Yet another beginning.
Oct. 1st, 2004 08:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanI promise I will post an entire fic. Soon. But in the meantime, here's another one in progress. Sorry for the flightiness. But I plan to update all three stories as I write more in them.
This fanfic is inspired by the novel The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. It will help if you have read said book. The following is the prolouge.
I first read M. LeRoux’s fascinating account of the Opèra ghost in 1915, several years after it was first published and five years after my father’s death. My first thought was to contact the author, as I very much wanted to discuss his œuvre in person. But after some consideration, I thought it better that I conduct some inquiries of my own first. After all, I can only assume that since my father never shared any details with me, his involvement in this affair was either clandestine or purely fictitious. My own son was off in the Great War, and I wanted to be sure of my course before proceeding, as I am sure my readers may understand.
M. LeRoux caused quite a popular stir with his book, and several close friends did ask me about the verity of my familial involvement. Although le Vitcomte de Changny did disappear as noted, my very existence suggested that it was a calculated move rather than a form of foul play. Indeed, my father returned to Paris at the turn of the century, and spent his last several years near his grandchildren and myself. In response to the inquiries of my colleagues and those of my own relations, I have produced this volume. Much of it is personal recollection, and I can in no way guarantee its authenticity. We all know men of 50 years can embellish the past to some degree. However, I wish the reader to note I have done much research as well, in some attempt to piece together the events of 1861, as well as those of 1881. Of course, the dates of 1905, the auction at the Opèra, and 1910, M. LeRoux’s investigation, came up as well. But I do wish to stress that, at the beginning, I only knew the second half of the story, the one in which Marguerite and myself were involved. My mother was not prone to storytelling, and after her death my father became equally taciturn on the subject of the Opèra. Therefore much of what I discovered was as novel to me as it must have been to M. LeRoux.
Before publishing, I did have the delightful opportunity of meeting the author of the work that launched my personal search for my family history, and I must here acknowledge the large debt I owe to him. His inquiries certainly paved the way for my own, and his book, while possibly sensationalized, has set down the whole strange affair in the most objective style possible when describing such phantasmagorical events. Without him, I would also never have had the opportunity to hear the witness of the gentleman known as “the Persian,” as he passed away before I had the pleasure of meeting him. To those who choose to interpret M. LeRoux and myself as authors of fiction, I must stress that while he may be a writer, I am, in fact, a surgeon, and not prone to flights of imagination. Even though I was young at the time, my eyewitness accounts are not the nightmares of childhood, but rather the portraits of a blossoming scientist.
This fanfic is inspired by the novel The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. It will help if you have read said book. The following is the prolouge.
I first read M. LeRoux’s fascinating account of the Opèra ghost in 1915, several years after it was first published and five years after my father’s death. My first thought was to contact the author, as I very much wanted to discuss his œuvre in person. But after some consideration, I thought it better that I conduct some inquiries of my own first. After all, I can only assume that since my father never shared any details with me, his involvement in this affair was either clandestine or purely fictitious. My own son was off in the Great War, and I wanted to be sure of my course before proceeding, as I am sure my readers may understand.
M. LeRoux caused quite a popular stir with his book, and several close friends did ask me about the verity of my familial involvement. Although le Vitcomte de Changny did disappear as noted, my very existence suggested that it was a calculated move rather than a form of foul play. Indeed, my father returned to Paris at the turn of the century, and spent his last several years near his grandchildren and myself. In response to the inquiries of my colleagues and those of my own relations, I have produced this volume. Much of it is personal recollection, and I can in no way guarantee its authenticity. We all know men of 50 years can embellish the past to some degree. However, I wish the reader to note I have done much research as well, in some attempt to piece together the events of 1861, as well as those of 1881. Of course, the dates of 1905, the auction at the Opèra, and 1910, M. LeRoux’s investigation, came up as well. But I do wish to stress that, at the beginning, I only knew the second half of the story, the one in which Marguerite and myself were involved. My mother was not prone to storytelling, and after her death my father became equally taciturn on the subject of the Opèra. Therefore much of what I discovered was as novel to me as it must have been to M. LeRoux.
Before publishing, I did have the delightful opportunity of meeting the author of the work that launched my personal search for my family history, and I must here acknowledge the large debt I owe to him. His inquiries certainly paved the way for my own, and his book, while possibly sensationalized, has set down the whole strange affair in the most objective style possible when describing such phantasmagorical events. Without him, I would also never have had the opportunity to hear the witness of the gentleman known as “the Persian,” as he passed away before I had the pleasure of meeting him. To those who choose to interpret M. LeRoux and myself as authors of fiction, I must stress that while he may be a writer, I am, in fact, a surgeon, and not prone to flights of imagination. Even though I was young at the time, my eyewitness accounts are not the nightmares of childhood, but rather the portraits of a blossoming scientist.
Your biggest fan
Date: 2004-10-04 10:18 am (UTC)Love, Annie
ps - how are things? i'm suuuper! hehe :-)
Re: Your biggest fan
Date: 2004-10-04 10:59 am (UTC)