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thenightling · 4 years ago

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What might have Been (Sandman fan fiction)

What might have Been...

Someone out there really does not want me to write Sandman fan fiction so naturally I must write more.

This story was inspired by the fact that over on his Tumblr Neil Gaiman was asked on at least two occasions that if Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus, would he still have been condemned to eternal waking or if he would have shown mercy? Both times Neil Gaiman answered that Morpheus would have shown mercy. And yes, Neil Gaiman has a Tumblr. So this is a story of what may have happened of Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus back when he probably should have.

Note: This story does contain a depiction of early twentieth century homophobia and some period accurate slurs. Based on my own personal experiences as a non-straight person I understand if the scene might make some readers uncomfortable. However you might find the end result of what happens to the abuser somewhat cathartic.

What might have Been…

The boy stared intently at the glass cage in front of him. It was domed and rather egg-like in shape and tall enough to hold a man or something very man-like. The leadened quartz-crystal was as clear as any well-made window. Alexander Burgess watched the creature with the fascination of a child watching a pet lizard in a terrarium.

The naked being in the cage stared back at him with cold intensity and a proud contempt as well. The creature was pale as chalk, and his eyes were like back pools of water with twin stars serving as pupils floating in the darkness. Later Alex would be able to compare this vision to the claimed “Grey” alien encounters he would read about in grocery store tabloid magazines. One stark difference from those creatures though was that this creature had a shock of wild, black, hair that reminded Alex of a disorderly pile of raven feathers, thick and heavy hair that framed the pale face staring out at him from behind the glass. The creature was improbably thin. It was clearly intelligent and generally humanoid. If Alex hadn’t seen the summoning for himself, if he had not detached himself so thoroughly from the alienness of this entity, he might have even found him beautiful or attractive. But all potential for that had been lost to fear and the unavoidable and frightening knowledge that this was not a human being.

Alex did not know why he found The Creature so fascinating. He had discovered who and what the creature was in the Paginarum Fulvarum. The King of Dreams. That revelation had somehow not resolved his sense of curiosity. This was the being accountable for everyone’s dreams, all of humanity’s secret fantasies and all those shameful imaginings that come late at night when people are at their most vulnerable. For Alex there was a secret shame in his own dreams…

“I hate you.” Alex whispered. It was a childish proclamation but there was some hidden pain there. The bony, wraith-like, creature moved his head slightly, acknowledging Alex’s words without responding verbally. He never spoke to them.

Alex wasn’t even twenty-years-old yet but he knew he was not like other men. He was not “manly” by the usual definition of the term. And he believed that if his father knew about his secret yearnings, his Desires… He would be disowned…

It was this thing’s fault, wasn’t it? The cruel bastard there in the box. He was the one who gave him those dreams. The dreams that Alex dared not describe to anyone. Dreams of other young men. The feel of their lips against his face. The tingle through his scalp as the lips vibrate against his earlobe as something gentle and inviting was whispered into his ear. Their affection, their touch, their love… How Alex dreamt of that love, that sweet, terrible, sinful love. And why? Why was this such a taboo? His father had used magick for so many cruelties. He had even killed with it. So why were his desires, ones that could never hurt anyone, considered to be so much worse? …And who decided that a form of love could be deemed evil anyway? Wasn’t love supposed to be ultimate redeemer? The ultimate absolution? As far as young Alex was concerned humans and the powerful beings that governed the universe- they were all hypocrites. All of them! Hypocrites who took pleasure in the befuddlement of others by tempting them with …with deviant dreams…

Alex had enough of staring at the alien-like boogeyman there in the cellar. He got up off the cold, damp, floor where he had been seated, eye level with the crouching, naked thing. Almost staring each other down, as if in a contest of wills neither was entirely sure about. Alex stood up. Unlike the pale creature imprisoned there, Alex could leave. He could leave at any time. …Then why did he feel just as trapped as if he was the one in the glass bubble?

The months passed and not much had changed. Alex had grown a bit, but that was normal. He had read somewhere that some men grow until they’re twenty-five. He was taller, leaner. He discovered he needed spectacles, which wasn’t too surprising. He had squinted often when reading father’s dusty old books.

One thing was different though. Father had hired a new gardener. A pretty, red-haired boy, barely Alex’s own age. And Alex had the distinct feeling that perhaps this young man was also… different. Different in his capacity to feel for men what most men usually only feel for women (or so Alex believed).

It was a warm summer afternoon when Father finally took notice of Alex and the peculiar way he watched the gardener. Alex, whom he often ignored. Roderick Burgess found it distasteful and rather Crowley-esque that his own son should look at another man in that way. He watched as Alex observed the gardener. Roderick hoped what he was seeing here wasn’t what it appeared. But it seemed so. Alex was as infatuated with the near androgynous gardener boy in a way that he should only feel toward women. Well, something must be done about that!

“Father, please!” Alex tried to shield himself with his arm as his father’s heavy, old, walking stick came crashing down on him again. “You are an EMBARRASSMENT! The heir to the Order of Ancient Mysteries, my ONLY son… a worthless, useless… Mary!” There was another crack from the gentleman’s cane being used in a very ungentlemanly fashion. “No, Father, I… Magus. Magus, Please, I-“ “It’s that boy, isn’t it? That Elliot? Well, he doesn’t work here anymore! I sent him away. You’re lucky I don’t just stop his heart to rid myself of this shame!” He was one to talk of Shame. His father, the infamous occultist, rival to Aleister Crowley, head of The Order of Ancient Mysteries, and source of scandal after scandal. The papers always had something to say about Father. They never spoke about Alex. Alex knew how to keep a low profile, to keep to himself, to go virtually unnoticed in his father’s shadow. The threat to stop Elliot’s heart was very real. Alex knew his father had enough magick to do such a thing to someone without the occult means to defend himself. “No! He’s innocent!” “Innocent?!” What did that matter to someone like Roderick? Alex had always been too damn soft and now he had gone over to fairyland as far as Roderick was concerned. Well, at least he knew his son hadn’t soiled his bed with his deviance yet- he had not acted out his profanity in the house, at least there was that. “Look at you! You’re a disgrace!” Alex was cowering and crouched in the corner of his room, which was in disarray from his father’s attack. He knew he couldn’t hide what he was from him. His father was just too powerful…

It also didn’t help that Alex had kept those old novels under his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, a few selected Greek myths carefully bookmarked in a thick, leather-bound, volume, and the closet drama Goethe’s Faust parts 1 and 2 translated perfectly from German into English. Anyone with the ability to read between the lines, as they say, could tell what Mephisto’s relationship with Faust was really all about… Alex couldn’t tell what was worse, the words his father said or the cane coming down again and again. He was too afraid to fight back. There was no telling what his father or his father’s minion might do if he tried. Sometimes he had nightmares of his father’s darker wrath, much more extreme than this. “You dress like a fairy! Look at you! Growing your hair out like a girl, walking around in long velvet jackets like they’re frocks! You think you look like Henry Irving or something? No, you look like a little girl! No woman will ever find you attractive. I should have realized, the way you bury yourself in those books, like a little wanna-be priest.” Alex saw nothing wrong with dandy fashion and as for his hair, plenty of respectable men had hair longer than his. His hair wasn’t even really shaggy. Oscar Wilde’s hair had been longer than this at the time of his death. Though he knew that was, as far as his father was concerned, an awful example. He whimpered and tried to wait out the pain and dared not argue the accusations. “They stare at you, you know.” Roderick continued in his tirade to shame him. Alex knew the only person who actually scrutinized what he wore was his own father. He kept to himself too much to be the focus of anyone else’s attention. “You think I don’t see it? How they turn and look at you and whisper on the street what a pansy you are. Maybe if you dressed normal you wouldn’t forget you’re supposed to be a man!” No one was actually saying he was a pansy. That was clearly Father’s own insecurity about his masculinity talking.

“Clean yourself up.” Roderick said, finally too exhausted to beat him anymore. And in an after-thought “If anyone asks, you fell off a horse like the clumsy idiot you are.”

Roderick walked from the room, gentleman’s cane (if you could call it that) still clutched in his hand.

Alex slowly pulled himself to his feet. He was trembling yet, and sniffling, trying to choke back the threatening sobs. �� Alex had long ago abandoned the childish (as he saw it) hope that a parent’s love was truly unconditional. The child in him still insisted it was supposed to be unconditional, that parents are supposed to love you and accept no matter what, and Alex still craved his father’s approval and acceptance. It had been some naïve governess from Alex’s childhood who had taught him that foolish notion he could not shake, that a parent should love you without condition. And he never could quite let go of that belief even if all of his life experiences insisted that no parent (at least his parent) could not love in that way… Could Roderick Burgess love at all?

Alex finally left his badly disheveled room once he was certain his father was no longer nearby. There were papers and books scattered, along with a knocked over chair and some random knickknacks. Some ceramic and glass items were broken, fragments of childhood playthings lay on the carpet. Something had broken tonight and it was not merely some old toys… Alex walked …or more precisely he stumbled, down the hall. Alex’s back ached where he had gotten the brunt of the caning. He knew the marks were going to scar. Everything ached. His shoulders, his legs, especially his back. One eye was blackened and his cheeks were red from the heat of crying. He wiped furiously at his own tears. It was foolish to cry. And it was dangerous to dream…

He would never really be free. He was as much his father’s prisoner as the creature down in the cellar… If he tried to run away he knew his father and his magick would find him. And… he had nowhere to go anyway… Even if his situation was “Normal” and there was no fear of magical ramifications for his defiance, to whom could he turn? Where could he run? There was no sanctuary for someone like him…

Alex made his way to the secret passage, to the stone staircase that spiraled its way down to the windowless chamber. He knocked on the heavy wooden door and announced himself for the two guards his father had watching the prisoner. One of the guards opened the door for him. They knew better than to question the boy’s condition but there was a slight trace of pity in at least one of them, a softening to the man’s usually unreadable expression. Alex managed to steadily walk to the glass cage, hiding that he was in pain. He slowly laid his hand against the cool glass. “Please leave us.” “But the Magus says-“ One of the men started to protest. “My... Father,” Alex practically spat the word, “is the one who pays you. And I speak on his behalf. Now go!” The men exchanged looks and then shrugged, deciding not to argue with the young man. They both were eager to have a tea and coffee break anyway. Alex lowered his hand and stood outside the cage. He looked at the pale, emaciated figure behind the glass. He had never changed. Not since the day they had captured him. He had not aged, nor had he grown a beard. And yet Alex felt as if he, himself, had changed so very much in that time. Changed in such a way that he saw now that he was in no better of a situation than this creature here. Trapped in darkness, trapped behind the glass, unable to touch or be touched. Alone… Naked, exposed. Everyone could see everything about him. And yet he- The King of Dreams- was unashamed. Proud. Not trembling or cowering from a brute of a father. Alex’s contempt for the creature mingled with long, distant fear, was now being replaced by a different emotion. Something not unlike empathy and maybe even envy. Envy at the defiance of will, envy at the hidden power that such a fragile, delicate looking thing could have… Almost beautiful. The King of Dreams was almost beautiful…

Alexander Burgess saw this weakened, helpless wretch, and he saw himself. A prisoner locked away from light. A prisoner stripped of dignity. Utterly at his father’s mercy until he said or did what his father wanted… Would this proud creature eventually cower and break as Alex felt like he had broken. Alex bit his lip. If he freed this creature it… he might kill him… or worse… But maybe… Whatever his fate might be, it was better than this. Right now, as it stood, they were both prisoners. But if he freed him, this so-called King of Dreams… At least one of them would be free. And Alex would have some small revenge on his father, the Magus of The Order of Ancient Mysteries… Maybe it was some half-hearted attempt at self-destruction, a suicide without noose or razor- that Alex felt he would either die by this creature’s hand or by his father’s but he wanted this thing to end and let it end tonight. This felt like the only true way to end it. Alex had gotten a hold of the heavy brass key and placed it into the lock at the base of the crystalline cage. He was really doing it. The key fit easily into the hole of the metal base just within the binding circle’s confines. Alex dragged his foot over the old, chalk, binding circle, deliberately breaching it, as he turned the key. The crystalline cage opened at a discrete seam. The pale figure stood up slowly, cautiously, moving like an uncertain animal. He blinked those wide, black eyes, like doe reacting to being offered food by a human.

The King of Dreams stepped out of the cage and toward Alex. He tentatively moved beyond the binding circle as if worried that Alex might change his mind and try to stop him, or perhaps that someone else might. Alex stepped back but only slightly. Alex waited for whatever was to come next. The pale figure moved to him, the glassy black eyes stared at him, stared deep into his own and for a brief moment Alex felt… understood... maybe even accepted. And most importantly he felt… forgiven. Not for the sin of what he was- this creature saw that as no crime, but for how he had treated him. For taking part in the summoning spell, for being complacent in his father’s abuses and humiliation of this proud entity. “I’m sorry…” Alexander said, swallowing back fresh tears. “I’m sorry… It was my father, he…” The pale figure put a finger to his own lips.* “Shhh.” Alex was trembling, afraid of what he might do next. And for a second, there was such a softness to the usually cold creature and a slender hand touched Alex’s cheek but only for a brief moment. Alex had never heard him speak and he was startled by the soft sound of an audible voice coming from him. He didn’t say anything really other than the “Shhh.” Alex blinked several times. The King of Dreams moved past Alex, toward the stairs. Alex went to bed shortly after that as if nothing had happened. He had just felt so very tired. He tried to behave as if he had not just released his father’s prisoner. The next morning though things were different. Alex had slept peacefully and felt quite well rested. Even his black eye had seemed to have mostly healed and his back didn’t hurt anymore. There would be no scars after all. But something was wrong in the house of Fawny Rig. The servants were in a tither. Roderick Burgess would not wake form his sleep. He was alive. And he seemed to be dreaming. He would moan and mutter, and occasionally whimper or beg for it to stop, crying out in his sleep, but he would not waken. Alex stood to the side of the bed. “Father! Father, please! It’s me, Alex! Please wake up! …Please.” But the situation was hopeless.

And despite everything he had suffered at his father’s hands Alex still grieved. He wept as if his father was dead and he knew his father’s fate was worse than death. Alex still mourned. Alex still pined for what might have been, still longed for a father that would love him unconditionally and accept him for who and what he was without question. If the world’s most infamous sorcerer couldn’t even do that… who could? Who could… love him?

Alex was scared. He had been in his father’s shadow so long he did not know how to function without him and he had been so isolated, he had so few friends. All he could do was rely on the servants, the lawyers, and his father’s money to support himself. His father was moved to the hospital and eventually diagnosed with some sort of Encephalitis Lethargica. A sort of brain swelling related sleeping sickness but Alexander Burgess knew better… Somehow he knew…

His father would never wake up… The years passed and everything that was Roderick’s passed into Alex’s hands. His father died years later in that hospital bed but Alex was not sure of his father’s nightmares were truly over. He imagined his father’s soul was still trapped somewhere, still suffering an endless nightmare leading into another nightmare, and each time he thought he was waking he would just find himself in yet another new nightmare. Somehow Alex knew this. Where his father was now condemned to eternal waking did he know his body had died or did he have a futile hope that he would one day wake up?

The estate, Roderick’s fortune, everything was now Alex’s. No one was there to be critical or to tell Alex what to wear, how to speak, or… who he could love. And Alex eventually met a beautiful young man named Paul. Oh, how he loved Paul. They would travel to such places together. London, France, Berlin… They traveled together on a private yacht and drank Champaign on the deck as they watched the sunset over the Mediterranean Sea. There was no secret prisoner to worry about, nothing to shackle them to Fawny Rig like Dorian Gray shackled to his painting. They could go anywhere. They could do anything. They were free. And Alexander Burgess lived Happily Ever After… It was a pleasant dream. Too pleasant…

Elderly Alexander Burgess woke in a cold sweat. There were fresh tears in his eyes. He sat up in bed and Paul was there beside him. At least there was that… At least Paul was there. Paul was real.

But that’s not how the story played out, not really. Alex had never been brave enough to defy his father. He had not slipped down to the cellar the night that he should have. He had never freed the prisoner. Even when his father had died he had never freed the prisoner that he both resented and related to. And he had been the one punished with six years locked in a nightmare that would seem to end only to reveal a new nightmare was starting, and on and on it had gone. He had woken from that “eternal” curse to his beloved Paul waiting for him. He had been forgiven. He was relieved that Paul was here. Paul looked at him now. “What is it, love? Did you have a bad dream?” Alex nodded. “I don’t know what’s worse… that nightmare that I was trapped in or…” He bit his lip before choosing the words. “…knowing I could have saved us all… saved myself…if I had just done the right thing at the right time…”

“Hush now, darling. You’re still half-asleep. I’ll get you some tea.” Alex was soothed and sighed. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. But sometimes those dreams of what he could have done- what he should have done, if he had just been brave enough… Sometimes that felt so much worse than the actual punishment the Lord of Dreams had subjected him to before finally forgiving him…

But at least he was safe now. At least he had Paul. And at least he had been forgiven. And he was loved and accepted for who and what he truly was. And his cruel, old father, was very much dead. A loveless old man was gone. But Alex was alive. Paul was alive. And they were in love. And no one could take that away from them. And Alex and The King of Dreams were both free from the shadow of Roderick Burgess forever.

There was no point on dwelling on what might have been. That did not matter now. What mattered was the love that Alex had finally found and the freedom that he and The King of Dreams both had gained.

The End

#The Sandman #Sandman #The Sandman Fan fiction #What Might have been...

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biblioklept · 5 years ago

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Fantasy Based on Goethe’s Faust — Theodor von Holst Fantasy Based on Goethe's Faust, 1834 by Theodor von Holst (1810–1844)

#Art #Theodor von Holst

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abouttogetdicey · 5 years ago

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How about Changeling, Elf, and Gnome?

🔮 changeling: Share a childhood memory. Oh! So, when I was a kid, I use to go cavorting through the sage riddled foothills of Idaho to catch grasshoppers and praying manti and other bugs. One year, my best friend and I accidentally stumbled across the nest of a pheasant. We scared her and she flew up into the air and she scared us! We didn’t know what she was and she was huge compared to us (I think we were 6?) For about a week after, we would put on our bike helmets and pads and other makeshift armor when heading into that field, in case the monster attacked us again! 🌳 elf: What do you like to rest and relax? Right now, I like playing Bloodborne in my time off. This probably doesn’t sound relaxing at all, but I’m loving it! If I don’t have a video game to fixate on, I like to listen to music while hanging out with my lizards, or have a beer and watch music videos or vine compilations.

⚙️ gnome: What is your favorite piece of art, music or literature? Oh Jeeze. This is fucking hard. I consume so much art and media. I suppose, overall, anything to do with Faust or Faustian tales? I collect them. I have tones of symphonies, rock operas, songs, books, and art all based on the Faust legend and other Faustian tales. I am particularly fond of Marlowe’s version, though there is something to be said about the hopeful nature of Goethe’s. My favorite fantasy artist is Peter Mohrbacher. I have a tone of his art signed, even a limited edition playmat for Magic!

#d&d ask meme #ask the dm

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thetygre · 6 years ago

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30 Day Monster Challenge - Day #20: Favorite Song/Musical Monster

1. The Phantom of the Paradise

Phantom of the Opera has spawned plenty of spin-offs and parodies, but none are weirder and cooler than The Phantom of the Paradise. Born in that stage-musical wasteland between the sinking of Hello Dolly and the rise of Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Paradise was a bizarre rock-opera that was a mixture between the Phantom of the Opera, Faust, and The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Our Phantom this time around is named Winslow; he didn’t start off deformed, but got that way through prison experiments and a record press accident. Winslow just looks and sounds awesome; his teeth are made of iron, and he talks through a voicebox that sounds like a ghost screaming through a CB radio. The entire movie has a bird theme to its characters, so Winslow’s helmet winds up looking like a hawk. In fact, a lot of people probably only know about this musical through the comparison between Winslow and Griffith from Berserk. It doesn’t help that their stories are kind of similar; locked in prison, mutilated, deal with the forces of evil. It’s probably just a coincidence, but I’m not gonna’ lie and say it wouldn’t be a cool reference if it wasn’t. Still, people should give this movie a chance on its own merits, just because of what campy fun it is.

2. Lilith Immaculate

Cradle of Filth is a symphonic black metal band with a distinct gothic horror bent to their albums. They’ve done several concept albums, including one based around Gille de Rais and another on Elizabeth Bathory, but Darkly Darkly Venus Aversa was an original story. At the center of the album’s story is the monstrous goddess Lilith, trapped by the Knights Templar during the crusades and now possessing a girl sent to a nunnery. It’s all so incredibly gothic; sins of the past, sexual frustration, religious oppression, graveyards, doomed love.

I might not be the best judge of character, but Lilith here hits the nail with the hammer as far as gothic monsters go, reminding me a little of The Great God Pan or Gormenghast. Part of Lilith’s appeal is that, for all intents and purposes, she wins; the album ends with her former lover realizing that he has unleashed something he could never control, and now the world is doomed. Lilith heralds the dawning of a darker age, the antithesis of everything Victorian values holds dear. You can’t help but cheer for her as she readies to make war on the world.

3. Stanton Cree

Ghoultown is a gothabilly band, which means that it’s like rockabilly but with some Southern rock and it’s about ghosts and vampires and werewolves. Needless to say, they’re pretty great. Their best known song is probably Drink with the Living Dead, which tells the story of a cowboy forced into a drinking match with an undead gunslinger. The ghoul, Stanton Cree, shot a man for his beer and can’t rest until someone beats him in either drinks him under the table or beats him in a duel.

I love ‘Weird West’ songs, and Ghoultown is the epitome of that. Stanton Cree has gone insane from eternal life and is determined to find somebody to beat him, but he won’t go easy on his opponent. It’s the kind of story that belongs in Deadlands or some other cowboy horror setting. It lacks the morality tale aspect of Ghost Riders, but that’s a deliberate decision to emphasize just how bizarre the story is. It’s a perfect mood piece for a dark night out on the Wastes.

4. The Erlking

Schubert’s Erlking is an old-fashioned fairy, the dangerous and wild kind that need to be feared. As a father rides through the forest at night, his son sees the Elf King trying to seduce him to come away with him. It’s always nice to be reminded that fairies and elves aren’t nice, that they can be as dangerous as any monster or demon. But it needs to be done with a certain degree of subtlety, at least for a while, a delicate touch before the other shoe drops.

The Erlking is of course also a metaphor for death, and the father believe his son is only hallucinating as he dies in his father’s arms. It reminds me of the old medieval stories about how Fairyland was sometimes just a trap made by Hell, or how fairies would appear in afterlife narratives for children. Whether death, fairy, hallucination, or all three, the Erlking is still a chilling figure.

5. The Phantom of the Opera

I don’t claim to be in the Phandom, I only have a surface knowledge of it, but I feel like the Phantom is still an important monster/horror icon, even before becoming a musical star. The Phantom’s story, even from the beginning, has been about toxic people and learning to grow up. Born deformed, the Phantom embittered himself against the world, becoming a genius at music, engineering, and just about everything else, but a child socially. The lesson he learns is about putting another person’s wants and needs before your own, and that’s still a vital lesson that is incredibly painful to learn. Naturally, I don’t care about that; I just enjoy making fun of Love Never Dies and deciding which Phantom is the best based on grodiness of deformity. Obviously, that’s up to objective taste, but it’s Ramin Karimloo. Karimloo has the most extreme deformities, and is prone to fits of ACTING, so Karimloo takes top spot for musical Phantom. The best non-Musical Phantom is, of course, Lon Chaney, followed by Charles Dance, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Again I’m… I totally don’t care about this musical. I swear.

6. Mefistofele

I would argue that Boito’s Mephistopheles is the definitive version of the character, even more than Goethe’s. If nothing else, Boito’s Mefistofele defined the look of Mephistopheles, casting him in his famous red cavalier’s outfit. Mephistopheles here is also much more analogous to the Devil than his own separate entity here, since the opera begins with Mephistopheles challenging God to a bet over Faust’s soul. While Mefistofele might not be where the devil started enjoying his work, it’s definitely a far cry from Marlowe’s Mephistopheles urging Faust not to give up Heaven.

Still, despite the loss of complexity, Boito’s Mephistopheles is more personable, more charming, even a bit more human. There are situations he can’t control, and his relationship with Heaven is more casual. In the end, when Faust repents, you get the feeling that Boito’s Mephistopheles was enjoying the ride, and is almost as upset about not being able to have fun anymore as he is about losing his bet with God.

7. The Water God

Anything by Dethklok kind of feels like cheating, since they were explicitly made to be a parody band of death metal. At the same time, though, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that the entire underwater setting where sea monsters have race wars with mermaids isn’t the dopest shit. And then one of these sea monsters finds a deep sea oracle and they turn into some dark ocean god and it’s all so freaking cool. It is unnecessarily cool for a joke band meant to shill for an Adult Swim show. But the entire epic of the water god here is genuinely more compelling to me than a decent chunk of the fantasy characters I have read about. Maybe I need to read better fantasy stories, or maybe everyone else just needs to get with the program and starting writing Metal epics about killer tritons.

8. Ghost Riders in the Sky

Now this is the original Weird West song. Demon bulls, undead cowboys, nightmare horses; this song has got it all. And of course, this all goes without saying about how the song is also the unofficial theme song for Ghost Rider, one of my favorite superheroes. The song has that same ‘weird tale’ feel that Drink with the Living Dead has, which is probably because it’s based on an actual Texas folk tale. The image of a special Hell for cowboys is interesting, but I’m more fascinated by the prospect that Satan has livestock. Are all the Devil’s farm animals Metal like his steer? What about his chickens? Does Satan live on a giant dude ranch? Now I want some kind of Western/dark fantasy story where the Devil is a cattle baron all dressed in black and red.

9. Red

All Dogs Go to Heaven 2 was… God, I’m really putting this on the same list as Mefistofele good lord, but All Dogs Go to Heaven 2 was, well All Dogs go to Heaven 2. I mean it wasn’t the worst direct-to-video cartoon sequel of anything ever, it kind of just drifts there around the middle, but like many DTV cartoon sequels it has, unfortunately, a really great villain with a really great villain song. Designated antagonist Red is a demonic cat who’s after the angel Gabriel’s horn. His design is actually pretty good, and I appreciate the implication that if all dogs are heavenly, then all cats are therefore demonic minions. This is of course a known truth to anybody who has ever had to clean a litterbox, but it’s always nice to be reassured.

However, that alone would not let Red make the list; it takes more than being the redeeming feature of a DTV cartoon sequel to get here. What clenches it is Red’s pedigree; Red is voiced by Broadway musical veteran George Hearn, who has been in everything from Camelot to Wicked, but is most famous for being Sweeney Todd during the musical’s performance in 1970, and stayed with the production through its national tour and its Emmy-winning TV performance. In short, this man was the definitive Sweeney Todd, at least until Johnny Depp. All Dogs 2 even acknowledges it by having an entire sequence set in a demonic barber shop and theater. And I’m just a sucker for that kind of reference, so the evil red cat edges his way in.

10. The Beast of Pirate’s Bay

There are plenty of Voltaire songs I could have picked, but it figures I would pick the one about a sea monster. A variety of leviathans are conjured up to describe the Beast, without any actual answers given. It figures that like any good tall tale, the Beast changes from teller to teller. The truth is, though, that I find this to be one of Voltaire’s more sympathetic songs, and I can’t help but identify with the ending. Once upon a time there was a little me who loved sea life more than anything else too. The song takes a lower spot because of the actual nature of the monster, but the feeling still shines through.

#30 Day Monster Challenge 2 #30 Day Monster Challenge #Phantom of the Paradise #Cradle of Filth #opera #musical #Phantom of the Opera #long post

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alifeoffairytales · 7 years ago

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Theodor von Holst, fantasy based on Goethe’s ‘Faust’ (1834)

#Theodor von Holst #Goethe #Faust #1830s #art #illustration #literature #classics #dark #fantasy #vintage #books

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mysterious-secret-garden · 1 year ago

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Fritz Roeber - Walpurgisnacht (Walpurgis Night), 1910.

Several artists have produced composite fantasy views of Walpurgis Night which centre on the figure of Gretchen. Theodor von Holst’s Fantasy Based on Goethe’s ‘Faust’ (1834) puts Mephistopheles beside her as she stirs a witches’ cauldron. Holst was a Latvian who settled in London in 1807. He became a pupil of Henry Fuseli, and followed his teacher’s themes and style.

Fritz Roeber’s Walpurgis Night Scene from ‘Faust’ from about 1910 shows Gretchen standing in white, with her eyes shut tight. To the left of her are Mephistopheles, in red, and Faust. They are surrounded by flying witches holding pitchforks, and in the background are the rocky slopes of the Brocken.

#Fritz Roeber #Walpurgisnacht #Walpurgis Night #witch #Gretchen #witchcraft #demons #faust #death

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monster-brains · 7 years ago

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Theodor von Holst - Fantasy Based on Goethe’s ‘Faust’ 1834

http://monsterbrains.blogspot.com/2017/11/theodor-von-holst-fantasy-based-on.html

#Faust #Theodor von Holst

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theotherwesley · 7 years ago

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Wesley Watches And Rates All The Faust Operas

You thought I was kidding, but here we are:

*I am not an expert, and my advice should never be followed. I am but a humble nerd with a passion, dragging you along on my youtube-tour. You probably shouldn’t quote me, but using this as a starting point and guide to this particular musical and literary phenomenon is encouraged! The information below was gleaned largely from wikipedia, vague memories of my BA degree, and my own assessment of the source materials.

My ratings are based on my subjective enjoyment, and a few preferential criterion such as: 1) Was Mephistopheles fuckable, 2) Did I get to see an orgy of witches, 3)Does Marguerite pass the Sexy Lampshade Test, and 4) Was Faust Dragged to Hell.

Preliminary Notes: originally, the legend of Doctor Faust came from the sixteenth century and was inspired by one man (or possibly two who were later conflated), Johann SpidersGeorg Faust, who was your average practitioner of Renaissance Magic. He was not an especially savory individual; he had racked up quite a criminal record and been boastful enough of his “christlike” abilities to heal the sick and perform miracles that he’d seriously annoyed the church. He was denied entry into a city due to accusations of Necromancy and Sodomy. Being an alchemist, Faust got up to some particularly adventurous chemistry experiments, the last of which failed so spectacularly that his lab exploded and the doctor was reduced to his component parts. His remains after death were so gruesome that his colleagues came to the obvious conclusion: He’d been personally dragged to Hell by Satan himself. AND THUS WAS A LEGEND BORN.

The story of Faust was told and disseminated in sixteenth century chapbooks (early printing-press zines, if you will) as a dramatic morality tale. It is from the chapbooks we originally get the character of Mephistopheles, the pact exchanging 24 years of service for the soul, the famulus named Wagner, the wild adventures through various courts, and the conjuration of Helen of Troy. Aside from in the chapbooks, there is one version of Chrisopher Marlowe’s play Doctor Faustus, where the titular character is torn asunder by demons as he is dragged to hell-- but unfortunately for me, a known B-movie horror enthusiast-- this ending appears in no subsequent retellings of the Faust legend. Cowards.

Goethe’s play Faust is obviously the most famous adaptation of the legend, and through it the legend turns from a cautionary tale to a story of hubris, love, faith, and philosophy. If you’re not already familiar with Faust, you might take a moment to read it or at least check out the act summaries. You’ll understand everything that references it a lot better if you do, even if you just read Part I (the second part gets a bit tedious unless you have a fetish for Herodotus and metaphysics-- but there’s a cute homunculus in a bottle! and talking sphinxes and griffons! and kinky rose petals! Angel butts!!!).

Armed with this knowledge, let the opera tour begin:

Faust (1816, Louis Spohr)

--The Libretto with English translation

--Playlist of the whole opera

It’s very pretty! The style and over-all sound reminds me of a Mozart opera, which, I guess, is not too surprising considering they were more or less contemporaries who trained and worked in similar circles. (Louis Spohr! He did collaborations with Beethoven! He invented the violin chinrest! Who knew! Not me! Anyway--) This Faust is not based on either Marlowe or Goethe’s Faust, but rather some miscellaneous adventures from the early Faust legends and chapbook pamphlets. In this version Faust ensnares a devil named Mephistopheles to his service, vowing to use his powers for the good of mankind. Great plan! That always goes well!

There’s a love potion, a flying cape, a duel with an outraged rival-- all the usual necessities for a Faust story, only now there’s not one but TWO young women screwed over by Faust’s philandering! (His first love, Röschen, and erstwhile damsel-in-distress, Kunilingus. ....*checks notes*, sorry, no, “Kunigunde”). Mephistopheles is cattily insightful, the wronged women team up to avenge themselves against their seducer, and yes, yes indeed, Faust Is Dragged To Hell!

The poetry of the libretto is quite pleasing, it’s got some great dialogue and epic fantasy sequences. Mephistopheles puts on show of infernal pyrotechnics with 17th century stage effects, all of them tremendous fire hazards. Someone gets dragged to Hell by a chorus of dancing goblins before Act 1 even finishes-- O my cup runneth over! We get the witches’ sabbath atop Mt Blocksberg, there’s a guest appearance by Sycorax, everyone gets real horny up there with a love potion, it’s great.

Mephistopheles seems to be on the ladies’ side in the story (as much as he’s on any human’s side), in that he cautions them not to trust Faust, and urges them on when they FREAKING TEAM UP AND GO TO SEEK VENGEANCE. Oh my god it’s so great. Kunigunde attacks Faust and Faust freaks out and tells Mephistopheles to save him and Meph is all “what’s that? I don’t know, suddenly I can’t read”. Meph is also the one doing all the actual rescuing of distressed maidens, at Faust’s behest. He views Faust’s attempts to break the laws of Love and Nature with contempt, knowing that Faust’s soul is on the fast track to Hell. There’s no actual pact here; Meph is the one being held hostage. He makes sure that Faust doesn’t enjoy any of the spoils of his sorcery, so Faust’s ennui and dissatisfaction remain the same as before he began his quest to “Use Hell’s Powers For Good”.

And just quick review of the scoreboard: Faust used his powers to do 1 (one) useful thing with his power before he ruined a bunch of people’s lives in quick succession, murdering Kunigunde’s betrothed and driving Rose to suicide. He still cries about it and the “rich seeds of Good he sowed” but Meph is having none of it and HE. DRAGS. THAT. BOY. TO. HELL!!!!!!! EXEUNT.

Rating: 4/5 Stars. Better than expected! I want a revival of this version! With stabbing! And special effects! Mephistopheles is truly doing the Lord’s work here, no offense to his demonship. Lost some points with me for being so very, very heavy on the pining and lovesick maidens, but won me back when the lovesick maidens picked up daggers.

Faust and Marguerite (1855, Lutz) and Faust up to Date (1888, Lutz)

Straight up can’t find this one! But this early silent film short is apparently based on it? IDK folks, if you have a recording of this you’d like to share with me, I’d be delighted to hear it.

As for the burlesque, I suspect it hasn’t actually been performed since 1888. But the music is pretty cute! The Pas de Quatre, aka “Skirt Dance” seems to be the only track that’s stuck around. Here it is played on an old disc music box.

Rating: ???

La damnation de Faust (1846, Berlioz)

--Libretto in French and English

--La Damnation de Faust with Jonas Kaufmann --I like this one because Faust is super duper cute and this Mephistopheles reminds me of an OC makes yellow work.

--This is the first of what I’m called The Big Three Faust Plays; all modeled after Goethe’s Faust specifically, written within roughly ten years of each other, and which feature the most well-known arias that I’m aware of.

This opera positively reeks of Romanticism; it’s got Byron out the ears, it’s wading through Wordsworth, it’s doing the Grand Tour, it’s gazing mournfully from the top of Mont Blanc, contemplating Nature and the Human Spirit. It’s Berlioz, buckle up.

The beginning is obviously Faust wallowing in ennui. He considers suicide, but is interrupted by a timely reminder of Christianity. Suddenly the devil appears in order to take advantage of a soul precariously teetering on the edge between redemption and damnation. In this version, the devil does not announce himself as the devil, but rather as the ~Spirit of Life~, here to show Faust the joys of the world. (There’s no pact at first, Meph is just “get in bitch we’re going debauching” and Faust’s like “aight” and they’re off.) The devil takes Faust on a fun tour of life’s noteworthy attractions such as “Drunk Student Karaoke”, “Dancing Gnomes”, and “A Nice Forest Nap”.

During his magical nap Faust sees a vision of Marguerite (later we learn she has simultaneously dreamed of Faust) and falls in love. He awakes with the usual boner for this Maiden of Radiant and Humble Virtue who Nature Hath Sheltered In Perfect Simplicity, because that’s always a big turn-on. Meph steers the course of their interactions very carefully, using magic and fairies and wisps to enchant the couple’s surroundings to ensure they are surrounded by romantic atmosphere the whole time. Once they’ve gotten into some heavy necking, he bursts in and tells them that the whole town is coming with pitchforks and also someone’s told the girl’s mother and they’re in big trouble. Faust flees.

Everyone does some quality Pining, Faust sings a sad song about Nature, and then Meph shows up again saying “hey I hope this doesn’t put a damper on our vacation, but Marguerite is in prison for murder and she’s going to be executed BUT QUICK, ACT NOW AND WE CAN SAVE HER for just one quick easy payment of your immortal soul” and Faust is just like “WHAT WHERE WHO WHAT UH FINE YES SURE OKAY SHIT, WOW, LET’S GO” and Meph is >:))) and they jump on their horses and ride off to go save her except OOPS, NO THEY DON’T because actually they are RIDING INTO THE WAITING JAWS OF HELL!!!! NYAK NYAK NYAK NYEEEEEHHHHH!!! Faust burns for eternity, Marguerite goes to heaven, curtain.

Rating: 3.5/5 Look, I’m not saying I’m biased, but Mephistopheles doesn’t even show up until half an hour into the opera, okay? I find this one hard to sit through even though the music is really delightful; and I do mean it is gorgeous music. Between the two famous mocking serenades, “Devant la maison” shoots “Vous quid faites l’endormie” right out of the water; all the chorus pieces are fantastic; the Hungarian March is a great instrumental piece; Faust actually has some decent arias for once (rarer in each subsequent opera), and there is Brander’s wonderfully irreverent Rat Song... I think the reason this doesn’t hold my attention as much as other versions is that the plot is very meandering and the characters don’t have concrete motivations; they’re sad teenagers in love, I guess? And the devil tricks them? This whimsical aspect is 1000% part and parcel of the Romantic Aesthetic I realize, but personally I came for a recognizable story and got mostly pastoral vignettes. We spend half the opera listening to Frolicking Peasants and Men At Arms. Mephistopheles just hops out of the woodwork to play a dirty trick on a random guy getting his Byronic Mope on. There’s no pact, no soul-signing until the very end, and it’s just a plain ol’ tricky trap, not a device to punish hubris or moral crimes. I’m even reluctant to give this its rightful Dragged To Hell points because out of all the Faust scenarios, this is the one where he seems to deserve it the least! He doesn’t actually do anything bad! It’s not satisfying if he’s dragged to Hell for no reason! Pfui. However, points gained back for the made-up Satanic babble sung by infernal chorus at the end.

Faust (1859, Gounod)

--Libretto in French and English

--1995 Adaptation with Samuel Ramey as Mephistopheles You already know I’m a slut for Samuel Ramey playing the devil in any capacity so I’ll spare you my gushing play-by-play of his performance. The quality of this video is.... not great. I apologize. I still love it, but you’re going to want to find a clearer recording of the music if you want to get the most out of this opera.

--2011 Adaptation with Paul Gay as Mephistopheles (Warning: this version is quite lurid and includes some staging choices that I find pretty uncomfortable-- I can’t decide if the director is consciously trying to highlight predatory sexism as a bad thing or if it’s just kind of included to make things seem ~spicy~. Anyway, it’s otherwise a high quality production with an interesting set design, just be warned that there’s some on-stage grossness. Also, a hilariously bad decapitated head prop! --to accompany a truly baffling ending. To its credit, the death of Valentin was genuinely pretty moving and made me feel... er, well, anything about the character. Tassis Christoyannis’s made that aria memorable, which is more than I can say of other productions.

Second of the Big Three!

Gounod introduces a more complete cast of characters borrowed from Goethe’s Faust to flesh out the the story and setting; we meet Wagner the student, a regiment of soldiers including Marguerite’s brother, Valentin, and their young friend Siebel (a pants role-- which immediately endears me to this character because I’m a ~big ol’ queer~). Later we meet Marguerite’s nosy old neighbor, Martha, who is REAL thirsty for Mephistopheles and who I relate to very much.

This opera follows Goethe’s Faust- Part I much more closely than its predecessor, and where it does not follow the original, it diverges in favor of making the story more engaging and streamlined. There is WAY LESS pining into the aether, and more sword fights. The larger cast of named characters makes for more interactions, which in turn makes for more memorable moments on stage, better dialogue, a comprehensible timeline of events, and more concrete motivations for everyone.

A SUMMARY: Faust’s pact in this version has nothing to do with the philosophical wager seen in Goethe, but is simply an exchange of his soul for returned youth. He is old, he’s spent his life studying, he wants to be young and full of passion again. He seals the deal after the devil offers him a vision of Marguerite, whose sight is so inspiring and lovely that Faust is overcome with desire for her alone. They go to find her, encountering on the way a regiment of students and soldiers, one of whom is Marguerite’s brother, Valentin, who is going off to war leaving his sister in the care of young Siebel. Getting Marguerite to stop and talk to Faust proves difficult since she is so pure and virtuous that A) Mephistopheles has no power over her, and B) she’s wary of the compliments of strangers. Faust gets Mephistopheles to bring her a case of jewels to warm her up to him, then Mephistopheles concocts a ruse to distract her nosy neighbor Martha and give them an excuse to meet Marguerite (shenanigans ensue). The ploy works, Marguerite is seduced, and in love with Faust. Cut to some time in the future, when Oh No Everything Has Gone Horribly Wrong; Faust has gone away and left Marguerite pregnant and unmarried, she is shunned by society with the exception of Siebel, meanwhile her brother has come home from the war to find her in a disgrace. Faust and Mephistopheles eventually return, but encounter an enraged Valentin who duels Faust to avenge his sister’s honor. Faust, of course, uses Mephistopheles’s magic to cheat, and Valentin is fatally stabbed. With his dying breaths, he curses his sister and blames her for his death, since he died defending her honor-- the people who witness this are rightfully aghast that he’d use his last moments to denounce his own sister-- and rightly so, because that’s a real dick move. Faust flees, and Marguerite is left on her own with no support and a newborn child to care for. She seeks refuge and forgiveness in the church, but finds she cannot pray, haunted by voices and cursed by Mephistopheles himself, as he whispers in her ear, promising damnation. She faints, and is presumably driven mad. Cut to Faust, who is being treated to a front-row seat of Walpurgisnacht. During the revels he sees another vision of Marguerite, this time of her in chains and awaiting execution for the murder of her child. Mephistopheles grudgingly takes Faust to see her in prison, where he tries to rescue her. In her fevered state she will not leave, wanting Faust to instead stay with her in the cell. During the delay, she sees Mephistopheles and finally puts two and two together, knowing a devil when she sees one, and understanding that Faust is not only responsible for her suffering but also in league with infernal powers. She pushes him aside, rejects him, and throws herself instead on the mercy of God, choosing death and redemption over being rescued by the man whose affections ruined her. Mephistopheles ruefully pronounces her condemned, but a voice from Heaven pronounces her Saved. Faust watches in awe as Marguerite’s soul ascends to Heaven, and he is left alone and presumably damned.

Why is this framing of the story significant? Because it’s about her. Faust is only an instrument; his soul is not especially remarkable, he might have been damned without any devil to encourage him.

But Marguerite’s soul was untouchable to Mephistopheles; he puts a vision of her before Faust for a reason. We don’t waste any time bemoaning Faust’s moral downfall; Faust is not the one seeking redemption at the end of the opera. Faust is a means to an end, and that end is leading an otherwise spotless soul into perdition.

This opera has Mephistopheles at his most sinister, his most manipulative; he is the one driving Marguerite deeper into misfortune, who isolates her, mocks her, whispers condemnation into her ear her until she doubts everything. Desperate, without support and seeing no way forward, no future for herself or her child, Marguerite kills her baby, or is led to do so by Mephistopheles. Without a doubt, this has been the devil’s plan all along, and with Marguerite now branded a murderess, he thinks he’s won. But Faust, despite taking no responsibility for his actions, nevertheless feels pity and remorse at her misfortune, and goes to rescue her--and this gives Marguerite the chance to finally see what he is.

She rejects him; she does not choose love, she does not choose to live or be rescued by the forces that ruined her in the first place. She stays, renews her faith, and thwarts Mephistopheles’s best efforts to damn her. This is not about a man's hubris; it is about Marguerite escaping the devil and saving herself on her own terms. That’s why I find this version to be poignant.

Some musical highlights: “Le veau d’or” (the golden calf)-- if not my favorite of Mephistopheles’s ballads then in the top three, particularly because it lends itself to some flamboyant acting; Marguerite’s “Ballade un roi de Thulé” (the king of Thule) is absolutely haunting; and "Seigneur, daignez permettre", aka The Church Scene is fucking incredible-- the juxtaposition of Marguerite’s pleas and the choir’s Dies Irae, the echoing church organs in the background, Damnation seeming to gain a voice of its own to summon her... it’s some real Eyes-of-Notre-Dame Hellfire shit.

Rating: 5/5! A perfect score! Gounod wins the first place ribbon. Though he beats Boito’s “Mefistofele” (up next) on several key points, I want you to know that my personal bias will probably always be in favor of “Mefistofele” on account of being a ho for the titular character. --But Gounod’s is the better opera, fair and square. “Faust” has the most comprehensive storyline, the most memorable arias, and the best (I think) balance of both humor and poignance. I will give this version the benefit of a Dragged to Hell point even though we don’t actually get to see the final deed. The Walpurgisnacht scene does exist as a ballet, so I’ll still give it the points even though it gets cut out of most productions for length (sometimes the ballet is performed as a stand-alone event). Additionally, he scores most favorably on the Marguerite > Sexy Lampshade scale-- this is a story about her more than it’s about Faust or Mephistopheles, and I’m here for that.

Thank you Mr. Gounod, you may retrieve your Incredibly Prestigious Award from my blog after the ceremony.

Mefistofele (1868, Boito)

--Libretto in Italian and English

--HERE IT IS, MY FAVORITE ONE, MY FAVORITE MEPHISTOPHELES, SAMUEL RAMEY, MOSTLY SHIRTLESS, FLIPPING OFF GOD AND LIGHTING A CIGARETTE ON STAGE IN HIS MATCHING CHERRY-RED TAILCOAT AND VIOLIN CASE 1989 (WHICH IS THE YEAR OF MY BIRTH, NO COINCIDENCE, I THINK)

--Oh, fun fact! The opera scene in Batman Begins is the chorus from the witches sabbath. If you thought it sounded familiar, this might be why.

Anyway. This is the third of the Big Three most-referenced Faust operas!

Unlike its predecessors, Mefistofele covers both part I and part II of Goethe’s Faust, starting with the seduction of Marguerite and moving on to serenading Helen of Troy and finally with Faust’s redemption. The first part of the opera is very similar to Gonoud’s Faust, but first there is a Prologue, which is taken pretty much directly from Goethe. And oh my god, is the Prologue hilarious. We encounter Mephistopheles, the titular character, on his way to work-- or more just loitering around in the aether as one does when one is bored and immortal and humanity is going on sinning with or without you, when he stops to greet the Lord God in passing, all satirical charm and sarcasm. God, very graciously, does not ask him whether he has anything better to do, but instead inquires if he knows Faust.

“Oh yeah, that guy. Neck beard, likes science, big fan of yours. Sure I’ve heard of him,” says Meph. “Hey, you seem like a betting man--”

“Um,” says God.

Meph continues; “I bet I can tempt him into sinning and thus damn his immortal soul to Hell!”

God agrees-- because God already knows the future and thinks this will be a fun way to build character.

A choir of angels descends and Mephistopheles gets grossed out, sprays them with insect repellent, and leaves. (I am paraphrasing).

The next few scenes are pretty familiar; Faust laments his ennui, a chorus of peasants and students celebrate a festival, Faust is on the cusp of a revelation that Jesus is neat, but is interrupted by the devil. The devil introduces himself, offers Faust his services on earth if Faust agrees to serve him in Hell after death.

Faust, who seconds ago was ready to devote himself to a life of holiness, sayeth “yolo” and they shake on it, with the condition that Mephistopheles can reveal to him one moment of such surpassing joy and beauty that Faust will wish for it to last forever-- thereupon Faust consents to being dragged immediately to Hell. Because pssh, that’s later and who cares about later?? They hop on Mephistopheles’s magic cape, and fly off to have adventures. CUT TO: Faust seducing Marguerite and Mephistopheles distracting her nosy neighbor Martha. THEY KISS, FAUST LEAVES, HE GOES TO A PARTY ON MT. BROCKEN. HE SEES A VISION: MARGUERITE IN PRISON! QUICK, TO THE RESCUE! BUT NO, SHE REJECTS HIM, HER SOUL IS SAVED, SHE DIES-- Wait, what? I hear you ask-- She just got here, she wasn’t even introduced, now we’re skipping to the end? The answer is: yes. Yes, you’re just supposed to know what’s going on already.

To be fair, Faust operas are the Spiderman remakes of the nineteenth century; there’s a new one coming out every ten years or so, Goethe is required reading, everyone is writing Faust fanfiction-- no one is wondering who the girl is or how they met or is wondering if they’ll kiss or not. Everyone knows the plot already, it’s fine.

BUT THIS ISN’T THE END! No indeed! Now we are on a tour of PART II of Goethe’s Faust! You know, the part you skipped! Don’t worry, Boito isn’t making the entire metaphysical play into an opera, just the juicy bits with Helen of Troy. Marguerite is instantly and completely forgotten-- this is now a Helen/Faust one-shot, which Mephistopheles is forced to watch with annoyance.

CUT TO: Faust’s old laboratory from Act 1, where he is on the brink of death, lost in a reverie of all the good times he’s had. Mephistopheles is hovering over him, tapping his wristwatch and reminding Faust of his past loves and glories, incredulous that Faust hasn’t yet found his One True Moment™.

Faust just sighs and says “gee, I guess the REAL happiness was the good I could have done along the way but absolutely didn’t!” and God busts in through the ceiling with a HALLELUJAH and Mephistopheles is like “oh don’t you dare, don’t you fucking-- THINK OF ALL THE GOOD TIMES WE HAD, ALL THE SEXY LADIES I GOT YOU TO MEET! AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU AS YOUR WINGMAN--” and Faust faceplants into the bible and goes straight to Heaven. Meph is left spitting in defiance as he sinks into the earth. THE END.

Why this framing is significant: The way Boito has arranged and cropped the scenes makes this story very much center around Mephistopheles. While Berlioz’s Faust was about the suffering of a young man for love, and Gounod’s was about the victory of Marguerite over Hell, Boito’s opera is about the humorous tragedy of Mephistopheles, whose endeavor was rigged to fail from the onset.

Faust doesn't end up in Hell in Goethe's version, and I accept this because Mephistopheles lost his bet on a technicality: the Moment™ Faust wished to prolong was not provided by Mephistopheles, it was caused by his sincere desire to do a last bit of good in the world, coming to the conclusion (after being made blind by the goddess of Care) that benefiting mankind is what brings one happiness, not knowledge or fleeting pleasures. It wasn’t that he suddenly found Christ or gave himself over to God, as the opera implies, but because he finally realized the worth of striving to do good, and fond a source of platonic love within himself, which makes his soul redeemable despite his pact with the devil. So Goethe gives us a humanist, philosophical explanation for Faust's redemption..... BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY-- he has Mephistopheles lose Faust's immortal soul because he's Too Fucking Horny For An Angel Boy’s Ass. (I know when I’m being pandered to.)

Unfortunately, Boito misses the whole philosophical trajectory of Goethe’s Faust and reduces it to a simple morality-play where a sinner is saved on his deathbed merely by acknowledging the hereafter. He doesn’t suffer blindness, he doesn’t actually DO anything good in his last hour, he just repents and decides Heaven is real after all at the last possible second before kicking the bucket. It would be disappointing, IF that were the point of the story. But that’s not where the drama is!

Like Gounod’s Faust, the focus was never really on the doctor at all; his redemption is not what we paid to see. It’s Mephistopheles’s reaction to losing Faust’s soul that makes the ending interesting, not the fact that Faust gets a free pass to Heaven.

Highlights of this version: It’s fucking hilarious, and Mephistopheles is the star of the entire show. His arias are in turns sinister and sardonic, playful and powerful. The dialogue is taken directly from Goethe’s Faust in most cases (translated into Italian obviously), and hey, the dialogue in Goethe is really funny and good and witty! Hard to go wrong!

“Ave Signor” (Hail, Lord!) is such a terrific opener; there will always be something delightful about the idea of the devil conversationally sassing God and daring to make a bet with the Almighty in the spirit of work-place rivalry. “Son Lo Spirito Che Nega Sempre Tutto” (I Am the Spirit That Denieth All Things) is full of dark bravado and rebellion, whistling defiance at the Lord. It’s a great Villain Song and as someone with sympathy for the devil it is completely my jam. “Ecco Il Mondo” (Behold the World) is both teasing and menacing and the staging lends itself to some glorious melodrama. “Ah! Su! Riddiamo, riddiamo” (Turning, turning) gets a prize for being the best infernal chorus and witches’ sabbath scene out of all of them-- it’s frenzied and spooky and satanic and whirling, everything you could want from an orgy of infernal creatures. Ten out of five stars, would exalt Satan to again.

Rating: 4.5 / 5 stars. Second place prize, and Honorable Mention for being the judge’s favorite. It’s not perfect. The story leaves much to be desired-- let’s face it, Part II of “Faust” isn’t especially... dynamic on its own, and especially when condensed to fit into opera format, the events don’t add up into a satisfying narrative. Boito glosses over some frankly essential elements in the original and just has Faust skip right from his life-ruining adultery to being carried to Heaven on the backs of angels-- just for thinking of all the good he *could* have done if he hadn’t been, you know, a real stinker this whole time. So I’m not giving Boito a pass for omitting Faust’s Hell Dragging. Furthermore, this play is woefully short on Marguerita; she basically just shows up to be seduced and then a second later is Ruined and Saved. Booo.

But hey-- is this play called “Faust”? Is this play called “Faust and Marguerita”? No. This play is called motherfuckin’ “Mefistofele”, because it’s about Mephistopheles. It’s about our suave, under-appreciated servant of Hell working hard for his cut, trying and squeeze just ONE life-altering moment out of this absolute dehydrated turd of a man, and the play is rife with his frustration. He is the one who whistles in defiance of God, and he loses because it is *inevitable* that he loses. God was never going to let him win that bet; Meph was a tool in his ultimate design to shepherd Faust closer to redemption. Mephistopheles is dragged off stage whistling in defiance as a lifetime’s worth of effort is flushed down the drain in a single moment of seemingly undeserved redemption. Not for a *solitary second* did we want this opera to be about Faust. No. This is the devil’s opera, and that’s why it’s so fucking great.

Doktor Faust (1916–25, Busoni)

--Adaptation with Thomas Hampson 2006

--Libretto in German and English

...And now, a German libretto written by an Italian, in contrast with Boito’s Italian libretto translated from German.

God, this is such a modern ass Modern Opera. It does that thing I hate that modern operas do where the composer is like “What? You wanted a ~melody~? What is this, musical theater??” Like obviously they’ve transcended the need for anything so plebeian as a tune I can fucking hum. It’s very Intellectual, very High Art. The plot is full of tortured genius manpain, naval gazing, and I can’t remember a single aria from it. ...Okay, that’s a bit harsh; in the final two scenes Faust gets some lovely melancholy solos that actually stuck out to me. But this is a three hour long opera. So. Maybe skip ahead.

Plot-wise, this is the most existential of the bunch. No Marguerite in this one, just a Duchess with no name. Faust still ruins his lover’s life but in his final act he rejects both God and the Devil and uses his Supreme Human Will to transfer his life-force into his dead child’s body, resurrecting him as a young man with a blossoming frond of some kind. (Symbolism!!!)

--This marks the full 180 turnaround from “Faust is forcibly dragged to hell by Satan himself and his body explodes all over the stage” to “NOT ONLY IS FAUST REDEEMED OF HIS SINS BUT HE TRANSCENDS BOTH HEAVEN AND HELL WITH THE INDOMITABLE FORCE OF HIS HUMAN WILL, GOD IS DEAD, FAUST IS THE ÜBERMENSCH”, and to that I say *ptttttttbbbbbbbb*.

Rating: 1/5 stars. Plot is ponderously philosophical, overweighted with symbolism, and the music, while interesting, is largely forgettable with a few exceptions. Also it is Three Goddamn Hours Long. Points lost for nameless female character who fails the Lampshade Test. Loses further points for a dry and flavorless Mephisopheles, boooo.

The Rake's Progress (1951, Stravinsky)

--1992 production with Jerry Hadley and OH LOOK WHO IT IS IT’S SAMUEL RAMEY AGAIN HUH WELL DON’T MIND IF I DO this production is really, really well acted and funny and the dance portions are especially cool.

--Libretto in English and Italian

Another modern opera, this time by a composer I actually like!

Now, this isn’t technically a Faust opera; its based on a series of delightfully comedic prints by William Hogarth, detailing the decline and fall of a young man who inherits a huge sum of money, spurns his true love, and wastes his inheritance on foolish ventures and hookers, eventually ending up insane in Bedlam (I’m not saying tertiary syphilis, but definitely tertiary syphilis-- Let us take a moment to appreciate both condoms and penicillin.)

In the original paintings there is no deal-making devil, but but luckily he’s been added in by librettist W.H. Auden (who was intermittently friends and lovers with Christopher Isherwood!!!!-- I just wanted to add that because it makes my gay little heart very happy). The names are all vaudevillian puns, such as “Tom Rakewell”, “Anne Trulov”, and “Sellem, the Auctioneer”. Mephistopheles has been exchanged for the slick, modern Nick Shadow.

Highlights of this version: Baba the Turk, the bearded lady that Nick convinces Tom to marry as a demonstration of his free will (???). Listen: I know she’s meant to be comic relief and is an unflattering stereotype, but dang if she didn’t win my heart completely. I like that her marriage with Tom apparently falls apart, not necessarily because she’s a bearded lady, but because she’s just very chatty and overbearing and is much better traveled than Tom, and has had numerous wealthy and important suitors who she won’t shut up about. She’s knows her own worth and conducts herself accordingly, and is very vocal when she knows she’s being treated badly. She’s got Anne’s back when they meet at the auction of all Tom’s property (which she was included in as an object because she was under a spell of silence and immobility-- rude), telling her to watch out for Nick Shadow and generally being very forgiving and understanding about the whole affair; she was hurt that Tom lied about his affections, but she doesn’t blame Anne for it, which is wholesome. Then she announces that she’s going back to her career on the stage because she is BABA and she has had enough of these scrubs. Anyway. I love her. She’s described very beautifully if you happen to like beards, which I do (and so did the author).

“No Word From Tom” reminds me why I love Stravinsky so much (and Dawn Upshaw sings it like a nightingale). “Lanterloo My Lady” is spritely and fun and texturally interesting; besides, “sweet dreams my master, dreams may lie, but dream-- for when you wake you die” is chill-inducing. “How Dark and Dreadful is This Place” plus the whole card game in the cemetery is sad and grim and comical all at the same time; Tom is such a pathetic and naive mess you can’t help but feel sorry for him, even while Nick’s smugness is delicious. Tom’s mad songs are all quite touching and beautiful.

Rating: 4/5 stars. The libretto is really excellent, jazzy, full of great wordplay and aphorisms. Nick is a delightful Mephistopheles; thoroughly modern, witty, sly, arch, fourth-wall breaking. Faust is not dragged to hell, but he is condemned to insanity. Loses points for a female lead whose entire purpose in life is to babysit this asshole through his poor life decisions. Also, while certainly more memorable and melodic than Busoni’s Faust, it still has that sort of shouty modern opera sound that I find a little challenging to listen to; but that said, the music fits the plot, and the plot is fun and absorbing, so while there may be fewer individual arias I’m likely to put on my jogging playlist, it’s engaging to watch as a production from start to finish.

--Okay! That’s it! I know, I know, this isn’t actually a review of every Faust opera to date, but I have to get back to my life, and you already know my feelings on modern and contemporary opera. Thank you for bearing with me for this entire novel-length post that literally no one asked for!! You’re a the real hero here! I love you almost as much as I love Samuel Ramey in tights. *stage kiss* Yours in Service Here but in Mine Below, ~Wesley

#Faust Tag #Wesley's Opera Hour #Faust #Mephistopheles #lifeblogging #long post #Phew! This took a million years to write but it's done and I'm happy!

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