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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 1 year

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Susan Kay's 'Phantom' Read: Part IV (Nadir)

I always knew I'd have mixed feelings about this chunk of the book.

I feel like the issues with the rampant Orientalism and just generally how very wrong Kay is about so much of this have been sufficiently commented on by others, so I'm not going to spend a lot of real estate on that. I'm mainly going to focus on what bugs me personally.

Which is... well, several things

Where do I start?

I guess with "Nadir" himself. I don't know who "Nadir" is, but he's #NotMyDaroga. 'Why's that?' You may ask? Well because, in my opinion, he's only tangentially related to his source material. There's a lot here that checks the boxes: Daroga of Mazanderan, reluctant with many of his duties, simultaneously in awe of and terrified of Erik’s genius all of that's in there. Buuuuut

First of all, Kay took the most practical, likeable character in Leroux's work and made him whiny and annoying. All he does for the first five pages is complain. Within those five pages he also refers to himself as "regrettably squeamish". Nothing happens in the course of this episode to show him growing out of that, so how we get the, pragmatic badass who haunts the Paris opera house keeping Erik in check I have no idea (I also have no idea how this is gonna go later in the book).

Not only that but this in particular stuck out to me:

Some of the illusions were positively supernatural, and long before the show was at an end, I was quietly convinced that I stood in the presence of a genie, created from fire more than two thousand years before Adam. I noted uneasily that he was left handed. Every Moslem knows that the devil is left handed--it is for this reason that we always take care to spit to the left. My fingers felt instinctively for the amulets that hung at my neck, an outstretched hand made in silver and the dried eye of a sheep, killed at Mecca on the great day of sacrifice. Both were powerful protective agencies, and I had never felt more in need of their protection. I took care not to meet his gaze, for I already feared his evil eye.

This stands in sharp contrast to the Persian of Leroux:

If I had been a superstitious man or easily susceptible to weakness, I could not have failed to think that I had to do with a siren of some sort whose task was to trouble the voyager bold enough to travel on the waters of the lakeside house; but, thank God, I come from a country where the fantastic is so cherished that we know it to its depths, and in times past I myself have studied it extensively. Anyone who knows the magicians trade can excite the human imagination with a few simple tricks.

Of course you can make the argument that the Persian speaking here has known Erik for years now and is wise to his tricks, whereas Kay's "Nadir" is seeing them for the first time. But I'm sorry. I don't buy it. Leroux's Daroga, though amazed and awestruck by Erik's skills at illusion, never indicates that he has even been so fooled by them as to actually mistake him for more than what he is: a genius, certainly, but no genie.

Which leads me to wonder if Erik's magic tricks in this book aren't a little too fantastic. Granted Kay never leads us to believe that they really are supernatural, but she uses Erik's degree of genius as a bit of a shield to get away with not revealing the secrets to some truly fantastic tricks, while Leroux nearly always explains Erik's mechanisms (whether they would work to the level of efficacy Leroux describes its up for debate, but he at least does have explanations for them all.

I think it's hilarious and contemptible that Kay has, at numerous times in this book, dropped incredibly clunky and gratuitous clusters of architectural technical terms, just lists of them for no apparent reason except, I can only assume, to show off how much research she did on the subject; and then makes it so patently obvious that her cultural research is dubious, negligible, or entirely non-existent.

She goes to great lengths to paint Nadir as a devout Muslim, which is not something Leroux ever did, now that I think about it. I don't doubt that the Persian is, at least culturally, be he seems quite ambivalent to his religion, as a rule. It quite literally (as far as I can recall) never comes up. But Nadir is. Several times she has him exclaim "Allah" much in the way a Westerner would use "God" as an expletive. Not "Wallah" not even "By Allah" just "Allah".

"Allah, how I hated cats!"

And it's not only the things he says but the things he doesn't say that annoy me (though I'm a layman, and very much open to correction). Common Islamic phrases that could easily be used in any of the situations Nadir finds himself in are completely left by the wayside. There isn't even a single "Inshallah" in his entire narrative.

Another problem I have is that Kay's Daroga is a widower with a sick son. A very complex emotional relationship develops among Erik, Nadir, and Nadir's son, Reza, to whom Erik feels an affinity, as the boy is slowly crippled by a debilitating congenital disease. I have a problem with this because its all very... I call it the Michael Burnham effect. That is to say this is a very important and big emotional thing in The Persian's relationship with Erik and I don't believe that this wouldn't have come up in any of the Persian's narrative if it was actually the case. This is a liberty which Kay, in my opinion, shouldn't have taken. It affects Erik's entire relationship with The Persian in ways that strain my credulity. And it's part of the reason that Erik's character here is fully beginning to stray deeper into a musical-based version than the Leroux-version (which I have a problem with, as this book is ostensibly following Leroux's outline). She even goes to far as to have Erik acknowledge Nadir, with complete (if reluctant) sincerity, as his friend. And this pretty much confirms my suspicions of where "Erik and Daroga are friends" comes from. Whatever Erik and The Persian's odd relationship in the book is, I can't call it friendship with how frequently The Persian calls him "the monster".

Note don't get me wrong Erik and Daroga do definitely have a bizarre bond that is, I think, a kind of friendship. Daroga feels sympathy for Erik, and also responsibility for him. He is, in many, ways, more like an older brother than a friend. I could say so much on this subject but that's for another post.

But what I find really baffling and annoying about Erik and Nadir's "friendship" in this book is the drugs.

I can't express how repugnant I find this. I think it's an insult to both Erik and the Persian, the fact that Nadir HIMSELF GETS ERIK HOOKED ON OPIUM. WHY. And then she has the fucking nerve to lampshade with all the "Oh yes Opium's a terrible horrible deadly habit" Only to have Nadir turn right around and give Erik his fix. What the actual fuck.

But setting aside that Susan Kay actually said "I'm not just going to make Nadir annoying, I'm also going to make him an enabler!" Is the fact that... I just don't buy Erik doing drugs.

I know Erik is an artist, and artists throughout the ages have been associated with decadent habits like drugs and alcohol to soothe their tortured souls or broaden their minds to ever more fantastic plains blah blah blah.

But Erik is not an every day kind of character. Erik is notable in how uniquely he glories in his tribulations. Erik's music in particular is a manifestation of his pure emotions both good and bad, and I think for him to alter his moods with substances, to him, would sully the purity of his art, which he always characterizes as a spiritual, almost holy thing.

And here's another thing. Part of the reason Erik is doing opium in this book is, yes the horrors of his past, but also the terrible things he's doing in the present... which I do think Erik of Leroux did grow sick of what was demanded of him in Persia (he explicitly says he wanted to put it all behind him), but I don't think he probably felt... that bad about it? I dunno maybe that's just me.

Moving on.

I'll pause here to say that while I think Kay is a bit guilty of "de-fanging" Erik in this book, I genuinely do appreciate her emphasis on his affinity for the weak and broken, and his knack with animals.

So now I come to one of the things that made me look most askance at this section. Again, the conceit of this book (or at least what I was given to understand the conceit was) is that its filling in the blanks that Leroux left vague. And I don't really know if that was Susan Kay's intention, but it's certainly how the Phandom took it. Which is why it bugs me when there are things in here that either don't quite jive with canon or straight up contradict it.

Now in terms of the canon of Leroux's actual book, we're not sure exactly which Shah employed Erik. Leonard Wolf point out that Leroux mentions Erik "[fighting] the Emir" and posits that he is referring to the Afghani-Persian war of 1837. This would put Erik’s age in PotO at about 60, assuming he was very young at the time (in his teens). That would make Erik's patron Mohammad Shah Qajar.

However M. Grant Kellermeyer (and most others writing about this period in Erik’s life, including Susan Kay) favour the idea that Erik’s patron was Mohammed's son, Nasser al din Shah Qajar.

When Erik and the Persian talk about the "Rosy Hours of Mazanderan" they both make mention of the "Little Sultana", who is described by Leroux's narrator in the epilogue as "the Shah-in-Shah's favourite", whose boredom was the Shah's impetus for sending the Persian to find Erik in the first place, and whose delight in bloodthirsty spectacles of torture and execution allowed Erik's talents in those areas to develop into a finely honed art.

Now I would take "the Little Sultana" to mean one of the Shah's wives, concubines, daughters, or even a sister.

But Kay, for some inexplicable reason, chooses to interpret this capricious (and bloodthirsty) female figure--the Shah's favourite--as his... mother.

Now Nasser al din Shah's mother was Malek Jahan Khanom, who, true to Kay's portrayal was Regent of Persia for one month (September 5th - October 5th) in 1848. Also like Kay's "Khanum", Malek was a formidable and politically savvy woman, and definitely not an individual you would want to cross.

I can't dispute the idea of the Khanom being an incredibly powerful figure, and the type you would need and want to keep appeased (she is described by Kay as keeping her son firmly under her thumb), but I have to look at the fact that Kay read "The Little Sultana, the Shah's Favourite" and really said, "Right. That'll be his mom" and squint a little bit.

On top of this, the Khanum is characterized as having a sexual obsession with Erik, very similar to the way Duchess Josiana is aroused by Gwynplaine's facial deformity in Victor Hugo's The Man Who Laughs, and is first irritated, then enraged by Erik's constant indifference. This fact is not lost on the Shah.

I just don't know ya'll. It's...I just... I don't know about this.

M. Grant Kellermeyer speculates that the "Little Sultana" Leroux refers to, to be the seventh wife of Nasser al din Shah, Jeyran, whom he first took as a mistress in around 1850 following a chance encounter during which he apparently fell in love with her on sight. One story of their meeting even asserts that she was one of his mother's servants.

If that is the case it would be one reason why Malek and Jeyran stood locked for years in stark political opposition to each other.

Jeyran was herself formidable and enjoyed many masculine pursuits including hunting and shooting, and not even the Khanom was able to dissuade Nasser from conferring her the title of Forough ol-Saltaneh, or from naming her son the crown prince (though this decision was stuck in political hell for years because of Jeyran's lack of influential blood-lines).

She was his favourite wife until her early death in 1860 at the age of 29.

It's my opinion that Leroux's "Little Sultana" is a composite of Jeyran and her successor as the Shah's favourite, Anis al-Dalweh, who was even more formidable and politically savvy than Jeyran. She was the only one of the Shah's wives known to share his meals and the only one he suffered to publicly criticize him, and she took over Malek's duties as the head of the harem upon her death in 1873.

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