Vampire literature has long been a genre dominated by sparkling anti-heroes with tortured pasts and stereotypically weepy women caught in love triangles. From Dracula to Twilight, and every rehash in between, the message was loud and clear: Men are heroes; women are swooning sweethearts. Or so it was until an inconspicuous children's book tiptoed quietly and unassumingly onto the scene in 2008 and turned the genre on its' head.
My first exposure to vampires came not through the Twilight craze of the early 2000's, but through a children's book series titled Vampirates. As one of six children, my dad made it a goal to keep us occupied and out of trouble during the long sweltering months of summer break. His solution: reading.
I can't count the number of hours I spent curled in an overstuffed armchair in the corner of my local library pouring over "kid books" as my dad took a much-needed nap in the airconditioned great indoors. I'm sure if I did count the hours, I would find most of my childhood was spent with my nose buried in a book. Which, I've learned, was not a bad way to spend the wild years of my youth.
I had just finished reading A Series of Unfortunate Events followed up by a gaggle of nameless mermaid books, when I stumbled across the first novel in the Vampirates series. I was beginning to realize I rather liked stories centered on misfits and outcasts, and in particular stories with strong female protagonists. It was the title that drew my attention, but it was the cover that stole my breath.
I was no stranger to pirate books. My dad raised my sisters and I on Edward and the Pirates, How I Became a Pirate, and Henry and the Buccaneer Bunnies. He was reading us bedtime stories of swashbuckling adventure before we were old enough to tie our shoes and he kept reading us tales of treachery on the high seas long after we gave up laces for trendy velcro. But none of those books, as thrilling as they were, featured female pirates. None except The Ballad of the Pirate Queens. I'd be lying if I said I didn't love The Ballad of the Pirate Queens. The pictures and shanty-like rhymes never failed to wow me. But I couldn't shake the feeling Anne Bonney and Mary Read were victims of a rotten deal. Afterall, Jack Rackham may have hung for his crimes, but Anne and Mary were forced to give up their hard-won independence for a box stuffed full of perfumed practicality. So, you can imagine, when I saw the cover of Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean, eight-year-old me was downright amazed. Who was that fearless dark-haired woman, fighting choppy waters to drag a drowning boy from the sea? What was her story?
I opened Demons of the Ocean in search of a pleasant pirate tale and a dash of vampire angst, but what I found was a story that stuck with me for a lifetime. I was drawn in by Cheng Li's sharp tongue, Grace Tempest's stubborn spunk, Darcy Flotsam's gentle heart, and Cutlass Cate's expert swordsmanship. I was accustomed to female characters being smart, or ditzy, or on occasion both. Violet Baudelaire, Hermione Granger, the zany Clementine or gutsy Junie B Jones, these were the female role models I knew and loved. But the women of Vampirates were something completely different. Back then, I lacked the ability to put into words what made them so special to me. I liked their style. I loved their voices. And for a child, those simple reasons were enough to keep me invested in their adventures, but it wasn't until I stumbled upon a 2021 blog post, that I found the answer. When asked about his writing process, author Justin Somper said, "I wanted strong female protagonists on both sides of my story, standing shoulder to shoulder- actually, preferably, ahead- of their male counterparts." It was such a simple answer. Surely every author writing tales of adventure and magic in the early aughts had done the same. Right? But when I thought back on the touchstone novels of my youth, Vampirates was one of only a handful where the women were more vital to the story than the men.
In Vampirates, the women were far from the cardboard cutouts and pretty faces and wisdom spouting sidekicks I was used to. They were plot-drivers and decision makers and leaders. It was the women who propelled the story forward, not the men. It was Lady Lola Lockwood who fashioned the Empire of Night from an evil whim and a burgeoning winery venture. It was Ma Kettle who made a business of men's thirst. It was Lilithe who lined her pockets with the coins of hungry vampires. And it was Cheng Li who paved the way for young girls to dream of being captains.
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Vampires: An Essay Collection
VampireIn 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 vampiric myth, however, dates at least as far back as Mesopotamia, with our...