Leaving La Boheme, I could not help but feel a profound and heavy sorrow. I really felt sad. For a while I tried to understand why. Initially I thought it might be because the very last act shows Mimi, the poor and ill lover of Rudolfo, passing away, with her friends and lover surrounding her and mourning. But that did not really explain what I felt. I thought further that it might be the same kind of sorrow that comes with every movie, play, or opera that shows the arc of a relationship, from the optimistic beginning to the gloomy end. There is something tragic in the fleeting nature of joy and the efforts of those who try to keep it alive, just as Rudolfo and his friends struggle to keep a weak fire alive in their poverty-stricken home. There is a constant struggle with so many forces, but it mainly boils down to survival from a material perspective. The survival of the characters on stage is anything but guaranteed. Food arrives by luck. The rent and bills are paid through wit. The jerking between moments of absolute nothingness, both on a material and emotional level, and moments of almost excessive merriment and material goods is a running theme. I think what was so sad is that in these oscillations, Mimi and Rudolfo found a corner of peace in their mutual affection which transported them from their situation, but only briefly. The creeping of Mimi’s illness shows just how unstable that situation is. I think what is also so sad is the nature of Mimi’s and Rudolfo’s love. This was an affection between two remarkably lonely individuals who needed each other’s company. Their love blossomed almost immediately upon meeting, but always seemed to lack depth and a true appreciation of each other’s characters. To see these two characters, struck by poverty, losing the island of joy that mutually sustained them only briefly (even if superficially) is tragic, and I think that is why I felt sorrow after watching La Boheme.
