The Phantom of the Opera

Raoul's jealous frenzy intensifies at the masked ball when he confronts Christine about the man behind the Angel of Music. He accuses her of trying to help her lover—dressed this night as Red Death—escape Raoul's confrontation, calling her "an opera wench" (99) to her face. Raoul mocks Christine sarcastically, asking, “For what hell are you leaving, mysterious lady…or for what paradise?” (100). Raoul’s outburst backfires, as Christine—who was planning to tell him everything that night—keeps her secret for even longer. Raoul’s emotions only settle when he sees the “unspeakably sad shadows” (101) on Christine's face under her mask. His anger flares up again when he sees the gold ring on Christine's finger the next day. He tries to force her to never see the Angel of Music again, deluding himself into believing Christine is under his “protection.” Christine and Mamma Valérius remind Raoul that Christine is “mistress of [her] own actions” (107), regardless of Raoul’s imagined attachment to the girl. Raoul's fickle emotions illustrate his own naivety and emotional inexperience, as he is only capable of feeling emotions in their extremes.

Raoul witnesses the power of the Angel of Music's voice for himself in Chapter 9. He witnesses the disembodied voice entering Christine's dressing room “as though the walls themselves were singing” (102), which causes Christine to act as if she is “under a very dangerous spell” (108). The voice itself has a lulling quality that “seemed to deprive [Raoul] of all his will and all his energy and of almost all his lucidity” (103). Although Raoul knows the voice comes from a man, the disorienting experience causes some doubt in his mind and almost makes him forget his task of watching over Christine. The "dazzling miracle" (102) of the mirror vanishing Christine from his sight doubly creates uneasy feelings that the Angel of Music has superhuman powers.

The mask symbol figures prominently in both Chapter 9 and Chapter 12, again representing hidden identities, but taking on the added quality of freedom of movement. At the Opera's ball, the masks offer guests the ability to interact with others in ways they normally wouldn't in regular society. Raoul finds that people of all classes assume a "bold familiarity" (96) with him, the masks allowing them to behave as equals. Christine and Raoul can also meet one another publicly under cover of the masks without bringing scandal to Raoul's family. Erik himself has the freedom to roam around the party, as his regular death's head mask seems natural among the others. Raoul, however, recognizes Erik's mask as the one he saw at Perros, so he has a sudden desire to “snatch off his mask” (99). Raoul believes that by seeing the Angel of Music's face, he will understand the truth of Christine's odd behavior. To Raoul, the mask symbolizes concealment and lies.

This section of chapters develops the Opera setting, dividing the structure into Erik's underground domain and Christine and Raoul's aboveground domain. The text describes the cellars and Erik's house using diabolical imagery, symbolically connecting Erik to devilry and Hell. The furnaces underground are adorned with demon-like gargoyles who “wield shovels and pitchforks and poke up fires and stir up flames” (126) as if they were the infernal guards of Erik’s home. Christine describes her descent into Erik's house as is going "into the very heart of the earth" (126), like one would descend into the afterlife. The boat Christine and Erik must use to cross the underground lake resembles the Greek legend of Caron, the ferryman of the underworld who shuttles the dead into Hades. Erik himself sleeps in a coffin, playing up his corpse-like appearance. Although Christine feels safer in the upper structure, the text emphasizes that her domain was “artificial.” The Opera’s various sets and craft-specific rooms represent the construction of reality, symbolizing the artificiality of Christine's control in this part of the building, as there is a possibility that Erik is always watching.

Christine reveals that her feelings for Erik are quite complicated. Christine is afraid to run away with Raoul because Erik will cause harm to countless others in his anger, but she is also afraid of running away from Erik because “it would be too cruel” (120). She is afraid to return to his underground house because “he is a demon" (119), but she feels bound to him because of her pity for his “immense and tragic love” (129). Christine was fully convinced that Erik was the Angel of Music sent from her father, so she obeyed his every wish. Although she recognizes he manipulated her grief, Erik also helped her gain her voice back, which was a tangible connection to her father. Mostly, Christine is afraid to live with Erik forever underground. Christine recognizes that Erik cannot be the total monster that Raoul thinks he is because of his pardonable displays of emotion at her feet:

Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness!…He confesses his cheat. He loves me! […] He has carried me off for love!…He has imprisoned me underground, for love!…But he respects me: he crawls, he moans he weeps! (129-130)

This display proves to Christine that Erik feels things deeply, and that although his actions were wrong, his intentions were tender. As Raoul understands and feels emotions in black and white, Christine's unclear feelings for Erik confuse and anger him. He believes if Erik was handsome, Christine would love him instead—and indeed, he thinks she loves Erik in the present moment, but won't admit it to herself.

The motif of music returns, expanding on its narrative use as a vehicle for passionate emotions. The feelings music produces has an obsessive quality for both Erik and Christine, who use music as an outlet for their emotions—either by playing it or listening to it. Christine is initially attracted to Erik's music because it reminds her of her father and is comforting. In Erik's underground home, Christine remembers that “though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice” (130), and his song has the power to soothe and calms her in the strange situation. Aside from using his musical talent to entice Christine, Erik also uses music to express the tragic and harrowing facets of his soul. His self-composed Don Juan Triumphant “expressed every emotion, every suffering of which mankind is capable” (135), which both frightened and “intoxicated” Christine. This symphony also provides comfort to Erik, as he plays it in response to being exposed by Christine “to forget the horror of the moment” (135). Erik sometimes lives only off composing for days at a time, showing how music acts for him as both physical and spiritual sustenance.