Vampires: An Essay Collection

The Vampire: An Intriguing Motif or a Teen Pandering Cash-Grab?

In recent years, the vampire has become synonymous with eroticism and seduction; he has become, "Gentleman Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles." (Rice). The vampire myth, however, predates our modern interpretation of the vampire, having emerged in the Balkans during the 18th century. (Eldridge). The vampire tale- its' fangs sunk into as many countries as people- is a mirror reflecting the sentiments of past eras. Within the past fifty years, the bloodsucker has become a staple of modern literature, cinema, and television. Where once vampires were perceived as legitimate threats to the livelihood of European villages, they have become, in modern times, a global fascination. Vampire-weary moviegoers the world over lament the proliferation of these cash-grab monsters, but the vampire is far more than the simple cinematic fiend so often derided by fatigued audiences. The vampire is a metaphor for the monster in each of us; the rebel, the outcast, the villain, the seducer, the sinner. Mankind identifies with vampires because, like the vampire, we share always in some measure of loneliness. In the vampire's tortured eyes, we see our own lonely plight; it is mankind's fascination with ourselves that makes the bloodsucking demon unequivocally captivating. For that reason, vampires have become a fundamental part of our culture- teen pandering monster movies aside- that is here to stay.

The readiest example of the permanency of the vampire mythos in our modern zeitgeist is: Dracula. Published in 1897, Bram Stoker's Dracula has spawned countless plays, a semi-successful musical, over fifty films, and has become a beloved Halloween staple. Stoker may have written Dracula off with a quick stake through the heart, but we certainly haven't. Where once Dracula was viewed as a one-dimensional monster, he has evolved into an anti-hero for the ages; a fearless protector, charismatic leader, and seductive lover. How Stoker's Victorian monster became so humanized is a dizzying journey across film, page, and stage, but the most logical place to start is with Nosferatu. Nosferatu's rat-fanged Count Orlock is a monster lacking personality or any conceivable motivation beyond bloodlust, he is a mindless, meandering revenant with little to no charm. In 1931, Dracula was depicted not as a monster, but a suave gentlemen dressed in evening finery, more than suited to the heigh echelons of society. He was a monster in deed rather than appearance, a man who was monstrous not in countenance but in appetite. Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) was the next logical step in the modernization of the vampire in film, successfully blending the horror of Nosferatu with the charisma of Dracula (1931).