmin first locked the door again. Then he knelt down behind Richard's back.}

Moncharmin, you realize that people are going to think something embarrassing happened to one of you, don't you?

{"A little patience, Richard," said Moncharmin. "We have only a few minutes to wait ... The clock will soon strike twelve. Last time, we left at the last stroke of twelve."}

Just remember to take both of your shoes with you when you leave and thank your fairy godmother for the opportunity!

Current Mood: blank
Current Location: On the Steps of the Palace
Current Music: Ten Minutes Ago

Merry Christmas (or whatever else you celebrate!)- here's some Phantom Thoughts as my gift to you, whether you like it or not!

I'm skipping over some parts a bit, as there's not really much I can think of to say about them.

{The woman laughed, screamed with laughter! Raoul darted away, roaring with anger, ran up-stairs, four stairs at a time, down-stairs, rushed through the whole of the business side of the opera-house, found himself once more in the light of the stage.}

I'd start a tally for 'how many times Raoul has been openly laughed at in this novel', but I think it would just be depressing... (Plot twist- he's actually gone this whole book wearing a red clown nose or an equally humorous accessory and everyone has noticed it except for him, so no one can take him seriously.)

{At the same moment the stage buzzed with a new sound and, amid a crowd of men in evening-dress, all talking and gesticulating together, appeared a man who seemed very calm and displayed a pleasant face, all pink and chubby-cheeked, crowned with curly hair and lit up by a pair of wonderfully serene blue eyes. Mercier, the acting-manager, called the Vicomte de Chagny's attention to him and said:}

I know this is supposed to be a man, but the way he's described just sounds like someone talking about a baby. 'Oh, he's so calm and pleasant- and just look at those chubby pink cheeks!'

{Raoul was the last to enter. As he was about to follow the rest into the room, a hand was laid on his shoulder and he heard these words spoken in his ear:

"ERIK'S SECRETS CONCERN NO ONE BUT HIMSELF!"

He turned around, with a stifled exclamation. The hand that was laid on his shoulder was now placed on the lips of a person with an ebony skin, with eyes of jade and with an astrakhan cap on his head: the Persian! The stranger kept up the gesture that recommended discretion and then, at the moment when the astonished viscount was about to ask the reason of his mysterious intervention, bowed and disappeared.}

The Persian! Oh, it's so great to see him again (and we'll be seeing a lot more of him soon enough)! But if he was trying to communicate with Raoul subtly and quietly, HE MIGHT'VE CONSIDERED NOT SPEAKING LOUD ENOUGH TO BE RENDERED IN ALL CAPS.

{One morning, the managers found on their table an envelope addressed to "Monsieur O. G. (private)" and accompanied by a note from O. G. himself:

The time has come to carry out the clause in the memorandum-book. Please put twenty notes of a thousand francs each into this envelope, seal it with your own seal and hand it to Mme. Giry, who will do what is necessary.}

Would that amount of bills even fit into a single envelope? (Maybe I'm just not used to handling large amounts of money...)

Also, I don't really get why usually the managers (or sometimes the narrative itself) keep interchangeably calling Madame Giry either Madame Giry or Mother Giry. Madame I get, but isn't Mother a bit strange and superfluous, as everyone presumably knows her as Little Meg Giry's mom? Nobody goes around calling my mom Mother Phantom (and not just because it's not my actual last name)!

{At first sight, Richard and Moncharmin thought that the notes were still there; but soon they perceived that they were not the same. The twenty real notes were gone and had been replaced by twenty notes, of the "Bank of St. Farce"!}

Is this implying that Erik took the time to draw up some fake bank notes just for a prank? I guess he can't spend all his time working on Don Juan Triumphant or pining for Christine...

{"Don't let us make ourselves ridiculous! All Paris would laugh at us. O. G. has won the first game: we will win the second."

He was thinking of the next month's allowance.}

Let's see, Timmy gets a quarter in allowance for making his bed every day, Wendy gets a dollar for washing the dog, aaaand O.G. gets twenty thousand francs for being the best opera ghost and making a general nuisance of himself!

{Nevertheless, they had been so absolutely tricked that they were bound to suffer a certain dejection. And, upon my word, it was not difficult to understand. We must not forget that the managers had an idea at the back of their minds, all the time, that this strange incident might be an unpleasant practical joke on the part of their predecessors and that it would not do to divulge it prematurely. On the other hand, Moncharmin was sometimes troubled with a suspicion of Richard himself, who occasionally took fanciful whims into his head.}

Flashback to that terrible attempt at a comedy song from the David Staller Phantom musical where the managers are growing increasingly suspicious of each other as the Phantom uses tricks to pit them against each other. (My vague recollection was that it was called something like 'Now Who's Running the Show'??)

{The next time fell on the same day that beheld the disappearance of Christine Daae. In the morning, a note from the ghost reminded them that the money was due. It read:

Do just as you did last time. It went very well. Put the twenty thousand in the envelope and hand it to our excellent Mme. Giry.}

Erik has learned the power of positive reinforcement in getting people to do what you want XD

{"And now," he said, "let's have Mother Giry in."

The old woman was sent for. She entered with a sweeping courtesy. She still wore her black taffeta dress, the color of which was rapidly turning to rust and lilac, to say nothing of the dingy bonnet. She seemed in a good temper. She at once said:}

Okay, how would a black dress fade to a *lilac* purple with age? I could see it fading to a darker purple like mulberry or plum, but the almost-lavender of lilac?

{"First of all, Mme. Giry, I have a little question to put to you."

"By all means, M. Richard: Mme. Giry is here to answer you."}

Did- did she just refer to herself in the third person? Are Erik's habits catching on?

{"Are you still on good terms with the ghost?"

"Couldn't be better, sir; couldn't be better."}

"After all, you tried to fire me, but *he* appreciates me enough to murder my replacement to get me reinstated!"

{"Oh, you, understand quite well. In any case, you've got to understand... And, first of all, tell us his name."

"Whose name?"

"The name of the man whose accomplice you are, Mme. Giry!"

"I am the ghost's accomplice? I? ... His accomplice in what, pray?"

"You do all he wants."

"Oh! He's not very troublesome, you know."}

Doing all he wants could generally be seen as being an accomplice to some degree, Madame Giry. And the sheer audacity to say Erik's not very troublesome- I think Carlotta would have a thing or two to say about that, not to mention Joseph Buquet, if he were still around to say anything!

{"How much does he give you for bringing him that envelope?"

"Ten francs."

"You poor thing! That's not much, is it?}

Yeah, he could at least give you enough to buy a nice new dress so you wouldn't have to keep wearing that one. Or, for that matter, the managers who are HER ACTUAL EMPLOYERS could pay her more, if they actually are as sympathetic as they say they are for her shabby state...

{"I'll tell you that presently, Mme. Giry. Just now we should like to know for what extraordinary reason you have given yourself body and soul, to this ghost ... Mme. Giry's friendship and devotion are not to be bought for five francs or ten francs."}

No, she needs at least twenty francs before she'll acknowledge you publicly as a friend! (At least she's not poor Meg in Love Never Dies, who actually gives herself over body and soul in a fruitless attempt at gaining Mr. Y's attention and love...)

{"But this is a matter that concerns myself alone ... Well, it was in Box Five one evening, I found a letter addressed to myself, a sort of note written in red ink. I needn't read the letter to you sir; I know it by heart, and I shall never forget it if I live to be a hundred!"}

And I very much hope you do, dear lady, or at least live long enough to see your daughter become a baroness!

{And Mme. Giry, drawing herself up, recited the letter with touching eloquence:

MADAM:

1825. Mlle. Menetrier, leader of the ballet, became Marquise de Cussy.

1832. Mlle. Marie Taglioni, a dancer, became Comtesse Gilbert des Voisins.

1846. La Sota, a dancer, married a brother of the King of Spain.

1847. Lola Montes, a dancer, became the morganatic wife of King Louis of Bavaria and was created Countess of Landsfeld.

1848. Mlle. Maria, a dancer, became Baronne d'Herneville.

1870. Theresa Hessier, a dancer, married Dom Fernando, brother to the King of Portugal.

Richard and Moncharmin listened to the old woman, who, as she proceeded with the enumeration of these glorious nuptials, swelled out, took courage and, at last, in a voice bursting with pride, flung out the last sentence of the prophetic letter:

1885. Meg Giry, Empress!}

I feel like context is important for understanding how the aforementioned women attained their high positions. Also, you think Erik would just go for 'Queen' or something- it's a little bit more attainable, I think, as Empress implies possessing an empire and I think there's probably more kingdoms than empires in the world.

{"You have never seen him; he speaks to you and you believe all he says?" asked Moncharmin.

"Yes. To begin with, I owe it to him that my little Meg was promoted to be the leader of a row. I said to the ghost, 'If she is to be empress in 1885, there is no time to lose; she must become a leader at once.' He said, 'Look upon it as done.' And he had only a word to say to M. Poligny and the thing was done."}

Because the leader would therefore stick out more and be more likely to attract the attention of a royal personage in the future?

(With both their levels of blind devotion to who, unbeknownst to them, is the same person, I'd almost think Madame Giry and Madame Valerius would get along well.)

{"I, sir? I? ... I swear ..."

"Don't swear, Mme. Giry! ... And now I will tell you the second reason why I sent for you. Mme. Giry, I am going to have you arrested."}

We like to keep things PG here, Madame Giry.

{"HAVE ME ARRESTED!"

The mouth that spoke those words seemed to spit the three teeth that were left to it into Richard's face.

M. Richard behaved like a hero. He retreated no farther. His threatening forefinger seemed already to be pointing out the keeper of Box Five to the absent magistrates.

"I am going to have you arrested, Mme. Giry, as a thief!"

"Say that again!"

And Mme. Giry caught Mr. Manager Richard a mighty box on the ear, before Mr. Manager Moncharmin had time to intervene. But it was not the withered hand of the angry old beldame that fell on the managerial ear, but the envelope itself, the cause of all the trouble, the magic envelope that opened with the blow, scattering the bank-notes, which escaped in a fantastic whirl of giant butterflies.}

I don't think Richard is the hero here- which one of them is the one who's interrogating and pretending to be friendly with a gullible but harmless older lady for the sake of pinning a crime on her, and which one is the (not so!) harmless old lady who just wants what's best for her daughter?

You go, Madame Giry- box some sense into those managers who think you're a dastardly mastermind capable of pulling off elaborate tricks and crimes!

{"I never said that," declared Mme. Giry, "seeing that it was myself who put the twenty-thousand francs into M. Richard's pocket." And she added, under her voice, "There! It's out! ... And may the ghost forgive me!"

Richard began bellowing anew, but Moncharmin authoritatively ordered him to be silent.

"Allow me! Allow me! Let the woman explain herself. Let me question her." And he added: "It is really astonishing that you should take up such a tone! ... We are on the verge of clearing up the whole mystery. And you're in a rage! ... You're wrong to behave like that... I'm enjoying myself immensely."}

Can I just say that asking forgiveness from an angel makes much more sense than asking a ghost's forgiveness?

Richard: "But I thought we agreed to do a 'good cop, bad cop' routine!"

{"Aha!" said Richard, suddenly assuming a swaggering air which Moncharmin did not like. "I knew nothing either! You put twenty-thousand francs in my pocket and I knew nothing either! I am very glad to hear it, Mme. Giry!"

"Yes," the terrible dame agreed, "yes, it's true. We neither of us knew anything. But you, you must have ended by finding out!"

Richard would certainly have swallowed Mme. Giry alive, if Moncharmin had not been there! But Moncharmin protected her.}

I'd hardly say that Madame Giry is terrible, even if she did just box someone in the ears for calling her a thief.

Do I need to start a count for 'cannibalism references related to eating Madame Giry'? (Is she everyone in management's go-to for 'if we were stranded on a deserted island and running out of food, this is who we'd eat first' ? She really doesn't deserve that.) Because if so, in the immortal words of Doctor Doofenshmirtz, "I'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."

Current Mood: anxious

{In spite of the seriousness of the circumstances, the absurdity of the question would have made them roar with laughter, if they had not caught sight of a face so sorrow-stricken that they were at once seized with pity. It was the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny.}

Poor Raoul. He just can't catch a break. First a fight with his brother, then his plan to get Christine far away from there is preempted before it can even begin, despite all his planning.

{Raoul's first thought, after Christine Daae's fantastic disappearance, was to accuse Erik. He no longer doubted the almost supernatural powers of the Angel of Music, in this domain of the Opera in which he had set up his empire. And Raoul rushed on the stage, in a mad fit of love and despair.}

At this point, I almost think Raoul would somehow blame Erik if he stubbed his toe in the Opera house... Not that his conclusion here was wrong, of course.

{"Christine! Christine!" he moaned, calling to her as he felt that she must be calling to him from the depths of that dark pit to which the monster had carried her. "Christine! Christine!"

And he seemed to hear the girl's screams through the frail boards that separated him from her. He bent forward, he listened, ... he wandered over the stage like a madman. Ah, to descend, to descend into that pit of darkness every entrance to which was closed to him, ... for the stairs that led below the stage were forbidden to one and all that night!}

I'm getting some Orpheus and Euridyce vibes here. Of course, we all know that singing "I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her!" is utterly ineffective against Erik. (And if he hadn't followed it up with "Show some compassion!", Erik's retort would have probably been along the lines of "Well, that makes two of us!".)

{People pushed him aside, laughing. They made fun of him. They thought the poor lover's brain was gone!}

Not cool, people.

However, the phrasing just makes me think of "Brain and brain! What is brain!?" from the episode Spock's Brain of the original series of Star Trek. (A short video to enlighten and entertain those unaware can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgqbW83slXU ) "Someone stole Raoul's brain!" And just picture the Persian piloting Raoul's body via remote control when they go down to find Erik...

{Hideous thoughts flashed through Raoul's congested brain. Of course, Erik must have discovered their secret, must have known that Christine had played him false. What a vengeance would be his!}

I really feel the whole 'congested brain' thing, being mildly sick with a cold at the moment.

{And Raoul thought again of the yellow stars that had come, the night before, and roamed over his balcony. Why had he not put them out for good? There were some men's eyes that dilated in the darkness and shone like stars or like cats' eyes. Certainly Albinos, who seemed to have rabbits' eyes by day, had cats' eyes at night: everybody knew that! ... Yes, yes, he had undoubtedly fired at Erik. Why had he not killed him? The monster had fled up the gutter-spout like a cat or a convict who—everybody knew that also—would scale the very skies, with the help of a gutter-spout ... No doubt Erik was at that time contemplating some decisive step against Raoul, but he had been wounded and had escaped to turn against poor Christine instead.}

Who says it has to be like a cat or a convict? Why not a convict cat, like Macavity, who's "broken every human law" and must face justice for numerous crimes, including tax fraud?

And you might be thinking of him, Raoul, but I doubt he's considered you a significant enough threat to be thinking about you.

{Bitter tears scorched the boy's eyelids as he saw scattered over the furniture the clothes which his beautiful bride was to have worn at the hour of their flight. Oh, why had she refused to leave earlier?}

Had she actually said she was going to marry him at this point, or was this just based on the engagement game?

{He pushed, pressed, groped about, but the glass apparently obeyed no one but Erik ... Perhaps actions were not enough with a glass of the kind? Perhaps he was expected to utter certain words? When he was a little boy, he had heard that there were things that obeyed the spoken word!}

I don't think the password is 'Open Sesame', Raoul.

{Suddenly, Raoul remembered something about a gate opening into the Rue Scribe, an underground passage running straight to the Rue Scribe from the lake ... Yes, Christine had told him about that... And, when he found that the key was no longer in the box, he nevertheless ran to the Rue Scribe. Outside, in the street, he passed his trembling hands over the huge stones, felt for outlets ... met with iron bars ... were those they? ... Or these? ... Or could it be that air-hole? ... He plunged his useless eyes through the bars ... How dark it was in there! ... He listened ... All was silence! ... He went round the building ... and came to bigger bars, immense gates! ... It was the entrance to the Cour de l'Administration.}

I think Leroux needs the equivalent of a swear jar for every time he uses ellipses in this book.

Current Mood: exhausted

{It was at that moment that the stage was suddenly plunged in darkness. It happened so quickly that the spectators hardly had time to utter a sound of stupefaction, for the gas at once lit up the stage again. But Christine Daae was no longer there!}

Did the Phantom get his hands on some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder? XD

{Where had Christine gone? What witchcraft had snatched her, away before the eyes of thousands of enthusiastic onlookers and from the arms of Carolus Fonta himself? It was as though the angels had really carried her up "to rest."}

Well, she hasn't been carried up to rest... I think you might have more success looking down. Also, I'm just curious, is Carolus Fonta meant to be based on a real life opera singer of the time, or is he basically the proto-Piangi?

{But Raoul hurriedly left his seat, the count disappeared from his box and, while the curtain was lowered, the subscribers rushed to the door that led behind the scenes. The rest of the audience waited amid an indescribable hubbub. Every one spoke at once. Every one tried to suggest an explanation of the extraordinary incident.}

'Indescribable hubbub' is such a good phrase. And I'm picturing everyone offering explanations in almost a Buzzfeed Unsolved kind of way, and there's one person who's absolutely sure that it was aliens and will not be convinced otherwise.

{At last, the curtain rose slowly and Carolus Fonta stepped to the conductor's desk and, in a sad and serious voice, said:

"Ladies and gentlemen, an unprecedented event has taken place and thrown us into a state of the greatest alarm. Our sister-artist, Christine Daae, has disappeared before our eyes and nobody can tell us how!"}

I wonder how well he knew Christine- were they friends? They'd probably at least worked together in rehearsals. I mean, they probably aren't super close or else he would've been mentioned before (and a certain lurking Phantom would have gotten jealous and likely tried to get him assigned to a different role- can't have Christine falling for the handsome lead tenor), and the 'sister-artist' is likely just a theatrical flourish...

{Behind the curtain, there was an indescribable crowd. Artists, scene-shifters, dancers, supers, choristers, subscribers were all asking questions, shouting and hustling one another.}

And there's that 'indescribable' again, although it's undermined by the fairly successful attempt to describe the contents of the crowd that's gathered. Okay, what exactly are supers and choristers?

I know what subscribers means in this context, but it's much funnier to imagine a more YouTube-esque scenario where every so often the performance just stops and one of the actors goes 'Don't forget to subscribe for more great opera content like this!' 'Check out our new merch in the foyer- 50% off with the promo code FAUST!' 'Hit the bell to turn on notifications so you don't miss any of our future performances!' and they address the subscribers with some cheesy name like the "Garnier Gang" or something like that.

{"Ah, here's Carlotta! Carlotta did the trick!"}

Also funny to imagine: Carlotta, Philippe, Raoul, and Erik were all trying to take Christine away sometime during the performance for drastically different reasons, but their attempts kept foiling each other's and Christine makes it through the performance just fine, unaware of these machinations, but finds them all waiting for her afterwards looking varying degrees of peeved and shooting glares at each other.

Or the crowd just desperately grasping at straws for any possible explanation, and involving anything and anyone in their line of sight in their theories. ("Look- there's a prop broomstick backstage!" "Weren't there supposed to be two of these?" "I bet Christine flew off on the other one!" "Yeah, didn't you hear someone yelling 'So, if you care to find me- look to the western sky!' during all that commotion?" "That's not what happened- besides, she's a soprano, not a mezzo-soprano!")

{"No, it was the ghost!" And a few laughed, especially as a careful examination of the trap-doors and boards had put the idea of an accident out of the question.}

Riiiight, because the ghost is only responsible for accidents. He wouldn't do something so purposeful as vanishing the leading lady during the middle of the performance to take her down to his secret underground lair. The Ghost would never do something like that, right? /s

{Amid this noisy throng, three men stood talking in a low voice and with despairing gestures. They were Gabriel, the chorus-master; Mercier, the acting-manager; and Remy, the secretary. They retired to a corner of the lobby by which the stage communicates with the wide passage leading to the foyer of the ballet. Here they stood and argued behind some enormous "properties."}

Remy! I almost forgot that he wasn't a MAZM Phantom original. [insert obligatory Ratatouille the Musical joke here]

{"I refuse to know or to do anything before the commissary arrives," declared Mercier. "I have sent for Mifroid. We shall see when he comes!"}

Mifroid! Wow, I'd forgotten how attentive the MAZM Phantom game was with even the names of minor characters! (They managed to mangle Erik's redemption, which is kind of the entire point of the story, but still! Props for attention to detail!)

{"What do you want me to do down there for{sic}?"}

[sic] indeed! But then, I'd probably not be paying as much attention here either- this whole scene and the managers' antics that follow manages to disrupt the flow of the whole story, just when tension is building over Christine's disappearance, and I don't really find the whole safety pin thing particularly engaging or funny.

{The stage-manager walked away, shrugging his shoulders, fuming, muttering insults at those milksops who remained quietly squatting in a corner while the whole theater was topsyturvy{sic}.}

Okay, I didn't mean two typos in roughly the span of a page was excusable...

{"Moncharmin opened the door at last. His eyes were starting out of his head. I thought he meant to strike me. I could not get a word in; and what do you think he shouted at me? 'Have you a safety-pin?' 'No!' 'Well, then, clear out!' I tried to tell him that an unheard-of thing had happened on the stage, but he roared, 'A safety-pin! Give me a safety-pin at once!' A boy heard him—he was bellowing like a bull—ran up with a safety-pin and gave it to him; whereupon Moncharmin slammed the door in my face, and there you are!"}

New method of dealing with interruptions: tell the person that you can't be bothered dealing with them unless they have a safety-pin. (Or, you know, just read a book on anger management or effective management practices or inspiring loyalty in your employees through leadership.)

{"And couldn't you have said, 'Christine Daae.'"

"I should like to have seen you in my place. He was foaming at the mouth. He thought of nothing but his safety-pin. I believe, if they hadn't brought him one on the spot, he would have fallen down in a fit! ... Oh, all this isn't natural; and our managers are going mad! ... Besides, it can't go on like this! I'm not used to being treated in that fashion!"}

That last sentence seems more suited to Carlotta than anyone else. Maybe if you'd had a safety-pin on you, you might have persuaded them into offering you a raise?

{Rimy gave a grin, Mercier a sigh and seemed about to speak ... but, meeting Gabriel's eye, said nothing.}

And now there's no [sic], right when a character's name is clearly misspelled?

Skipping some lines due to my capacity for bearing with excessive ellipses and all caps becoming exhausted.

{"Oh, so you admit it! And high time, too! And THEN, THEY WALK BACKWARD!"

"BACKWARD! You have seen our managers WALK BACKWARD? Why, I thought that only crabs walked backward!"}

I thought crabs walked sideways? But admittedly, I know nothing about crabs, and I suspect studying them further would only make me... crabby XD

{"Perhaps you can tell me this, Gabriel, as you're an intimate friend of the management: When I went up to M. Richard, outside the foyer, during the Garden interval, with my hand out before me, why did M. Moncharmin hurriedly whisper to me, 'Go away! Go away! Whatever you do, don't touch M. le Directeur!' Am I supposed to have an infectious disease?"}

Well, if you aren't social distancing and wearing your mask, I can't blame them for avoiding you...

{"And Moncharmin, behind Richard, also turned about; that is, he described a semicircle behind Richard and also WALKED BACKWARD! ... And they went LIKE THAT to the staircase leading to the managers' office: BACKWARD, BACKWARD, BACKWARD! ... Well, if they are not mad, will you explain what it means?"

"Perhaps they were practising a figure in the ballet," suggested Gabriel, without much conviction in his voice.

The secretary was furious at this wretched joke, made at so dramatic a moment.}

Come on, Remy, you had to admit he had a golden opportunity there XD

{"You did see it, Gabriel, for you went with Mercier and Mother Giry to Mercier's office. Since then, you and Mercier have been seen, but no one has seen Mother Giry."

"Do you think we've eaten her?"}

"Well, you do already have a ghost in your workplace, so I don't know if secret cannibalism is that much of a stretch." (But kudos for a joke that actually made me laugh- assuming this isn't some other bizarre mistranslation...)

Current Mood: exhausted

{He dismissed the servants with a wave of the hand and the two Chagnys were left alone. But the men were not out of earshot before the count's valet heard Raoul say, distinctly and emphatically:

"I shall carry off Christine Daae to-night."

This phrase was afterward repeated to M. Faure, the examining-magistrate. But no one ever knew exactly what passed between the two brothers at this interview. The servants declared that this was not their first quarrel. Their voices penetrated the wall; and it was always an actress called Christine Daae that was in question.}

Whenever a story says 'something happened, but only the people who were there knew what was said', I get intrigued. I wonder what happened- was it just more of the same as we've seen before ("I'm in love with this opera singer and want to marry her!" "RAOUL NO." "RAOUL YES!"), or was this fight worse, and created a rift that they would never have the opportunity to mend? Have they ever had major fights before, or did this strain on their relationship start when Raoul encountered Christine again?

{"The latest news in the Faubourg is that there is a promise of marriage between Mlle. Christine Daae, the opera-singer, and M. le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny. If the gossips are to be credited, Count Philippe has sworn that, for the first time on record, the Chagnys shall not keep their promise. But, as love is all-powerful, at the Opera as—and even more than—elsewhere, we wonder how Count Philippe intends to prevent the viscount, his brother, from leading the new Margarita to the altar. The two brothers are said to adore each other; but the count is curiously mistaken if he imagines that brotherly love will triumph over love pure and simple."}

I would think Philippe could easily prevent Raoul from marrying Christine if he exercised the full extent of his power? IIRC, isn't Raoul not old enough to marry without familial consent first- he would've had to be in his mid 20s before he could do that? I would say the count is curiously mistaken, and based on how he's handled this situation, I doubt he's ever been in love before.

But awwww... they adore(d) each other!

Oh. They adored each other, but their last conversations were arguments and they never got the chance to make up before... (I'm fuzzy on whether or not this works with the timeline and how Philippe died, but imagine an AU where Raoul and the Persian come across Philippe dying by the lake and they get the chance to have a final conversation. It's gut-wrenching regardless of whether Philippe changes his mind on his deathbed and says something like "Go, and be happy with her." or if his last words are disapproving on the matter, as he whispers so hoarsely and faintly that Raoul has to struggle to her him say "Above all else, Raoul, maintain the family honor.". Ow.)

{"You see, Raoul," said the count, "you are making us ridiculous! That little girl has turned your head with her ghost-stories."

The viscount had evidently repeated Christine's narrative to his brother, during the night. All that he now said was:

"Good-by, Philippe."}

And now I'm picturing Raoul earnestly pouring his heart out to his brother in a last ditch effort to make him understand, all the while Philippe just stands there and watches him coldly and wonders where he went wrong raising him, that he would make up such a story in an effort to justify his improper behavior. (Aaaand I'm making myself sad again.)

{Raoul, in fact, devoted the whole day to his preparations for the flight. The horses, the carriage, the coachman, the provisions, the luggage, the money required for the journey, the road to be taken (he had resolved not to go by train, so as to throw the ghost off the scent)}

Because ghosts obviously only travel by train, silly. XD

{At nine o'clock, a sort of traveling-barouche with the curtains of its windows close-down, took its place in the rank on the Rotunda side. It was drawn by two powerful horses driven by a coachman whose face was almost concealed in the long folds of a muffler.}

Any time care is taken to point out that someone is hiding their face, my Phantom senses start tingling... Which is probably why I'm prone to falling for red herrings like the rat catcher thing!

{In front of this traveling-carriage were three broughams, belonging respectively to Carlotta, who had suddenly returned to Paris, to Sorelli and, at the head of the rank, to Comte Philippe de Chagny.}

Long time, no see, Carlotta. In fact, it's been so long that I can't remember why, when, and to where you left. And Sorelli! Always good to hear about her.

{A shadow in a long black cloak and a soft black felt hat passed along the pavement between the Rotunda and the carriages, examined the barouche carefully, went up to the horses and the coachman and then moved away without saying a word, The magistrate afterward believed that this shadow was that of the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny; but I do not agree, seeing that that evening, as every evening, the Vicomte de Chagny was wearing a tall hat, which hat, besides, was subsequently found. I am more inclined to think that the shadow was that of the ghost, who knew all about the whole affair, as the reader will soon perceive.}

Detecting is always better when it involves hats. :D

{The regular frequenters of the Opera, who pretended to know the truth about the viscount's love-story, exchanged significant smiles at certain passages in Margarita's part; and they made a show of turning and looking at Philippe de Chagny's box when Christine sang:

"I wish I could but know who was he

That addressed me,

If he was noble, or, at least, what his name is."

The count sat with his chin on his hand and seemed to pay no attention to these manifestations. He kept his eyes fixed on the stage; but his thoughts appeared to be far away.}

They pretend to know, but they really have no idea what's going on in Raoul's life, don't they? It sounds almost like a parasocial relationship, in a way.

{Just then, Carlotta made her entrance in a box facing the stage, a sensational entrance. Poor Christine raised her eyes upon this fresh subject of excitement. She recognized her rival. She thought she saw a sneer on her lips. That saved her. She forgot everything, in order to triumph once more.}

At least wait for an intermission, Carlotta! In other news, Christine discovered how effective spite can be as a motivation.

{From that moment the prima donna sang with all her heart and soul. She tried to surpass all that she had done till then; and she succeeded. In the last act when she began the invocation to the angels, she made all the members of the audience feel as though they too had wings.

In the center of the amphitheater a man stood up and remained standing, facing the singer. It was Raoul.}

Aaaand he's wearing a "tall hat", so there's probably several people behind him that can't see- learn some theater etiquette, Raoul XD

In terms of standing up to interrupt a performance, this ranks far below that scene in Y&K Phantom where Cherik (Charles Dance as Erik, if you didn't already know) reveals himself to the audience so he can watch Christine perform that same scene in Faust, and she starts singing to him and he sings Faust's part back, and everyone completely ignores the guy playing Faust onstage to listen to this heavenly voice singing "Oui, c'est moi, je t'aime!" to Christine and it gets me right in the feels every time.

Is it ever explained why he's just standing up? I'm guessing it's because he wants to remind Christine that he's there, and to try to inspire her to have courage to finish this one last thing before they implement the plan to run away.

But, wow, I think this is the final scene in Faust, and that she's singing the "Anges purs, anges radieux" part, which, regardless of who's singing it, always gives me chills when I hear it, so if Christine is singing it with her amazing voice, then it must be an absolutely awe-inducing experience for the audience.

{And Christine, her arms outstretched, her throat filled with music, the glory of her hair falling over her bare shoulders, uttered the divine cry:

"My spirit longs with thee to rest!"}

I wonder what that costume's supposed to look like. Is it basically like the Y&K one, where she's in a simple long white sleeveless thing that looks like it's made out of a sheet, with possibly a cape over it? That doesn't really fit with the pictures I've seen of 1880s/1890s Marguerites, but then unless they show the actress at the spinning wheel, I can't tell if it's supposed to be her costume for just Acts 1 through 4 and she wears something different when she's in prison, or if she just wears the same dress throughout the whole show.

Why are the lyrics from the opera translated here, when Faust is a French opera? I get why earlier, so readers could understand 'oh, this line is talking about a noble lover, so people are wondering how Philippe would react to that', but here it just seems strange, especially since the translated version of the line seems rather... trite? and the rhyme with 'blessed' and 'rest' is kind of forced and doesn't quite fit. But IDK if I could have done better, especially since the first line I though of off the top of my head that conveys roughly the same meaning was "Angels, radiant and pure / Take me where my soul will soar", which is an even worse failed rhyme than de Mattos', and doesn't really take into account if it would work with the tune.

Messing around with it a bit more, just for fun. "Angels, radiant and pure / Bring me where God's love endures"? Or "Fly to where my hope's secure"? Really, it looks like the ideal translation, if you're going to translate it, is fdelopera's "Angels pure! Angels so bright! / Carry my soul to Heaven’s light". (Source: https://fdelopera.tumblr.com/post/135915142818/ahh-your-translation-of-the-french-leroux-text-is )

Current Mood: thoughtful

To write some meta about how Glinda possibly sees herself as wicked, based on the lyrics of "No One Mourns the Wicked" and "I Couldn't Be Happier", possibly expanding upon the following points.

"Goodness knows the wicked's lives are lonely"- Glinda is, at this point, deeply lonely, having lost both Elphaba and FIyero, with no one else in the world who knows the truth of what happened.

"Woe to those who spurn what goodness they are shown."- Elphaba forgiving her for tricking her with the hat and the dance, them becoming friends but then Glinda rejecting Elphaba's offer to become "unlimited" together and help the Animals.

"There's a kind of a sort of cost / There's a couple of things get lost."- Glinda lost her friendship with Elphaba, and she has, to some extent, has sacrificed her morals as she goes along with the false narratives presented to the public by Morrible about Elphaba.

"The wicked cry alone."- Glinda cannot even openly mourn her best friend in public, and is trying her best to keep it together and put on a facade for the Ozians, but I'd imagine once she's by herself she just. breaks down. and if anyone sees they interpret it as "Look how good Glinda is- she's even feeling sorry for the terrible Wicked Witch dying!". Glinda has become everything she's ever thought she wanted, but it's entirely a mask and leaves her feeling hollow as she tries to pick up the pieces Elphaba left behind.

Her entire line that she'll try to be Glinda the Good is Glinda acknowledging that she hasn't always been good, that she's messed up and become wicked by misleading the people into thinking they "know what goodness is" when they really know nothing at all about the situation.

Oh, I also want to write a meta or fanfic about what might've happened if Elphaba took the Wizard's offer to "At long, long last receive your due long overdue / Elphaba, the most celebrated are the rehabilitated", but used the power to advance her own causes, scheming with Glinda behind the Wizard's back to help the Animals. And then Elphaba finds out her true parentage and things get even more complicated. It's just a fascinating what if to me, especially since Elphaba seems so entranced by the offer at the end of "Wonderful".

Current Mood: contemplative

Seriously, go watch it- I'll wait. Volume warning, it does get LOUD at times, especially at "my generous supply" and "FIYEROOOOO".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4AwhW4mG8I

So, are we in agreement that Saycon Sengbloh absolutely nails this song? She sounds beautiful and really gives it her all, doing some really great riffs without making it about the riffs and sounding great. Her gestures during the chanting really make it seem magical and alien, like she doesn't know what she's doing but is instinctively trying because she just wants to save Fiyero so badly. HER ACTING. I mean, just look at her entire demeanor and especially her eyes during "Was I really seeking good or just seeking attention?", she really brings the unhinged, desperate, and having a mental breakdown aspect to the forefront, and makes it really seem like Elphaba is thinking through the process of 'is doing good really worth it? I'll just give up because I've never actually done anything good or saved anyone, and it's not worth trying anymore'. And at the end, you can see glimpses of a Maleficent-esque 'I'm doing evil because it's fun' fighting with a deep loneliness and sadness that she was driven to this point.

Also, I can't pinpoint an exact reason why, but her wig just looks especially good in this video.

I just love No Good Deed in general, because, for the first time, we as the audience aren't automatically siding with Elphaba and are instead almost seeing her through the eyes of the Ozians who fear her, and it's an absolute shock. She doesn't care what anyone thinks of her anymore, not even us. The lighting and the mist make her seem unnatural, someone to be feared who isn't of this world, and the emphasis on her cape swooshing around just enhances the feel of her being more wicked than before.

Current Mood: creative

Well, it's been *checks calendar* almost two years exactly, and we're finally at part 40! It seems like we're finally out of the Apollo's Lyre scene, and I'm no liar XD (Side note- I really love the wordplay in Hadestown when Orpheus says he plays the lyre and Eurydice responds with "Oh, a liar, and a player too! I've met too many men like you ". It's just *chef's kiss*.)

{A cold sweat poured from his temples. Two eyes, like blazing coals, had appeared at the foot of his bed. They stared at him fixedly, terribly, in the darkness of the night.

Raoul was no coward; and yet he trembled. He put out a groping, hesitating hand toward the table by his bedside. He found the matches and lit his candle. The eyes disappeared.}

Yeah, not gonna lie, I would also be super freaked out by that. Also, wow, if that really is Erik, it is really weird to just be at the foot of your rival's bed and stay there staring at him like some kind of sleep paralysis demon.

{"She told me that HIS eyes only showed in the dark. His eyes have disappeared in the light, but HE may be there still."

And he rose, hunted about, went round the room. He looked under his bed, like a child. Then he thought himself absurd, got into bed again and blew out the candle.}

There are other things that look like they have eyes that glow in the dark- deer, cats... and that's all I've got. At least it's not a deer in your room!

I would totally check under the bed if I were you, Raoul. Who knows what kind of terrifying mutant dust bunnies might be lurking there? (Also, it would be super awkward if Erik did duck under the bed to avoid detection, and then Raoul checked under there and they made eye contact and Erik was like *finger guns* 'Hey, fancy seeing you here, Vicomte'.)

{He sat up and stared back at them with all the courage he possessed. Then he cried:

"Is that you, Erik? Man, genius, or ghost, is it you?"}

Two of those three things are not mutually exclusive, if he means genius like 'look at this genius cat who can play the piano'. And what is he expecting in reply?? 'Yes, Raoul, it's your brilliant nemesis Erik here to taunt you about how Christine loves me and only me and we're going to be together forever and take long walks on Sunday and sing better than anyone else in the world- and if you weren't awake, I was just planning to whisper that in your ear and try to get the message through subconsciously'??

{The eyes were still there, at the foot of the bed. Were they between the bed and the window-pane or behind the pane, that is to say, on the balcony? That was what Raoul wanted to know. He also wanted to know if those eyes belonged to a human being... He wanted to know everything. Then, patiently, calmly, he seized his revolver and took aim. He aimed a little above the two eyes. Surely, if they were eyes and if above those two eyes there was a forehead and if Raoul was not too clumsy ...

The shot made a terrible din amid the silence of the slumbering house. And, while footsteps came hurrying along the passages, Raoul sat up with outstretched arm, ready to fire again, if need be.

This time, the two eyes had disappeared.}

I'm amazed at Raoul's ability to, presumably, manage a steady shot when he's A) only just woken up and B) has been trembling.

{Servants appeared, carrying lights; Count Philippe, terribly anxious:

"What is it?"

"I think I have been dreaming," replied the young man. "I fired at two stars that kept me from sleeping."

"You're raving! Are you ill? For God's sake, tell me, Raoul: what happened?"}

Aww, he really does care about his brother!

Also, stars??? Raoul, that's a terrible excuse if you were trying to make one. What about 'I think a stray cat got into the house and it was bothering me so I shot at it'? Sure, it makes you seem very unkind to cats, who are majestic animals that do not deserve such treatment, but it makes much more sense and sounds less mad than trying to shoot down some stars that were bothering you.

{Raoul was leaning over the balcony with his candle: "Aha!" he said. "Blood! ... Blood! ... Here, there, more blood! ... That's a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!" he grinned.

"Raoul! Raoul! Raoul!"

The count was shaking him as though he were trying to waken a sleep-walker.}

Acting this happy at the sight of blood just makes you seem like a serial killer, Raoul XD

Also, cute/bittersweet headcanon that bby!Raoul did have a problem with sleepwalking and that Philippe or one of his sisters had to get out of bed and wake him up and gently get him back in bed like Lucy taking Linus home from the pumpkin patch at 4 AM in "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown".

{"You can see the blood for yourself. I thought I had been dreaming and firing at two stars. It was Erik's eyes ... and here is his blood! ... After all, perhaps I was wrong to shoot; and Christine is quite capable of never forgiving me ... All this would not have happened if I had drawn the curtains before going to bed."}

Yeah, maybe ask Christine before you decide to shoot Erik on sight if you ever see him? And absolutely draw the bed curtains and the regular curtains before you go to sleep- I for one absolutely cannot sleep unless it's pretty dark. Or maybe invest in a sleep mask, Raoul?

{The count's valet said:

"That is so, sir; there is blood on the balcony."

The other man-servant brought a lamp, by the light of which they examined the balcony carefully.}

Whatever you're paying the servants, Philippe, they deserve a raise after dealing with all this nonsense in the middle of the night.

{"My dear fellow," said Count Philippe, "you have fired at a cat."

"The misfortune is," said Raoul, with a grin, "that it's quite possible. With Erik, you never know. Is it Erik? Is it the cat? Is it the ghost? No, with Erik, you can't tell!"

Raoul went on making this strange sort of remarks which corresponded so intimately and logically with the preoccupation of his brain and which, at the same time, tended to persuade many people that his mind was unhinged.}

And he's already in a somewhat delicate frame of mind especially in regards to Erik, so when he's actually stuck in the torture chamber, it makes things that much worse for him :(

Probably overthinking things, but I wonder if this passage, with the confusion between Erik and a cat, is the basis on which several adaptations give Erik a pet cat, like Ayesha in Kay's novel? I haven't read Kay, so I don't know if she covers this scene, but perhaps Erik with a cat adaptations interpret this as Erik's cat doing his bidding by bothering Raoul?

Current Mood: amused

It's been a while, hasn't it? Hopefully, I'll be able to actually finish commenting on this book someday... Let's see, I believe we were last at Apollo's Lyre...

{"No, no, he is working, I tell you, at his Don Juan Triumphant and not thinking of us."

"You're so sure of that you keep on looking behind you!"}

Christine's hypervigilance here is honestly relatable. Is it reaching too much to headcanon her with PTSD? (Iiii kind of don't care and will probably just do it anyway.) And, yet again, Raoul is taking the potential danger of the Phantom much less seriously, as opposed to Christine, who sometimes overestimates the threat he presents, but you can't really blame her for that (different canon, but reminds me of the ALW musical's "And if he has to kill a thousand men / The Phantom of the Opera will kill / and kill again!").

{"Hadn't we better meet outside the Opera?"

"Never, till we go away for good! It would bring us bad luck, if I did not keep my word. I promised him to see you only here."}

I don't think it's 'bad luck' as in tripping while walking down the sidewalk- it sounds more like 'deliberate misfortune that will be brought down upon you' as in chandeliers falling, scorpions and grasshoppers, et cetera.

{"It's a good thing for me that he allowed you even that. Do you know," said Raoul bitterly, "that it was very plucky of you to let us play at being engaged?"

"Why, my dear, he knows all about it! He said, 'I trust you, Christine. M. de Chagny is in love with you and is going abroad. Before he goes, I want him to be as happy as I am.' Are people so unhappy when they love?"}

'I want him to be as happy as I am'- *sarcasm* And you're very well known for being happy, aren't you, Erik? So happy that just getting kissed on the forehead is enough for you to taste all the happiness the world can offer and then die. (Spoilers for a book over a hundred years old, I guess?) Poor, unhappy Erik, indeed.

But it's at least good that he trusts her that much and isn't overcome with murder-y jealousy towards Raoul. (Yet.) It seems that being in unrequited love with Christine has made both these men very unhappy- but how does this attention make Christine feel? It doesn't seem like her feelings are really the focus or really matter as much when there's men expounding on how their love for her makes them feel all the unhappy, tumultuous feels.

{"No. He gave me his word not to be behind the walls of my dressing-room again and I believe Erik's word. This room and my bedroom on the lake are for me, exclusively, and not to be approached by him."}

They trust each other! Even after all of this, they trust each other! (Not enough to go outside the Opera House, but still.)

{"It is dangerous, dear, for the glass might carry me off again; and, instead of running away, I should be obliged to go to the end of the secret passage to the lake and there call Erik."}

'The glass might carry me off again' is such a poetic turn of phrase, though it raises many questions about the logistics of the process, especially when Erik isn't there to facilitate her journey through the underworld.

{"Erik will hear me wherever I call him. He told me so. He is a very curious genius. You must not think, Raoul, that he is simply a man who amuses himself by living underground. He does things that no other man could do; he knows things which nobody in the world knows."

"Take care, Christine, you are making a ghost of him again!"

"No, he is not a ghost; he is a man of Heaven and earth, that is all."}

I mean, he does kind of amuse himself by living underground and messing with the managers? But, yeah, he doesn't just live underground for the fun of it.

I just really love this whole exchange?? Christine calling Raoul dear is very endearing, and then you've got things like E & C trusting each other's word which ignites a tiny spark in my shipper heart, plus 'Erik will hear me wherever I call him' (I keep wanting to type 'whenever', b/c that just makes more sense in my head.). I don't know what to make of the 'man of Heaven and earth' thing- maybe my brain is just tired from studying for finals, but I've just never understood the implications of what it means, other than the obvious 'he's not a ghost but can do incredible things'.

{"A man of Heaven and earth ... that is all! ... A nice way to speak of him! ... And are you still resolved to run away from him?"

"Yes, to-morrow."

"To-morrow, you will have no resolve left!"

"Then, Raoul, you must run away with me in spite of myself; is that understood?"}

Christine thinks kidnapping is romantic #confirmed (jk I'm kidding)

Also, wow, Leroux and/or de Mattos, you think there's enough ellipses in that dialogue??

{Christine opened a box, took out an enormous key and showed it to Raoul.

"What's that?" he asked.

"The key of the gate to the underground passage in the Rue Scribe."}

This gets so much funnier if you imagine the key as one of those ridiculously huge ceremonial 'key to the city' things XD

{"Oh heavens!" she cried. "Erik! Erik! Have pity on me!"

"Hold your tongue!" said Raoul. "You told me he could hear you!"

But the singer's attitude became more and more inexplicable.}

I think it's less 'inexplicable' and more 'probably on the verge of having a panic attack'.

{"The ring ... the gold ring he gave me."

"Oh, so Erik gave you that ring!"}

Is this really the time for that, Raoul?? Put aside your jealousy for one minute and help Christine out.

{He put out his lamp and felt a need to insult Erik in the dark. Thrice over, he shouted:

"Humbug! ... Humbug! ... Humbug!"}

Okay, I find this really adorable for some reason?? Like Raoul trying to be all tough and insult his rival but the best thing he can come up with is 'humbug', and probably not even an Ebenezer Scrooge caliber humbug at that??

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: Raoul, I've Been There

{"Christine," said Raoul, rising, "you tell me that you love me; but you had recovered your liberty hardly a few hours before you returned to Erik! Remember the masked ball!"

"Yes; and do you remember those hours which I passed with you, Raoul ... to the great danger of both of us?"

"I doubted your love for me, during those hours."

"Do you doubt it still, Raoul? ... Then know that each of my visits to Erik increased my horror of him; for each of those visits, instead of calming him, as I hoped, made him mad with love! And I am so frightened, so frightened! ..."}

This is... interesting. I almost wonder if Christine's exaggerating her horror of Erik to Raoul so he won't get jealous.

{"You are frightened ... but do you love me? If Erik were good-looking, would you love me, Christine?"

She rose in her turn, put her two trembling arms round the young man's neck and said:

"Oh, my betrothed of a day, if I did not love you, I would not give you my lips! Take them, for the first time and the last."

He kissed her lips; but the night that surrounded them was rent asunder, they fled as at the approach of a storm and their eyes, filled with dread of Erik, showed them, before they disappeared, high up above them, an immense night-bird that stared at them with its blazing eyes and seemed to cling to the string of Apollo's lyre.}

She.. avoided that question very effectively. Christine said, basically, "It doesn't matter if I love Erik, especially in a circumstance that could never be- I love you and I wouldn't let you do this if I didn't."

But it's an interesting thought. If Erik didn't have such an unfortunate face (therefore making his childhood and life in general a lot less awful and hopefully make him less of a jerk), would Christine still love Raoul? I think she would, but I don't know if she would ultimately choose him as a romantic partner in the end. She loves Raoul, both as an old friend and romantically, but, in this AU, would she love Erik more, enough to spend her life with him? (The E/C shipper in me says YES, but really I could see her falling for and ending up with either one of them in this scenario.)

Also, I'm a little confused. Did they actually see that Erik was there watching them, did they imagine it, or simply recognize the possibility that he could be watching and decide to leave in order to be safe?

{There was no performance at the Opera that night and the passages were empty. Suddenly, a queer-looking form stood before them and blocked the road:

"No, not this way!"

And the form pointed to another passage by which they were to reach the wings. Raoul wanted to stop and ask for an explanation. But the form, which wore a sort of long frock-coat and a pointed cap, said:

"Quick! Go away quickly!"}

Ah, the ever-delightful daroga makes his first appearance!

{Christine was already dragging Raoul, compelling him to start running again.

"But who is he? Who is that man?" he asked.

Christine replied: "It's the Persian."

"What's he doing here?"

"Nobody knows. He is always in the Opera."}

Christine is so chill about this. "Oh, yeah, we have a mysterious creepy guy lurking around the Opera all the time and nobody knows what his deal is... Well, technically we have two counting Erik, but nbd."

{"You are making me run away, for the first time in my life. If we really saw Erik, what I ought to have done was to nail him to Apollo's lyre, just as we nail the owls to the walls of our Breton farms; and there would have been no more question of him."}

Overly violent threats really don't suit you, Raoul. (And you're still harboring the delusion that you could, in fact, take Erik in a fight. Seriously, if it wasn't for Christine you'd be dead.)

Also that's just a super disturbing practice?? (I really like owls. They're gorgeous birds. You wouldn't hurt Hedwig, would you?? Or Gylfie, for that matter, if you like semi-obscure fandoms.)

{"My dear Raoul, you would first have had to climb up to Apollo's lyre: that is no easy matter."}

Christine here with a much-needed reality check that manages to convince Raoul of the thoughtlessness of his plan without hurting his ego.

{"The blazing eyes were there!"

"Oh, you are getting like me now, seeing him everywhere! What I took for blazing eyes was probably a couple of stars shining through the strings of the lyre."}

Or WAS IT??

Current Mood: accomplished

{His Don Juan Triumphant (for I had not a doubt but that he had rushed to his masterpiece to forget the horror of the moment) seemed to me at first one long, awful, magnificent sob. But, little by little, it expressed every emotion, every suffering of which mankind is capable.}

I like this DJT better than ALW, I think. An artistic masterpiece, the effort of a lifetime, that expresses just how DONE Erik is with the world and how cruelly it treats him and all those who are different from the norm.

{Presently I heard the sound of the organ; and then I began to understand Erik's contemptuous phrase when he spoke about Opera music.}

So, Erik is a pretentious opera snob, then?

{'Erik,' I cried, 'show me your face without fear! I swear that you are the most unhappy and sublime of men; and, if ever again I shiver when I look at you, it will be because I am thinking of the splendor of your genius!' Then Erik turned round, for he believed me, and I also had faith in myself.}

That's quite a dramatic 180 there, Christine. The text doesn't say, but there has to be some sort of timejump between Erik going to his room to sulk and this declaration??

{He fell at my feet, with words of love}

Again, dramatic 180, but not exactly unwelcome. You SHOULD be falling at Christine's feet begging for forgiveness, Erik.

{"What more can I tell you, dear? You now know the tragedy. It went on for a fortnight—a fortnight during which I lied to him. My lies were as hideous as the monster who inspired them; but they were the price of my liberty.}

Owww this hurts. Christine, despite her admiration of him, still can't get over the horror of Erik's face and has to lie to him to spare his feelings and gain her freedom.

{I burned his mask}

Bold move, there, especially given that you actually can't stand to see his face.

{I managed so well that, even when he was not singing, he tried to catch my eye, like a dog sitting by its master. He was my faithful slave and paid me endless little attentions. Gradually, I gave him such confidence that he ventured to take me walking on the banks of the lake and to row me in the boat on its leaden waters; toward the end of my captivity he let me out through the gates that closed the underground passages in the Rue Scribe.}

The power dynamic is so weird and complicated here. He is her "faithful slave" and duitiful servant, and yet she is his prisoner who needs permission to take a walk outside.

Also for some reason I'm picturing the boat thing as some weird version of Kiss the Girl from the Little Mermaid except with candles and weird lake monsters instead of charming talking crustaceans.

{"Yes, dear, and I must tell you that it was not his frightful threats when setting me free that helped me to keep my word, but the harrowing sob which he gave on the threshold of the tomb. ... That sob attached me to the unfortunate man more than I myself suspected when saying good-by to him. Poor Erik! Poor Erik!"}

Ohhhh. Christine is SO GOOD. So caring. Able to even feel sympathy for people who've hurt her. Frankly, she deserves better than either of these two ridiculous men. (*cough* I still ship E/C though because their dynamic is interesting to explore *cough*)

Current Mood: lazy

Hello everyone. Long time no Phantom posts. It's good to see me again, isn't it?

No need to respond- that was rhetorical.

{"Then I saw the keyboard of an organ which filled one whole side of the walls. On the desk was a music-book covered with red notes. I asked leave to look at it and read, 'Don Juan Triumphant.' 'Yes,' he said, 'I compose sometimes.' I began that work twenty years ago. When I have finished, I shall take it away with me in that coffin and never wake up again.' 'You must work at it as seldom as you can,' I said. He replied, 'I sometimes work at it for fourteen days and nights together, during which I live on music only, and then I rest for years at a time.' }

Isn't red ink so much hard to see on white paper?? Why does Erik like to use it so much??

Also, exaggerating to impress your crush much, Erik? Unless you're genuinely supernatural, which you've admitted you aren't, you can't be a generally productive person and work for FOURTEEN DAYS STRAIGHT WITHOUT FOOD, WATER, OR SLEEP. And, unless there's some weird Sleeping Beauty type shenanagins going on, or are in a coma somehow, YOU CAN'T SLEEP FOR YEARS AT A TIME. (Unless he means that after his creative efforts are spent, he lives for years just going through the motions mechanically, without any spark of inspiration or interest in anything.)

I find it interesting that he started work on DJT 20 years ago- in ALW you (or at least me) get the impression that it's more of a recent passion project that's bordering on self-insert fanfic. But in Leroux, what prompted him to start composing? It's much less of a major facet of his character skills than it is in ALW.

It's kinda nice of Christine to basically say "If you're going to die after you finish this, then you *really* shouldn't work on it. Make as little progress as possible. Live."

(But isn't the point of composing to eventually get your work performed?? So why plan to not live to see your work performed or even have ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU FIND OR SEE IT IN THE FIRST PLACE??? I'm so confused by the quote above and I just had to try and unpack everything. Moving on!)

{"What did you do?"

"I had no time to think about the meaning he put into his words. We at once began the duet in Othello and already the catastrophe was upon us.}

Yeah, if it took me this long to process my thoughts about what he just said, I can't imagine having to react in the moment to this *incredibly weird* declaration.

(And if the catastrophe is your singing, I'm sure it can't be that bad.)

{I sang Desdemona with a despair, a terror which I had never displayed before. As for him, his voice thundered forth his revengeful soul at every note. Love, jealousy, hatred, burst out around us in harrowing cries. Erik's black mask made me think of the natural mask of the Moor of Venice. He was Othello himself. Suddenly, I felt a need to see beneath the mask. I wanted to know the FACE of the voice, and, with a movement which I was utterly unable to control, swiftly my fingers tore away the mask. Oh, horror, horror, horror!"}

While I do appreciate Shakespeare and have some general knowledge about all of his plays (which might not apply, since this is clearly some sort of opera), I probably need a refresher on Othello in order to really comment on how this applies to the situation.

The whole Christine being 'unable to control' herself from tearing off his mask thing has me curious. Was she just overcome by curiosity and had a Psyche moment? Or was this a moment like Erik doing his ambigously hypnotic control thing like in ALW with "I am your angel of music/Come to me, angel of music ... Sing for me!"?

And if it was the latter, why would he self-sabotage like that?

{Christine stopped, at the thought of the vision that had scared her, while the echoes of the night, which had repeated the name of Erik, now thrice moaned the cry: "Horror! ... Horror! ... Horror!"}

You're not being sneaky, Erik. This whole "echoes in the night" thing isn't fooling me.

{Raoul said: "Strange, Christine, that this calm, soft night should be so full of plaintive sounds. One would think that it was sorrowing with us."

"When you know the secret, Raoul, your ears, like mine, will be full of lamentations."}

Yes, it's strange, Raoul. Almost like someone is spying on you. Maybe you should, I don't know, CHECK BEHIND THE BIG STATUE??

(Also, if I didn't know better, I'd almost think Christine knows Erik is there and is covering for him.)

{"Yes, if I lived to be a hundred, I should always hear the superhuman cry of grief and rage which he uttered when the terrible sight appeared before my eyes ...}

Worst superpower ever: being able to scream ridiculously loudly and emotionally to an inhuman degree. It may freak people out, but it certainly wouldn't get you on the avengers.

{But imagine, if you can, Red Death's mask suddenly coming to life in order to express, with the four black holes of its eyes, its nose, and its mouth, the extreme anger, the mighty fury of a demon; AND NOT A RAY OF LIGHT FROM THE SOCKETS, for, as I learned later, you can not see his blazing eyes except in the dark.}

I take that back- glow-in-the-dark eyes are the worse superpower. Especially if they don't come with night vision abilities. You can't sneak up on anyone at night, but I guess you could freak them out?? Maybe lurk beside country roads at night and pretend to be deer whenever a car drives by??

{he hissed mad, incoherent words and curses at me. Leaning over me, he cried, 'Look! You want to see! See! Feast your eyes, glut your soul on my cursed ugliness! Look at Erik's face!'}

CURSE YOU, YOU LITTLE LYING DELILAH! YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORAAAA!

{Now you know the face of the voice! You were not content to hear me, eh? You wanted to know what I looked like! Oh, you women are so inquisitive! Well, are you satisfied? I'm a very good-looking fellow, eh? ... When a woman has seen me, as you have, she belongs to me. She loves me for ever. I am a kind of Don Juan, you know!'}

Points for snark, but the sexism definitely cancels it out.

{And, when I turned away my head and begged for mercy, he drew it to him, brutally, twisting his dead fingers into my hair.}

Minus a million points for hurting her. Maybe try to be a decent person for once in your life, Erik???

{"Enough! Enough!" cried Raoul. "I will kill him. In Heaven's name, Christine, tell me where the dining-room on the lake is! I must kill him!"}

The sentiment is relatable right now, Raoul, but you must be dreaming if you're even thinking of fighting Erik, let alone winning.

The Dining Room on the Lake sounds like a delightful fancy restaurant, though.

{"Then he hissed at me. 'Ah, I frighten you, do I? ... I dare say! ... Perhaps you think that I have another mask, eh, and that this ... this ... my head is a mask? Well,' he roared, 'tear it off as you did the other! Come! Come along! I insist! Your hands! Your hands! Give me your hands!' And he seized my hands and dug them into his awful face. He tore his flesh with my nails, tore his terrible dead flesh with my nails!}

This is. Messed. Up. Erik using Christine as a vehicle for self-harm and projecting his own self-loathing onto while also terrifying and hurting her. Just messed up.

{'Know,' he shouted, while his throat throbbed and panted like a furnace, 'know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!}

In a different context, this statement would be kind of romantic?? But here? NOPE.

{As long as you thought me handsome, you could have come back, I know you would have come back ... but, now that you know my hideousness, you would run away for good...}

You're making shallow generalizations about women, Erik. Maybe your ugliness wouldn't scare her away, but the yelling and hurting her? Definitely would.

{'When my own father never saw me and when my mother, so as not to see me, made me a present of my first mask!'}

So does he even know who his father is? Was it that he was illegitimate, that Mom hid the baby away him/ran away from him, or what?

{And then he crawled away like a snake}

Hilarious mental image, that.

Current Mood: accomplished

And I sobbed through the last 10 minutes (practically on cue right after Hiccup said 'there were dragons when I was a boy'), as well as the next 10-20 minutes after that. It is a WONDERFUL movie. For more thoughts and discussion of major spoilers (including Race to the Edge spoilers), see under the cut.

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Current Mood: numb

Spelling Verrocchio's name right. Or Brunelleschi. Don't even get me started on Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni.

Seriously, it takes me *at least* three tries to spell it correctly.

Current Mood: amused

Marius: Cosette, I don't know what to say!
Cosette: Then make no sound.
*awkward silence ensues*

We're on a roll!

{"Before answering that," said Raoul, at last, speaking very slowly, "I should like to know with what feeling he inspires you, since you do not hate him."

"With horror!" she said. "That is the terrible thing about it. He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness! ... He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love... He has carried me off for love! ... He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love! ... But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps! ... And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty ... he offered it ... he offered to show me the mysterious road ... Only ... only he rose too ... and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice ... for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed! ... That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep.}

Ohhh I feel for you, Christine. It's HARD to articulate complicated feelings about people, especially about people who hurt you. How can I hate him? He's so pathetic. I reduce him to tears! To self-deprecation! To emotional declarations and prostrating himself before me for forgiveness! What terrible villain would do that? He respects me, even to the point of groveling as if I was a queen! And yet he ensnares me and holds me captive with his voice!

{"When I woke up, I was alone, lying on a sofa in a simply furnished little bedroom, with an ordinary mahogany bedstead, lit by a lamp standing on the marble top of an old Louis-Philippe chest of drawers. I soon discovered that I was a prisoner and that the only outlet from my room led to a very comfortable bath-room. On returning to the bedroom, I saw on the chest of drawers a note, in red ink, which said, 'My dear Christine, you need have no concern as to your fate. You have no better nor more respectful friend in the world than myself. You are alone, at present, in this home which is yours. I am going out shopping to fetch you all the things that you can need.' I felt sure that I had fallen into the hands of a madman. I ran round my little apartment, looking for a way of escape which I could not find. I upbraided myself for my absurd superstition, which had caused me to fall into the trap. I felt inclined to laugh and to cry at the same time.}

Erik likes writing in red ink A LOT. (And yet I almost wonder if it's ink and not... ketchup.) Also, if she has no better or more respectful friend than you, Erik, I'm concerned at the state of her social life.

(I'm just trying to picture Erik in full mask getup shopping at a modern grocery store. Highly amusing. I strongly recommend it.)

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Current Mood: accomplished

The long-awaited return!

WE'RE BACK! Finally. Sorry for the long wait, but things have been busy and not great lately.

{"Christine! Christine! Something tells me that we are wrong to wait till to-morrow evening and that we ought to fly at once."

"I tell you that, if he does not hear me sing tomorrow, it will cause him infinite pain."

"It is difficult not to cause him pain and yet to escape from him for good."}

I can't believe I'm saying this but.. good point, Raoul. It would definitely hurt Erik more if he knew that Christine was *planning* to leave him and deliberately sang for him one last time than it would if she just vanished, which he could blame on Raoul convincing her to leave on a whim or something because no way would she just leave him by himself ON PURPOSE. No way it could be a planned, premeditated thing. It MUST have been the vicomte!

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Current Mood: accomplished

Buckle up for a long one, folks, because it's BACKSTORY TIME!

{"Tell me how you saw him first."

"I had heard him for three months without seeing him. The first time I heard it, I thought, as you did, that that adorable voice was singing in another room. I went out and looked everywhere; but, as you know, Raoul, my dressing-room is very much by itself; and I could not find the voice outside my room, whereas it went on steadily inside. And it not only sang, but it spoke to me and answered my questions, like a real man's voice, with this difference, that it was as beautiful as the voice of an angel. I had never got the Angel of Music whom my poor father had promised to send me as soon as he was dead. I really think that Mamma Valerius was a little bit to blame. I told her about it; and she at once said, 'It must be the Angel; at any rate, you can do no harm by asking him.' I did so; and the man's voice replied that, yes, it was the Angel's voice, the voice which I was expecting and which my father had promised me. From that time onward, the voice and I became great friends. It asked leave to give me lessons every day. I agreed and never failed to keep the appointment which it gave me in my dressing-room. You have no idea, though you have heard the voice, of what those lessons were like."}

Of all the words you could use to describe the Phantom's voice, the first one you pick is adorable??

As much as I hate to blame a widowed old lady verging on senility, it is a little bit Mme. Valerius' fault. (Mostly Erik's fault for taking the Angel idea and running with it, though.)

(ohh now I want to read fanfics about Christine and Erik just hanging out as friends during the Angel days before it all went wrong...)

{"We were accompanied by a music which I do not know: it was behind the wall and wonderfully accurate. The voice seemed to understand mine exactly, to know precisely where my father had left off teaching me. In a few weeks' time, I hardly knew myself when I sang. I was even frightened. I seemed to dread a sort of witchcraft behind it; but Mamma Valerius reassured me. She said that she knew I was much too simple a girl to give the devil a hold on me ... }

So, was Erik also playing the accompaniment? Just standing there trying to hide a piano in the wall??

Dramatic change in oneself *is* very frightening, even if it is change for the better. Mme. Valerius is not exactly comforting, though. 'Oh, you're too straightforward and stupid for the devil to want to mess with you.'

{My progress, by the voice's own order, was kept a secret between the voice, Mamma Valerius and myself. It was a curious thing, but, outside the dressing-room, I sang with my ordinary, every-day voice and nobody noticed anything. I did all that the voice asked. It said, 'Wait and see: we shall astonish Paris!' And I waited and lived on in a sort of ecstatic dream. It was then that I saw you for the first time one evening, in the house. I was so glad that I never thought of concealing my delight when I reached my dressing-room. Unfortunately, the voice was there before me and soon noticed, by my air, that something had happened. It asked what was the matter and I saw no reason for keeping our story secret or concealing the place which you filled in my heart. Then the voice was silent. I called to it, but it did not reply; I begged and entreated, but in vain. I was terrified lest it had gone for good. I wish to Heaven it had, dear! ... That night, I went home in a desperate condition. I told Mamma Valerius, who said, 'Why, of course, the voice is jealous!' And that, dear, first revealed to me that I loved you."}

So did she have to try and make an effort to keep her voice concealed, or was she 'magically' back to her usual level of singing after the lessons?

That's.. strange. Realizing you love someone who you haven't seen in years because your boyfriend slash tutor got jealous of you talking about him.

{"I went back to my dressing-room in a very pensive frame of mind. The voice was there, spoke to me with great sadness and told me plainly that, if I must bestow my heart on earth, there was nothing for the voice to do but to go back to Heaven. And it said this with such an accent of HUMAN sorrow that I ought then and there to have suspected and begun to believe that I was the victim of my deluded senses. But my faith in the voice, with which the memory of my father was so closely intermingled, remained undisturbed.}

UNDERHANDED MANIPULATION TACTIC, ERIK. THAT'S VERY MUCH NOT A GOOD THING TO DO *AND* YOU JUST GAVE AWAY YOUR GAME. (Wait- DID she suspect at the time or was it just obvious in hindsight? The former would be very interesting.)

I'm... not touching that last sentence. There's a lot of ways you can interpret that if you want to, but I personally prefer the non-vaguely-incestuous version of 'my dad promised to send me the Angel of Music- if this isn't the Angel, then was my father lying to me or failing to keep his word? no, it MUST be the Angel. my father would never fail me.'

{I had thought about my love for you and realized all the useless danger of it; and I did not even know if you remembered me. Whatever happened, your position in society forbade me to contemplate the possibility of ever marrying you; and I swore to the voice that you were no more than a brother to me nor ever would be and that my heart was incapable of any earthly love.}

This needs to be emphasized more: R/C IS *ALSO* FORBIDDEN AND SOCIALLY UNACCEPTABLE LOVE. IT IS NOT THE EASY WAY OUT.

{I don't know how it was that Carlotta did not come to the theater that night nor why I was called upon to sing in her stead; but I sang with a rapture I had never known before and I felt for a moment as if my soul were leaving my body!"

"Oh, Christine," said Raoul, "my heart quivered that night at every accent of your voice. I saw the tears stream down your cheeks and I wept with you. How could you sing, sing like that while crying?"}

Had you checked for Dementors? That would explain both the soul-sucking and the fainting.

(Also more crying together. Gee, I wonder if this will ever be important later?)

{"I felt myself fainting," said Christine, "I closed my eyes. When I opened them, you were by my side. But the voice was there also, Raoul! I was afraid for your sake and again I would not recognize you and began to laugh when you reminded me that you had picked up my scarf in the sea! ... Alas, there is no deceiving the voice! ... The voice recognized you and the voice was jealous! ... It said that, if I did not love you, I would not avoid you, but treat you like any other old friend. It made me scene upon scene. At last, I said to the voice, 'That will do! I am going to Perros to-morrow, to pray on my father's grave, and I shall ask M. Raoul de Chagny to go with me.' 'Do as you please,' replied the voice, 'but I shall be at Perros too, for I am wherever you are, Christine; and, if you are still worthy of me, if you have not lied to me, I will play you The Resurrection of Lazarus, on the stroke of midnight, on your father's tomb and on your father's violin.' That, dear, was how I came to write you the letter that brought you to Perros. How could I have been so beguiled? How was it, when I saw the personal, the selfish point of view of the voice, that I did not suspect some impostor? Alas, I was no longer mistress of myself: I had become his thing!"}

MORE MANIPULATION... At least she's become confident enough to reclaim herself as mistress of her own actions, unswayed by any man!

{Pity me, Raoul, pity me! ... You remember the terrible evening when Carlotta thought that she had been turned into a toad on the stage and when the house was suddenly plunged in darkness through the chandelier crashing to the floor? There were killed and wounded that night and the whole theater rang with terrified screams. My first thought was for you and the voice. I was at once easy, where you were concerned, for I had seen you in your brother's box and I knew that you were not in danger. But the voice had told me that it would be at the performance and I was really afraid for it, just as if it had been an ordinary person who was capable of dying. I thought to myself, 'The chandelier may have come down upon the voice.' I was then on the stage and was nearly running into the house, to look for the voice among the killed and wounded, when I thought that, if the voice was safe, it would be sure to be in my dressing-room and I rushed to my room. The voice was not there. I locked my door and, with tears in my eyes, besought it, if it were still alive, to manifest itself to me. The voice did not reply, but suddenly I heard a long, beautiful wail which I knew well. It is the plaint of Lazarus when, at the sound of the Redeemer's voice, he begins to open his eyes and see the light of day. It was the music which you and I, Raoul, heard at Perros. And then the voice began to sing the leading phrase, 'Come! And believe in me! Whoso believes in me shall live! Walk! Whoso hath believed in me shall never die! ...' I can not tell you the effect which that music had upon me. It seemed to command me, personally, to come, to stand up and come to it. It retreated and I followed. 'Come! And believe in me!' I believed in it, I came ... I came and—this was the extraordinary thing—my dressing-room, as I moved, seemed to lengthen out ... to lengthen out ... Evidently, it must have been an effect of mirrors ... for I had the mirror in front of me ... And, suddenly, I was outside the room without knowing how!"}

That's.. an uncomfortable appropriation of Christianity. Like I get that he's supposed to be an Angel, but yeesh... Just rubs me the wrong way.

{ You, who saw me disappear from my room one evening, may be able to explain it; but I can not. I can only tell you that, suddenly, there was no mirror before me and no dressing-room. I was in a dark passage, I was frightened and I cried out. It was quite dark, but for a faint red glimmer at a distant corner of the wall. I tried out. My voice was the only sound, for the singing and the violin had stopped. And, suddenly, a hand was laid on mine ... or rather a stone-cold, bony thing that seized my wrist and did not let go. I cried out again. An arm took me round the waist and supported me. I struggled for a little while and then gave up the attempt. I was dragged toward the little red light and then I saw that I was in the hands of a man wrapped in a large cloak and wearing a mask that hid his whole face. I made one last effort; my limbs stiffened, my mouth opened to scream, but a hand closed it, a hand which I felt on my lips, on my skin ... a hand that smelt of death. Then I fainted away.}

Yay! No creepy mirror bride in this version! Just more fainting.

{"When I opened my eyes, we were still surrounded by darkness. A lantern, standing on the ground, showed a bubbling well. The water splashing from the well disappeared, almost at once, under the floor on which I was lying, with my head on the knee of the man in the black cloak and the black mask. He was bathing my temples and his hands smelt of death. I tried to push them away and asked, 'Who are you? Where is the voice?'}

I remember there was mist...

Well, that's certainly.. different than ALW.

{His only answer was a sigh. Suddenly, a hot breath passed over my face and I perceived a white shape, beside the man's black shape, in the darkness. The black shape lifted me on to the white shape, a glad neighing greeted my astounded ears and I murmured, 'Cesar!' The animal quivered. Raoul, I was lying half back on a saddle and I had recognized the white horse out of the PROFETA, which I had so often fed with sugar and sweets. I remembered that, one evening, there was a rumor in the theater that the horse had disappeared and that it had been stolen by the Opera ghost. I believed in the voice, but had never believed in the ghost.}

So he stole her favorite horsie? That's an impressive amount of attention to detail.

{Now, however, I began to wonder, with a shiver, whether I was the ghost's prisoner. I called upon the voice to help me, for I should never have imagined that the voice and the ghost were one.}

That is incredibly ironic. Also super awkward for Erik. 'Voice, save me from the terrifying opera ghost!' 'Umm... I am the terrifying opera ghost?' 'Oh' 'Oh indeed'

{But the figures of which I caught sight had made me run away. There are demons down there, quite black, standing in front of boilers, and they wield shovels and pitchforks and poke up fires and stir up flames and, if you come too near them, they frighten you by suddenly opening the red mouths of their furnaces}

Well, that's not a very nice thing to call the hardworking furnace tenders, even if they are creepy. (I assume that's what going on and not anything supernatural?? feels very Hades/Persephone though)

{I sprang to my feet. I was in the middle of a drawing-room that seemed to me to be decorated, adorned and furnished with nothing but flowers, flowers both magnificent and stupid, because of the silk ribbons that tied them to baskets, like those which they sell in the shops on the boulevards. They were much too civilized flowers, like those which I used to find in my dressing-room after a first night. And, in the midst of all these flowers, stood the black shape of the man in the mask, with arms crossed, and he said, 'Don't be afraid, Christine; you are in no danger.' IT WAS THE VOICE!}

Woah, easy does it with the sudden all caps announcement of who's in the room- you'll give me flashbacks to bad fanfic. (Also how dare you?? I have never yet met a flower which I would call stupid.)

{I had, no doubt, to do with a terrible, eccentric person, who, in some mysterious fashion, had succeeded in taking up his abode there, under the Opera house, five stories below the level of the ground. And the voice, the voice which I had recognized under the mask, was on its knees before me, WAS A MAN! And I began to cry... The man, still kneeling, must have understood the cause of my tears, for he said, 'It is true, Christine! ... I am not an Angel, nor a genius, nor a ghost ... I am Erik!}

I am FIRE! I am DEATH! I am ERIK! Doesn't quite have the same ring to it. (again with the sudden all caps, Leroux? seriously?)

{An echo behind them seemed to repeat the word after her. "Erik!"}

Yep. Still just an echo. No spying going on here.

{"We have nothing to fear except the trap-doors, dear, and here we are miles away from the trap-doors ... and I am not allowed to see you outside the theater. This is not the time to annoy him. We must not arouse his suspicion."}

Nothing to fear but fear itself (and also trap doors)!

Current Mood: accomplished

{The shadow had followed behind them clinging to their steps; and the two children little suspected its presence when they at last sat down, trustingly, under the mighty protection of Apollo, who, with a great bronze gesture, lifted his huge lyre to the heart of a crimson sky.}

Wonderfully poetic, with an unfortunate side of infantilization.

{"Soon we shall go farther and faster than the clouds, to the end of the world, and then you will leave me, Raoul. But, if, when the moment comes for you to take me away, I refuse to go with you—well you must carry me off by force!"}

So, along with stalking, does Christine also think that kidnapping is really romantic? (Explains quite a bit.)

{"What compels you to go back, Christine?"

"If I do not go back to him, terrible misfortunes may happen! ... But I can't do it, I can't do it! ... I know one ought to be sorry for people who live underground ... But he is too horrible! And yet the time is at hand; I have only a day left; and, if I do not go, he will come and fetch me with his voice. And he will drag me with him, underground, and go on his knees before me, with his death's head. And he will tell me that he loves me! And he will cry! Oh, those tears, Raoul, those tears in the two black eye-sockets of the death's head! I can not see those tears flow again!" She wrung her hands in anguish, while Raoul pressed her to his heart.}

So are we supposed to feel sorry for moles now? And worms? And.. miners? And people who live in survivalist bunkers?

Umm... Christine, do you know who 'kneeling before you, crying, and telling you how much he loves you' also sounds like?? (*cough* Raoul, especially in the previous chapter *cough*) I can see why you'd want to be free of both of them.

{"No, no, you shall never again hear him tell you that he loves you! You shall not see his tears! Let us fly, Christine, let us fly at once!" And he tried to drag her away, then and there. But she stopped him.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head sadly. "Not now! ... It would be too cruel ... let him hear me sing to-morrow evening ... and then we will go away. You must come and fetch me in my dressing-room at midnight exactly. He will then be waiting for me in the dining-room by the lake ... we shall be free and you shall take me away ... You must promise me that, Raoul, even if I refuse; for I feel that, if I go back this time, I shall perhaps never return."}

Never return as in 'get murdered' or never return as in 'be stuck as a captive' or never return as in 'get married'??

(Out of context, someone waiting for you in a dining-room by a lake sounds like a really nice date. But who eats dinner at midnight???)

{And she gave a sigh to which it seemed to her that another sigh, behind her, replied.}

Probably an echo, right?? Totally. No Phantoms here.

{"There is some one in pain," said Raoul. "Perhaps some one has been hurt. Did you hear?"

"I can't say," Christine confessed. "Even when he is not there, my ears are full of his sighs. Still, if you heard ..."}

Yep. Just an echo. Nothing to see here.

Stopping short right here because next time we go into BACKSTORYYYY yay

Current Mood: calm

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