Manon Lescaut delves into the complexities of a woman wrestling with societal
expectations and her own desires, offering a narrative often misunderstood by those who don’t look beyond the surface. Manon, a character objectified by both society and her family, finds herself conditioned to believe her worth lies solely in her beauty and ability to provide ‘recompense’, as her brother Lescaut puts it. The opera exposes a clear patriarchal pattern, where Manon’s value is dictated by the male figures in her life. Lescaut said so himself, “Manon is sweet, but she is empty.”
The encounter with Des Grieux marks a turning point, as he sees her not as an
object, but as his saviour: “All I know is that I awoke when you came”. Their romance unfolds despite Manon’s hesitance, who is torn between her affection for Des Grieux and her brother’s pact to marry her off to the wealthy Geronte. When Manon makes the daring choice to flee with Des Grieux, the opera shifts gears, the music turns dramatic, and the audience finally understands that society’s expectations dictate her every move.
Manon’s fixation on (and, subtly, fear of) beauty becomes the central theme that
reflects both societal standards and her own internalised beliefs. Here, beauty
equates to value, and its pursuit comes at a cost, the latter that can be paid by
Geronte. Manon’s actions are hypocritical, as she is torn between a desperate love
and financial security. Yet that misconstrues her as a villain, which is a skewed
perception of her character.
Des Grieux epitomises the archetypal lover, the quintessential main character
mesmerised by his bella donna, prepared to fight for her to his death if he must.
Despite her recurrent departures, he remains loyal, swayed by her gestures that
suggest love, though their veracity may be questionable. His defeat by love is
recurrent, because as she leaves him, he continues to pursue her.
Manon’s choices stem from a complex mix of love, ambition, and self-preservation. Her love was pure, her soul, perhaps, not so much. But her struggles with social expectations and her own desires don’t make her evil; she is merely human, flawed and imperfect yet capable of genuine love and compassion. She may not fit neatly into the role of hero or villain, but it is precisely this ambiguity that makes her character, and therefore the play, so compelling and relatable.
Ultimately, the script of Manon Lescaut was undeniably beautiful, every word
becoming a piece of art that made me see emotion and turmoil right before my eyes. Accompanied by the wonderful orchestra, led by conductor Gerry Cornelius, the production was mesmerising. The costumes, however, were the dissonance of the performance. While visually striking, they seemed to clash with the sombre
atmosphere of the play, almost as if they were attempting to alleviate the inherent
sadness rather than enhance it.
Despite this minor discrepancy, the overall production of Manon Lescaut was a
triumph, a tribute to the struggle of women grappling with their yearning for love on their own terms, and society’s double standards. It left a lasting impression and was proof of the timeless beauty and heart-wrenching drama of Puccini’s masterpiece.
Rating: ★★★★☆
Manon Lescaut played at the Sheffield Lyceum on March 11th & is touring the U.K. until May 27th
