“Marguerite,” a 2015 film, tells the story of a wealthy French baroness who is obsessed with the beauty of opera. She also thinks she can sing. In fact, she is tone deaf. But sing she does anyway. She knows all the famous operas and has costumes and scenery to match. But when she opens her mouth what comes out is off-key and loud, with some efforts reaching screeching proportions. She cannot hear what she sounds like. I know that’s hard to believe. But, have you ever heard a recording of your own voice? Your first response might be surprise: “That’s not me.” Yes, it is you — for better or worse.
She becomes a generous benefactor to local charities and she often invites rich friends to come to benefit concerts held in the great hall of her exquisite mansion. The guests make significant donations and sit through awful solos by Lady Marguerite.
Everyone in my family sang. When I entered the seminary I sang with the other seminarians. An amateur promoter came to the seminary with very fine recording equipment. We were singing Gregorian chant and some new English psalmody. I was asked to solo on Psalm 23. When the tape was played back, I sounded fine, even beautiful. I was stunned. I had never heard my voice before.
It’s pretty difficult to judge yourself. You may think you are quite smart; others think you are talkative and self-promoting. You kind of like the clever way you drive. Others think you are inattentive and dangerous on the roads. They don’t want to ride with you.
I used to think that I came from a celebrated city, Chicago, and I was proud to register at hotels overseas and list Chicago as my home-town… that is, until I noted the reactions of hotel clerks.
One hotel manager in Florence suddenly lifted his arms as if he were holding a “Tommy Gun” and sprayed the foyer with air-bullets, all the while chanting “AL CA-PON-E, AL CA-PON-E.” At A fine hotel in Acapulco, the very proper desk clerk simply lifted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes as he contemplated “Chicago.”
In the film Lady Marguerite was given the opportunity to record an aria. She was delighted. But, when she heard her own voice, she swooned and died in her husband’s arms.
May we be granted the humilty to see ourselves as others see us before we die of embarrassment.