The Phantom of the Opera

G >> Gaston Leroux >> The Phantom of the Opera

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The column was elaborately carved and decorated with the
sculptor's chisel; and I do not despair of one day discovering
the ornament that could be raised or lowered at will, so as to admit
of the ghost's mysterious correspondence with Mme. Giry and of his generosity.

If the reader will visit the Opera one morning and ask leave to stroll
where he pleases, without being accompanied by a stupid guide,
let him go to Box Five and knock with his fist or stick on
the enormous column that separates this from the stage-box. He
will find that the column sounds hollow. After that, do not be
astonished by the suggestion that it was occupied by the voice
of the ghost: there is room inside the column for two men.
If you are surprised that, when the various incidents occurred,
no one turned round to look at the column, you must remember
that it presented the appearance of solid marble, and that----

However, all these discoveries are nothing, to my mind, compared with
that which I was able to make, in the presence of the acting-manager,
in the managers' office, within a couple of inches from the desk-chair,
and which consisted of a trap-door, the width of a board in the flooring
and the length of a man's fore-arm and no longer; a trap-door that
falls back like the lid of a box; a trap-door through which I can
see a hand come and dexterously fumble at the pocket of a swallow-tail coat.

That is the way the forty-thousand francs went!.... And that also
is the way by which, through some trick or other, they were returned.

Speaking about this to the Persian, I said:

"So we may take it, as the forty-thousand francs were returned,
that Erik was simply amusing himself with that memorandum-book
of his?"

"Don't you believe it!" he replied. "Erik wanted money. Thinking himself
without the pale of humanity, he was restrained by no scruples and
he employed his extraordinary gifts of dexterity and imagination,
which he had received by way of compensation for his extraordinary
uglinesss, to prey upon his fellow-men. His reason for restoring
the forty-thousand francs, of his own accord, was that he no longer
wanted it. He had relinquished his marriage with Christine Daae.
He had relinquished everything above the surface of the earth."

According to the Persian's account, Erik was born in a small town
not far from Rouen. He was the son of a master-mason. He ran away at
an early age from his father's house, where his ugliness was a subject
of horror and terror to his parents. For a time, he frequented
the fairs, where a showman exhibited him as the "living corpse."
He seems to have crossed the whole of Europe, from fair to fair,
and to have completed his strange education as an artist and magician
at the very fountain-head of art and magic, among the Gipsies.
A period of Erik's life remained quite obscure. He was seen at the fair
of Nijni-Novgorod, where he displayed himself in all his hideous glory.
He already sang as nobody on this earth had ever sung before; he practised
ventriloquism and gave displays of legerdemain so extraordinary
that the caravans returning to Asia talked about it during the whole
length of their journey. In this way, his reputation penetrated
the walls of the palace at Mazenderan, where the little sultana,
the favorite of the Shah-in-Shah, was boring herself to death.
A dealer in furs, returning to Samarkand from Nijni-Novgorod,
told of the marvels which he had seen performed in Erik's tent.
The trader was summoned to the palace and the daroga of Mazenderan
was told to question him. Next the daroga was instructed to go
and find Erik. He brought him to Persia, where for some months
Erik's will was law. He was guilty of not a few horrors, for he
seemed not to know the difference between good and evil. He took
part calmly in a number of political assassinations; and he turned
his diabolical inventive powers against the Emir of Afghanistan,
who was at war with the Persian empire. The Shah took a liking
to him.

This was the time of the rosy hours of Mazenderan, of which the daroga's
narrative has given us a glimpse. Erik had very original ideas on
the subject of architecture and thought out a palace much as a conjuror
contrives a trick-casket. The Shah ordered him to construct an edifice
of this kind. Erik did so; and the building appears to have been
so ingenious that His Majesty was able to move about in it unseen and
to disappear without a possibility of the trick's being discovered.
When the Shah-in-Shah found himself the possessor of this gem,
he ordered Erik's yellow eyes to be put out. But he reflected that,
even when blind, Erik would still be able to build so remarkable
a house for another sovereign; and also that, as long as Erik
was alive, some one would know the secret of the wonderful palace.
Erik's death was decided upon, together with that of all the laborers
who had worked under his orders. The execution of this abominable
decree devolved upon the daroga of Mazenderan. Erik had shown
him some slight services and procured him many a hearty laugh.
He saved Erik by providing him with the means of escape, but nearly
paid with his head for his generous indulgence.

Fortunately for the daroga, a corpse, half-eaten by the birds
of prey, was found on the shore of the Caspian Sea, and was taken
for Erik's body, because the daroga's friends had dressed the remains
in clothing that belonged to Erik. The daroga was let off with
the loss of the imperial favor, the confiscation of his property
and an order of perpetual banishment. As a member of the Royal House,
however, he continued to receive a monthly pension of a few hundred
francs from the Persian treasury; and on this he came to live in Paris.

As for Erik, he went to Asia Minor and thence to Constantinople,
where he entered the Sultan's employment. In explanation of the services
which he was able to render a monarch haunted by perpetual terrors,
I need only say that it was Erik who constructed all the famous trap-doors
and secret chambers and mysterious strong-boxes which were found
at Yildiz-Kiosk after the last Turkish revolution. He also invented
those automata, dressed like the Sultan and resembling the Sultan in
all respects,[13] which made people believe that the Commander of the
Faithful was awake at one place, when, in reality, he was asleep elsewhere.

----
[13] See the interview of the special correspondent of the MATIN,
with Mohammed-Ali Bey, on the day after the entry of the Salonika
troops into Constantinople.

Of course, he had to leave the Sultan's service for the same reasons
that made him fly from Persia: he knew too much. Then, tired of
his adventurous, formidable and monstrous life, he longed to be some
one "like everybody else." And he became a contractor, like any
ordinary contractor, building ordinary houses with ordinary bricks.
He tendered for part of the foundations in the Opera.
His estimate was accepted. When he found himself in the cellars
of the enormous playhouse, his artistic, fantastic, wizard nature
resumed the upper hand. Besides, was he not as ugly as ever?
He dreamed of creating for his own use a dwelling unknown
to the rest of the earth, where he could hide from men's eyes for all time.

The reader knows and guesses the rest. It is all in keeping with
this incredible and yet veracious story. Poor, unhappy Erik!
Shall we pity him? Shall we curse him? He asked only to be "some one,"
like everybody else. But he was too ugly! And he had to hide his
genius OR USE IT TO PLAY TRICKS WITH, when, with an ordinary face,
he would have been one of the most distinguished of mankind! He had
a heart that could have held the empire of the world; and, in the end,
he had to content himself with a cellar. Ah, yes, we must needs
pity the Opera ghost.

I have prayed over his mortal remains, that God might show him
mercy notwithstanding his crimes. Yes, I am sure, quite sure
that I prayed beside his body, the other day, when they took it
from the spot where they were burying the phonographic records.
It was his skeleton. I did not recognize it by the ugliness of the head,
for all men are ugly when they have been dead as long as that,
but by the plain gold ring which he wore and which Christine Daae
had certainly slipped on his finger, when she came to bury him
in accordance with her promise.

The skeleton was lying near the little well, in the place where the Angel
of Music first held Christine Daae fainting in his trembling arms,
on the night when he carried her down to the cellars of the opera-house.

And, now, what do they mean to do with that skeleton? Surely they
will not bury it in the common grave!...I say that the place
of the skeleton of the Opera ghost is in the archives of the National
Academy of Music. It is no ordinary skeleton.

THE END

The Paris Opera House

THE SCENE OF GASTON LEROUX'S NOVEL, "THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA"

That Mr. Leroux has used, for the scene of his story, the Paris
Opera House as it really is and has not created a building out
of his imagination, is shown by this interesting description of it
taken from an article which appeared in Scribner's Magazine in 1879,
a short time after the building was completed:

"The new Opera House, commenced under the Empire and finished under
the Republic, is the most complete building of the kind in the world
and in many respects the most beautiful. No European capital
possesses an opera house so comprehensive in plan and execution,
and none can boast an edifice equally vast and splendid.

"The site of the Opera House was chosen in 1861. It was determined
to lay the foundation exceptionally deep and strong. It was
well known that water would be met with, but it was impossible
to foresee at what depth or in what quantity it would be found.
Exceptional depth also was necessary, as the stage arrangements
were to be such as to admit a scene fifty feet high to be lowered
on its frame. It was therefore necessary to lay a foundation
in a soil soaked with water which should be sufficiently solid
to sustain a weight of 22, pounds, and at the same time to be
perfectly dry, as the cellars were intended for the storage
of scenery and properties. While the work was in progress,
the excavation was kept free from water by means of eight pumps,
worked by steam power, and in operation, without interruption,
day and night, from March second to October thirteenth. The floor
of the cellar was covered with a layer of concrete, then with two
coats of cement, another layer of concrete and a coat of bitumen.
The wall includes an outer wall built as a coffer-dam, a brick wall,
a coat of cement, and a wall proper, a little over a yard thick.
After all this was done the whole was filled with water, in order
that the fluid, by penetrating into the most minute interstices,
might deposit a sediment which would close them more surely and
perfectly than it would be possible to do by hand. Twelve years
elapsed before the completion of the building, and during that time
it was demonstrated that the precautions taken secured absolute
impermeability and solidity.

"The events of 1870 interrupted work just as it was about to be
prosecuted most vigorously, and the new Opera House was put
to new and unexpected uses. During the siege, it was converted
into a vast military storehouse and filled with a heterogeneous
mass of goods. After the siege the building fell into the hands
of the Commune and the roof was turned into a balloon station.
The damage done, however, was slight.

"The fine stone employed in the construction was brought from
quarries in Sweden, Scotland, Italy, Algeria, Finland, Spain,
Belgium and France. While work on the exterior was in progress,
the building was covered in by a wooden shell, rendered transparent
by thousands of small panes of glass. In 1867 a swarm of men,
supplied with hammers and axes, stripped the house of its habit,
and showed in all its splendor the great structure. No picture can
do justice to the rich colors of the edifice or to the harmonious
tone resulting from the skilful use of many diverse materials.
The effect of the frontage is completed by the cupola of the auditorium,
topped with a cap of bronze sparingly adorned with gilding.
Farther on, on a level with the towers of Notre-Dame, is the gable
end of the roof of the stage, a `Pegasus', by M. Lequesne,
rising at either end of the roof, and a bronze group by M. Millet,
representing `Apollo lifting his golden lyre', commanding the apex.
Apollo, it may here be mentioned, is useful as well as ornamental,
for his lyre is tipped with a metal point which does duty as a
lightning-rod, and conducts the fluid to the body and down the nether
limbs of the god.

"The spectator, having climbed ten steps and left behind him a gateway,
reaches a vestibule in which are statues of Lully, Rameau, Gluck,
and Handel. Ten steps of green Swedish marble lead to a second vestibule
for ticket-sellers. Visitors who enter by the pavilion reserved for
carriages pass through a hallway where ticket offices are situated.
The larger number of the audience, before entering the auditorium,
traverse a large circular vestibule located exactly beneath it.
The ceiling of this portion of the building is upheld by sixteen fluted
columns of Jura stone, with white marble capitals, forming a portico.
Here servants are to await their masters, and spectators may remain
until their carriages are summoned. The third entrance, which is
quite distinct from the others, is reserved for the Executive.
The section of the building set aside for the use of the Emperor
Napoleon was to have included an antechamber for the bodyguards;
a salon for the aides-de-camp; a large salon and a smaller one
for the Empress; hat and cloak rooms, etc. Moreover, there were
to be in close proximity to the entrance, stables for three coaches,
for the outriders' horses, and for the twenty-one horsemen acting
as an escort; a station for a squad of infantry of thirty-one men
and ten cent-gardes, and a stable for the horses of the latter;
and, besides, a salon for fifteen or twenty domestics. Thus arrangements
had to be made to accommodate in this part of the building about
one hundred persons, fifty horses, and half-a-dozen carriages.
The fall of the Empire suggested some changes, but ample provision
still exists for emergencies.

"Its novel conception, perfect fitness, and rare splendor of material,
make the grand stairway unquestionably one of the most remarkable
features of the building. It presents to the spectator, who has
just passed through the subscribers' pavilion, a gorgeous picture.
From this point he beholds the ceiling formed by the central landing;
this and the columns sustaining it, built of Echaillon stone,
are honeycombed with arabesques and heavy with ornaments;
the steps are of white marble, and antique red marble balusters
rest on green marble sockets and support a balustrade of onyx.
To the right and to the left of this landing are stairways to the floor,
on a plane with the first row of boxes. On this floor stand thirty
monolith columns of Sarrancolin marble, with white marble bases
and capitals. Pilasters of peach-blossom and violet stone are against
the corresponding walls. More than fifty blocks had to be extracted
from the quarry to find thirty perfect monoliths.

"The foyer de la danse has particular interest for the habitues
of the Opera. It is a place of reunion to which subscribers to three
performances a week are admitted between the acts in accordance
with a usage established in 1870. Three immense looking-glasses
cover the back wall of the FOYER, and a chandelier with one
hundred and seven burners supplies it with light. The paintings
include twenty oval medallions, in which are portrayed the twenty
danseuses of most celebrity since the opera has existed in France,
and four panels by M. Boulanger, typifying `The War Dance', `The
Rustic Dance', `The Dance of Love' and `The Bacchic Dance.'
While the ladies of the ballet receive their admirers in this foyer,
they can practise their steps. Velvet-cushioned bars have to this
end been secured at convenient points, and the floor has been given
the same slope as that of the stage, so that the labor expended
may be thoroughly profitable to the performance. The singers' foyer,
on the same floor, is a much less lively resort than the
foyer de la danse, as vocalists rarely leave their dressing-rooms
before they are summoned to the stage. Thirty panels with portraits
of the artists of repute in the annals of the Opera adorn this foyer.

"Some estimate...may be arrived at by sitting before the concierge
an hour or so before the representation commences. First appear
the stage carpenters, who are always seventy, and sometimes,
when L'Africaine, for example, with its ship scene, is the opera,
one hundred and ten strong. Then come stage upholsterers,
whose sole duty is to lay carpets, hang curtains, etc.; gas-men, and
a squad of firemen. Claqueurs, call-boys, property-men, dressers,
coiffeurs, supernumeraries, and artists, follow. The supernumeraries
number about one hundred; some are hired by the year, but the
`masses' are generally recruited at the last minute and are
generally working-men who seek to add to their meagre earnings.
There are about a hundred choristers, and about eighty musicians.

"Next we behold equeries, whose horses are hoisted on the stage by means
of an elevator; electricians who manage the light-producing batteries;
hydrauliciens to take charge of the water-works in ballets like La Source;
artificers who prepare the conflagration in Le Profeta; florists who
make ready Margarita's garden, and a host of minor employees.
This personnel is provided for as follows: Eighty dressing-rooms
are reserved for the artists, each including a small antechamber,
the dressing-room proper, and a little closet. Besides these apartments,
the Opera has a dressing-room for sixty male, and another for
fifty female choristers; a third for thirty-four male dancers;
four dressing-rooms for twenty female dancers of different grades;
a dressing-room for one hundred and ninety supernumeraries, etc."

A few figures taken from the article will suggest the enormous
capacity and the perfect convenience of the house. "There are
2,531 doors and 7,593 keys; 14 furnaces and grates heat the house;
the gaspipes if connected would form a pipe almost 16 miles long;
9 reservoirs, and two tanks hold 22,222 gallons of water and
distribute their contents through 22,829 2-5 feet of piping;
538 persons have places assigned wherein to change their attire.
The musicians have a foyer with 100 closets for their instruments."

The author remarks of his visit to the Opera House that it "was
almost as bewildering as it was agreeable. Giant stairways and
colossal halls, huge frescoes and enormous mirrors, gold and marble,
satin and velvet, met the eye at every turn."

In a recent letter Mr. Andre Castaigne, whose remarkable pictures
illustrate the text, speaks of a river or lake under the Opera House
and mentions the fact that there are now also three metropolitan
railway tunnels, one on top of the other.

[end]

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