Phantom Thoughts pt. 42

 {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...)

Phantom Thoughts pt. 43

{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.