Know that I am built up of death from head to foot and that it is a corpse that loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!
~ Erik, The Opera Ghost

I don't know. I'm not quite sure about this book being celebrated as the most eerie and haunting horror genre of Victorian era.

I wasn't horrified by the unsightly and disfigured Opera Ghost, Erik. Nor I was bewitch by the beauty and unearthly voice of Christine Daeé. Not even the whelp, aristocratic and noble status of Count Raoul de Chagny gotten my interest.

It was Gaston Leroux literature potency that highly catch my amusement.

I just couldn't stop laughing. It was like satirical, full of wits and humor--I almost forgot it was a gothic romance and a tragic drama. It had truly entertained me at the very end and I'm very glad that I pick up this book with my mother during our shopping!

Every characters seems obviously intended to be comical. I was always thrown-off by my chair laughing by their foolish decisions. Each and everyone of them was lovable for being too ironic, contradictory, sensitive, obsessed and curious. I should probably not snickered myself like a grinning cat while reading the story, since we all know it had a melancholic, somber and lamentable ending. Truly, a bittersweet delight for O.G.

Seriously, even the author got a slang for the ghost. I'm laughing like almost, I am mocking the character but no. I'm not. I don't want to insult his overly-affection towards the damsel who were totally a damned as well for being too naive and stupid. Here as well Raoul, the man with great disposition and unrequited love for his childhood friend--who had insisted so much to chase the woman only to be entangled with foolishness and dread. And Daroga, The Persian could've done any better to prevent all of those mishaps, but still he was a key character to let the whole plot falls unto success.

Love is the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. .

Love cannot be force. .

When he cannot force his love but he gets what he want in the end and be contented to point of committing death.

It was like, I could finally die with happiness. Like seriously! All of those stunts, crime and murder he'd pulled, all of the terrible things he had done to the theater, all this time, he had only wanted was a peck of a kiss from a girl! And even if it's just in a forehead, he was exulted with euphoric state that deliberate driven him to suicide! How priceless for a wish! It's iconic.

The story somewhat justified that the physical appearance of a person will strained the opinions of our judgemental society. It seem ugly people doesn't deserved to be loved just because of their marred countenance, disfigurement and lacking of aesthetics.

But O.G clearly fights for his rights to be acknowledged for what he had, not for what he look. He just yearned to be loved by someone. To be appreciated by someone without disgust and ill judgement. He just wanted someone to adore his soul, not his physical wretchedness.

The only the thing that he had finally felt love rather than his obssession, was the day when someone accepted for who he was. He sets her free in order to declare that his happiness lies to Christine's happiness even if it's that happiness was being with someone else.

The ventriloquist king was truly satisfied.

And all I can say for his Majesty, Long Live The Opera Ghost!