The Phantom of the Opera: Toxic Love and Rejection

Last updated on 28 Apr 2026

Whether you’ve seen it on screen, in the theatre, or even read it, you’ve probably heard of The Phantom of the Opera. If not, you might know it from the recognizable, profound organ sound at the beginning of the 2004 movie soundtrack.

One of the central themes of The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux is the difficulty, if not impossibility, of fulfilling love and achieving social belonging because of external deformity and societal rejection. The novel can be read as suggesting that individual, even if society treats him/her as “monsters”, can be vulnerable, jealous, and deeply yearning for love, but that this very love can also lead to self-destruction and violence. At the same time, even if we understand a person’s pain, this does not mean we should justify harmful behaviour toward others.

Toxic love and relationships

Erik, the Phantom, also known as the Angel of Music, gives singing lessons to Christine Daaé. He soon falls in love with her, but that love becomes dangerous when he feels rejected. This danger is evident in Erik’s obtrusive and controlling behaviour toward Christine: he attempts to pressure her into loving him (for instance, in chapter two). By doing so, he displays patterns of control that ultimately lead to destructive consequences.

His passive aggression and obsessive tendencies are sometimes reframed as expressions of love, while his controlling behaviour is mistaken for care.

Erik is portrayed as a deeply sensitive man who has been rejected because of his physical appearance (disfigured face). His longing to be loved gradually transforms into behaviour that harms the very people he cares about. Leroux’s narrative suggests that no one should be reduced to a “monster” solely because of how they look; instead, it invites readers to look more closely, to be more introspective, and to attempt to understand others beyond surface-level judgments.

At the same time, the novel illustrates what happens when love turns into possession and obsession, particularly in someone shaped by insecurity and rejection. From a contemporary psychological perspective, Erik’s behaviour might be interpreted as resembling an anxious-preoccupied attachment style, in which fear of abandonment drives controlling and destructive actions.

Some contemporary interpretations and adaptations tend to justify or excuse Erik’s behaviour (such as murder, kidnapping, and coercion) by emphasizing his traumatic past and intense emotional suffering, rather than confronting the nature of his actions. His passive aggression and obsessive tendencies are sometimes reframed as expressions of love, while his controlling behaviour is mistaken for care. In this way, Erik is often portrayed as a misunderstood genius, which can contribute to downplaying the seriousness of his actions and the harm he causes.

Despite his harmful actions, Erik ultimately makes a morally significant decision: he lets Christine go, allowing her to be with Raoul, even though doing so brings him suffering.

What is healthy love?

Raoul de Chagny is Christine’s childhood friend. They first meet on the beach when Christine’s red scarf is carried off by the sea, and Raoul runs to retrieve it. They reconnect later when Raoul sees her performing at the opera house, and his feelings quickly return. Christine’s affection also revives, but she hesitates to express it openly because she fears what the Phantom might do to Raoul. She pities Erik, but she does not truly love him.

...representing a form of healthy, secure love. His affection for Christine is unselfish, steady, and grounded.

Raoul de Chagny can be read as representing a form of healthy, secure love. His affection for Christine is unselfish, steady, and grounded. He reflects ideals associated with late 19th-century respectability, stability, restraint, and emotional security. In contrast to Erik’s intensity, Raoul’s love is consistent and non-coercive.

In some contemporary readings, however, Raoul is perceived as dull, especially when compared to Erik’s dramatic and obsessive passion. Through a modern lens, Erik’s behaviour might be described in terms such as love-bombing or gaslighting, while Raoul’s steady and respectful approach is sometimes dismissed as uninteresting.

At the same time, Raoul’s character is not without limitations: his social privilege and relative emotional simplicity can make him appear less compelling as a literary figure, particularly when contrasted with Erik’s complexity and intensity. This contrast may partly explain why audiences are often drawn to Erik despite the destructive nature of his actions. This perception may also reflect a broader cultural tendency to see emotional intensity and suffering as signs of deeper love. Research suggests that people often understand love through stories, and these stories tend to favour dramatic and emotionally charged relationships. At the same time, studies show that audiences can form strong emotional connections with fictional characters, even when those characters behave in harmful ways, which can make such portrayals seem more acceptable.

...love cannot be forced. If someone does not love us, or no longer does, we cannot compel them to stay; we must allow them their freedom, even at the cost of our own heartbreak.

Conclusion

How have we come to interpret Erik’s love as exciting or desirable, while Raoul’s appears uninteresting or dull? We seem to be part of a broader cultural pattern that often associates emotional intensity, possessiveness, and suffering with romantic depth - an association that can shape how relationships are understood and valued.

The romanticization of Erik’s behaviour, marked by manipulation and control, can foster empathy in ways that risk obscuring its harmful nature. When coercive dynamics are reframed as expressions of love, they may influence how people interpret real-life relationships and emotional boundaries.

In that context, we might ask: how can healthy relationships be valued if narratives continue to frame persistence, control, and emotional intensity as desirable traits? Rather than offering a simple moral lesson, Leroux’s novel opens space for reflection on how love is imagined and represented.

In this reading, Leroux can be seen as inviting readers not to mimic Erik – whose love is possessive, envious, and controlling – but to recognize the importance of respect, care, and emotional autonomy in relationships. At the same time, Erik’s final decision to let Christine go suggests a more complex message: that love cannot be forced. If someone does not love us, or no longer does, we cannot compel them to stay; we must allow them their freedom, even at the cost of our own heartbreak.

What do you think: have you ever found yourself romanticizing a character, or even a real-life person, whose “passion” was, in reality, controlling or harmful? And how can we, as readers and viewers, begin to value forms of love that are stable, respectful, and perhaps less dramatic, but ultimately more humane?

#phantomoftheopera #gastonleroux #angelofmusic #frenchliterature #toxicrelationship #love

Source:

Gaston Leroux, translation by Dina Kerhin-Lapaine, Fantom Opere, Jutarnji list, 2005

Further read:

Greco, C. & Lopes, M. I. V., “Fanfic as adaptation: The Phantom of the Opera case”, Comunicación y Sociedad, 2020., e7561. https://doi.org/10.32870/cys.v2020.7561

Dunlop, W. L.; Harake, N.; Gray, J. S.; Hanley, G. E.; McCoy, T. P., “The rises and falls of romance: Considering redemption, contamination, and affective tone in the narrative construction of love lives,” Journal of Research in Personality, Volume 74, June 2018, Pages 23-29 https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jrp.2018.01.003

Liebers, N.; Straub, R., “Fantastic relationships and where to find them: Fantasy and its impact on romantic parasocial phenomena with media characters,” Poetics, Volume 83, December 2020, 101481, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.poetic.2020.101481