Brünnhilde
Marvin had been touring the opera circuit for some years. At the age of 24 he already had the big operas under his belt. The Marriage of Figaro, Madame Butterfly, The Barber of Seville, and Faust, to name a few, all of which had brought him critical acclaim. Opera had been his first love. They were bound together, Marvin and Opera, like star-crossed lovers. And star-crossed lovers they were, for it had not been an easy road for Marvin.
From humble beginnings as a young lad growing up in the Yorkshire Dales, Marvin had shown potential as a first-rate polo player. However, his love for opera could not be hidden. This was brought into the light following a crushing defeat in the 1996 County Polo Finals, when Marvin was caught singing an aria from Dido and Aeneas whilst showering in the polo change rooms. He had not always had the support or understanding of his peers but all that had changed as he was now unquestionably one of the world’s top three premier opera performers.
But still, there was one role which had eluded Marvin. The role which Marvin had dreamed of and yet feared more than any other – the role of Brünnhilde in Wagner’s The Ring of Nibelung. It had been his bane for ever so long. Marvin had auditioned for the role more times than he cared to admit. It was not an uncommon occurrence for me to receive a phone call from Marvin at 2am in the morning and listen to him sobbing uncontrollably after failing at yet another Brünnhilde audition. On those nights, those dark nights, the only counsel I could offer him was to say, “Your time will come, Marvin. You are Brünnhilde. Remember that.”
One evening, as I was at home reading Wuthering Heights in my favourite armchair, a glass of cognac at my side, the phone rang. I could see that it was Marvin. Bracing myself, and feeling a sense of guilt at my apprehension, I took a deep breath and answered the phone.
“Yes?” I asked, hesitantly.
“I. Am. Brünnhilde!” came Marvin’s ecstatic voice. Before I could respond, he hung up. I smiled. His dream had come true. I felt such happiness and pride for my friend. Should he pull this off he would pass from greatness to legend. I raised my glass, gave a silent toast to Marvin’s success, and went back to my book.
On opening night, I visited Marvin backstage before the concert. I had rehearsed a speech, for encouragement. But, standing there with him in the dressing room, I decided against it. Marvin did not need any advice from me, he had made it to this point through perseverance and dedication. I looked at Marvin, he at me, and we shook hands. We both knew that words were not required.
As Marvin adorned the headpiece and put on the jewel-encrusted breastplate, he could not eliminate a lingering thought. He knew that all the accolades, all the awards, all the glory would stand for nothing if he could not nail tonight’s performance. He must put such cares aside. The world was waiting for him, and he would deliver. Even if he should fail, tonight – tonight- he was Brünnhilde.
