~ The mystery of ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ ~ ๐Ÿ–ค๐ŸŒน

โ€˜The Phantom of the Operaโ€™ is definitely a tale about escapism- Christine spends her whole life being coached by a โ€˜mysterious voiceโ€™ that mentors her to do better and achieve beyond what she thought possible, when she finally steps through the mirror and meets the man behind the voice, her illusion shatters and she is repulsed by his deformed face. ๐Ÿ’€

Instead, she goes for her childhood sweetheart Raoul, and, the phantom realises that despite all heโ€™s given her, she still turns away in horror. She pities him and yet still agrees to lay a trap, by going along with his grand plans for her on the stage, but in the end, his jealousy still destroys them (and the opera house which is also his home.) ๐ŸŽผ๐ŸŽญ

We see him as the villain of the story, but we also feel sorry for him, hiding away with no love and kindness- and perhaps itโ€™s this forced solitude & space to develop his talents that turns him into a musical genius. There are many things to learn from it, that you canโ€™t force love, that you canโ€™t expect too much from anyone, yet also the power of forgiveness and also dedication throughout a lifetime. ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿ–ค

Another thing I love about the Phantom are the aesthetics, the opulent backdrop & historical references- after all itโ€™s a theatre, the masquerade balls, the grandness, and of course, the amazing soundtrack!! Andrew Lloyd Webber really transformed it and made it his own- hence why it still stands the test of time. ๐Ÿ‘ฐ๐Ÿป๐Ÿ‘ป๐ŸŽžโ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ € โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €โ €

~ ๐””๐”ฒ๐”ฌ๐”ฑ๐”ข ๐” ๐”ฌ๐”ฏ๐”ซ๐”ข๐”ฏ~

โ€œThey played at hearts as other children might play at ball; only, as it was really their two hearts that they flung to and fro, they had to be very, very handy to catch them, each time, without hurting them.โ€

โ€œAnd, despite the care which she took to look behind her at every moment, she failed to see a shadow which followed her like her own shadow, which stopped when she stopped, which started again when she did and which made no more noise than a well-conducted shadow should.โ€

In The Beginning

It sticks out of the bookshelf like a shark’s tooth;
gold leaf with shades of chrome, black.
Too loud, too at ease in its own skin.

Lined up like an army, battered and
dog eared volumes traverse the shelves.
I’d fought wars through those pages,
I had ridden through midnight trains,
soared over cities, learnt life’s bitter lessons.
A snow shaker of timeless dimensions
sealed with glue and trapped in paper walls.

Bending with the weight of secrets.

โ€œI have chosen for you.โ€ he says.
โ€œThe book that will change your life.โ€
He points to the hardbound cover creeping
its way out of the shelf,
inching its way closer-
willing me to pluck it down like a ripe apple.

It looks confident.

The book falls with a resounding thud
into my eager hands.
It is heavy, its skeletal structure
digging into the grooves of my palm,
making a home for itself
like an affection seeking cat.

I glance at its neighbours,
wispy and insubstantial like the smoke of dreams.
With the sound of their hushed murmurings
I turn the first leaf,
as the first four words fall from my lips….


Copyright ยฉ 2015 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)

Modern Fairytale


-Welcome to my library says the beast. Two storeys to be read at your leisure. All yours.

-No thanks. Belle shows him her Kindle, held to her chest like an over swaddled baby-binder. This is your whole library.

-Can you eat it? Smell it, touch it, lick it? Didn’t think so, says the beast. It is not a proper thing you can drop in a bath, crumple in your bag until it is dog-eared, use as a coaster -no, itโ€™s a travesty. You cannot eat a Kindle, and that’s a fact.

Copyright ยฉ 2014 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)