The Air is Full of Longing: Marguerite's Lament, D'Amour L'ardente Flamme

Although most of you reading this are familiar with the story of Faust, the emotionally bored doctor who sells his soul to the devil for the love of a woman. The woman in the story, Marguerite, was an innocent maid who knew nothing of what Faust had done and where he has inexplicably disappeared to (it's hard enough to get a normal guy to tell you what he's up to let alone one bedeviled by Mephistopheles!). She now takes to sitting up by her bedroom window and desperately waits for the man she loves to return.

Click here for a youtube clip of the aria (if the link doesn't work, just search Youtube for "Marguerite d'amour l'ardente flamme").

Time stalls when you aren't having fun. And fun is far removed from Marguerite's mood as she sits by her window, looking longingly out onto the cruelly empty courtyard. Where has Faust gone? Vanished without a word for his beloved? The listless evening is haunted by the lone English horn, its lilting melody hangs solitary in the air, echoing Marguerite's unfulfilled yearning as her heart pulses to the beat of the strings.

"D'amour l'ardente flamme,..... Of love, the ardent flame,
consume mes beaux jours....... consuming my fine days.
Ah! la paix de mon âme............ Ah, the peace of my soul
a donc fui pour toujours!.......... have fled for all time!"

Her sense of panic stirs the flutes, clarinets and horns along as their previous passivity modulates into a more attentive mode.

"Son départ, son absence......... His departure, his absence,
sont pour moi le cercueil,........ are, to me, my end.
Et, loin de sa présence............. And, far from his presence,
tout me paraît en deuil............. all I see is mourning."

The strings palpitate as the woodwinds wail out Marguerite's agony... Can the poor lady's innocent heart withstand her rising agitation?

"Alors ma pauvre tête................ And so my poor head
se dérange bientôt,................... soon become deranged.
Mon faible cœur s'arrête,.......... My feeble heart arrests
puis se glace aussitôt................ and quickly turns to ice."

Fallen into hopelessness, the English horn again takes up the pathos. Love is an ardent flame - and its absence slowly but surely erodes her will to live....

But as she remembers the only person who could cure her current emotional descent her heart quickens. His image sears brightly into the night sky as the tempo brisks up again to 9/8 and the helpful violins conjure up Faust's day-brightening smile, the woodwinds filling in the details...

"Sa marche que j'admire,......... His march that I so admire,
son port si gracieux,.................. his graceful carriage,
sa bouche au doux sourire,..... His mouth carved in sweet smile,
le charme de ses yeux,............. The charm of his eyes,"

Marguerite revives straight into a mini-mania. Her hysteria building with the remembrance of their romantic encounters...

"sa voix enchanteresse,.............. His enchanting voice,
dont il sait m'embraser,............ that he used to set me ablaze...
de sa main la caresse,.............. as his hand caresses.
Hélas! et son baiser,.................. Alas! And his kiss..."

Oh, I'm sure he didn't stop with only a kiss... But carry on, by all means! Even the flute has joined into our mistress' obsessive melody now.

"d'une amoureuse flamme,........ Of an amorous flame
consument mes beaux jours!... which consumes my fine days!
Ah! le paix de mon âme............. Ah! The peace of my soul
a donc fui pour toujours!........... Has forever fled from me!"

Once you have tasted a consummated passion, its flushing profusion leaves a lasting imprint. No longer even pretending to be innocent, Marguerite remembers all that she can't decently tell with her hands gripping the window sills, her eyes closed as she breathes in the chill night air.

"Je suis à ma fenêtre,............... I am at my window,
ou dehors, tout le jour,.......... Where, outside, all day long,
c'est pour le voir paraître,..... I long to see him appear,
ou hâter son retour.................. or to hasten his return."

Her senses detonate into a breathless frenzy with each rhythmic thrusting from the strings...

"Mon cœur bat et se presse..... My heart beats and presses
dès qu'il le sent venir,............. as it senses his coming.
au gré de ma tendresse........... By the grace of my tenderness
puis-je le retenir!....................... may I retain him!"

Her brain flushed with all the wrong hormones, it is no longer possible to identify love from lust.

"Ô caresses de flamme!............. Oh, caressing flame!
que je voudrais un jour........... That I would like, one day,
voir s'exhaler mon âme........... To see him exhaling my soul
dans ses baisers d'amour!....... In his loving kisses!"

The English horn once again sounds its lament - no longer just for its mistress' achingly unfulfilled lust but also for the dreaded but certain end to her sufferings. The strings weep along in falling phrases with the woodwinds, waiting for the the timpani to drum in the approaching brassy dawn. You don't have to know how the story actually ends to foretell it from Berlioz's deftly descriptive music!

La damnation de Faust is really a hybrid work somewhere between a proper opera and an string of musical scene tableaux. It is rather difficult to stage in a coherent manner, though there are a few good recordings of this work to choose from! I highly recommend the DVD from 1999 Salzburg Festival (Cambreling, Kasarova, Groves, White) is visually psychedelic and musically superb. There is also a very good DVD of a concert performance of this opera from Royal Albert Hall in 1989 (Solti, Von Otter, Lewis, Van Dam). If you can manage to catch any live performance of this thing with Susan Graham as Marguerite, though, it is a show not to miss!