…So I was reading Phantom of the opera… I don’t know whether to despise Erik or pity him. Yes I know he killed people and kidnapped others… but-but he had a tough life… he just wanted to be normal. In the end, all he craved was normalcy and the love he’d never received.
That book was a tragedy and no one can convince me otherwise.
Finally, the situation Erik has found himself in with Christine has reached a breaking point, and he has been left with no choice but to confront her. But not to worry—as always, he’s very chill about it, very low drama, just, you know, really killing this whole communication thing.
Eros, Thanatos and the Underworld - Death symbolism in Leroux
One of the most striking characteristics of Leroux’s Erik is his physical ugliness, which caused him to be rejected and shunned throughout his entire life. But Erik is not „just“ run-of-the-mill ugly, he’s not “just” deformed - he literally looks like Death. And it is this very peculiar brand of ugliness that comes with a deep and rich symbolism attached.
Other characters compare him to a „living corpse“ and a skeleton, and he is described as having a „Death‘s head“ on several occasions. At the masked ball, Erik famously dresses up as the „Red Death“ from Edgar Allan Poe‘s gothic short story - however, it is important to note that in contrast to Poe‘s „Red Death“, Erik is not just an allegory, a personification of Death. He is fundamentally human, and the death symbolism in the story serves not only to evoke horror, but also to expand and enrich the character and the themes connected with him on a deeper level.
Erik is not only strongly associated with death, but also with love and passion. This duality reflects the age-old “Eros and Thanatos” connection, where love/sex and death are perceived as two sides of the same coin. The fascination with themes of love and death obviously predates gothic romanticism, but at the turn of the century, it was very much in vogue in both the arts and sciences, and it has always been present in the world of Opera.
But not only Erik’s physical appearance is laden with death imagery - the death symbolism extends to his entire realm. He sleeps in a coffin, and his room is furnished with funeral-style decor, which forms a stark contrast to the more conventional furniture in the rest of his house. The coffin-bed is also evocative of vampire lore, which many readers associate mainly with another famous gothic classic - Bram Stoker’s “Dracula”, which was published in 1897. While Leroux had probably read Stoker, the popularity of vampires in France predates Stoker’s novel. French writer Charles Nodier is credited with introducing gothic romanticism in France. He published a series of novels centering around gothic themes in the 1820s and 1830s - works which influenced Victor Hugo and, in turn, Gaston Leroux. Nodier, through his stage adaptation of Polidori‘s „Le Vampire“, reshaped the traditional concept of vampires being nothing but “living corpses” who fed off the living into the more sophisticated, Byronesque character of Lord Ruthven and thus gave birth to the figure of the Romantic Vampire - a reinterpretation whose repercussions are still alive and well today. “Le Vampire” was wildly popular in France in the first half of the 19th century and sparked a fascination with gothic themes.
Leroux often compares Erik’s abode and the cellars of the Opera to the Underworld, the realm of death in Greek and Roman mythology. “Lake Averne”, the name by which Erik and Christine refer to the lake under the Opera House, is an allusion to the “Lago d’Averno” in Italy, one of the legendary entrances to the Underworld. Christine also compares the lake to the River Styx, and Erik to Charon:
“The souls of the dead couldn’t have felt more anxiety when they came to the River Styx, and Charon couldn’t have been gloomier or more silent than the man who lifted me into the boat.”
The Persian also makes a very similar comparison:
„Except for his golden eyes, he looked like the grim ferryman of the Styx.“
The name of Charon, the ferryman to the Underworld, can be translated as “with glowing/fiery eyes”. Erik’s eyes are also described as “glowing” and are only visible in the dark. Christine’s boat ride resembles the passage into the Hades, leaving behind the world of the living. Charon also moves his boat with a pole - an image that is not used in Leroux (since Erik uses oars), but was frequently used in visual adaptations such as the 1925 movie and the ALW musical.
But Erik is not just the ferryman - he is also the ruler of the underground part of the Opera, as Christine says:
„Everything underground belongs to him!“
She even ascribes almost supernatural powers to him, and suggests that he indeed possesses knowledge of the netherworld:
„He does things that no other man could do, and he knows things that are unknown to the world of the living.“
The famous Underworld myth of Orpheus is also referenced in Leroux. Not only does Christine state that she belonged to “Orpheus’ flock” when she listens to Erik sing, she also breaks the rule of “don’t look” in the unintentionally destructive act of tearing away Erik’s mask, which results in her captivity.
In addition to Orpheus, “The Phantom of the Opera” can also be seen as a variation on the mythological story of Hades and Persephone. Hades, the god of the Underworld, fell in love with the young and beautiful Persephone, the goddess of spring, and wanted to marry her, but she wasn’t willing to abandon the world above and go to live in the Underworld. Therefore Hades abducted her, she finally consented to marry him and became queen of the Underworld, ultimately dividing her time between both worlds. The 1858 satirical opera “Orfée aux enfers” by Jacques Offenbach, in addition to parodying the society of the Third Empire, also constituted a crossover between the two legends by having Pluto/Hades abduct Eurydike after starting an affair with her in disguise, and Jupiter leading Orpheus into the Underworld to retrieve his wife, but then tricking him into looking at her.
Although Christine never becomes queen of Erik’s Underworld, she is clearly torn between finding his world both fascinating and terrifying.
Erik and Christine can also be seen as a literal expression of the artistic topos „death and the maiden“, which especially towards the end of the 19th century associated death very strongly with the erotic (see https://eclecticlight.co/2020/01/05/paintings-for-our-time-death-and-the-maiden/ for a very good overview of the evolution of the motif). Here, Death is usually represented as either a skeleton or corpse, or as an angel - which is very much in line with Leroux’s Erik, who also embodies both. Erik‘s music creates feelings of passion, rapture and ecstasy in Christine, and combined with the fact that Erik’s entire existence is a transgression of everything that is socially accepted, it is not a big stretch to conclude that Erik is associated not only with death, but also with sexuality. The perception of sex as both a life-creating and life-threatening force was especially prevalent at the turn of the century, expressed in works such as Edvard Munch’s 1894 painting “Girl and Death” (https://www.edvard-munch.org/girl-and-death/) or the very similar but more explicit “Life and Death“:
Death is seen as intricately tied to love and the darker feelings of passion and desire. Erik identifying with the character of “Don Juan” further accentuates his “Eros” side, while the fact that he is threatening to blow up the Opera house - and thus constituting a threat to all of society very much like Poe’s Red Death - clearly play up the “Thanatos” aspect of his character. Music in the novel also serves as a metaphor for romantic love and sex, as it is connotated with “passion”, “fire”, “ecstasy” and “rapture” throughout - and no character in it is more strongly connected to music than Erik. Erik’s teaching awakens “an ardent, voracious and sublime life” in Christine, symbolising the burgeoning romantic feelings in the young woman. She is terrified with the changes going on in her, which is also in line with how „Eros“ was originally viewed: as a frightening loss of control.
Andrew Lloyd Webber‘s musical adaptation of the original Phantom story recognized this strongly erotic undercurrent in the story and aptly translated it into songs such as „Music of the night“ or „Point of no return“. But he did not put it there - the themes were always present, and paradoxically, they have always been strongly connected to the aspect that some modern readers now perceive only as “horror” - Erik’s death-like appearance.
All quotes were taken from the translation by Lowell Bair.
One thing I find really interesting is the fact that Erik communicated with Christine largely through a mirror, brings her through a mirror to his home, but in Leroux he has no mirrors in his home so as not to see his face, and some actors in the musical play him as being afraid to look at his own face in the mirror.
The mirror, in its primary function, only reflects what is visible on the surface and therefore, would only remind Erik of his ugliness and torture him further. That‘s probably why the only room that has mirrors in Erik‘s house is the (aptly named) „torture chamber“. What is significant though about the interaction between Erik and Christine is that it transcendsthe mirror. The glass disappears and allows the mirror to become no longer a barrier, but a passageway. Instead of showing a reflection, it suddenly becomes a way to go beyond the surface and to explore the unknown, both within the other and within ourselves.
Christine’s greatest strength is not her willpower or the fact that she resists Erik or is assertive towards Raoul. Her greatest strength is that she tries to make a difference in a cruel world. She gives sweets to the little ballet rats, who live a hard life full of deprivations. She cares about others - especially to those who are considered „unimportant“. And above all, she overcomes her own fears to reach out to a rejected and shunned man, a „monster“, in a deeply human and compassionate way. Christine made all the difference in Erik’s world. She is one of the best examples that kindness is not weakness, but true strength.
Ever since I first saw (and then read) “Phantom”, I - like many others - have been fascinated by the relationship between Erik and Christine. There was something incredibly touching, moving, earth-shattering about them in both their ALW and Leroux portrayals. Both narratives are comparable in the degree of ambiguity they afford to their relationship. But why exactly are Erik and Christine so compelling as a couple? They probably mean different things to everyone, but I have tried digging a bit more into the reasons why I personally love this tragic pair so much…
One of the reasons their relationship holds such a huge appeal for me lies in the deep symbolism it carries. Throughout the narrative, Erik and Christine are presented as opposites - angel and demon, black and white, beauty and ugliness, underground and aboveground. They represent the dualism of the human condition, embodying extremes that complement each other. Just as there is no light without darkness, either is incomplete without the other. That symbolism brings a universal, almost transcendental quality to their relationship. Visually, the „yin and yang“ symbol sums them up perfectly:
They are not only opposites - they also mirror each other. It is no surprise that the mirror is such an important symbol in their story, literally turning them into mirror images of each other. They are two sides of the same coin, both representing a part of dualistic world. And just as Erik shows Christine her own darkness, she brings out the light in his soul.
They also have quite a few features in common: Both have a past of being travelling performers. Both are each other’s „angels“. They are also both enormously talented and passionate musicians. The soul-deep connection they share through music is incredibly intimate, passionate and spiritually erotic - and it is the core that lends an almost otherworldly quality to their relationship. Through music, Erik and Christine seem to unite as one being, creating their private world where nothing matters but their hearts and souls:
„Music has the power to abolish everything in the world except its sounds, which go straight to the heart.“ (Christine Daaé)
Emotions are heightened and pushed to the limits here, resulting in what Christine repeatedly describes as „ecstasy“. This transcendental experience of going „beyond themselves“, of transcending the limits of their own being to connect with another, is a deeply Romantic concept. But just as too much passion can become overwhelming and consuming, resulting in a loss of control, Christine’s connection to Erik becomes both necessary and terrifying as she fears losing herself in it, both fascinated by him and equally afraid of his potentially destructive power. Erik and Christine are in equal parts moth and flame to each other. They are helplessly drawn to each other despite knowing that the other holds the power to destroy them.
But perhaps the most important reason why I love Erik and Christine together is the fact that Erik is so utterly, completely, head over ears in love with her. What might appear as just an obsession at first glance is proven to be the truest kind of love in the end - a selfless love that puts Christine’s needs first and makes Erik sacrifice everything for her, “calmly cutting his own heart to pieces”. His love is like a searing light in the darkness, beautiful and pure. In the end, it does not even matter if Christine returns it because his love for her is so powerful that it alone redeems him. It also helps him grow and become a better person. He recognizes that his behaviour has been wrong, that love mustn’t be forced, and that he must give her up if he really loves her:
„In the end, most of the Phantoms, including Leroux’s, sacrifice their desires for a woman‘s and honor her choice. […] This sacrifice is the true aphrodisiac of most Phantom narratives: women‘s desires are upheld, no matter how conventional. It is this moment that earns the Phantom narrative its audience‘s loyalty, not the unseen „happily ever after“ promised to Christine by her conventional Raoul.“ (Ann C. Hall, “Phantom Variations”).
It is not certain though just how happy the „happily ever after“ will turn out for Raoul and Christine because we never even get to see it. Both Leroux (with his allusion to Christine’s „solitary singing“ and her return of the wedding ring to him) and ALW (implying that a solitary Raoul seeks closure by buying the Phantom‘s music box for Christine as an old man) insinuate that the loss of Christine’s almost symbiotic artistic relationship with Erik means that her soul will be missing an important piece for the rest of her life. And this is the extended tragedy of it, because Raoul also really loves Christine and would be willing to give up his life for her - the difference between him and Erik being mostly that Raoul is never required to go through with that sacrifice.
And even if Erik‘s love for Christine might not be entirely unrequited, it still remains unfulfilled in life. It is no surprise that Leroux links them to Romeo and Juliet - they are, in a sense, also star-crossed lovers whose love is doomed, both by wrong choices and by circumstances outside their control. Raoul, who is quite perceptive, sums it up in his fateful question in „Apollo‘s Lyre“:
„If Erik were handsome, would you love me?“
Christine’s reply of „ Why tempt fate? Why ask me about things I hide deep within my conscience, the way one would hide a sin?“ was not included in the widespread de Mattos translation - possibly because it is the most telling expression of her harbouring deeper, forbidden feelings for Erik that she can’t admit, since she is clearly unwilling to answer Raoul’s question. In Leroux, the narrator also implies that after Erik‘s death, Christine returned to him and put the gold wedding ring he had given her on his finger, ultimately fulfilling their impossible love in death.
If things were different, if Erik had been born with a normal face and lived a different life because of it, Erik and Christine might have had a chance at happiness. But this is left to the audience‘s imagination and wishful thinking, perpetuating the fascination with their tragic tale of unfulfilled love.
The order of events in the Leroux novel can be a bit confusing due to the “puzzle“ style of the narrative, so I‘ve tried and listed everything with a chronological indication in the (hopefully) correct order and timeframe. Piecing everything together, it is quite amazing how quickly things happened…
Beginning of November, possibly late October (“a good 3 months” before Christine‘s first disappearance): Erik and Christine meet, Erik starts teaching Christine. Talk of the “Opera Ghost” also arises “several months” before the gala, so probably around the same time.
January 10:Gala night featuring Christine, departure of Debienne and Poligny, Buquet’s body is found, Moncharmin and Richard learn about the ghost. Raoul hears Erik‘s voice in Christine’s dressing room.
The anniversary of Christine’s father’s death and her trip to Perros take place at some point later in January.
January 25: a note from the opera ghost arrives, claiming Box 5. M and R reserve Box 5 for Debienne and Poligny, so it remains empty.
January 26: Thank-you note from the ghost arrives, Box 5 sold to the public, occupants thrown out. Erik‘s note also states that he will write to them soon concerning the payment of his salary.
January 27: Mme Giry interrogated
The Saturday after: Faust performance where chandelier falls.Erik brings Christine to his house, where she stays for 2 weeks.
2 weeks later (mid-February): Christine and Erik go to the Masked Ball. Christine meets Raoul and later returns to Erik for the night. He gives her the wedding ring and she returns home the next morning.
Next day: Raoul visits Christine at home and sees the gold ring.
Next day: Raoul sees Christine at the Opera and tells her that he will be leaving in 3 or 4 weeks for the North Pole. The engagement gamebegins.
1 week later: Christine runs off to Erik.
2 days later: Christine reappears in “La Juive”
The following days are not stated, but it seems to be about another week, possibly, until the rooftop scene. Maximum duration of the entire engagement episode: 3-4 weeks, so no later than mid-march. The evening of Christine‘s abduction coincides with the payment of the Opera Ghost‘s monthly salary.
Rooftop scene evening: Raoul shoots Erik on the balcony. Raoul and Philippe quarrel.
Next day: The supposed engagement of Raoul and Christine is announced in the newspaper. Raoul prepares elopement and goes to the opera house at 9 pm. Christine is abducted from the stage. Erik sets her an ultimatum until 11 pm the following night (24 hours). Second payment collected. Past midnight, Raoul and the Persian go off in search of Christine and fall into the torture chamber.
Next day, 11 pm: Ultimatum runs out. Christine turns scorpion. Raoul and the Persian almost drown, but are recovered by Erik and Christine.
The Persian is delivered back to his apartment probably 1-2 days later, depending on how long he slept. Erik lets Christine and Raoul go.
Shortly after: Erik comes to visit the Persian.
3 weeks later:Erik dies(end of March to possibly mid-April).
So Erik met Christine (and most likely started masquerading as the opera ghost) at the beginning of November, and died the following spring at the end of march, maybe mid-April at the latest. This means that the entire plot, from Erik‘s and Christine’s first meeting to his death, spans only 5 to 5 ½ months in total. Therefore, they knew each other for a much shorter time than commonly assumed, especially within the context of the ALW musical.
PotO locations - The Madeleine church (Erik’s chosen wedding venue)
In Leroux’s novel, Erik plans to marry Christine in the Madeleine church, a catholic church about 10 minutes walking distance from the Opera - so I dedided to let the wedding bells ring a little and pay the Madeleine a visit as well. If you thought that Erik would pick a small neighbourhood church that wouldn’t attract much attention, this couldn’t be much further from the truth because this church is huge. He admits to having a faible for the “grandiose” in the book, and his choice of wedding location totally confirms that. He really wanted to shout it from the rooftops!
One of its features is a big and very beautiful pipe organ, so perhaps that is why Erik picked it as the place to play his wedding march…
What better time to explore this question than Dark Week? For context, I write E/C fic and I’m not here to tell anyone that their head canon of Erik is wrong. But I see this question posed often. Even Lindsay Ellis affectionately calls Erik the Incel in the Basement in one of her PotO videos. So, is he? Does he meet the definition?
According to Merriam-Webster:
The term seems to appear on the internet around 1999, so it’s safe to say that neither Leroux nor ALW had this word in mind when writing Erik. But what about the concept itself? When I first read the novel, I found The Scorpion or the Grasshopper chapter absolutely chilling. I could not separate Erik’s threat of mass murder from what we know today about mass shooters and domestic violence, including incels who perpetrate mass violence. A majority of mass shootings are proceeded by a history of domestic or gender-based violence. If this has been true throughout history I do not know. If Leroux knew this about society, it would have been intuitive. He wouldn’t have had research and statistics about this on hand.
What Leroux did have on hand was knowledge of the anarchist terrorism of his time. In 1894, Leroux witnessed and wrote about the trials and executions of three such men. He was likely also inspired by the 1893 anarchist bombing of the Liceu Opera in Barcelona. Rather than ground Erik’s threat to blow up the Garnier in pure misogyny or sexual frustration like a modern incel, Leroux bases it on the words and actions of anarchists. Not that I think Erik has any political agenda, but rather, Leroux has an agenda of using Erik as a parody of both the anarchists and the bourgeoisie who feared them.
Looking back at the definition of incel, Erik expresses extreme resentment and hostility in any adaptation, barring the fluffiest of fluff phic. But what about the celibate part? ALW’s Phantom emits the ultimate incel groan about having been “denied the joys of the flesh” after having just forced Christine into a wedding dress. Feel free to discuss in the notes how this is not incel behavior. But what about Leroux Erik? Is he actually celibate, voluntarily or not? He makes jokes and threats about Don Juan and Blue Beard, implying a past romantic or married life. But it is left vague. He could have been a Don Juan. He could have been married before. He could have killed his wives. He could just be joking - he’s so funny! He could have visited sex workers. He could not care about sex at all, focusing more on the societal benefits a wife might bring him.
Is Erik an incel? It depends on which version of Erik and it depends on your own cultural context and much as Leroux’s or ALW’s. An incel is a modern concept, but they could have existed petulantly throughout history before finally finding each other on the internet.
Please feel free to comment on this post. Opposing opinions are welcome. Incel apologies are not.
I‘ve seen people call Erik an „incel“ before, and while it is most likely true that he is „involuntarily celibate“, I feel that a true incel is quite different from Erik (I‘ll be referring to the Leroux version here). Two key differences that I would associate with incels are:
Asense of entitlement that results in thinking a woman „owes“ them sex, love or whatever. I do not see Erik as feeling entitled to Christine’s love. His undertone is always pleading - he desperately wants to be loved and accepted. There‘s a big difference between a fervent wish and the feeling of being entitled to something.
Alack of actual affection. The ending of PotO makes it clear that Erik loves Christine very deeply. He worships the ground she walks on. He values her happiness more than his own. This, to me, is the opposite of „incel“ behaviour.
So, what about the terrorist threat? To me, this threat is a. primarily suicidal (as he wanted to end his life) and b. directed against society as a whole, probably as an act of revenge for how he was treated all his life. Leroux openly criticized society for shunning people like Erik. Ironically, the Garnier was built to prevent terrorist attacks on the Emperor. Writing a cellar full of gunpowder into the Opera can be interpreted as an extension of that social criticism and warning.
And what about Erik‘s potential previous relationships? I honestly don‘t think there are any - mostly because he says „no woman ever…“ when Christine lets him kiss her. Leroux also doesn‘t mention anything in his biography of Erik. When Christine shows him affection for the first time, he totally breaks down. This indicates that he has no romantic experience at all. There are two scenes where Christine basically expects him to rape her, but he never does. I also don‘t think he would be content with sex only - he wants the full package, including love from a „living wife“.
Another point to consider is that he wants to be married in a catholic church, so he must be a catholic - maybe he believes in „no sex before marriage“?
We all know that Erik wouldn’t ever dare hurt Christine. So I like to think that when they have an argument or a disagreement, instead of going straight to violence or murder like he usually does with other people, he just sits in a dark corner with his back facing her, sulking.
That, or he climbs up to one of the rafters and, again, sits there sulking. Kind of like a pissed off cat. And when someone tries to get him down he hisses at them.
