Abearius treated me to The Magic Flute last night. Not his–Mozart’s. It was the first live opera that I attended, back when I was but a wee gay, in 1986 or so. I had so much fun revisiting it, but got a little too involved in the narrative, and wanted to know what was going to happen to the Queen of the Night and her daughter when they got together for dinner the next time. “Hey, Pamina, remember that guy I told you to stab–the one who finally brought you and your husband together??” I was chirpily singing my rendition of the Queen of the Night’s “The vengeance of hell boils in my heart” in the shower this morning. Love does indeed conquer all in this wonderful opera, even narrative and character inconsistencies. The rational and irrational boil down to enlightened male vs. hysterical female. I see a great neo-noir remake.
Thanks Jeff!