Jealousy

Jealousy has been on my mind lately. It’s another emotion in the Phantom of the Opera, which I like to call our psychological playground. You may not be struggling with jealousy presently, but as humans, it does occasionally knock on each of our doors wearing different masks. Do you see any jealousy lurking around the Opera House?

Before you cringe thinking I am about to preach, relax. It’s just a quote, however, the Bible can be a hot book. There are quite a few seductive love stories hidden inside. One verse in the book of Song of Solomon has a very poignant statement about jealousy. For those of you who don’t know, that’s the book about love and sex written by the king who had 700 wives and 300 concubines. He must have had some first-hand knowledge on the subject to write the following:

For love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame. (Song of Solomon 8:6)

I like another translation that says, “jealousy is as hard and cruel” as death or the grave.

Jealousy is a strong emotion. It drives men to kill, war, steal, duel, and fight – just to name a few. Jealousy, as I think about it in the context of romantic love, is resentment against a rival for another’s affection. Certainly that was the case between the Phantom and Raoul, for both were in the love with the same woman, both were rivals for her affection, and both possessed qualities the other did not that drew Christine to each of them in different ways.

I have no doubt that Erik felt intense jealousy toward Raoul, his rival, for Christine’s affection. Raoul represented all that Erik did not possess – beauty, wealth, and title. The Phantom could offer none of these things to Christine. Yet oddly enough, the Phantom possessed qualities that Raoul lacked, that being music and passion. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Patrick Wilson stated in an interview that as he watched Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler play out the scene the Point of No Return, he found it quite difficult to watch. There was a jealousy as Raoul realized the obvious passionate attraction between the two.

Jealousy is a consuming emotion that burns like a mighty flame. Unfortunately, it’s the possessor of jealousy who ends up consumed by the very emotion they embrace. It is unyielding, hard to appease, and cruel as the grave. It’s an emotion that is draining and useless, and it takes a mature individual to realize that it’s one emotion not worth the price tag. Our dear Phantom, however, was consumed by it, ultimately paid the price trying to obtain from a rival that which was not his to have.

I think all of us as humans have been touched with jealousy in one way or the other. Perhaps not the overwhelming jealousy surrounding romantic love, but the subtle jealousy of envy and resentment towards what others possess, whether or not we deem them our rivals. It’s probably best when jealousy comes knocking at your door, take a quick glance, check the price tag, and say you’re not interested. Better to turn away the cruel emotion rather than to embrace it and be consumed.

Sincerely,

The Phantom's Student

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Phantom

Do you realize I have put 28 posts on this blog and have not talked about the Phantom of the Opera? I have talked about Erik (his humanity) and the Opera Ghost (his persona), but not the Phantom of the Opera. Ooh, sounds mysterious! That’s preciously the point.

I find it quite interesting after searching my PDF version of Gaston Leroux’s book sitting upon my computer desktop, that Leroux only uses the term Phantom twice in the entire work. Once in the title and once in the introduction, as follows:

“Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.”

In the remainder of the book, the Phantom is referred to either as the Opera Ghost or Erik. Leroux is telling us that he existed in flesh and blood, but assumed the appearance of a phantom – a spectral shade – a ghost with a shadowlike appearance. Pull out the dictionary and you’ll find phantom refers to something with no substantial existence! So is he or isn’t he? Is he real or ghost? Is he man or phantom? Perhaps as Erik lurks around the Opera House, he wants to leave that question with you.

In Webber’s play and movie, the term Phantom of the Opera is used by a few characters, but not all. Meg, Christine, and Raoul call him the Phantom. Of course, Meg and Christine have an upfront personal knowledge he exists and they are good at screaming it's the Phantom of the Opera. Our dear, Raoul, however, says he’s a fable and doesn’t exist, but later, of course, changes his mind with the noose around his neck. Then years later the auctioneer recalls a strange affair of the Phantom. Erik, aka Opera Ghost, calls himself the Phantom in Webber’s version, shouting on the rooftop between the angel wings that they’d all be sorry for not doing what the Phantom asked them to do.

So why did Leroux coin the name anyway the Phantom of the Opera? Why didn’t he just name the book the "Illusive Opera Ghost" or "Erik the Madman in the Opera Cellars"? (I can hear my Leroux friends moaning at me now!) I thought it was a rational question to ask. Wouldn’t you? Is Leroux teasing us with the same question since he keeps telling us he really existed, but in the next breath refers to him as a spectral shade, apparent to the sense but doesn’t exist? Somebody make up their mind!

We have Erik, and his humanity, the man we examined behind the mask who touches the core of our hearts with his inward pain. Then we have the Opera Ghost, his persona, the projection he gives to the world when he allows you to see him, reminding you he’s walking death on the outside. Then behind the scenes, lurking in the shadows, out of public view, he takes on the appearance of a phantom, the ultimate cover or disguise making you question whether he’s real or not. All this strange speculation about his existence gives birth to the mysterious fables about the Phantom of the Opera.

Sometimes I feel like a phantom myself behind my mask as the Phantom’s Student. Sort of an off-the-wall name to pick for myself, frankly. I guess I wanted to hide, make you guess whether I was real or not, and assume the appearance of a spectral shade. Of course, you all know I’m real! Huh, you think a ghost could write such stuff? I call myself a student though, because my journey through the Phantom world has taught me much. It’s caused me to search myself inwardly, and turn around my own lessons to share with others, so I can poke and pick at each of you!

So yeah, I’m real - just hiding behind my mask, lurking in the shadows of Google-land and making occasional appearances when I feel up to it. I’m sure of all us in one way or another sometimes play the phantom role in our own lives. Haven’t you ever heard anyone coin the phrase, “Is that guy for real?” Maybe that’s where it came from, the Phantom of the Opera.

Cheers,
The Phantom’s Student

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Loss

Another aspect of human pain I see within the Phantom of the Opera is that of loss. It is part of the human condition, and it visits each of us one way or the other as we walk this earth. We can lose things, relationships, and loved ones. Each instance of loss carries disappointment, but some instances of loss carry great pain and suffering. Loss affects our lives deeply. It steals our joy, ruins our hope, and brings despondency to our hearts. In dealing with the pain, we can lose part of ourselves in the process as well.

What losses are woven into the story of the Phantom of the Opera? Leroux speaks of Christine’s loss as a child that stole the song from her heart. “She seemed to have lost with him {her father}, her voice, her soul and her genius.” It affected the way she looked at life, for “…she acquired a distaste of everything in life, including her art.” Raoul suffered a series of personal family losses. Then, of course, Erik lost Christine to Raoul. The tale is filled with instances of loss, not only touching the main characters, but also others as you look behind their stories.

Loss is simply something we once possessed that is no longer ours. We can lose things that may be important to us, but things can be replaced simply by buying another. We can lose relationships, but relationships can usually be replaced as others come across our path and into our lives to fill the void. However, it is the losses in our lives that are irreplaceable that affect us the deepest. In those losses, we have the potential of losing part of ourselves in the process of dealing with them.

What helps us through loss? Often it takes others intervening in our lives to restore that part of us lost in the process of grieving. For Christine, the Angel of Music returned her desire to sing, giving back her voice and birthing in her the genius to be a great singer. Through a series of personal heartaches, I lost the desire to write for many years, until I came across a dear mentor who flamed the smoldering ashes in my heart pushing me to pick up a pen. In a similar way, I lost my laughter, until recently when another individual touched me through simple written words on a page that made me laugh.

Though we all have losses in our lives, we all have much to gain in the process of restoration, such as comfort, new friends, and kindness shown to us by others. In our own losses, we also have opportunities to give back to others who experience the same losses we have. We learn to weep with those who weep, and ultimately comfort others with the same comfort given to us. I truly believe, as well, that through our darkest loss in life, our own greatest achievements are born from within our souls.

Another post to reflect upon.

Sincerely,
The Phantom’s Student

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Illusion

In the past few months, I've braved the world of role playing on MySpace as Christine Daae. If you want to role play the Phantom of the Opera, you pretty much have to profile yourself as a Phantom or Christine to get any attention.

If you're not familiar with role playing, most role players are anonymous. You never know who you are playing with at the other end of the cyber network. Frankly, I was terrified to try this form of entertainment, but pushed myself during the months I was taking an advanced fiction writing class. My instructor even encouraged the behavior as an excellent way to keep my pen flowing every day by forcing myself to write character and storyline. I have met some absolutely amazing writers who pen themselves in circles around me; and, frankly, I think are much too tolerant of my dabbling in the area of fiction.

Do I enjoy it? Yes, but I'm cautious. It certainly brings you into a world of illusion - a make believe place that isn't real. I've sucked my brain into Christine Daae's body -- love her body and looks, but not too keen on her brain. I'm molding my Christine the way I wish her to be, not the Christine I've dissected in my posts -- one who used and betrayed two men. My Christine contains a huge amount of myself woven into her character, only because it enables me to birth my writing from my heart.

If I've learned anything in role playing, illusion is a powerful medium of control. It can take you to a place that brings strange comfort, but also great danger. After reading enough psychology articles on the subject, I've come close to throwing in my pen afraid I'll take this entire world I've created too seriously. So why do I continue? I stumbled across this quote last week regarding illusion, which explains part of why continue to login every day and post another thought on behalf of my make-believe Christine Daae:

"Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort." (Jean Cocteau)

I'm taking you down a road to make a point regarding our dear Erik, so you can recognize the world of illusion he built around his own life. What were those illusions? His mask, for one, was an illusion. He designed and molded a mask that would hide his appearance and make him look like anyone else. He designed and created a home for himself under the Opera Populaire, an illusion of normalcy. He dressed a wax figure of Christine in a wedding dress, creating illusion of Christine being his wife. The world of illusion led him down a road of obsession. (If you have not read my post regarding obsession, I encourage you to do so.) The Phantom not only used illusion to comfort himself, he used illusion to control others. The entire Opera House was an illusion, filled with secret passageways and trap doors to catch the unsuspecting, which he help design and build for his own use.

So what is illusion? If you need a cold hard dictionary definition, it's basically something that deceives. Illusion produces a false or misleading impression of reality. You may not believe your own life is influenced by illusion, but I assure you it is. Every time you watch a movie, read a book, wish you could fall in love with the Phantom or be a Christine Daae, you've left reality and crossed into illusion.

Why do we do it? Creating illusion through storytelling is nothing new. It's been around for centuries as a tool humans use to cope. Reality can be harsh, life cruel, living in our world hectic and draining. We find ways to compensate and comfort ourselves. We often find characters we can identify with and hold onto them deluding ourselves in an illusion we are like them, or as in role playing, we live vicariously through the character. Again, buried in the Phantom of the Opera, and embodied in Erik, is another interesting facet of our humanity. He's quite the complex Ghost using illusion and myth to find comfort in his life.

Remember too, the story is an illusion, a character created in the mind of Gaston Leroux, a writer. I know that many believe that Erik truly lived, and I am not here to argue that point or dispel anyone's beliefs or offend anyone by my next statement. However, I find it interesting that Gaston Leroux lived during the Victorian age when magicians and illusionists were enjoying a golden age of their own. It makes me wonder how much of an illusion is woven into the book itself and Leroux's statements that Erik truly lived.


As always,
Your Obedient Servant

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