Carmen, The Opera

I feel as if I have so much to say about Carmen and yet nothing to say at all. I hated her for her flippant attitude and her overt and unabashed sexuality, and yet quite liked her for those exact same reasons. She was manipulative, cold, and selfish. But she was strong. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to get it. Like love, she was eternally free and would never be bound to anything or anyone. Maybe I admire that, the sense of freedom that allows her to live in honesty with her emotions and identity. But even though she was unafraid to act on emotion, she does so with a coldness that isn’t the normal tenderness that emotions should bring: she understands—and maybe prescribes—that her emotions will constantly change, and therefore she always changes. She has an effect on people, specifically her love on Jose. But it makes no difference to her. And that is something I despise: her inability to recognize anyone but herself. That’s exactly who she is, a gypsy constantly on the move—in physical space and in her heart.

Besides for the actual storyline, going to the opera was a great experience. I’ll admit, I grew pretty tired as the opera went on (come on, 3 hours is along time), and the constant flickering of my eyes back and forth between the stage and the translation wasn’t super comfortable either. But I liked being there, in that atmosphere, listening to the music of the show and marveling and the grand scenery that added so much. It was definitely a worthy experience.