Last night was cool. I was out on the dock with a friend at night, and I told him our view of Oregon City, way down at the other end of the river, with its lights reflecting in the water, reminded me of "Erik". Because he had no idea what I was talking about, I went far into explaining the story and the connections it had with our view, and us, and me, and my art, and I realized while I was explaining in that standpoint, not as an author, but just describing, it felt like I had created a strong character and not just a pretty tuxedo-wearing guy to whisk my self-insert off her feet.

It was also cool because he seemed to take interest, and sometimes he was surprised. Sometimes he had things to say back about him. It was almost like we were chatting about a real person! I told him it was thrilling for me to do that because I often have a hard time seeing my characters as just characters. I seem to give them all of the attention and respect that I would real friends, albeit ones that hadn't called me in a while. And with the Phantom, because of how he is and how the story ends, I entertain myself with the thought that he is roaming around, since He's There takes places here where I live, in some imaginary break-off of Portland (and the Portland area.) Confession, though: I always picture my high school when I talk about theirs, with a huge road somewhere at its left (instead of a bridge) leading to the theater, and more trees. And of course, the hill connected to Mariam's street and leading down to Lily's house... etc etc.

But yeah, I told him he was a Portland resident, but sometimes homeless. I likened him to a Sims neighbor, that just appears at the end of the sidewalk and makes himself almost like a disposable being just for Lily whenever she wants him.

The conversation began, though, with me describing him as a Note-Sender, but only with it being his nickname as a coincidence. Since I realized as the story progressed that he was actually quite engrossed with communicating with people he doesn't know, (or for Lily's case wants to know), so he can save them the trouble (and discomfort I guess) of seeing him in person. He wants to say a lot without people paying attention to him.

So I said when he reaches his favorite roof top, he simply begins taking notes from his pockets, sometimes reading them before he drops them, and unleashing them to the wind, hopefully to wind up in someone's hands. They're a lot of things; sometimes observations (bitter ones), sometimes facts about himself that he wouldn't want to tell anyone face to face, sometimes secrets; sometimes things he covets regarding Lily.

When the idea came to him that he could send notes to Lily, who beforehand he never thought was capable of existing in the same place and time as him, almost like he had only been having a dream of her existing for two whole years, he was taken to it but it actually really scared him. When they were looking over the same body of water they had in chapter 13, later, he said that he was very self-conscious being looked at physically after all of the communication through notes, but that was an understatement, really.

So the question is... why does he always appear so calm, unphased, and prepared for everything? Why was it a contradictory fact delivered so late that he hardly sleeps?

I explained that there is actually a big connection between that and his case of mild schizophrenia. (And this came from knowing my friend Greg.) In chapter 35, he said he's very thankful for learning how to control how he behaves. That was something he needed to do, having a perception-altering condition: learn how to distinguish reality from hallucination. (Dorian never could do this.) That doesn't necessarily mean he could recognize all delusions (much stronger webs of distorted perception, like thinking that he is Erik incarnate. Which yes, is like the Robert Englund version!) He had to train himself, the way you train your body to do incredible things, to slow down thoughts and get a handle of what was appropriate to act on. That would be the reason that he always appears so calculating, but it kind of has a downside because Lily gets rather annoyed with how concise and ambiguous he can be. The censorship can make him sound scripted or something. But then again, sometimes in the heat of a moment his composure drops a few notches and he says things that contain the kind of honesty Lily wanted, but then he's being a "psychopath"! There's no winning!

"Erik"'s truthfully really obsessed with his presentation, though, even alone, to himself. As he learned he could come off certain ways and have as much control over how he reacted and what he said, he also came to really appreciate parkour. In case not everyone on my journal knows what parkour is, it's a sport I guess you could call it, where your goal is to navigate an industrial setting just by manipulating everything available to you at any given moment. lol Sounds strange. If you've ever heard of the video game Mirror's Edge, the character you play uses parkour to get around. For a number of years I've thought it was really interesting, and it really provided a modern-day equivalent to "Erik" since he cannot quite behave like a ghost. A lot of it has to do with being able to climb, run across walls, etc... and not have to bring things with you to use, which is why, cool as it was, when he used his umbrella to jump over the gate in chapter 35 it was just him being creative. lol

Anyway, this is how he occupies himself. Constantly endeavoring to have moved and spoke just as he should have. I said that when he touched something, his fingers landed as softly as a spider's legs. (And yeah, Lily was saying his whole body's angles and color looked like a spider.) And the metaphor just kept going from there, when Lily started relating herself to a butterfly, and he somehow discovered that, and then he gave her the necklace, and all the while she knew she would be "spun up". And of course, me the mediocre writer, recognizes they just kissed and will have to include something about a venom she anticipated finally hitting her veins and making her more his than ever before...

It discomforts Lily that his fascination with control leads him to think he can behave as if he is not human, though. He kind of loved to subject himself to harmful situations just to feel the reality of his love for her. To come for her whenever, even when he hadn't been able to sleep, even when the temperature was below freezing, or to de-thorn a thousand roses, persisting through all those pricks? I guess it also relates to why he is self-injurious and cutting up various parts of his body. It is for some cause to take himself to the extreme of being powerful, enduring, and in love with someone, an emotion he treasures more than anything even though it seems rather unfitting in his life.

Being able to write, privately, and to Lily, and to share with her the delusion that they have their characters' hearts, is like his release from his own obsession with teaching his mind and body to be so perfected.

And here, I've said so many things that had nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera, which is why I think he has become a strong character instead of just a manifestation of what we phangirls fantasize about. I have somehow come to understand him even though I too don't know who he is. Friend, last night, was surprised that I said I didn't know his name, but like Lily, it was an unnecessary fact. (I mean I know all my other character's names, but some I don't know half as well as "Erik" - it's like we really need to go out for coffee some time! Or tea I should say.) Also, I guess writing in the point of view of someone falling in love with him, and being his creator, gives me a soft spot, even though he is crazy and does some bad things that she doesn't yet know about.

Isn't this kind of what the real Phantom was all about, though? He recognized that he was hideous, but he was so gifted in every way, and pushed that to the limits, for himself as well as for Christine. Because he could not teach her to love his face, or love that he lived in darkness, he gave her every other thing that he could to win her. A spectacular gift in its own right, I would say! Which is why in some cases I really don't know how the bloody fuck she choose a guy who had gone to no lengths except singing to her on a rooftop.

He definitely killed in her name, and was obsessive, but Erik seems like literature's perfect antihero. Perhaps Lily recognizes that, though most Christines never did until it was too late. So... that leaves us looking into a haze as to what happens next, if she is allowing him to fully bloom into what he is, intentions and all, with her around.