Phantom Thoughts pt. 40

[zellephantom]

 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?

Comments

[cmcmck]

Nice to see you around again! :o)

[igenlode]

I've always liked this scene, despite the fact that it is random and basically pointless in terms of the overall plot. Erik appears for no reason and does nothing; Raoul shoots and wounds him, but this apparently has no effect. I mean, at the very least you'd think that Leroux might mention Erik's having a bandage somewhere about his person the next time we see him, or he might bring up the fact that Raoul injured him as an additional resentment against son petit jeune homme, "that little fellow of hers" as Erik calls him contemptuously (or ce pauvre petit désespéré de vicomte, as the Persian calls him: the poor desperate little vicomte).
But frankly I think Leroux simply forgets about it ;-p

A cold sweat poured from his temples. Two eyes, like blazing coals, had appeared at the foot of his bed.

Interesting fact: we can deduce that the foot of Raoul's bed was towards the window, since it transpires that Erik is actually outside on the balcony ;-)
(We can also deduce that they were the typical long French windows (porte-fenêtres), since it is possible to open them and step outside.)

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'.

It's our old friend the supernatural spirit genius again.
(And yes, "Is it you?" and "Are you there?" are pointless things to shout when you suspect there is someone in your room, along with "Come out, wherever you are" -- and yet people do, despite the fact that if there is an intruder present he obviously isn't going to answer...)


Another interesting fact: Raoul is in the habit of keeping a loaded revolver in his bedroom (and apparently is not a bad shot, if he is confident of being able to shoot a man between the eyes in the dark). Coupled with climbing down a snow-laden tree outside the inn window at Perros-Guirec, this suggests that, while he may appear young for his age, his nautical training has left him tougher than he is generally given credit for. (After all, we are told that he came out among the top of his class on the old Borda!)

De Mattos, as usual, has cut some of Raoul's interior monologue during this brief scene -- along with a few incidental details, like the mention that Raoul got out of bed in his night-shirt (no wonder, as Leroux says, 'having thus armed himself, he opened the window. The night was extremely cold. Raoul took just enough time to cast a glance up and down the deserted balcony before retreating and closing the window again' -- or, as de Mattos abridges it: "He opened the balcony window, looked out, saw nothing and closed the window again" (why do you do this, O translator, why?))

If it really was Erik and he can see in the dark, why did he stand still to be shot at when he could see Raoul aming at him? Did he think Raoul wouldn't have the courage to fire?
(Maybe he did move at the last minute, and Raoul's shot clipped him in the ear; that would bleed a lot and yet do no significant damage, while not being obvious later... especially when he is wearing a mask!)


There's this lovely scene where the Comte rushes in to Raoul's room after hearing the gunshot, obviously very worried (and, on discovering him unharmed, quickly confiscates the revolver before his little brother can fire at any more spectres of his imagination ;-p)
And keeps telling him to wake up, on the assumption that if Raoul is babbling such disjointed nonsense then he is clearly still half-asleep...

Also, stars??? Raoul, that's a terrible excuse if you were trying to make one.

It's de Mattos' abridgement again. Leroux describes the eyes as 'golden stars', and has Raoul speculate immediately before he fires as to whether the stars were eyes, and aim 'a little above the two stars'. "He stared at those two golden stars which continued to regard him with a strange fixed gleam".

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.
I doubt it would have been a four-poster in a modern town-house of the 1880s (but on the other hand, Raoul does, in the French, specify that he should have drawn the window-curtains, implying the potential existence of other curtains).

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 :(

Interesting point, although I think Leroux here is aiming more for the idea that of course, we, the privileged audience, understand the sense behind Raoul's cryptic allusions, but those who were not in the know naturally assumed he was off his rocker... Poor Raoul is about to learn why Christine *didn't* attempt to confide in anyone -- save once, to Raoul himself at the masquerade, and Raoul managed to torpedo that attempt :-(

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?

I'm afraid I think giving Erik a pet is simply intended to make him an easier character for the readers to identify with (like the versions that have him riding a big muscular stallion with prominent dangly boy-parts... subtle, or what? Never mind that nobody actually used a stallion as a saddle-horse for choice, for obvious reasons...)

Look how Erik loves animals, thus proving what a big softy he is at heart ;-p

And a cat has the advantage of being a fairly stand-off-ish animal, as it's hard to imagine any version of Erik taking adequate care of a dog while lavishing the same amount of needy devotion on Christine.

[zellephantom]

I've found that scenes that are random and basically pointless to the ongoing plot, or otherwise regarded as filler, are either surprisingly really good character moments (another example that comes to mind is Tales of Ba Sing Se from Avatar: The Last Airbender) or very boring and skippable as one might expect.

I guess people just yell 'Is it you?' for the drama XD

I wonder why Raoul's in the habit of keeping a loaded revolver in his bedroom? Did this start before Erik, or was it after his discovery of Erik's existence in a 'better safe than sorry' move?

Even though almost everyone, friend or foe, seems to regard Raoul with some degree of pity, those examples show that Raoul is indeed very physically capable and likely able to hold his own in a fight (if things came to it, he'd probably do well with the pistols the Persian brought when they went to rescue Christine). So I guess his young face + outbursts of emotional immaturity cause people to automatically assume he's fragile, like when "the dowagers of the Faubourg Saint-Germain were pitying the handsome and apparently delicate stripling for the hard work in store for him."?

That probably was what Leroux was aiming for, but I could also see it my way, in that Raoul is in a delicate state of mind given how much he's obsessing over Erik, to the exclusion of almost everything else (even Christine's possible negative reaction to him shooting Erik), and seeing Erik in places where he might not actually be, enough that he's disregarding how this violent single-mindedness would seem quite disturbing to those around him not in the know, leaving his mind more vulnerable than it would be normally.

Aaaand of course the potential explanation that comes from careful analysis of the source text is probably just a textbook ploy to have a shortcut to a more sympathetic Erik :P

I... had not made that connection as a reason behind Erik with a horse before, though it does make a disturbing amount of sense- personally, I'd wondered if it was more of an overlap in demographic between women who were horse girls when they were younger and also big fans of Erik as a love interest. Erik with a pet horse that he keeps on hand, instead of "borrowing" Cesar when the occasion requires it, just strikes me as remarkably impractical, especially when there are stables and grooms already there at the opera house. Do they ever consider that Erik would have to muck out the stable himself?? (Plus provide some form of four-legged companionship to keep the horse in good spirits, not to mention figure out a way to fit a stable into his underground domain so that it wouldn't stink up the place and the sound of horse noises wouldn't draw too much attention?)

I much prefer the headcanon of even animals being avoidant and fearful of Erik, what with his smelling of death and all, to further highlight the loneliness of his situation and his estrangement from society and companionship.

[igenlode]

Somehow I just don't get the impression that the revolver is Erik-related, or even recently acquired -- but Leroux doesn't say anything at all about where it came from, or why. It's just there.

Alors il courut, en chemise, à un petit meuble dans lequel il saisit à tâtons un revolver

"He ran in his nightshirt to a small piece of furniture [completely non-specific in the French!] in/on which he groped for a revolver". And that's the first and pretty much the last that we hear of it -- he doesn't see fit to bring a revolver to the Opera with him for protection the following evening, for example (although he may have taken the precaution of having a gun in the coach along with the other necessities for the journey, since he is concerned about the possibilities of pursuit... but if so, Leroux doesn't mention that either).

Raoul simply hasn't been under the impression that he personally is under threat, let alone that his rival is likely to break into the house and attack him in his bed -- after all, up until that very evening, he had known nothing about Erik at all, other than a name and Christine's insistence that his rival lives 'down below' amid her fear of the trap-doors. He'd previously been imagining him as a very 'human' rival: some man-about-town who takes her driving to make out in the park after dark and plans to take her off the stage and install her in a snug little apartment, or some smarmy singer or backstage musician at the Opera -- someone like Gabriel the chorus-master -- who has laid covetous eyes on her in the corridors and conceived this scheme to entrap her through her art. He has no reason to jump to the conclusion that Christine has been imprisoned by a deformed lunatic with superhuman powers, still less (since only the Persian knows it) that Erik is an assassin trained in the arts of the Orient who can kill silently and has the blood of countless men and women on his hands.

He might buy a pair of long-barrelled duelling-pistols like the ones the Persian produces, with a hazy idea of somehow forcing an encounter on his unknown rival within the social norms. But surely he isn't going to buy a revolver for defence against some anticipated assassination... let alone then subsequently leave it behind in his bedroom? (For he never produces it at any other time, not when hunting Erik through the darkened church or when swearing to Christine that he will kill the monster in repayment for his treatment of her or when assuring her of his protection after she trembles at the traps...)

On the other hand, it seems a weird thing to have noncommittally lying around (presumably in a drawer rather than on the top of an occasional-table or something?)
Does Comte Philippe keep a loaded gun in his bedchamber too? Is the house full of weapons stashed away? ;-p

And one odd detail is that Leroux implies, back at the beginning, that Raoul has never been to Paris before -- Philippe is said to be taking advantage of Raoul's long leave pour lui montrer Paris, que celui-ci ignorait à peu près dans ce qu'il peut offrir de joie luxueuse et de plaisir artistique, "to show him the luxurious pleasures and artistic delights of Paris, of which he [Raoul] knew almost nothing". It's ambiguous; I'd remembered it as saying that Raoul, having been brought up (presumably) on their father's country estates, then orphaned and sent to live in Brest, then entered into the naval academy there, knew nothing about Paris and its sophistications, but it could be interpreted as meaning that Raoul had been to Paris, but as a child too young to appreciate its more decadent delights.

But if he *hasn't* been in residence in Paris before, then the gun is unlikely to be something that, for example, had been a prized possession in his teens and then left forgotten in a drawer. Either he brought it with him from his ship (part of his naval equipment? Presumably it was as a cadet in Brest that he learned to shoot) or he has acquired it since his arrival -- and somehow it doesn't seem like the sort of thing he would pick up while Philippe, always so socially poised and "incapable of setting his brother a bad example" took him with him to all the places where a man of their rank should be seen if he was to be considered a true Parisian...

Frankly, I assume that Leroux simply thought it would be a nice image to have a gunshot in this scene, and decided to insert Chekhov's Non-Gun (the one that doesn't hang on the wall in the first act ;-D)


I'm not sure about Raoul's being 'very physically capable' and able to hold his own in a fight -- because everyone keeps calling him 'little' and he is described as fragile-seeming in the opening chapters, my mental image is that he is probably small and relatively slender in build, even if he is physically agile (and despite the fact that Philippe is apparently over the average height). In a confrontation between Raoul, who has yet to attain his adult musculature and probably has no idea how to fight dirty, and Erik, who is a full-grown man with no qualms of conscience, and who may be stringy and of no more than medium height but whose clutch is hideously strong, I don't think Raoul would have a chance. In another ten years the age difference might be sufficient to tip the balance (Erik's mother's furniture, presumably from his childhood, dates back to the Louis-Philippe era (1830-48), and the reference to the Shah's war against Afghanistan dates Erik's time in Persia to around 1856, thirty years before the probable date of the story; at some point prior to that he had already visited India and learned the art of the Punjab cord, so it seems reasonable to assume that he is at least fifty), but even so I think an aging but dangerous Phantom would still be someone you definitely didn't want to meet at close quarters.

Aaaand of course the potential explanation that comes from careful analysis of the source text is probably just a textbook ploy to have a shortcut to a more sympathetic Erik :P

I'm not clear which bit of the analysis applies to "a more sympathetic Erik" (he's pretty creepy in this chapter -- literally implied to be the monster under the bed!) The fact that he was presumably in a position to kill Raoul (even from what proved to be outside the window?), but didn't? The fact that he could presumably see Raoul aiming a gun at him, but didn't react?


It wasn't so much the horse as such that I found improbable in fan-fiction. After all, we know that he *does* canonically abduct a horse for Christine's comfort, or at least in order to make it easier to transport her -- carrying her down to the basement slung over his shoulder would be pretty undignified, not to mention antagonising her.
(One thing that does occur to me that I hadn't really envisioned before is that Erik could not possibly have taken Christine on horseback along the route followed by Raoul and the Persian when they, in their turn, penetrate beyond the mirror; the very first thing the Persian does is drop down through a trap-door ;-p)

No, it was more the fan-authors' fixation having Erik bestriding a stallion when they write an AU Erik with a life outside the basement; Erik, as a Manly Man and the designated romantic interest, naturally has to be identified with a virile mount ;-P
Whereas Cesar, for instance, would certainly *not* have been a stallion; nobody would want an uncut horse prancing around on stage every time a mare came into season, which goes for pretty much any working animal. There used to be stallion-men who would go round the country with their prized stud animals serving any mare whose owner wanted to breed from her; the Comte de Chagny may have kept a stallion or two down in the country if he took an interest in horse-breeding. But nobody would have any use for an uncut stallion unless he had mares from which he wanted foals, just as no riding-school nowadays puts its pupils on anything but a reliable gelding.

(I suppose it's possible that they put Erik on a stallion to show what a superb horseman he must be, in order to be able to control the animal without becoming a public nuisance... but I think it's got a lot more to do with romantic novel clichés. And possibly a misapprehension about horse reproductive equipment; a gelding is every bit as lavishly endowed in that department, as is very obvious to anyone who has ever watched a male horse make water!)

I have a feeling the Opera stables actually were underground (like underground car parks in modern buildings), although if so it would have made the task of exercising the horses daily even more important. Not so far underground as Erik's domain, however -- if he kept a horse down there long enough it would end up as blind as a pit-pony :-P

I much prefer the headcanon of even animals being avoidant and fearful of Erik, what with his smelling of death and all, to further highlight the loneliness of his situation and his estrangement from society and companionship.

Yes, you'd really think that the smell ought to make animals nervous of Erik; but Cesar, well-trained animal that he is, appears entirely unperturbed. Leroux even says that Erik doesn't even lead him; Erik's hands are occupied in holding the drugged Christine on the horse's back and Cesar walks on, sure-footed and without guidance.
He is clearly entirely at ease in Erik's company. (And it can't be all that easy to steal a horse, either; Cesar presumably allowed himself to be led out of his stable by someone he trusted as a competent and reliable human, which implies that Erik knew how to handle a strange horse without alarming it.)

[zellephantom]

Checkov's Non-Gun is an excellent way to describe it XD Almost reminds me of how some American fic writers in the Harry Potter fandom are entirely unaware of UK gun laws and assume that Hermione can just go out to a store and buy one so that she can shoot Voldemort, because if Hermione's so smart, surely she'd take the easiest course of action to defeat him...

Good point- guess I extrapolated a little too far based on his handiness with a pistol, his accomplishments on the Borda, and his climbing out the inn window and down the tree at Perros-Guirec.

I don't know how much basis there is for it in the text, but I always pictured Erik as relying on his weapons like the Punjab cord or stealth and tricks in order to end fights before they've even really begun, and that while he can grapple hand-to-hand, he prefers not to unless he has no other options. But, true, his lack of moral scruples when compared to Raoul does make him a much more dangerous opponent.

Oh, the bit of the analysis that relates to a more sympathetic Erik is in regards to my point where I was wondering if authors give Erik an animal companion like a cat based on an interpretation of this scene that it was not Erik, but it was his pet doing his bidding by bothering Raoul, as opposed to when you made the more likely point that it's probably just an easy way to make Erik sympathetic to the audience to show that he's really a softy deep down. Hope that makes sense!

Ah, the nuance between gelded and ungelded male horses. And now I'm picturing an underground car park full of horses standing neatly between the lines! Cesar must be exceptionally calm and well-trained- I wonder if Erik visited him a couple times before stealing him, so Cesar would recognize him and not panic, or, if this was his first time encountering Erik, how did Erik get so good around horses?

Sometimes I think certain fic writers write Erik as basically a more edgy, music-loving Mr. Darcy... (And a misinterpretation of Darcy at that, where Elizabeth was convinced to marry him based on the wonders of Pemberley, and should have accepted his proposal in the first place because of that!)

[igenlode]

I don't know how much basis there is for it in the text, but I always pictured Erik as relying on his weapons like the Punjab cord or stealth and tricks in order to end fights before they've even really begun, and that while he can grapple hand-to-hand, he prefers not to unless he has no other options. But, true, his lack of moral scruples when compared to Raoul does make him a much more dangerous opponent.

I strongly doubt whether Raoul has ever actually killed anybody, which tends to be a pretty major mental barrier. (If he has, it will only have been through cannonading some faceless natives as part of his graduation voyage.)

If it were a question of a formal duel with pistols, Raoul would probably stand a reasonable chance. But Erik is never going to be stupid enough to subject himself to anything of the sort; the odds are that the duel would end by some trick before it had ever begun.
(Here's a story from out of my collection where Raoul does attempt to challenge Erik to a duel, with predictable consequences: I Fought So Hard to Free You)


Oh, the bit of the analysis that relates to a more sympathetic Erik is in regards to my point where I was wondering if authors give Erik an animal companion like a cat based on an interpretation of this scene that it was not Erik, but it was his pet doing his bidding by bothering Raoul, as opposed to when you made the more likely point that it's probably just an easy way to make Erik sympathetic to the audience to show that he's really a softy deep down.

The idea that Raoul's nocturnal visitor is actually Erik's cat sent to play mind-games with the young Vicomte is a fascinating one (and the potential seed of a crack-fic, if you feel like writing it!), but it's not something that I've ever encountered in fan-fiction.
I imagine Kay's idea in giving Erik a cat was to provide him with someone to interact with during the period before Christine turns up (in Leroux, he only actually gives lessons to Christine for the space of a few months, but he has been living under the Opera for over ten years) -- and, of course, to humanise him via those interactions. But I'm sure the choice of a snooty, stand-offish Siamese who resents Christine's arrival was intended to say all sorts of things (and possibly, via her jealousy, to depict him as a potential target of desire)...

Cesar must be exceptionally calm and well-trained- I wonder if Erik visited him a couple times before stealing him, so Cesar would recognize him and not panic, or, if this was his first time encountering Erik, how did Erik get so good around horses?

Well, Cesar *is* an opera horse, used to all sorts of loud noises, lurid costumes, bright lights, and yawning black spaces just over the edge of the stage -- presumably they have to be as 'bomb-proof' in temperament as police-horses, since the consequences of a panicking horse on stage could get pretty dire pretty quickly!

Maybe Erik learnt the art of horse-whispering during his higher education "at the very wellspring of art and magic among the gypsies"? (Erik holds a degree from the University of Life :-p)

Sometimes I think certain fic writers write Erik as basically a more edgy, music-loving Mr. Darcy... (And a misinterpretation of Darcy at that, where Elizabeth was convinced to marry him based on the wonders of Pemberley, and should have accepted his proposal in the first place because of that!)

I don't think the actual Darcy has much to do with it, other than that they have been convinced that he is somehow the epitome of romance (it's hard to see why, objectively speaking...) It's more an amalgam of every Mills & Boon bodice-ripper trope they've ever come across, with a token deformity slapped onto the clean-cut features so that we know who the character is supposed to be -- but not enough to prevent him wearing tight trousers and an open shirt and from being Really Hot, of course ;-p
(Oops, did I just describe Gerard Butler's Phantom? ;-D)

Basically, they write 'Erik' as their idea of the ideal romantic partner -- like the people (far fewer) who portray a generic 'good-guy' Raoul who functions as the perfect 21st-century boyfriend and father, naturally insists on being his wife's birthing partner, and is completely nondescript as a human being. He simply exists in order to tick all the required moral boxes for their Tumblr feed.