Turandot: Why can’t Modern Romance be like this?

Ok so on the 30th of August, Farinelli and I headed down to the Esplanade to catch the Singapore Lyric Opera’s rendition of Turadot. A tragic love story, a beautiful love story, a silly diversion. Whatever your opinion about Opera is, I believe that it teaches women very important life lessons! Such as but not limited to:

  1. If you want to have many many rich princes come after you, wear a white robe, be immensely fat, and spread the good word about your beauty
  2. Acting like you’re the Daughter of a God or something and its perfectly ok to have any suitor of yours executed if he can’t answer your riddle. That’s a GREAT way to make men want you MORE!
  3. Having lost, you should throw a type nine Bitch fit. People will die for you and that’ll make your lover want your fat ass more
  4. Fall madly in love after one kiss with your husband to be. Because his agreeing to answer three riddles on pain of death, and wild pronouncements of adoration have melted your cold stony kryptonite heart.
  5. The slave who killed herself over her unrequited love with your husband? Who cares.
  6. The father who somehow appears periodically to moan and groan? Whatever. Such a calefare.

Don’t forget Men have lessons to learn to!

In order to get a slave to want you, you smile at her. Boom, Done. She’ll now be willing to sacrifice her life for you and agree to dedicate her life to your old decrepit father who probably has an unhealthy interest in her.

In order to get a princess to want you, you catch a glimpse of her lardy butt emerge, only to order the execution of one of countless other men, then make wild professions of undying adoration, agreeing to answer three riddles.

Answers to which are egomaniacal and frankly dumb. When she tries to renege on her promise (because seriously a woman who gets off on repeatedly killing men who can’t answer riddles sounds like she’ll keep her promises no?), you give her an out, asking her to figure out what your name is (oh and you should be as egomaniacal as she is) if not you’ll willingly have yourself executed.

When she tortures your slave for information, who you smiled at, hence making her fall in love with you, you get pissed for about 25 seconds. But then kiss the princess anyway and marry her. With the adoring attention of the commoners and your father in law who really just walks around and sits on a throne. Oh and when you actually do get married, its common practice to smoosh cheeks together.

Ah yes, the wisdom of the fabulous Puccini. It was such an easy time. With murders, and riddles ruling the day. Don’t you wish we had it so easy?