The Daaé Case - bonus material
Various 'extra bits' that I created in response to readers who wanted to know what was going on behind the scenes; it would be nice to say that these characters are created with a depth and attention to detail that runs deeper than what actually makes it onto the page, but I'm afraid that, like the backstory in the actual text, these are mostly details that 'emerge' as and when it occurs to me to look at them, in other words that I make up as I go along...
What we don't know, of course, is what exactly Christine wrote in that letter of hers to Mr Y (and we never will know, because Jos didn't get to read it). But I think it's a fair bet that those innocent lines incidentally confirming what she thought he had already agreed -- that the song she had promised him would be their goodbye -- had a rather more painful impact on their recipient than Christine ever intended :-(
Not least because the note was enclosed with the complimentary ticket sent from McWhirter's office on Manhattan Opera stationery, and was thus doubtless regarded as boring official business and dealt with by Madame Giry in her role as "the person who has to do all the day-to-day jobs that the Master operates on too elevated a plane to bother with". Not the most tactful person to deliver a note from the absent diva, especially given Madame Giry's existing opinions on Christine's general ingratitude and usurping nature, views which she is not known for keeping quiet about...
I predict wailing and gnashing of teeth ;-p And possibly some genuine repentance (because after all, as she makes innocently plain, he did promise her on the previous day that he wouldn't make any further attempt to keep her with him, and events have since conspired to prevent him from breaking that vow -- he has been gifted with a clear conscience through no merit of his own).
The viewpoint shift for the final scene does rather leave open the question of what happens to Jos, whom we last see poleaxed and somewhat marooned in Christine's dressing-room; does he watch the show from the wings, or not? I suspect he quite probably doesn't, in the end -- it's not his scene, and he's got rather a lot of complicated emotions to deal with at this point. And he certainly won't still be there when she comes back after the show, all exhausted and glowing with excitement and eager to fling her arms around her family.
So I think he probably slips away quietly while all attention is on the auditorium, and gets the story of Christine's triumph from Lindy Weiss, 'fresh from the horse's mouth', the next morning with a certain unspoken proprietorial pride. He got her there, after all.
And -- while he isn't going to admit openly to a friendship, still less to actively seeking one -- I think that he is definitely going to be 'accidentally' turning up in Raoul and Christine's lives while they're still in America, and making sure 'Mr Rowl' doesn't mess this one up, if possible ;-p
For what it's worth, despite the parallels with marrying a richer/better-born/more handsome man, Freddie is not in any way a bad husband to Sally; Jos has a slightly prejudiced point of view! They met through a genuine shared interest in culture, and she was more than capable of making her own choices rather than being swept off her feet. Under different circumstances she might have stayed with Jos; but ultimately, the way their lives were going, there was no future for them. She wanted things he didn't want or understand, and she tried to take him with her, but it was too hard on both of them. And kind, gentle, amusing Freddie made her happy in ways that a self-educated girl who'd dragged herself by main force out of a gutter of exploitation and gang violence could only ever dream of -- could make her feel like a queen not just with fine clothes and elegant comforts, but by treating her with unthinking respect and openhearted admiration. It's a successful marriage, and an unashamedly affectionate one. And if she thinks of the wild days of her youth, it's with a rueful smile at her own hardiness and daring but with no real desire to return.
She has grown up -- grown quiet, and gracious, and contented. And spitfire Sal is only a fond memory, along with those sweltering days beneath the tiles in the attic and the fights and laughter that led in the end (but she no longer seeks to remember that) to strained silences and tears.
But Jos doesn't know any of that... and in his mind she is still and always, even if worn by years of repetition, the Sal he knew. The one who was close enough to touch, who chose him and chose to be with him in hardship and in danger -- and whom he let slip through his fingers by his own fault.
This entry was originally posted at http://igenlode.dreamwidth.org/94593.html, where there are
comments.
What we don't know, of course, is what exactly Christine wrote in that letter of hers to Mr Y (and we never will know, because Jos didn't get to read it). But I think it's a fair bet that those innocent lines incidentally confirming what she thought he had already agreed -- that the song she had promised him would be their goodbye -- had a rather more painful impact on their recipient than Christine ever intended :-(
Not least because the note was enclosed with the complimentary ticket sent from McWhirter's office on Manhattan Opera stationery, and was thus doubtless regarded as boring official business and dealt with by Madame Giry in her role as "the person who has to do all the day-to-day jobs that the Master operates on too elevated a plane to bother with". Not the most tactful person to deliver a note from the absent diva, especially given Madame Giry's existing opinions on Christine's general ingratitude and usurping nature, views which she is not known for keeping quiet about...
I predict wailing and gnashing of teeth ;-p And possibly some genuine repentance (because after all, as she makes innocently plain, he did promise her on the previous day that he wouldn't make any further attempt to keep her with him, and events have since conspired to prevent him from breaking that vow -- he has been gifted with a clear conscience through no merit of his own).
The viewpoint shift for the final scene does rather leave open the question of what happens to Jos, whom we last see poleaxed and somewhat marooned in Christine's dressing-room; does he watch the show from the wings, or not? I suspect he quite probably doesn't, in the end -- it's not his scene, and he's got rather a lot of complicated emotions to deal with at this point. And he certainly won't still be there when she comes back after the show, all exhausted and glowing with excitement and eager to fling her arms around her family.
So I think he probably slips away quietly while all attention is on the auditorium, and gets the story of Christine's triumph from Lindy Weiss, 'fresh from the horse's mouth', the next morning with a certain unspoken proprietorial pride. He got her there, after all.
And -- while he isn't going to admit openly to a friendship, still less to actively seeking one -- I think that he is definitely going to be 'accidentally' turning up in Raoul and Christine's lives while they're still in America, and making sure 'Mr Rowl' doesn't mess this one up, if possible ;-p
For what it's worth, despite the parallels with marrying a richer/better-born/more handsome man, Freddie is not in any way a bad husband to Sally; Jos has a slightly prejudiced point of view! They met through a genuine shared interest in culture, and she was more than capable of making her own choices rather than being swept off her feet. Under different circumstances she might have stayed with Jos; but ultimately, the way their lives were going, there was no future for them. She wanted things he didn't want or understand, and she tried to take him with her, but it was too hard on both of them. And kind, gentle, amusing Freddie made her happy in ways that a self-educated girl who'd dragged herself by main force out of a gutter of exploitation and gang violence could only ever dream of -- could make her feel like a queen not just with fine clothes and elegant comforts, but by treating her with unthinking respect and openhearted admiration. It's a successful marriage, and an unashamedly affectionate one. And if she thinks of the wild days of her youth, it's with a rueful smile at her own hardiness and daring but with no real desire to return.
She has grown up -- grown quiet, and gracious, and contented. And spitfire Sal is only a fond memory, along with those sweltering days beneath the tiles in the attic and the fights and laughter that led in the end (but she no longer seeks to remember that) to strained silences and tears.
But Jos doesn't know any of that... and in his mind she is still and always, even if worn by years of repetition, the Sal he knew. The one who was close enough to touch, who chose him and chose to be with him in hardship and in danger -- and whom he let slip through his fingers by his own fault.
This entry was originally posted at http://igenlode.dreamwidth.org/94593.html, where there are
comments.