For those of you who have yet to read the The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux, I highly recommend it to you. Do not settle for Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical only, although it is my favorite musical of all time. The original (or translated version of the french original) would give you more insight and depth to the main character, of which I love, Erik.
The book raises some important questions, most crucial would be, does appearance play an important part when it comes to love?
Now, if you haven't guessed by now, I am a hopeless romantic. And since I am in love with THE PHANTOM anyway, of course looks do not matter to me. I should picture myself in Christine's shoes, haunted by the mysterious gorgeous voice that sings beautifully in my ear every waking hour. *sigh
But, really. How do you measure your love for a person? By the look of her cute lopsided smile? His beautiful soulful eyes? Or through the feel of her hand in yours? His heartwarming crooning voice? If we measure love mainly on the physical aspects, then no wonder phantoms never knew love.
So what do you call it then? Say you've never seen her in person, but you know her for herself, and she's every strength you wish for in someone you could love and be loved by. What if he's not exactly what you would call, prince charming, but possess the qualities that made mere physical features seem irrelevant. Perhaps in his emotional toughness and the will to make things happen. Would you call it nothing?
So what do you call it then? When the mere knowledge of his presence, even if it transcends physical and proximity, fills you with enormous pleasure. Every kind word uttered, harsh truth spewed upon the moment, by her and nobody else, seem to echo and resonate every time your thoughts creep on her. Is that nothing?
I could safely say that I would fall for the phantom of the opera and if I were Christine, I would have been happy with him. Even if it seems like pity over him being loveless, this portrayal of compassion should illustrate the idea of unconditional love. To love somebody without asking anything in return, or even needing anything in return, save for that love that brings me joy.
Why? Because I understand him in a way. He was a genius, should angels make the most beautiful sound, he would sing like one. He was an architect, a composer, he made things with his own hands. He had risen above his poor upbringing, to become somebody who would accomplished his goals. Ruthless and calculative, passionate and headstrong. And the only think he was lacking of was someone to share his life with. Nobody was able to look beyond his deformity, despite the genius in him. And that, my dear friends, is a tragedy.
I don't blame him for resulting into violence, perhaps it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Someone with a monstrous face should also have the heart of a monster or perhaps even be heartless. Why not live up to people's expectations for once. Why should he be kind, when nobody has ever shown him what kindness means? Alas, all he ever wanted was someone to love him for himself and nothing more.
My tears were streaming down my cheeks towards the end of the book. I cried for Erik and for all the love I could have for him, given the chance. I cried for my bitterness and for this never-ending search to be loved for myself. I cried because there's nothing more appropriate than to flush out the accumulated frustration.
Anyway, this is a song that I'm working on and it began with the end of Erik.
Here I am, my darling
Why did you turn away
My throat is dry
there's nothing left to say
I'd give you anything
as long as it would bring
water to my lips
your love on my ring
don't say you don't need me
cause' darling, I've known
you want me to leave you
but I won't let go
someday you will learn
to point out the signs
so pour me your love
since you've drunk all of mine
Here I am, my darling
my heart cut in half
rid me of this thirst
love me for myself
I've given you everything
what more do you need?
do not resist me
just follow my lead
don't say you don't need me
cause' darling, I've known
you want me to leave you
but I won't let go
someday you will learn
to point out the signs
so pour me your love
since you've drunk all of mine
It's funny that some people don't see that love should be blind.
Photo courtesy of aboutthelettera.com
