I know, I just posted a good review, right? But I read this one right after and it still made me cranky. And we all know what happens when I get cranky.

 

"The Phantom of Chicago" by Lori Herter, 1993

From Silhouette Shadows '93, 1993

Grade: D-

 

Ironic that I had to give the horror film I just did a high grade and knock this romantic version way, way down, since my preferences are normally quite the opposite. But the horror film was artistic, whereas this is tripe. Let's just dive right on in.

 

The writing style made me want to kick things right out of the gate. It's not completely miserable, but fundamental things, such as extremely excess word repetition, were all over the place. A good spot was the description which said that the light "lit the smooth, curved walls... with a light." Another head-banger was her assertion that the wall was "made of brick. An old double doorway interrupted the brick." You think there might be light involved? Maybe some brick? And then there was the awkward, improper arrangement of adjectives, and the way the passive voice was used with reckless abandon all over the narration, giving it a nostalgic sense of whatthefuckery even when I was fairly sure I knew what was going on. And we're still on the first page! As we carried on with the bizarreness, including the mention that the gentleman in question "took no notice of the thick air," (REALLY? How many people go around noticing the AIR? Is she serious?), so my attempts to remain positive dwindled away to nothing. This prose gave me ulcers.

 

When it comes to influences, there are two: Andrew Lloyd Webber's 1986 stage musical, and, much to my mingled dismay and entertainment, Disney's 1991 animated film Beauty & the Beast. While Herter makes it a point to mention Leroux (twice, in fact) as the author of the novel, there is not even the slightest inkling of material that could be attributed to the book in here. It's all Webber, all the time, oozing overt sexuality from its very pores. The Disney film doesn't have too much influence, except that Herter seems to have spliced it with the Phantom story in order to transform the sympathetic Raoul into something more approximating the abhorrent Gaston, and she also raided the animated costume department and stole Belle's pretty gold dress for her heroine (seriously, she even admits it. I'm in awe of the lack of originality).

 

As a side note, I'm always puzzled when authors decide to "cross" the Phantom story with the Beauty & the Beast myth. The Phantom story IS the Beauty & the Beast myth--the idea of a hideous monster with serious personality issues requiring the love of a beautiful woman to redeem him is pretty much a direct import from the French fairytale. It's just a version with several compelling specifics, thanks to Msr. Leroux, that allows it to stand on its own. "Combining" the Phantom story with Beauty & the Beast is like combining chocolate and cocoa and saying you've created something new. No, my friend. You have created more chocolate. Congratulations.

 

The plot's pretty simple (if unnecessarily contrived); there's a dude named Eric with a limp in a Phantom costume hanging out in the old tunnels under the Chicago Loop, and he kidnaps Crystal, over whom he has long been lusting, ostensibly to save her from her no-good handsome fiance Tony. And then there's lots of underground fornication. It's not an uncommon plot in knockoffs of the Phantom story, but it's the way that it's done that's simultaneously so hilarious and yet so awful. I was absolutely unable to keep a straight face for most of the prose, especially after I spent an entire page listening to Herter describe Eric's hair, of all things, and then was confronted with the spell-binding line, "As the heavy material [of his cape] swished majestically about him, a sure sense of dark eminence settled over him." I dare you to read that aloud and not snicker. Go on. I'll wait. Can't do it, can you?

 

Chapter 1:

I tried to make a note about the inverted social status of the characters--i.e., Crystal is a wealthy socialite while her fiance Tony is a general layabout nobody, which is a flip from Leroux's original conflict of Raoul as the privileged aristocracy and Christine as the wench from the gutter. But there's no real social message in this story. The closest we get is a lot of people whining about how they're only loved for their money, and I can turn on VH1 for that shit if I want to.

 

So there's a masquerade ball, because that's a general prerequisite of most Phantom stories, and Crystal is going to it with Tony, and they are dressed as Belle and the Beast from the Disney movie. Much fuss is made over Crystal's cleavage, which is apparently spectacular--in fact, it is so spectacular that Herter feels the need to tell me that Crystal's body is great what feels like every other line. Between the tragically entertaining description (I think I lost it somewhere around the "puffs of spun gold" on Crystal's arms) and the intensely awkward exposition, in which Crystal's father tells her about how their lawyer Jay is missing and has probably been murdered even though she already KNOWS, the grammatical stumbles (which are still there... oh, they are everywhere) seemed almost at home, really. In case anyone had any doubts that there would be any deep characterization going on here, Crystal's father hates Tony and disapproves strongly throughout the conversation of her engagement to him. Crystal, when she's not stuttering in a totally unrealistic manner, is entertainingly blase about the whole thing and admits multiple times that she doesn't even know why she's engaged to him other than that he's hot. She says a lot of things like, "Attraction is something you feel, not think about." I say lots of things like, "Twit."

 

Then I had to go lie down for a bit after Revenge of the Grammatical Error: Tense Monsters from Space. "None of your men has worn suits"? Is our language seriously this hard? Was the copy-editor asleep at the wheel when this story went to press?

 

I actually felt sorry for Tony during most of this conversation, which I don't think was Herter's intent. He was being so neatly pigeonholed as a meathead with a pretty face and body but no redeeming features beyond them and no real love attached that I was hoping that Herter would pull an upset, and show that he had unplumbed depths that Crystal could discover and fall in love with (not that Crystal has any depths, either, but I had hope). I mean, it's the exact same situation as in Leroux's novel; everyone assumes that Raoul is only interested in Christine for sex, and that she's only gold-digging, but they do in fact love one another purely and sincerely. Alas, that is not what's going on here; Tony really is just a hunk of burning stud with no particular value and a shady history.

 

More malarkey ensues as Crystal's father whines about how she wouldn't date Jay, the presumably-deceased attorney, and she makes lots of declarations about passion! and sexual attraction! and not dating the boring, safe guy! And, oh, look, it's like Webber's musical has climbed from its score to squat in the middle of this short story. As usual, I stick to my theory that our modern view of the story makes the Phantom more attractive than Raoul, because we're more inclined toward passion at this point than toward safety and gentleness; poor Tony is therefore about to get the shit end of the stick as our Raoul stand-in, which is ironic since they're talking about Jay in that context but it's really Tony who fulfills that role (and who, incidentally, Crystal is not particularly interested in, either, because his name isn't Eric). Much to my amusement, Crystal is engaged to this guy and is even discussing her libido right and left with her father of all people, but she hasn't slept with him yet because there's somehow no passionate connection there even though he makes her hot whenever he comes around. Riiiiiight. Welcome to Romance Novels 101, where the very first rule is that the Heroine Must Be Pure and Virginal, because no one wants to read about Whores In Love.

 

Tony finally arrives and I cheered that I was about to escape from this conversation between Crystal and her father, but the cheering quickly gave way to uncontainable laughter. Tony is wearing Stripper Raoul Couture, including epaulets with no shirt and a mane of wild, untamable hair framing his broad, manly chest, not to mention the carefully described trail of man-hair leading down into his pants. Seriously. I'm at a loss as to how this is meant to represent the Beast, unless Tony is relying on his personal hairiness to confuse other party-goers. Run-on sentences abound, which is probably why I'm having such trouble trying not to use them in this review (god, I have grammar poisoning. Is there a cure for that?). All I have established by the end of the first chapter is that 1) Crystal is clearly the dumbest woman alive because any idiot could tell that Tony is a mobster, and 2) I hate Crystal and her whiny, over-privileged, tantruming-to-Daddy little ass. I hope Tony shoots her.

 

Chapter 2:

Now, we're going to leave the land of plotted stories and go on a journey to a very special place. It's a place that readers of Phantom-based fiction know well; yes, we're going to the Land of Fantasies Written Out and Passed Off as Literature. The entire beginning of the chapter reads like a wet dream from someone who just saw Webber's stage play and was smitten. A gent dressed as the Phantom shows up at the masquerade ball and sweeps Crystal off her feet with his handsome (oh, dear) demeanor and commanding presence (and very nice white teeth for a dude hanging out underground with no toothbrush, too). There's lots of flirtatious dialogue which is meant to be alluring but which mostly just made me roll my eyes ("Who are you?" "I'm the Phantom in your life." Sheesh). He leads her off under the building via an ancient service elevator, and kidnaps her into the underground so we can go have our romantic rape fantasy (oh, you know it's coming).

 

Herter makes a point of invoking Leroux's name, letting Crystal tell us in her internal monologue that the Phantom's name was Eric in Leroux's classic book. I am utterly unconvinced by this attempt to name Leroux as the source material for this story, since it clearly has nothing to do with it; more likely, it's in order to avoid there being any threat of copyright infringement from Webber's copyrighted work, since Leroux's original is in the public domain. Also, had Crystal actually read the book, she would have been spelling Eric with a "k" in her internal musings, since that's the original spelling. But I digress.

 

Chapter 3:

Since it has been blindingly obvious to me who the Phantom actually is since about five seconds after the story started, I spent most of this chapter asking in increasingly frustrated tones how Crystal could possibly be so dumb as to not recognize the voice or mannerisms or the lower half of the FACE of a person that she knew (he even told her that she knew him. Still no glimmer of recognition). Other moments, such as when his blinking panicked her into spilling her wine, or when his use of candles suddenly put her in the mood despite the fact that she was a kidnapping victim who was afraid of being raped, also caused me to question her mental faculties.

 

There is one good line here that stood out for me in the morass of Crystal's musings: "Ethereal beauty surrounding the threat of violence was a paradox she didn't know how to cope with." That's a very applicable line for at least some of the themes of Leroux's original novel, but alas, they will not be appearing in this story. Good-bye, relevant line. It was refreshing to meet you here. Go somewhere with less rampant use of the passive voice, and live free.

 

The Phantom (because of course it's totally a mystery who this guy is. Seriously, you'll never guess. It's a secret) spends a lot of time both telling Crystal and moping to himself about how she's always ignored him and no one ever loves him and guys like Tony get all the attention because women are stupid. And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen: the class struggles and conflicting social influences of Leroux's novel have been distilled down to the eternal struggle of the nerd vs. the jock. Epic. This really rubs me the wrong way because some of the very core points of Leroux's novel have to do with flouting dichotomies and inequalities in society, and Herter is choosing instead to take sides. It made me sigh, a lot. There's a great deal more material that is indicative of influence from Webber's musical, including long-winded discussions of how Tony is virile but the Phantom has a soul-connection.

 

And, of course, now there's some sexual assault. The Phantom's goal here is to make Crystal realize what a fool she's been for ignoring him in the past, and to that end there's some makin' out. I found it exactly the opposite of the scalp-tingly titillation that was intended; Crystal is afraid of him (even if she is dimmer than a lead lightbulb) and wants to run away, which he is fully aware of. This is therefore sexual assault if not outright rape, and it is not sexy in the slightest under those terms. Of course, since this is a rape fantasy, the Phantom doesn't see anything particularly wrong with his actions because she's cooperating, and Crystal spends a lot of time struggling with the fact that, oh noes, she kind of likes it. Hold that train, Herter, because there's no fucking way you're getting me on board with the idea that the kidnapping victim who thinks she's about to get raped is having difficulty being upset because it feels so nice when he fondles her like that. I get that the key factor in the intended attraction here is the idea of the man worshipping the woman (only in a sexy way, however--note that Erik's groveling at her feet from the original novel is not represented here. Groveling is not sexy), as the Phantom has worshipped Crystal from afar and is currently worshipping her with slobber all over her neck; however, there's nothing even remotely attractive for me about a woman being sexed up against her will, even if she thinks she sort of likes it (which idea I have my extremely serious doubts about the likelihood of). This scene goes on FOREVER because it is absolutely FULL of Crystal's mental dithering, wherein she continually stops planning her escape because he feels so good and he's loved her all his life and therefore this isn't really rape, it's just heavy foreplay. She wonders, "Could he make her go mad with ecstasy?" Are you SERIOUS? NO NO NO NO. This is grade-A bullshit for a kidnapping/rape victim, especially one in such bizarre circumstances and one with such an ingrained (or so we are told) sense of purity and self-possession.

 

Finally, she manages to grab a heavy flashlight and club the Phantom in his bad leg, and escape (naked except for her panties, of course, because she was in the middle of some hot rape-no-it's-not-no-it-is), and I cheered that she had finally figured out that she should escape from the crazy rapist. He did some perfunctory shouting about how he loved her and how could she do this to him and general rage, which only cemented, for me, the fact that he is entirely fucking insane. His "hero" status in this story drives me nuts, because he hasn't done a single "hero" thing so far (kidnapping, subterfuge, and rape are not hero acts; they are villain acts. I apologize for pointing this out, but seriously. This guy has done nothing worthwhile yet at all, period).

 

Chapter 4:

The best bright spot of this chapter is the Phantom's unintentionally hilarious inner monologue as he limps through the sewers looking for Crystal (who has, of course, gotten totally lost); most of it has to do with his chagrin over the fact that maybe he shouldn't have thought Crystal was quite that dumb. I feel that he can be excused here, as it was an honest mistake; I certainly think she's that dumb. The Phantom slogs about in the dark looking for her for a while, while I languished at my desk over the incorrect usage of the word "irony" (thanks a lot, Morrissette. You've ruined an entire generation's perception of that word), until he finally finds naked Crystal and hauls her back off to his lair.

 

I don't even care what happens to Crystal anymore by this point, I'm so frustrated with her. She keeps pondering ("What, did she want him to take her by force?" Well, clearly, honey, you DO) and agonizing over how awesome he made her feel during the rape scene, and how mean she was to hit him with a flashlight, and I want to vomit from the incredibly inaccurate portrayal of a trauma victim (I don't care how wonderful a man is; if he kidnaps and half-rapes a woman, she is not his friend immediately after. No). She falls back on the old, "Oh, well, it must be Stockholm Syndrome" defense, which, NO, IT IS NOT, because that takes a while to develop and requires VERY specific circumstances, and the use of which is one of my greatest pet peeves in these kinds of stories. I was all light-hearted when I started this review, and believe me, the story is all kinds of hilariously funny and bad--but this part I just can't be entertained by, because it's so wrong. It's demeaning to anyone who has actually been through that kind of trauma and has lasting psychological issues because of the confusion of violence and sexuality.

 

There's now several pages of my least favorite part of romance novels, the Highly Contrived Plot Device to Keep the Leads Apart, which in this case is the Phantom's new determination to treat Crystal like a hostile prisoner and Crystal's indignance that how dare he be pissed off that she hit him in the gunshot wound with a flashlight. The arguments over who is the bigger ass are interminable, and the internal monologues wailing over how MEAN the other person is being don't exactly relieve the boredom. Herter's solution to all this overwhelming tension is to have the Phantom pass out in a delirious fever from his wound, which has apparently been infected on and off lately.

 

And now, my favorite part of the story; when the delirious, ill Phantom rolls about in his sleep and brushes up against Crystal, SHE starts sexually molesting HIM even though he blearily says no (because he's trying to pretend he hates her, but of course he really likes it secretly so this rape is okay, too, despite his inability to consent). Never mind what I said earlier; Herter is right. These two are clearly soulmates. Quite apart from the awfulness of the constant rapine, my bewilderment over why she is burning with curiousity but doesn't unmask the guy when he's unconscious and delirious beside her is also a factor of considerable concern. Does Crystal only have the functioining parts of her brain that pertain to heartbeat and reproduction, or what?

 

Then, after the Phantom miraculously recovers from his fever enough and there is some heartfelt dialogue about how Crystal is a knockout with a zillion boyfriends but she's totally almost virginal anyway, we come to the hot sexing, which is pretty darn boring for hot sexing. My only real comment on that was scrawled in the margin of my notes: "Please stop describing nipples as 'pink nubs'. Once was enough." There's really not a lot more to say here, except that everybody is cool with all the rape earlier, so it's time for some hot hot lovemaking.

 

I slammed my skull through my desk a few more times at the incredibly trite dialogue following the sex scene, and at the continued mutilation of the English language ("tortuous": not the word you are looking for, please add one more letter), but it was when we got to the end of the chapter, as Crystal was leaving to go back to the upper world and the Phantom was moping over how she wouldn't really love him when she learned his true identity, that we got to the real prize. When Crystal insists that she'll still love him (because rape is a building block to a healthy relationship), he tells her morosely, "Remember, in Leroux's book, the Phantom never won Christine. She went off with her handsome hunk, Raoul."

 

Why is it that this idea of the Phantom being the hero of Leroux's novel is so extremely widespread? True, he is an exceptionally sympathetic villain, which may confuse the radar for some people, and those viewing the Webber musical are even further pushed in that direction by the softening and romanticization of the character in that version. The write-off of Raoul as nothing more than a pretty face is also fairly commonplace in Phantom literature. There is a very interesting conception that the Phantom is not only sympathetic, but that he is more deserving of Christine than Raoul is, simply by virtue of having endured more hardships in his life. This idea of the entitlement of the underdog is very widespread, particularly in modern-day American culture, which puts an emphasis on personal achievement and "paying dues" in order to achieve rewards; from the standpoint of the average American joe, Raoul, who is wealthy and handsome, has done nothing and endured nothing to deserve Christine's love or presence, whereas the Phantom has suffered his entire life and should be rewarded with some happiness. I won't go into how bizarre this idea is when you break it down (for one thing, it completely removes Christine as a character from the equation, making her a symbolic trophy for one man or the other rather than a person participating in the situation), but it's an extremely common view that is unfortunately totally foreign to the dynamics that Leroux was attempting to introduce in his original metaphor. This idea baffles me every time I see it presented, and this short story is no exception.

 

This chapter also features the stunning realization that the police TOLD the Phantom to kidnap Crystal and sex her up in his underground lair to keep her safe while they go after Tony (who, no shit, is a mobster... poor Tony). Everyone is free to join me in a rousing bout of howling laughter, because this is the most hilarious police solution I have ever heard of. Crystal's chagrin that she didn't figure that out herself is unfounded, because police NEVER EVER DO THAT. They put you under guard THEMSELVES. They do not send you off to be sexed up in the underground by mysterious masked men. There's no funding for that.

 

Chapter 5:

This chapter involves nothing of note except for the Phantom avoiding Crystal for no good reason in order to prolong the angst, Tony getting arrested, and the incredibly shocking revelation that the Phantom is Jay, the attorney, and his wound came from being shot by Tony (oh, MAN, nobody saw THAT shit coming!). We end the story with Crystal unmasking Jay, who she is still too dumb to identify by herself, amid a fall of flowers and fluffy bunnykins love and handsomeness, and then they're shagging away amid gross misuse of the present perfect tense while I cry into my pina colada.

 

The author's note at the end of the story confirms the conclusion that I'd already come to: that Herter's story is based exclusively on Webber's stage show, and that she had written it in a flurry of romantic, starry-eyed bliss after seeing said show. I'd feel a sense of triumph, but all I really want to do is go lie down and read a few lines out of my rape-free grammar textbooks to comfort myself. And have another colada.

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