THE SUNFLOWER
This page contains a piece of fan fiction called 'The Sunflower'. + The Phantom of the Opera Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Freddie Mercury, Bohemian Rhapsody This is fantasy, but there are some elements of reality in it...
It had been a year since I had been to the Clapham Grand. Some strange impulse led me to return that evening, and it was after nightfall when I found myself crossing the road opposite Clapham Junction Station. I approached the door, but on passing, I noticed, to my surprise, that it was slightly ajar. Not fully open, as if an event was going to take place, nor closed as if there was nothing at all happening that evening. I peered through the gap into the foyer out of sheer curiosity. There was nobody in sight. I suddenly found myself possessed with an overwhelming desire to be inside. It only took a moment to step over the threshold, and I was inside, some dim lighting providing just sufficient illumination to reveal a totally deserted box office, confirming that there was not a soul in the place. But then a bang behind me made me start. The door through which I had entered had slammed shut. This had happened abruptly and for no apparent reason. I rushed to the door and to my relief I found that it opened easily, but as I moved to step outside I was driven back by a fierce wind which slapped me in the face and an absolute torrent of rain formed a sheet through which I could hardly see further than halfway across the main road! What was happening? It had been a fine evening up to that point. I could hear the noise of the wind – but on listening more carefully I realised that it was not the wind blowing outside that I could hear, but that the sound came from inside the building. I couldn’t think further about the reason for such a violent storm arriving so quickly; all I knew was that it was totally impractical to step outside again – and besides, that internal wind had given way to the sound of the toy koto – the unmistakeable introduction to the Prophet’s Song. In disbelief, I let the door slam shut once more. Freddie’s voice was singing the first lines: ‘….Beware the storm that gathers here Listen to the wise man… I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair….’ As this last line started I was already facing the stairs that led to the gallery, and, eerily, the light of the moon, was, in fact, breaking through the rain-battered landing window and shedding its natural light on the staircase, so that I could see right to the top. I felt invited to ascend so that I could see exactly what was going on, as the music itself was most probably coming from the auditorium beneath. At the top, a waft of freezing air almost pushed me in the direction of the gallery itself. ‘…And ice cold hearts of charity bare I watched as fear took the old man’s gaze Hopes of the young in troubled graves…’ As the music worked up into a more urgent and desperate beat, I noticed that not only was the atmosphere around me bitter cold, but the words conveyed only despair as I peered over the edge of the balcony into the auditorium beneath. It was very dark indeed; there were no images or points where I could orientate my vision, but as my eyes adjusted to the blackness, I noticed that a faint gleam of light was highlighting one area around the middle of the floor below – and even though I was a distance away I could see very clearly that there lay a familiar album sleeve – that of ‘A Night At The Opera’. It was LP size, like the one I used to have as a teenager, and next to it was an old record player. This was bizarre – I realised that someone had got hold of my old piece of vinyl and had placed the B-side of the disc on the turntable! Or was I going out of my mind by imagining all this? Then there was a glimmer of a third object – a plant pot was standing on the floor next to the other two items, and next to it, standing proud and majestic, was a sunflower. It was very straight and tall, and, as there appeared to be no other living thing apart from me in the building, caught within the grasp of this song’s dreadful admonitions – it looked humanly defiant. Looking more closely I noticed that the entire stem of the plant, and its flower too, were vibrating to the beat of the music. ‘…the earth will shake, in two will break…’ At that point, it felt as though the whole building tremor violently and I felt sure I would have been blasted out of the gallery if I’d not had the presence of mind to grab hold of a railing to steady myself. This terrifying moment over, I saw that there were speakers attached to various points up and down the columns which formed the structure of the building – and not only was there no escaping the immensity of the sound, but multicoloured lights, which also appeared to be placed all around, started to flash on and off in time to the music. ‘Flee for your life!…’ the words commanded, and the whole interior was suddenly bathed in and intense white light from the spotlights – but there was nowhere to run. Mind, body and soul were all immovable and I sensed that I was being turned upside down along with the world around me: ‘Deceive you not the fires of hell will take you Should death await you…’ Then the choral vocals started. The voices began climbing up the walls until they hit the ceiling and cascaded back down again. ‘Now I know…’ on and on… The earth will shake…in two will break…’ It continued, wailing: ‘Now I know…’ until I felt that it was on the point of mockery.’La la la la la la…’ but the singing eventually stopped, then, after beating guitar came the wish: ‘God give you the grace to purge this place And peace all around may be your fortune…’ Motionless, I felt my inside ache deep down – what would happen now? I felt no sense of a meeting with the music – ‘the vision fades’ - even when the toy koto returned at the end, I felt I was falling into tiny little pieces that could never be put together again. As if agreeing with this thought, the sunflower had drooped considerably after the constant shaking, and its petals started to fall off, one by one, as if it were shedding tears. The Prophet’s Song gave way to the harp of ‘Love of my Life’ – Freddie’s words were all-surrounding, all-embracing and all-pleading: ‘Don’t take it away from me because you don’t know what it means to me’. A single spotlight fell on the stage, at the back of which I could make out a screen which was showing Freddie singing the song at concerts through the years – people of many different tongues singing along, displaying a perfect knowledge of the lyrics.
‘You won’t remember when this is blown over And everything’s all by the way And everything’s all by the way When I get older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you – still love you…’ Right the way through, the petals of the sunflower continued to fall relentlessly. Within the voice were my deep-seated memories – ‘how long must you stay to haunt my days?…’ ‘Blown over? Nothing had blown over – living without for years without a desire to ‘get older’. It had been my fault for being so selfish over having my music – it would have to go – I couldn’t return to the place where I was – it was only open to others. Things moved on and changed but my grief and pain were all in that one place. Freddie suddenly vanished – and there was just Brian, years on, strumming his acoustic next to his empty stool, and I was reminded of a distant love which through it all I’d never been deprived of; I knew it was always there. The audience were singing along again:
Picture: Brian at Rotterdam, Christian - Austrian Fan Club
‘Please bring it back home to me because you don’t know what it means to me…’ It was still Freddie’s voice singing from the recording – that was eerie, but at last I I realised that here was the comfort of my memories. In turn, the music changed. As Brian took over as ‘Good Company’ played through, I realised what it really meant to be alone, charting out one’s days without love or feeling, always perpendicular to the canvas of one’s life. But the song is an up-beat ‘ditty’, with a hint of ridicule of the true void which that empty stool could never represent. The Aloha ukelele strummed along, and then during the ‘Dixie land’ instrumental, a group of male dancers with sticks in blue striped blazers, white trousers and boaters doing a brilliant routine. The man in the song had grown old, but my love never did – my love was still childlike, it had never grown old or become embittered. As ‘Good Company’ came to an end, I waited for the sound that would hail the start of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, but it never came. The three strings had served their purpose; the string of awakening, the string of serenity and the string of joviality. But then I looked down into the auditorium; and saw that the sunflower was now completely devoid of its petals. I wanted to scream out – thirty years on and Christmas was now coming. Back then Bohemian Rhapsody had been number one. That had been our last real Christmas in normality as a family – the next year my mother was already very sick – and the year following that she had passed away. But I was called back from these thoughts by the appearance of Roger on the screen – he was singing ‘These are the Days of our Lives’ in front of the film of the four of them in Japan in the seventies – Freddie was laughing playfully at being unsuccessful with the ‘ken-dama’ – the cup and ball game. It was then that I remembered a carefree childhood beyond my loss. Tears welled up within me. I was recalling two early pictures of Roger from my youth – both with a flower. One in particular, where the flower was in his mouth, was a silly, childish picture.
‘Though I’m gone, it’s just as though I hold the flower that touches you….’* As Roger’s sapphire blue eyes shone out as truly as the words he sang: ‘..those
days are all gone now…but I look, and I find no change… I still love you’.
Roger at Arnhem. Source: http://saturnnl002.tripod.com Once he finished, the Rhapsody was immediately played, followed by the National Anthem, marking the end of the evening. I stood there as it played out, realising that it had marked the end of a story many years ago and that, until now, I had never truly reached beyond that story. Now it was the dawn of a new chapter. But I was now filled with a great sense of calm, knowing that I was nearing the end of a journey that had all been part of the same story. All was quiet as I went back down the stairs. Once at the bottom, I opened the door to a night that was clear like never before, with bright stars shining. As I travelled home I carried both the dream and the magic back with me. I knew this because there, lying on my bed when I returned was an enormous sunflower, splendid and glorious and with all its petals perfectly in place. ‘Of course I don’t believe You’re dead and gone..’ Brian May, 'All Dead, All Dead'
*Brian May, Teo Torriatte
Here is my real life sunflower, my daughter Georgia as a toddler in 1996: NOTES: + The symbolism of the Sunflower: Constancy, Adoration and Royalty! It has also been used at Easter festivals; the seeds become many after dying in the ground: Sunflowers: Source: http://www.awakening.org.au/media/symbols.html **John 12:24 -
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth
and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.
The idea of the petals falling off comes from the film 'Dr Zhivago'. Also, there are two videos to the song 'One' by U2. One, interestingly, contains shots depicting the unification of Germany. The other shows a sunflower towards the end, followed by the words 'Smell the flowers while you can'. © 2005 Now-Im-Here.com
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