Unmasqued

Colette Gale Unmasqued

Parisians are always at a masked ball.

— Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

Many versions of the Paris Opera House and its alleged "Phantom of the Opera" have been told in the last century and a half. Gaston Leroux's tale has often been considered the most accurate because it was based on official reports filed in Paris at the time of the events in question.

Hollywood, in its turn, has interpreted the book in different ways, taking dramatic license where and when the producers and directors wished. The most famous version, the wildly successful stage musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber, subsequently adapted for film, promoted yet a different version of the story.

It was not until this author received the personal diaries of Miss Christine Daae (and validated their authenticity) that the true story became known: the story that appears in this volume.

Initially, this author's intention was to keep the diaries private in deference to Miss Daae's family, and that of the Chagny brothers, but upon further consideration, I came to feel that in all fairness to Christine and Erik, the truth could no longer be obscured.

For decades, as the romantic, horrific legend of the Phantom of the Opera has been told, Erik has been portrayed as a murderous villain, Christine as the helpless, manipulated ingenue, and Vicomte Raoul de Chagny as the brave, love-struck swain.

In fact, the actual events of those months at the Opera House are quite different from the official version promoted by Monsieur Leroux and the Parisian officials (most likely, in this author's opinion, in order to protect the reputation, and influence, of the Chagny family).

Much of what is purported to be fact by these sources apparently came from a mysterious individual identified only as "the Persian," who claimed to be an intimate of the Opera Ghost. In fact, in all research and in the documents that make up the basis of this authors studies, there is no such person or entity either described or alluded to. It can only be construed, then, that this mysterious personage was merely a figment of the imagination of Leroux and the Parisian officials, created in their attempt to clear all blame from the Chagny brothers.

Thus, the story that appears in this volume is taken directly, and in all explicit detail, from the diaries and journals of Christine Daae. I have also included details from her personal letters from the ballet mistress Madame Maude Giry, with whom Christine apparently developed a deep friendship after the events described herein.

This, then, is the entire story of Christine, Erik, and the Chagny brothers-the truth, once and for all.

— Colette Gale

August 2007

Part I: The Phantom of the Opera Chapter One

Paris, 1887

Christine closed her eyes as the heavy, sumptuous silk billowed down over her laced form. She'd never dreamed she'd wear a costume of such finery, with the glitter of so many gems and the gushing fall of lace from every edge and flounce. The silk was pale rose pink and the jewels a rainbow of crimsons, fuchsias, and peridot green. Lace of all tones of white-pure snow, blue white, eggshell, aged ivory-dripped from the sleeves and brushed the floor. Tiny rosettes of pink and red silk grew in the holes of the lace pattern.

The costume was heavy and smelled like Carlotta's cloying rose perfume, and when it surrounded her, it clogged Christine's nose and caused her eyes to water. The aroma was not the pure scent of roses sent by her Ange de Musique, the scent that she gladly buried her nose within and drew deeply from. The smell from Carlotta's discarded costume was rank and overpowering, just as Carlotta herself was.

Yet, and yet… Christine would wear it, for tonight she was to take the prima donna's place in more than her gown. She would sing the aria of Juliet, from Gounod's Romeo et Juliette, in front of the entire Opera House because Carlotta, the Opera House's star, had stormed off in a great snit earlier today.

During rehearsal, one of the backdrops had fallen from its moorings a bit too close to the very costume Christine was now donning, but which at that time had been worn by the diva Carlotta. She had just had the pleasure of meeting the Opera House's two new managers, Messieurs Moncharmin and Richard, when the wooden pole clattered to the stage. It brushed the edges of her gown, landing in a loud thump at her feet.