So far Phantom of the Opera is good
in my opinion. I sort of remember the basic plot from when I read it a few
years ago, but I forgot the details.
I definitely forgot how often the Phantom
is described before he actually physically appears to interact with any of the
main characters in the book, and I also forgot how he is described. Like when the ballet girl Jammes points out
the Phantom’s face and the narrator says that she points to “a face so pallid,
so lugubrious and so ugly, with two such deep black cavities under the
straddling eyebrows” (27). I’ve always wondered why his eyes are described like
that, since later on, if I’m not mistaken, he’s said to have no visible eyes.
Why do you think his eyes are unrecognizable?
As for Christine’s interactions with the
Phantom, when she’s talking with him in her dressing room, I don’t think she
loves him at all, though I know there are people who think otherwise. When he
asks her if she loves him, she clearly avoids giving a direct answer, instead
saying “How can you talk like that?” (24).
My other question about the Phantom
himself is, when the ghost appears at the dinner table with the managers and
their guests, they recall the late Joseph Buquet’s description and notice that
“according to the storu, the ghost had no nose and the person in question [at
the table] had” (29). Do you think the stories don’t match up because, like the
narrator suggests a few sentences later, he might have a fake nose, or are
there so many stories about the ghost no one knows when they’re actually seeing
him?
Hey Rachel. I agree, I've been a fan of Phantom of the Opera ever since I was a little kid and I watched the movie with my cousins. The book is great.
ReplyDeleteI believe the lack of continuity regarding the Phantom's appearance is entirely intentional. While this may cause the reader to be removed from the story, it abstracts the Phantom. Not having a concrete description of the Phantom forces the audience to use their imagination, and as we know, the theater of the mind is far worse than anything Leroux could have described to us. Everything about the Phantom is, as the ballerinas observe, "unsatisfactory and mysterious" (66). Additionally, it dehumanizes Erik. As we know, Erik is a human being with a deformity. However, rumors of the opera house function in robbing him of his humanity and liken him to a myth (example given, Bigfoot or Dracula), a common symbol in the story.
The question I have for you is, if you were to recommend this book to someone, what genre would you consider it? I love Phantom of the Opera, but I never know how to describe it. There is a very Victorian Gothic feel to it, but some scenes are intentionally comical. For a Gothic horror-romance the line, "At that moment, at that identical moment, the terrible thing happened. ...Carlotta croaked like a toad: 'Co-ack!!'" seems very out of place. What genre is Phantom? Why is the narrative so goofy at times?
Hey Verity. In response to your question, I agree that Phantom is hard to put into one genre. It has the feel of a Gothic-style horror story, although romantic and comedic elements are brought in through Raoul and Christine’s reunion after being childhood friends and the dark humor of Erik himself.
DeleteI guess I’d place it in Gothic horror, since that’s the overwhelming feeling I get, since everyone in the book sees the opera ghost everywhere. Even Raoul thinks he sees Erik when he’s trying to sleep, and “a cold sweat poured from his temples. Two eyes, like blazing coals, had appeared at the foot of the bed” (135). Erik, or the ghost to the people at the opera house, haunts all of the characters, so the horror feeling is ever-present, while the comedy and romance are only in certain moments.
One thing I’ve never understood about Phantom is how Erik gets Christine out of her dressing room without her knowing how she got out. When she’s talking to Raoul about going down to with Erik to the lake under the opera house, she says “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!” (118). How did Erik get into the room, or get her out of it, without her understanding? What sort of “effect of mirrors” could he have done to make the room seem like it was lengthening out? That’s something that’s always bothered me.
I think you're right about Phantom being a Gothic horror story. It makes me wonder if Leroux purposefully wrote Phantom to defy genres. It's possible, as Phantom seems to cover all the bases in a way that no other story has.
DeleteRegarding the mirror effect, I believe Leroux chose this explanation for the same reason he kept the Erik's description inconsistent. The more vague and inconsistent the author is, the more the audience must imagine what happened. Everything about the Phantom from his ability to break the laws of physics to his abstract appearance dehumanizes Erik from the reader. This is why, when Raoul shoots at Erik and blood is clearly visible, we are told "Blood!... Blood!..... Here, there, more blood!... That's a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!" (119). Up until this point, we are supposed to fear Erik. He is written in such a way that we do not believe he fits what we consider reality. When it is discovered that he bleeds, that image is broken and we learn that he, to some extent, is human.
Keeping that in mind, do you feel sympathy for Erik? I believe that Leroux at first wanted us to fear him at first, but eventually come around as the story progresses. Consequently, I believe that Raoul is slowing progressing to be the villain of the story. Especially evident in the scene where Erik is (supposedly) shot, Raoul displays evidence of going mad with vengeance toward the Phantom. He is even told outright by the count, "You're raving! Are you ill?" (119). His lust for revenge is haunting. Do you believe Raoul is the villain of the story, or is it Erik? What do you think were Leroux's intentions?
I agree with you that we as readers are supposed to fear Erik for most of the story, and I do think he’s supposed to be a sort of pitiable character towards the end. I do pity in him sometimes, like when Christine tells Raoul, “he fell at my feet…with words of love in his dead mouth…He kissed the hem of my dress and did not see that I closed my eyes” (128). It’s sad how much he grovels after yelling at her and tries in vain to get her to love him when she won’t.
DeleteI’ve never thought of the story in a light with Raoul as the villain of the story, although I can kind of see it. I’ve always thought that Christine was honestly too good for both Raoul and Erik, but I have to give Raoul credit for going with the Persian to get Christine out of the lake house.
On the topic of the Persian, what do you think of his relationship with Erik? It seems pretty complex to me, since when Raoul asks if he hates Erik the Persian’s only response is “No…I do not hate him. If I hated him, he would long ago have ceased doing harm” (181). Considering they have a past unexplored in the book, what are your guesses to what that answer might mean? The Persian also says that Erik has caused him harm, but that he has “forgiven the harm” (182) but he also mainly refers to Erik as “the monster” (179). What do you make of this?
That's an interesting question.
DeleteThe Persian is definitely a mysterious man--we don't even know his real name. However, I think things become a bit clearer around chapter 21 "Interesting and Instructive Vicissitudes of a Persian in the Cellars of the Paris Opera”. When the Persian recollects that "he already satisfied [the Persian's] curiosity, for Erik, who is a real monster--[he had] seen him work in Persia, alas-- is also, in certain respects, a regular child, vain and self-conceited, and there is nothing he loves so much, after astonishing people, as to prove all the really miraculous ingenuity of his mind" (179). The Persian is, out of all the characters in Phantom of the Opera, the most familiar with Erik as a human being. Further, the Persian refers to Erik as though they are friends when speaking directly to him on page 212, "You know what you promised me, Erik? No more murders!”
I think the Persian serves as a foil for Erik. He, just like everyone else at the opera house, fears Erik to some extent & believes him to be a monster. However, unlike Christine or Raoul or even Madame Giry, he is actually familiar with who Erik used to be in Persia.
On that note, why do you think Christine even tolerates him? She tells Raoul that Erik "fills [her] with horror and [she does] not hate him. How [could she] hate him[...]? Think of Erik at [her] feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores [her] forgiveness!" (130). How can this be? He's a mass murderer; how can she still love him? Do you think Christine is only feeling pity for him, or is this an example of Stockholm syndrome?
I think Christine’s relationship with Erik is multifaceted. On one hand, he takes on the role of the Angel of Music, so I think she connects him with her father at first. Since her father was all she had, I think when she found out who Erik really was, that connection to him made it harder for her to leave.
DeleteI think of it more like an abusive relationship though than full-on Stockholm syndrome, because she wants to leave but she can’t, as opposed to growing used to the relationship. When she sees Erik’s face for the first time he screams at her and threatens her, saying “now that you know my hideousness, you would run away for good…So I shall keep you here!” (128), but in the next paragraph he’s groveling and sobbing for her forgiveness. He terrifies her, but she doesn’t know how to leave.
What do you think about Erik letting her go with Raoul at the end though? He forces her into an ultimatum of being his wife or making sure that everyone at the opera will be “dead and buried” (237), but in the last chapter Erik explains that he let Raoul go for Christine explaining to her “I know you love the boy” (251-252). Why the sudden change?
I remember seeing a theory somewhere that since Erik’s mother was cruel to him, he had a need for approval from a woman in his life and that it’s what he sought in Christine. Do you think it’s true? I think it would explain why he’s able to finally let her go after she accepts his proposal, since he makes a big deal of telling the Persian that he “had always seen [his] dead wife; it was the first time [he] saw [his] living wife…she was sincere” (250). Do you think that her acceptance of being his and staying by his side is what makes him able to let go?
I think so. In a strange way, I believe Erik has recognized his fate will never be with Christine when he sees how disheartened she is. He recalls that he "was only a poor dog" (224) when he sees how upset Christine is. He seems to have had an immediate reflex upon seeing Christine distressed-- he instantly wants to help her. In this case, however, I think Erik realizes at last that the problem is him. This is the conclusion to Erik's entire character arc; he is truly able to help Christine and ask nothing in return.
DeleteI believe this is Erik's first and only act of selflessness. Even in other situations when he's "helped" Christine (for example, manipulating people of the opera house into giving Christine starring roles) had, at their heart, a selfish ambition. By letting Christine go free in fear that "IT MIGHT BE VERY DANGEROUS TO [Christine's] HEALTH" (220), Erik is putting the desires of another person above his for the first time in the novel.
This unselfish action concludes the character arc and sympathy we are supposed to feel for Erik. We are supposed to feel remorse for Erik's broken heart (221), but also regret that he has not chosen a humble route sooner. If he had only been so humble earlier in the story, perhaps Christine would love him. Perhaps things would have been different. This is what makes Phantom of the Opera so distressing.