The “Phantom” Erik’s tragic situation as a man forced to live in a cave derives from his repulsive, skeleton-like appearance, which proves too horrific for others to witness. Although the novel takes pity on Erik’s circumstances, highlighting the injustice of being forced to live in solitude, it also offers no viable alternative: Erik is forced to accept that his talents as a singer will never come to light, and that he will never be forgiven for his ugliness. In this way, the novel denounces nineteenth-century theories about beauty, according to which physical deformity could be considered a reflection of one’s moral character. Ultimately, it is only in death that the novel offers some hope of justice: when Erik is dead, his skeleton resembles that of any other mortal, thus finally allowing him to be “normal”—the very status he tragically aspired to achieve throughout his life. The novel thus exposes the judgmental nature of society, which keeps perfectly admirable—yet unattractive—individuals from expressing themselves and contributing to the social and artistic life of humanity.
Erik’s extraordinary gift as a singer sets him apart from ordinary human beings, but the beauty of his voice is only apparent to others as long as he hides his physical deformity. This gestures to society’s preoccupation with appearances, as it conflates external beauty with moral goodness and ugliness with evil. On the one hand, Erik’s voice is so strikingly beautiful that it seems imbued with the divine: Raoul describes his voice as “a tranquil and pure fountain of harmony,” an expression of “musical grace.” On the other hand, the hideousness of Erik’s face associates him with the devil. When Raoul discovers Erik’s face, a skull covered in yellow, rotten flesh, he links this ugliness to evil: Erik’s eyes, he describes, “burned with the fire of Hell. I thought I was face to face with Satan himself.” Characters thus prove not only incapable of accepting Erik’s ugliness, but they can also conflate Erik’s physical repulsiveness with his moral worth, demonstrating a narrow understanding of the link between human behavior and appearances.
Affected by constant public rejection, Erik forgoes his artistic aspirations and dreams only of living a normal life. However, his inability to thrive in the human world condemns him to solitude—thus forcing him to live neither as a successful artist, nor as an ordinary human being. This tragic, unfair situation leads the narrator to conclude that readers must pity Erik and condemn society’s double standards. Following this idea, some characters do understand that Erik should be admired, not hated. Although Christine is horrified by Erik’s face, she pities him and understands his sadness. When she hears him sing his self-composed piece, Don Juan triumphant, Christine is overwhelmed by the power of Erik’s rendition, in which “Hideousness, soaring on the wings of Love, had dared to face Beauty.” In this moment, Christine temporarily grasps that Erik is a subversive figure, standing for something beyond what society usually allows: the potential for physical ugliness to be just as morally valid and acceptable as traditional beauty.
Nevertheless, unable to succeed by expressing the full range of his intelligence and talent, Erik is forced to survive by resorting to tricks and cunning. The narrator notes the injustice of this situation. He denounces society’s hypocrisy, which causes Erik “to hide his genius or squander it on tricks, whereas, with an ordinary face, he would have risen to greatness among his fellow-men! He had a big heart, large enough to embrace the entire world; but, in the end, he had to confine himself to a dismal cellar.” Echoing Christine’s frequent outbursts of compassion, the narrator concludes that, despite Erik’s misdeeds, readers must focus on his vulnerable side: “Poor, poor unhappy Erik! Should we pity him or should we curse him? He simply longed to be ‘someone’, someone normal. […] Yes, all in all, the Phantom of the Opera deserves our pity.” Implicitly, the novel thus determines that Erik is immoral not because of his ugliness but, rather, because society’s harsh judgment has caused him to become immoral. In other words, it is society’s rejection of unconventional appearances that breeds injustice and immorality—not the appearance of individuals.
Erik’s failure to integrate ordinary human life makes death—a state beyond social judgment—his only salvation. At the end of the narrative, when the narrator finds Erik’s skeleton (which he recognizes because of Erik’s distinctive ring), he realizes that Erik finally looks like everyone else, since “all men who have been long dead are the same.” In this way, Erik’s ugliness finally disappears and, in death, he can be considered equal to any other human being. This dismal ending, which highlights Erik’s humanity and vulnerability, underlines society’s intolerance for physical disability. It provides a pessimistic vision of society as a potentially cruel, exclusive group that condemns outsiders to suffering and death, as it superficially judges people on appearances alone.
Beauty vs. Ugliness ThemeTracker
Beauty vs. Ugliness Quotes in The Phantom of the Opera
Some claimed that it was a mark of immeasurable pride; others spoke of her saint-like modesty. Yet, as a rule, artists are rarely so modest; in truth I am rather tempted to ascribe her actions to sheer dread. Yes, I believe that Christine Daaé was frightened by what had just happened to her, and was as taken aback by it as everybody else around her. […] To suggest that Christine was taken aback or even frightened by her triumph is in fact an understatement: having reread the letter, I would say that she was terrified. Yes, yes, terrified. “I am no longer myself when I sing,” she wrote.
The Angel was never seen but could be heard by those who were meant to hear. This often happened when you least expected it, when you were sad and down-hearted. Then your ears would suddenly hear celestial harmonies, a divine voice, which you would remember for ever. Those who had been visited by the Angel were stirred. They experienced a thrill unknown to other mortals and henceforth could not touch an instrument or open their mouths to sing without producing sounds that put all other musicians to shame. The people who knew nothing about the angelic visitation called them geniuses.
Christine simply took off her mask and said: “It is a tragedy, Raoul!”
He now saw her face and could not suppress a cry of surprise and shock. Gone was her fresh, glowing complexion. No longer a reflection of her tranquil disposition and untroubled conscience, her face—so charming and gentle in former days—was deadly pale. How anguished she looked now! Her features were cruelly furrowed by sorrow and her beautiful, limpid eyes—Little Lotte’s eyes—had become wells of deep, dark, unfathomable mystery and were bordered with terribly doleful shadows.
It was a tranquil and pure fountain of harmony from which the faithful could safely and piously assuage their thirst, secure in the knowledge that they were partaking of musical grace. Having touched the Divine, their art was transfigured.
Hideousness, soaring on the wings of Love, had dared to face Beauty.
“You’re afraid of me! And yet, deep down, I am not a bad man. Love me and you’ll see! To be good, all I ever needed was to be loved for myself. If you loved me, I would be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do with me as you pleased.”
“I don’t express myself like other people. I don’t do anything like other people. But I am very tired of it! Tired of having a forest and a torture chamber in my home! Sick of living like a mountebank, in a house full of tricks! Yes, I am sick and tired of it all! I want a nice, quiet apartment like everyone else, with ordinary doors and windows, and a proper wife.”
Poor, poor unhappy Erik! Should we pity him or should we curse him? He simply longed to be ‘someone’, someone normal. But his hideous appearance would not allow it! And he had to hide his genius or squander it on tricks, whereas, with an ordinary face, he would have risen to greatness among his fellow-men! He had a big heart, large enough to embrace the entire world; but, in the end, he had to confine himself to a dismal cellar. Yes, all in all, the Phantom of the Opera deserves our pity.