Meg Giry

Meg Giry is one of the fictional characters from Gaston Leroux's novel The Phantom of the Opera. In the story she is Madame Giry's oldest daughter.

In the novel she is described as having “eyes black as sloes, hair black as ink, a swarthy complexion and a poor little skin stretched over poor little bones. She is also, in the novel, portrayed as a child of around fifteen years old and adores having her own way and attention. Due to her mother's role as the keeper of Box Five, Meg occasionally acts as a source of information about the ghost to the other ballet girls. She is described by the author in the prologue as "the most charming star of our admirable corps de ballet."

In the Andrew Lloyd Webber adaptation, she is older and her personality is much sweeter, caring and innocent showing genuine concern for Christine's claim of an Angel of Music coaching her. Meg is much more beautiful and curvaceous, having blonde hair and blue eyes.

Madame Giry is compelled to work for the Phantom because he left her a letter that told her that Meg (should she deserve it) would become Empress. Early in the novel, it is explained in the Prologue that Meg Giry, after the story's events, had indeed become the Baroness de Barbazac.

In contrast to the musical version, in the novel it is never mentioned that she is friends with Christine Daaé and the only reference she makes about Christine is when confronted with the news that Christine was singing in the opening Gala, she tells Count Phillipe de Chagny that it was impossible for her to have a "divine voice" let alone become a success, that "six months ago she sang like a rusty hinge".

In Susan Kay's novel Phantom she is mentioned briefly through Erik’s point of view as she is telling Christine of the Opera Ghost he listens to her story.

“Never you mind how I know I just do that’s all. We know a lot about the Opera Ghost, Ma and I, but it isn’t safe to talk about it here. And you’d better believe me for your own good- he doesn’t like people who don’t know how to show a proper respect, and when he’s angry terrible things happen.” “What sort of things?” I heard real alarm enter the other voice now. “Awful things!” said Meg cheerfully, “truly awful. The floor in our dressing room starts to run with blood...” Up in box five I blinked in surprised amusement. That was a new one! Little Giry should be writing Gothic novels, not prancing around the stage dressed as a water nymph!