Welcome to opera world. (Coda).(Column)

Few are born opera-lovers. Most of us achieve opera-love--gradually. We start with the encouragement of a loved one or with one spectacular performance. (Mine was Rossini's L'Assedio di Corinto, of all things, followed by a backstage meeting with the star, Beverly Sills.) From there, we develop the affinity, nurture it, from tiny seed to flamboyant blossom. We follow our own courses, because there are no universally recognized, simple steps to opera-love. There are, how ever, basic principles that can help you get more enjoyment out of opera.

Relax! Don't try to be Opera Man overnight. Stop telling yourself that opera will improve and uplift you; this is like telling a four-year-old to eat her broccoli. Remember that it's not a federal crime to nod off briefly (so long as you don't snore). Bear in mind that few comic operas are funny, though dozens of tragedies are thigh-slappers. Mozart and Handel fans will never admit this, but only the harpsichordist's parents actually enjoy every recitative.

Bite off what you can chew! Why not start with something with a few hit tunes? La Boheme and Carmen are popular for good reason; Lulu is a masterpiece, but to most people, it sounds like an accident in a lawnmower factory. Don't be discouraged if you're not immediately swayed by a given opera.

Be prepared! You wouldn't go to a baseball game without knowing what a home run is. Getting the background on an opera doesn't have to be any more arduous than figuring out baseball: you can do this homework by watching TV. Before you go to the opera, check out performances of that work on CD, videocassette or DVD; don't neglect the libretto. If there's a movie of the source material (e.g., Greta Garbo in Camille prior to a trip to La Traviata), check that out, too. You can drop by your public or university library, where librarians are itching to help you.

Surrender to the cult of personality! Many opera singers are bigger-than-life stars, the natural result of making themselves heard over a full orchestra in a space like an overgrown missile silo. And music can transform the least prepossessing nobody into the most heroic, sexy creature you ever saw. Star-power can work for you, too. Latch onto a singer and let her guide you through her corner of the repertory.

You don't have to be rich to get in! The pompous opera patron played by Margaret Dumont (A Night at the Opera, 1935) is not your role model. ...