The Naming of Sailboats

I have been restoring an oldish sailboat for some little while and am almost
finished. It seems proper to give her a nice shiny new name and I have been
considering opera character names as possibilities. So I was googling around
to see what other owners had named their boats and I came across the case of
Mr X who had named his boat MUSETTA. His website had FAQs about his boat and
his cruising experience. To the question(s) "Why did you name the boat
"Musetta"? What does it mean?" he answered as follows:

Musetta is of Italian origin, and could possibly mean "little Muse," though
it also may refer to a musical instrument. However, we chose the name after
seeing the Puccini opera, LaBoheme. Musetta is the heroine Mimi's best
friend; she is beautiful, vivacious, and often seen accompanied by an older
man who lavishes lots of money on her - like a boat, no?
The most perfect moment in all of music, to me, is when Musetta returns to
Marcello in the second act of La Boheme. It isn't that I have listened to
enough opera, or music in general to make a statement like that. However, I
can speak of Lear as being the most perfect tragedy without having read
every single tragedies ever written, based on the intuitive perception of
merit, rather than by comparing it to other tragedies, therefore the same
with La Boheme.

I am in love with Musetta. When she screams, feigning pain, she screams in
perfect tone, with impeccable diction. When she first lightly heaves quando
m'en vo..., when the strings complement her by a wave-like motion, in that
moment when everything else is silent, Musetta has everyone charmed, she has
told us that we will sympathize with her wishes and her feelings. The
soprano, a voice most pure and lyrical, seems like the voice made for her to
corrupt with her insatiable desires. Then the voice itself seems like the
thing made for her to express her capacity for love. When she sings, we do
not hear her, or rather, we do not only hear her, but something in us
follows her every movement, every notes of the music, every fluctuation in
her breath, and her every words that we no longer understand because we have
ceased to read the supertitles.

So Musetta has left Marcello for a better life; she is not responsible. At
least, watching her, listening to her, singing As I walk through the
streets, people stop to look at me..., listening to her exult her beauty, we
are made to understand that she deserved then a better life, and that now
Marcello has no choice but to accept her return to a wretched life with
love. Musetta does not have to apologize. Musetta does not live with the
same guilt and bonds as the other girls. For when she walks through the
streets, people stop to look at her. For her beauty is supreme, and for
Puccini gave to her the most beautiful piece of music. She is become a star,
as did the legendary maiden of the mythical times by Zeus's love for them.
Shyness is foreign to beautiful Musetta, and she does not beg for anyone's
love. How wonderful is Musetta, that she does not beg for anyone's love!
That is why we love her so, for she is the embodiment of the pleasure
principle. Musetta is what the ancients called Eros.

I do not like Mimi. She is weak and she is dying. Every note she sings reeks
of impending doom, and her innocence is frightfully prophetic. Mimi's
reunion with Rodolfo is pathetic, while Musetta's reunion with Marcello is
sublime. Mimi can tell us over and over how she loves flowers, but until she
learns to love herself, she will never be quite like Musetta, and she will
continue to die over and over again at the end of the fourth act, so that
Rodolfo can cry for her, so that Colline can pawn his coat for her, and so
that Musetta may buy her a cuff.

Same is with Violetta. Who can admire a woman who will give her and her
lover's happiness so that some unknown tramp may marry some insignificant
boy? Violetta is at her best when she is debating with herself whether she
deserves to be happy or not. Musetta would debate with herself whether
others deserve to be happy at the same time as her. Any expression of joy
that escapes from Violetta's tragical lips seems feigned; any possibility of
triumph in life is weighed down by the tragedy inherent in her incurable and
ever present disease.

Carmen I like, but she still is not Musetta's equal in radiance. Carmen,
like Musetta, have a flawlessly falstaffian attitude toward life. Her mezzo
is dark and resonant and she has quite possibly the two most beautiful mezzo
arias (on second thought, that isn't possible, for Rossini has lived). But
Carmen is an idealist. She is not above dying to make a point, and she at
the end lets poor Don Jose stab her in order to show that her freedom is
absolute. In that way, Carmen, too, is diseased, although not with
consumption as is fashionable among sopranos (for she is a mezzo) but with a
naive idealism. And in addition to all that, she has no recitative.

La Boheme is an ensemble piece, with Rodolfo and Mimi as its hero and
heroine. But neither Rodolfo nor Mimi, both of which are very fascinating
and gripping characters, are allowed to dominate the opera, as Musetta, by
her brief appearances, wrestles the plot from underneath them. The greatest
crime ever committed by a man in this century maybe by Puccini, Giacosa, and
Illica, when they would not more fully exploit Musetta's character. However,
one must first understand that it is an enormous imaginative burden to
create and sustain a character like Musetta, or Sancho Panza, or Falstaff.
That is a feat seldom done, and even more seldom repeated. Meanwhile, what
we have of Musetta is enough to make us love her. In that moment when
Musetta sing what we now call Musetta's waltz, we have a glimpse of a soul
that knows neither boundaries nor apologies. We see in Musetta the
possibilities that is inherent in life.

-----------------------------------------

His next FAQ was: "How do the dogs do on the boat? How do they relieve
themselves?" But lets not get into that right now. Back to MUSETTA, I must
say that Mr X's answer discouraged me somewhat from choosing an operatic
name. It seems like a huge responsibility - maybe more than I can handle. I
hadn't really thought about the P.R. aspect of it. It now seems obvious that
people will ask me why did you choose, say, MADAME SILBERKLANG, that it
would behoove me to have a long fascinating backstory about that riveting
event. The problem with that is that over time, when a newbie asks THE
question, there will be others present who have already heard the story a
sickening number of times and will surely vomit if they have to hear it
again. Maybe I should just name it AUNT TILLY and move on. But I do find
FIDELIA tempting - so very tempting . . GRIMGERDE too.

ljo, wrestling with the big questions . .

On Jun 29, 9:12 pm, "ljo" <seniorcubrepor....RemoveThis@earthlink.net> wrote:
> I have been restoring an oldish sailboat for some little while and am almost
> finished. It seems proper to give her a nice shiny new name and I have been
> considering opera character names as possibilities. So I was googling around
> to see what other owners had named their boats and I came across the case of
> Mr X who had named his boat MUSETTA. His website had FAQs about his boat and
> his cruising experience. To the question(s) "Why did you name the boat
> "Musetta"? What does it mean?" he answered as follows:
>
> Musetta is of Italian origin, and could possibly mean "little Muse," though
> it also may refer to a musical instrument. However, we chose the name after
> seeing the Puccini opera, LaBoheme. Musetta is the heroine Mimi's best
> friend; she is beautiful, vivacious, and often seen accompanied by an older
> man who lavishes lots of money on her - like a boat, no?
> The most perfect moment in all of music, to me, is when Musetta returns to
> Marcello in the second act of La Boheme. It isn't that I have listened to
> enough opera, or music in general to make a statement like that. However, I
> can speak of Lear as being the most perfect tragedy without having read
> every single tragedies ever written, based on the intuitive perception of
> merit, rather than by comparing it to other tragedies, therefore the same
> with La Boheme.
>
> I am in love with Musetta. When she screams, feigning pain, she screams in
> perfect tone, with impeccable diction. When she first lightly heaves quando
> m'en vo..., when the strings complement her by a wave-like motion, in that
> moment when everything else is silent, Musetta has everyone charmed, she has
> told us that we will sympathize with her wishes and her feelings. The
> soprano, a voice most pure and lyrical, seems like the voice made for her to
> corrupt with her insatiable desires. Then the voice itself seems like the
> thing made for her to express her capacity for love. When she sings, we do
> not hear her, or rather, we do not only hear her, but something in us
> follows her every movement, every notes of the music, every fluctuation in
> her breath, and her every words that we no longer understand because we have
> ceased to read the supertitles.
>
> So Musetta has left Marcello for a better life; she is not responsible. At
> least, watching her, listening to her, singing As I walk through the
> streets, people stop to look at me..., listening to her exult her beauty, we
> are made to understand that she deserved then a better life, and that now
> Marcello has no choice but to accept her return to a wretched life with
> love. Musetta does not have to apologize. Musetta does not live with the
> same guilt and bonds as the other girls. For when she walks through the
> streets, people stop to look at her. For her beauty is supreme, and for
> Puccini gave to her the most beautiful piece of music. She is become a star,
> as did the legendary maiden of the mythical times by Zeus's love for them.
> Shyness is foreign to beautiful Musetta, and she does not beg for anyone's
> love. How wonderful is Musetta, that she does not beg for anyone's love!
> That is why we love her so, for she is the embodiment of the pleasure
> principle. Musetta is what the ancients called Eros.
>
> I do not like Mimi. She is weak and she is dying. Every note she sings reeks
> of impending doom, and her innocence is frightfully prophetic. Mimi's
> reunion with Rodolfo is pathetic, while Musetta's reunion with Marcello is
> sublime. Mimi can tell us over and over how she loves flowers, but until she
> learns to love herself, she will never be quite like Musetta, and she will
> continue to die over and over again at the end of the fourth act, so that
> Rodolfo can cry for her, so that Colline can pawn his coat for her, and so
> that Musetta may buy her a cuff.
>
> Same is with Violetta. Who can admire a woman who will give her and her
> lover's happiness so that some unknown tramp may marry some insignificant
> boy? Violetta is at her best when she is debating with herself whether she
> deserves to be happy or not. Musetta would debate with herself whether
> others deserve to be happy at the same time as her. Any expression of joy
> that escapes from Violetta's tragical lips seems feigned; any possibility of
> triumph in life is weighed down by the tragedy inherent in her incurable and
> ever present disease.
>
> Carmen I like, but she still is not Musetta's equal in radiance. Carmen,
> like Musetta, have a flawlessly falstaffian attitude toward life. Her mezzo
> is dark and resonant and she has quite possibly the two most beautiful mezzo
> arias (on second thought, that isn't possible, for Rossini has lived). But
> Carmen is an idealist. She is not above dying to make a point, and she at
> the end lets poor Don Jose stab her in order to show that her freedom is
> absolute. In that way, Carmen, too, is diseased, although not with
> consumption as is fashionable among sopranos (for she is a mezzo) but with a
> naive idealism. And in addition to all that, she has no recitative.
>
> La Boheme is an ensemble piece, with Rodolfo and Mimi as its hero and
> heroine. But neither Rodolfo nor Mimi, both of which are very fascinating
> and gripping characters, are allowed to dominate the opera, as Musetta, by
> her brief appearances, wrestles the plot from underneath them. The greatest
> crime ever committed by a man in this century maybe by Puccini, Giacosa, and
> Illica, when they would not more fully exploit Musetta's character. However,
> one must first understand that it is an enormous imaginative burden to
> create and sustain a character like Musetta, or Sancho Panza, or Falstaff.
> That is a feat seldom done, and even more seldom repeated. Meanwhile, what
> we have of Musetta is enough to make us love her. In that moment when
> Musetta sing what we now call Musetta's waltz, we have a glimpse of a soul
> that knows neither boundaries nor apologies. We see in Musetta the
> possibilities that is inherent in life.
>
> -----------------------------------------
>
> His next FAQ was: "How do the dogs do on the boat? How do they relieve
> themselves?" But lets not get into that right now. Back to MUSETTA, I must
> say that Mr X's answer discouraged me somewhat from choosing an operatic
> name. It seems like a huge responsibility - maybe more than I can handle. I
> hadn't really thought about the P.R. aspect of it. It now seems obvious that
> people will ask me why did you choose, say, MADAME SILBERKLANG, that it
> would behoove me to have a long fascinating backstory about that riveting
> event. The problem with that is that over time, when a newbie asks THE
> question, there will be others present who have already heard the story a
> sickening number of times and will surely vomit if they have to hear it
> again. Maybe I should just name it AUNT TILLY and move on. But I do find
> FIDELIA tempting - so very tempting . . GRIMGERDE too.
>
> ljo, wrestling with the big questions . .

Perhaps call it Waiting for Isolde
or, Manon, or, who is the woman from Il Tabarro?