BOOK REVIEWS

Leonard G. Heldreth and Mary Pharr (eds), The Blood is the Life : Vampires in Literature. Bowling
Green, OH: Bowling Green State U Popular P, 1999.
ISBN 0879728043, 275 p., paperback.

This collection of essays is divided into four parts with an extensive bibliography of vampire fiction and
criticism at the end. A conscious decision was made to exclude films because it would have overwhelmed
the discussion of literary texts and also probably, I suspect, because there are already a number of
scholarly works devoted exclusively to vampire cinema. This collection’s great strength is that it offers
detailed discussion and examination beyond the more usual studies of nineteenth- century vampire
literature: the bulk of it concerns late twentieth-century works.
The first section is entitled “The Vampire and the Literary Traditions.” It looks at the nineteenth
century when the vampire made its literary debut and so many ‘traditions’ were established, traditions
which later authors either had to work with or work against but seldom could ignore. J.P. Telotte examines
Polidori’s “The Vampyre” in the light of the late Romantic concept of the participative life, that is living
‘in’ the world with all senses open and receptive as opposed to being detached and viewing people as
puppets for one’s amusement. Ruthven falls into the latter type while Ianthe is in the former with Aubrey
drifting between the two. This reflects the concern of the age with idols, of running after images rather
than living one’s own life. In that, it seems, the early nineteenth century wasn’t too different from the late
twentieth.
Robert F. Geary shows how the eighteenth-century Gothic tales failed to integrate their supernatural
elements and why the Victorians were so successful in re-inventing the genre to reflect their fear that the
irrational could so easily break through to the rational, science based world. Jean Lorrah discusses how
the novel Dracula is a testament to the New Woman, rejecting claims for the title for Lucy and the three
vampire ladies, and showing how Mina fits the category. The section concludes with a study, by Zacharias
P. Thundy, of the various forms of the Indian vampire.
The second part,“The Vampire and the Modern World,” shows how late twentieth-century authors
have taken the vampire and its literary tradition and altered it or reworked or expanded elements of it
overlooked earlier. Martin J. Wood and Lloyd Worley each discuss Anne Rice’s “Vampire Chronicles,”
showing how her vampires differ from previous representations in literature. Mary Pharr examines the
treatment by King, Matheson and Streiber of the vampire’s voracious appetite and what it might be like to
be permanently hungry. Joe Sanders discusses Saberhagen’s reworking of the character Dracula,
observing that having created a complex and fascinating character in The Dracula Tape, he has not always
used him to advantage in the succeeding novels. Leonard Heldreth shows how Somtow’s Timmy
Valentine, lacking his own reflection, is a reflection of the desires and fantasies of others, and examines
the series’ themes of the question of identity, especially narcissism, and the doppelganger.
In the third part, “The Vampire and Alternate History” the essays look at the science fiction vampire,
or alternate histories. Sharon Russell and Sandra Ford Swift separately examines the vampire as savior in
the form of Chelsea Quinn Yarbro’s Saint-Germain series. Russell shows how Saint Germain is not, like
Dracula, a threat to society from within but is instead a force for good without whom society would not
be strong enough to defeat (human) evil. Swift compares Saint-Germain with the non-vampiric immortal
who helps humanity often at the cost of his own life, typified by Bulwer-Lytton’s Zanoni. Margaret L.
Carter looks at the vampire as non-human in Fevre Dream and no-longer human in Empire of Fear and
the need for humans and vampires to live in symbiosis.
Elizabeth Hardaway studies how Kim Newman, in Anno Dracula and The Bloody Red Baron,
foregrounds the subtext of the Stoker novel (England conquered by the Other, women’s sexuality etc.).
Michael R. Collins discusses the vampire in the works of Colin Wilson and shows that the encounters
with the alien ‘vampires’ lead humanity forwards to a higher order of being.
The fourth part, “The Vampire and Gender/Sexuality,” deals with the sexuality that underpins much
of the vampire literary tradition. Carol A. Senf looks at the evolution of the female vampire against the
three things to be most feared in women -- rebellion, overt sexuality and bloodsucking -- and a secondary
consideration of loss of identity (no reflection). Senf also attempts to chart and explain the periods of
fluctuating popularity of the female vampire. Bernadette Lynn Bosky examines the works of Poppy Z.
Brite whose vampires are both dead and vital, and then considers the sub-genre of vampire erotic stories
in which the fantasy of the vampire’s power and ability to do harm is overcome by love or lust. Lillian
Marks Heldreth discusses Tanith Lee’s vampire stories, showing that her vampires are complex and
different (not all are human, none is immortal) and that they are aware of their situation. Donald Pharr
provides a not uncritical overview of Nancy Collins’s Sonja Blue series noting their unevenness as well as
their possibilities, not sustained in the fourth book.
I would recommend highly this collection of essays for two reasons. The first is the detailed
discussion and analysis of such authors as Saberhagen, Yarbro, Collins and Brite who are not often
considered in most collections of vampire literary criticism. The other is for the lucid styles of all the
contributors and the clarity with which they convey their thoughts, proving it possible to have something
interesting to say without smothering it in post-modern academic jargon.

Nikki White

Tony Thorne, Children of the Night: of Vampires and Vampirism.

This is not your usual survey of vampires in folklore and history with a brief look at films and literature.
The author is not satisfied with trotting out the same old lists of different vampires and their attributes, or
to rehearse the stories of Paole and others of the vampire scares yet again. He wants to find out the
origins, to look further and actually examine the original source material (he reads several East European
languages), and thus question some long-held assumptions.
Thorne begins with the absence of a continuous vampire tradition in England, then surveys the
elements that have gone to make up the modern vampire image. More interesting is the second chapter
which is an examination of the female vampire, tracing her back to Assyria and Sumer. There is a detailed
discussion of the origins and development of the Lilith mythology which takes us from Gilgamesh to
modern internet sites devoted to her as a kind of empowering feminist goddess. Also examined in this
chapter is the Elizabeth Bathory legend. Thorne has written a book on her using much recently discovered
material and is quick to dismiss any Dracula connections but does note that many groups have
reinterpreted her for their own ends. From there he points out the early vampire in literature was a female,
a femme fatale, but concludes that recent portrayals are stereotyped and one-dimensional.
The third chapter investigates the origin of the vampire as possibly arising from shamanism and the
dualism of old Slavonic cultures. The breakdown of orthodox Christianity in the modern world is possibly
one reason for the revival of a similar kind of dualism and the interest in the ‘Real Vampire.’ These
arguments are supported by detailed examination of the etymology of the word ‘vampire’ and related
terms. Thorne traces the development of the vampire especially as seen through various vampire panics of
the Middle Ages and the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the following chapter he studies the
reasons behind these panics by looking at Istria (northern Croatia), Carniola and Styria (modern
Slovenia). He notes the social functions of the vampire folklore there (to reinforce social values) and
highlights the shamanistic traditions behind much of it, as well a presenting new information on the
panics in this part of the world.
The fifth chapter looks at vampire panics in the Americas including the recent chupacabras scare, the
way these were handled and the possible reasons behind them. (A useful adjunct to this chapter is Alan
Murdie’s paper, “Satanic Murders in Colombia” presented at the 2nd World Dracula Congress, Romania,
May 2000).
 The sixth chapter is not recommended reading if you are at lunch, as it discusses the physiological
changes in a decaying body and how these give the appearance of life. The imperfect understanding of
these processes in the past, rather than burial alive, he sees as the main explanation of the vampire belief.
He also adduces (somewhat less convincingly to me) the use of narcotic substances, ingested by accident
or deliberately, as a likely cause of people’s belief they were being attacked by a vampire. How people
come to see what they want to see, or at least expect to see in these situations, is shown by his comparison
with stories of UFO abductions and the physical appearances of the aliens which resemble those in old
science fiction films.
The following chapter, on vampire criminals, eschews the usual suspects like Sgt Bertrand for those
whose prime motive was to draw blood so Fritz Haarmann, Peter Kurten, John Haigh as well as some
others are described. Many of Thorne’s cases are from the 1990s and are tied in with some vampire cult.
In chapters eight and nine, those who profess to be vampires are considered. Thorne traces the
movement from the Goths, and how it split into Vampyres (generally like films, books, role-playing
games and dressing up) and Vampires (‘real’ vampires who take blood from willing partners or
themselves). A number of the latter are interviewed. These people come from Canada, Britain, the USA
and Australia and are self-aware, extremely articulate and well read, showing a disdain for RPGers and a
horrified distancing from blood cultists and fetishists, considering them a menace.
The final chapter is a brief survey of vampire literature and films. Thorne is not impressed with most
vampire films, has no time for the Hollywood product and only slightly more for Hammer. His favorites
have European sensibilities and include both versions of Nosferatu. He does look at Philippine films
which have attempted to incorporate local traditions in their films but concludes the vampire image is
largely Hollywood and rather tired at that. He is similarly not impressed with Anne Rice, either on paper
or on celluloid (his comments on the Interview With the Vampire film are cruelly funny). Also coming
under his guns are some of the claims or assumptions made by literary criticism of Stoker.
As stated earlier, one of the chief points of appeal of the book is that it manages to find new nuggets
in well turned soil. Research in obscure texts (and translations of same); asking the next question and not
merely accepting and repeating the same old bromides; going to places not usually considered by other
similar works; thinking about connections and possible explanations rather than simply regaling us with
vampire tales -- all of these make this an interesting and enjoyable work, even if you may not agree with
all of his conclusions.

Nikki White

Kurt W. Treptow, Vlad III Dracula: The Life and Times of the Historical Dracula.
Iasi: The Center for Romanian Studies, 2000. Distr by International Specialized Book Services.
ISBN 9739839223. 256p/hc $39.95

Why another biography of Vlad the Impaler? We already have two from Radu Florescu and Raymond
McNally -- Dracula: A Biography of Vlad the Impaler (1973) and Dracula: Prince of Many Faces (1989)
-- as well as Dracula: Essays on the Life and Times of Vlad Tepes (1991), edited by Treptow, and (for
those able to find it) Nicolae Stoicescu’s influential Vlad Tepes : Prince of Walachia (1978). Considering
that Vlad, for all the hype surrounding him, was in the larger scheme of things a minor figure, is there
room for another tome about his life and times?
My answer, having read Treptow’s latest effort, is a resounding yes. Though Florescu and McNally
must be credited for generating an interest in Vlad throughout the Western world, their books are marred
by their misconceived assumption that Vlad was the inspiration for the title character in Bram Stoker’s
Dracula (1897). As for Stoicescu, his agenda is blatantly obvious: he is determined to ‘rescue’ the heroic
prince, who had by the 1970s been resurrected by the Communist government as an icon of national
identity and pride, from that nasty vampire ‘connection.’ What has been lacking is a biography that
manages to steer away from these myths.
Kurt Treptow is certainly well qualified to take on this task. While the collection of essays that he
edited in 1992 is useful, it is somewhat piecemeal and leaves many gaps that cry to be filled. This new
book goes a long way to doing just that. It is mercifully free of the nationalistic ranting that fills the pages
of Stoicescu. And he manages to avoid the Florescu/McNally linking of Vlad with Stoker’s novel. (Well,
almost! He mentions it a few times in passing, but it never becomes a central theme in the book.)
What this book does offer is as balanced and objective an examination of Vlad’s political and military
life as is possible, given not only the distance of time but the problem of bias in much of the source
material. By wading through the documents carefully, Treptow undermines much of the mythology of
Vlad, presenting a ruler who was neither the degenerate tyrant of the German pamphlets nor the selfless
hero dedicated solely to saving his nation. Most useful are the findings concerning Vlad’s relationship
with his boyars (nobles) and what really happened during and after the military campaign of 1462.
Treptow challenges those historians who, “guided by misplaced nationalist sentiments” have ignored
the evidence of primary documents in order to portray Vlad as a martyr. For example, he targets the
widely held view that Vlad, having routed the Turks in battle in 1462, was ousted solely as a result of the
treachery of his boyars. Calling this a “classic example of molding the facts to fit Marxist-Leninist
dogma,” Treptow takes the reader through the events of 1461-62 step by step, arguing convincingly that
while they did suffer setbacks, the Turks were not defeated by Vlad and that Vlad’s boyars did not present
a united front against him.
Supplementary material includes the text of several of Vlad’s letters (including the famous ones he
signed as “Dracula”), extensive excerpts from Ottoman Chronicles, especially dealing with events of
1461-62, and some of the oft-reprinted German stories that have contributed so much to Vlad’s notoriety
in the West. Rounding out this lucid text (which proves that history does not have to be boring) is a
comprehensive bibliography and some illuminating original illustrations by Octavian Ion Penda.
This book does not answer all the questions about Vlad Dracula. We still know little about his
personal life (due to the absence of documentation), there are conflicting accounts of how and by whom
he was killed, and the exact location of his remains is still in doubt. The journey is not yet over; but Kurt
Treptow’s book is a major milestone along the way.

Elizabeth Miller

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Editor’s Note:
A symposium devoted to papers dealing with Vlad Dracula, sponsored by the Transylvanian Society of
Dracula (Romania), will be held in Sighisoara in May 2001. To submit a proposal for a paper, or to
acquire general information about attendance, contact Nicolae Paduraru at [cdt@art.ro] or write him at
47 Primaverii Blvd, Bucharest, Romania.