Christine's Madness

Chapter 1: Society, Marriage and Motherhood

Christine, the Vicomtesse de Chagny, had not been seen in Paris for several weeks. Her absence from the fashionable salons was of course noticed, but hardly mourned. Christine was widely considered a dull, sullen and unwanted addition to upper class society. Invitations were bestowed upon her only as a courtesy to her husband the Vicomte. Raoul de Chagny was a man of great wealth and importance. It was considered a tremendous honor to count the Vicomte amongst one's party guests. A hostess would tolerate his wife, but only if Christine was imposed upon them.

To the women of the Parisian upper class Christine was seen nothing more as a vulgar opera girl. Her musical upbringing had left her poorly educated in the ways of fashion and society and was about as useful to a party as a deaf mute. She had clearly used what very little beauty she possessed in her youth to ensnare the Vicomte into an unwise and imbalanced marriage. How the noblewomen mourned the Vicomte's lot in life to be saddled with such a dull wife. It had become a rather popular party game amongst the Parisian hostesses to try to lure Raoul de Chagny into a pleasant indiscretion. While proper ladies do not openly discuss such activities, recent gossip pointed towards a Russian ballerina coming very close to seducing the prize, though no one had openly claimed victory as of yet.

The men of the Parisian upper class had a much more favorable view of Christine, at least initially. She was a pretty little thing and they could hardly fault Raoul for wanting her in his bed every night. The men showered Christine with compliments and congratulated the Vicomte on his choice bride. Boredom quickly took hold amongst the leisurely society however and it was not long before a rather bawdy rumor about Christine began to spread. It was widely whispered that Christine had taken on a lover. More intriguing than that was that she had chosen a very dangerous man--- a madman and a murder they said.

The idea of innocent little Christine being seduced by a murder thrilled and aroused the gentleman. What terribly delicious things such a man such as that must do to her behind closed doors. It was such an irresistible prospect that each man, in his turn, made his own move to become Christine's next lover. The double entandres and propositions were lost on the Christine however. She did not understand their meaning and it appeared that she was nearly as much of a maiden as she was before her marriage. The rejected gentlemen quickly concluded the rumor was a false one, no doubt planted by one of their shrewish wives meant to make them all look fools. The innocence they once found so sweat and endearing in Christine became repulsive to them. Why on earth should they waste their time trying seducing her when there were plenty of much more experience women to be found, for the right price.

So it was that the Parisian upper class came to greatly dislike Christine de Chagny. Their love and admiration for her husband Raoul intensified every day, but for Christine their would be nothing.

At any given party that Raoul attended with his wife, Christine could always be found sitting alone in a corner while Raoul laughed and played. Raoul was quite a master of both cards and billiards and loved to dazzle the other guests with his skills. Christine would sit patiently in her chair dressed as pretty as a doll with blank hollow eyes to match. It was not that Christine was unhappy. On the contrary, she loved her husband and it pleased her to see him so well liked by these people. The emptiness in her eyes was simply the byproduct lacking the kills necessary to endear herself to this society.

Christine's life had been entirely dedicated to music and nothing else. That one great skill that she did possess, the gift of music, was a skill that her husband had forbidden her to use. Without music there was very little left to Christine. She did not blame Raoul's friends for disliking her. She would dislike herself as well.

Raoul's intentions had been noble. His wife had an unhealthy obsession with music. Christine prayed to a dead father who she believed serenaded her in her sleep. Her obsession with the violinist Daae had long ago taken a dangerous turn when another man used it to manipulate her. This was a man that they never spoke of--- a dark musician known as the Phantom of the Opera. A disfigured shell of a man who nurtured and taught Christine to sing from behind the opera house walls. Christine became lost in a fog with this creature the Phantom. She thought him to be her father, her angel, her protector and savior, but Raoul knew him only as a monster and a murderer.

The Phantom was nothing more than a plague on this earth and he was a disease that Christine must be protected from. Raoul had saved Christine from the grips of that monster long ago beneath the opera house and the police said the creature was dead. Yet in the pit of his stomach Raoul feared the creature was still lurking in the shadows, watching his Christine. Both knew her weakness---music. Raoul resolved on their wedding day that the only way to keep Christine safe was to deny her music. So he did.

At the beginning of the marriage Raoul and Christine fled from the streets and music of Paris altogether. The couple traveled the continent and lived in small yet fashionable villages. Raoul still had appearances to keep and was watchful of where his letters were postmarked. At first Christine seemed truly relieved to be rid of Paris and of music. She seemed content to have only Raoul. Not long after their first anniversary, Christine gave birth to the couple's son Philippe. Christine doted upon Philippe and poured herself into motherhood. She loved the idea of raising her son while traveling from town to town. It was, after all, how her father had raised her. Raoul, on the other hand, did not like the idea of his son living a gypsy's life. Why should the boy suffer for his mother's mistakes? So Raoul moved his wife and sin permanently to the de Chagny home in the heart of Paris.

With the return to Paris came the return of social expectations for the Vicomte de Chagny. Running around Europe with his young bride was all well and romantic, but he had a son to think of now. The life of an upper class gentleman required him to stay in the favor of prominent businessmen as well and those with inherited wealth. To do that one had to attend the best parities and be admitted to the best salons of the city. It was a task Raoul was well equipped to handle. Unfortunately for him, his bride was not. He knew that Christine could win their favor by singing for them, but he did want to send out such an open invitation to the creature that lurked in the shadows. Whether the Phantom was alive or truly dead, it did not matter. Even his ghost could tear Christine away from him and he would not have it. So as much as it pained him to see his wife alone and unwelcome at parties, he forbade her to use her musical talent to win friends.

But the return to Paris did make Christine long to find her voice again. While She was dutiful and adhered to her husband's edict, every time she heard her son's crying in this strange new house she desperately wanted to quiet his tears with a lullaby. She kept quiet for as long as she could stand it, but one night Christine snuck into her son's nursery and sang him the first of many forbidden songs. Whether her husband knew of her defiance she did not know, but it pleased her to have this secret musical time with her son. On warm nights she opened the windows and thought the wind itself was serenading her child. It was a quiet whispered duet. Christine began to come alive at night, when music once again filled her life.

It would not be for several more years before Christine de Chagny was able to become pregnant again. By them her son Philippe was already quite grown and did not care for her forbidden lullabies. Philippe only had time for the wonderful toys his father bought for him in the city. Philippe was his father's son and already keen to learn the delicate dance of upper class society. He ignored his mother and Christine desperately longed for another child---one she could call her own.

The pregnancy was difficult one and the birth nearly killed her. The doctor said her body would never fully recover form the ordeal. He said her womb was a twisted and barren now. This baby would be her last child. The little girl she named Margarete, or little Meg as she often called her. The baby was born so weak and sickly that the doctor said it would be a miracle if she lived more than a day. Christine, exhausted from the delivery, looked down at her child and thought her a perfect little miracle.

The room had emptied to discuss the graveness of the situation away from Christine's delicate ears and she took the private opportunity to pray. She prayed to the only angel she had ever known to actually come down from heaven and help her. She prayed to the Angel of Music. Christine asked him to grant her one-year with her child. She did not think herself worthy of a lifetime with her little Meg, though she would have gladly taken it. She felt a year was all she could ask for before heaven took her sweet girl back.

One day passed. Then two. A week passed and the baby still lived. The doctor and Raoul stood watchful bracing for the day the babe would die, but Christine stood knowingly that her prayer had been answered. The Angel of Music had helped her once again. Defiant, Christine openly sang to her daughter day and night. Raoul railed against her saying music would only curse their daughter. Christine paid him little attention saying he had his son and now she had her daughter. Margarete would know a life filled with nothing but song.

On the night the baby died, Christine held her daughter fast in her arms with the nursery windows wide open. She sang out into the night air and swore that the wind replied in a mournful duet. Margarete died one year and one day to the day of her birth.

The baby was buried in a tiny grave with a small marker. Christine wanted an angel statute for the grave but Raoul scolded her saying it would be in bad taste to show such extravagance. Christine begged her husband to reconsider. When he would not bend she related the story of her prayer to the Angel of Music. When she finished she thought surely he would understand it had to be an angel on Margarete's tomb. The Angel of Music was her reason for living. Raoul listened with calmness and civility. He paced trying to find the right words but found he could not break the news to her delicately.

Raoul explained to Christine that the baby died of exposure. The child had taken a chill due to Christine leaving the window open all night to sing to the wind. It was Christine's obsession with the Angel of Music that caused the baby's death. The child would not have died that night had it not been for Christine's negligence. Raoul had forbidden Christine to sing. This is what happens because of her foolish disobedience. Christine screamed that he was a liar. It was not true. Margarete was meant to die one year and a day after her birth.

Raoul and Christine were quiet and cold towards each other during the mourning period. Each thought the other at fault in the death of their child---he blamed Christine's naiveté and she blamed his atheistic disregard of her pact with the Angel of Music.

In time however, Christine began to see the truth in Raoul's version of events. She had never actually heard the Angel of Music answer her prayer. Her songs to the wind were just that. The wind never replied. The Angel of Music was not real. All of it was in her mind. She wanted so badly to believe in a fairy tale her father had made up for her, that she risked her marriage and killed her own child to do it. Raoul had been right all along. Music was a curse. It had robbed her of her daughter.

Raoul de Chagny was obligated to return to society after a proper mourning period, but his wife was not. Society did not want her, and yet in time Christine did want them. She thought that a normal life with a normal routine might help her forget Margarete. Christine began to attend the parities once again still sitting quietly in a corner ignored by the other guests. Raoul fell into his old jovial routine easily enough, but the callousness of society was often more than Christine's already fragile disposition could handle. Her attendance at parties became erratic though she did try to attend. Christine opted more and more to stay in seclusion in her own home. Her current absence from the parties and salons, having already stretched over several weeks, was one that every hostess Paris was secretly hoping would last forever. No one who was anyone in Paris cared a fig what happened to Christine de Chagny.