The Mask and the Muse

With my own novels, the greatest influence has been the theatre. It was on stage that I first beheld the 19th century in the form of musicals - Les Miserables and The Phantom of the Opera.

Although Les Mis has a somewhat happier ending than Phantom, it tells a remarkable epic story with a love triangle in the middle, and several plots. The main plot is between Jean Valjean and Javert, one of the greatest literary villains of all time. Javert is the policeman and he hunts Valjean through the years. He is driven, ruthless, and an absolute authority in his position. Valjean is cunning, compassionate, and does the right thing, if not always with the outcome he expects. He saves both Cosette and Marius from different fates, helps out on the barricades, becomes the mayor of a town, helps the destitute factory worker Fantine, and saves that man from the runaway cart. Even though he evades the law for years, he does so many good things that he is the hero of the novel.

The Phantom Erik, by contrast, is a typical Byronic anti-hero, the Heathcliff pining for his Catherine. He is both blessed and cursed - the gift of music and the disfigurement of his face provide two facets of his personality that are immediately recognizable and that shape his entire life. He secludes himself away beneath the Paris Opera House, preferring to be a ghost with power over his managers. But he is cruel, and murders several people throughout the story. His aching love for Christine is the main plot of the story, with Raoul’s innocent love providing the secondary plot to keep the main plot going. The Phantom manipulates his managers and Carlotta into giving Christine certain roles, propelling her towards stardom. But he can’t let her go and wants her for himself, to hide away in his dungeon forever. If there is a hero in the story, it is probably Raoul, but his personality is very cookie-cutter romance novel-ish, not as fascinating, complex, or deep as the Phantom’s. But the Phantom’s persona of ghoulish murderer is quickly stripped away, to be nothing more than a mask to hide a lifetime of hurt, rejection, and betrayal.

Les Miserables is a story standing on its own, but the musical has certainly cemented its immortality. Otherwise, it might be just another semi-read half-forgotten chunky Victorian novel that people have heard of, but most have no idea what it’s about.

The Phantom of the Opera is a sensation novel from the Edwardian age, a melodramatic pot-boiler thriller that is written with all the pulp of a literary comic book. It does not profess to be great literature, and the pomp and circumstance of the musical certainly plays upon that with its overly dramatic scenes, lavish production stage shows, and epic overture. Even without the musical, its 1920’s film adaptation with Lon Cheney is enough to secure its place in the minds of all those familiar with the story. But the musical kicked life into it in a way that only theatre can - by taking the music out of the imagination and making it real.

With Les Miserables, the music helps tell the story; in Phantom the music is the story. Without the Opera House, there is no story. Without the sound of the Phantom’s voice, the story loses something. Without his voracious organ-playing, his erotic score of Don Juan Triumphant, his singing lessons with his protégé, those character traits are gone.

It is music that gives an emotional depth to a story that otherwise doesn’t exist. If Les Miserables had been just a stage show, it would be different than having all the songs and the constant musical themes running through the show. If the Phantom had been just a novel, then perhaps it might still be just another old-fashioned pulp story. But with both stories, the music and the visuals of costume, props, and sets propel the viewer into the 19th century world of Paris in a way that no history textbook can hope to attain.

If I was a history teacher and we were doing a unit on 19th century Paris, then I would show both musicals. In fact, an entire course of study could be conducted around them both. How do they show Paris? What can we glean from 19th century life from these musicals? What is present? What is missing?

As a child of five and six years old, I drank it in with fervor. I have given up trying to figure out which has been my favorite. They have both influenced me and continue to do so. Neither one is better. Neither, in my life, is complete without the other.