Dracula

I started this novel with some curiosity but not much enthusiasm, so I was ready to nitpick. Our hero is sitting down to tea with Dracula himself and doesn't have a clue, despite observing one oddity about his host after another. I wanted to shake him and yell, "it's the world's nastiest vampire, you idiot! Get the blinders off!" Then, revelation: he doesn't recognize Dracula because for him, there's no such person. This is Dracula being invented, right here in this book.

I ought to have known the reason Dracula is a household name is first and foremost because the original novel is so good. All of it is written as letters and diary entries, news clippings, etc. all meshing wonderfully. Nor is it nearly so straightforward a plot as I show more expected. Who is Renfield, the asylum inmate, and what's his role in the story? Why should I care that some completely incidental lady has three suitors who all propose to her? Ah - wait and see!

When I read Frankenstein I felt sympathy for the poor monster. Dracula is not a character to inspire pathos. He does such a good snarling face that you'll probably live with the nightmare vision for the rest of your life. He has more freaky powers at his disposal than I have space to list in this review. And he is not above taunting you after costing you the love of your life.

I care nothing for Hugh Jackman's Van Helsing, but I love the Van Helsing of this novel. I love his careful building up to revealing what he knows, leading to the big pronouncement: vampires exist! How many characters in how many novels could take lessons from this guy? He could teach "How to convince people to believe in the supernatural without instead convincing them you're insane". It does take him a long time to set up his case, but seeing how he pulls it all together is what makes it great. Afterwards he's an equally steady hand at keeping others' minds on an even keel when madness comes knocking at the door.

The finale fell a bit flat, anticlimactic by today's standards, but this novel is about the journey far more than its conclusion. I received a lot more journey than I'd bargained for. show less

Reread on audio. The best part is the first section, when Jonathan Harker is in Dracula's castle. The horror imagery is fantastic: Dracula climbing head-first down the sheer side of his castle; the three women gathered around the sack that contains a child; the wolves howling. Stoker maybe should have stopped here, because after Dracula moves to London, the novel really bogs down. The prose acquires a decidedly purplish tint, and Van Helsing is oftentimes nothing less than ridiculous. The genteel Victorian sexism starts to grate, and really, it is just too long to wait before the final hunt, which feels a little anticlimactic after all the build-up.

I'm still rating this 5* because Dracula is a book that spawned a thousand imitators and show more really helped create modern horror. It is worthwhile going back and reading these novels that spawned the tropes, even with their now-apparent flaws.

I listened to an ensemble cast version with Tim Curry as Van Helsing, which was nicely done. Curry didn't have a big enough part. He was the only reader who didn't make Van Helsing's accent sound ridiculous. show less

Another of those classics in which the cultural footprint is far greater than the objective quality. Dracula is one of those stories that everyone is familiar with, and it can be quite uncanny to read Bram Stoker's book when you already know its touchpoints. However, in the most lamentable of Victorian traditions, Stoker buries his plot in a mass of words, and regularly lapses into melodrama. The epistolary approach is interesting for a while, but characters profess the "need of putting down at present everything, however trivial" (pg. 251), and more than once you rather wish they had not felt this need. Hyperbolic passages like the following – from Mina's diary – are frequent:

"Courage, Mina! the Professor is looking at you keenly; show more his look is a warning. There must be no tears now – unless it may be that God will let them fall in gladness." (pg. 379)

Even after this great mass of words, the ending of the novel peters out unforgivably. Character development is almost nil: the women are demure damsels-in-distress, the men are all bluff, dorky gentlemen willing to lay down their lives for said women, and the Count himself disappears for most of the novel, doing little if anything to counteract his opponents' schemes in the final act.

In light of everything above, it may seem strange that the book can actually be interesting to read for the most part. That it is so is almost entirely down to Stoker's success in realising a truly Gothic aesthetic. The reader has to self-edit much of the prose, and come to terms with allowing their eyes to glaze over some passages, but once in this frame of mind the "shadow of dread" (pg. 269) clings authentically. This is a book one feels obliged to read in the dead of night. show less

Beneath Dracula's ghastly pale skin; beyond the iconic blood lust and delectable gothic horror, lies a far more delicious subtext that ultimately drove a big fat stake through late Victorian ideals as Bram Stoker successfully stalked and skewered that culture's hypocritical heart regarding women. Men could be sexual scoundrels and yet honored (some things never change), while women who violated just the slightest sexual more (were merely perceived as being "flirtatious" -- oh the impropriety!) found themselves branded whores and ostracized.

What better way could Stoker have commented on just how much that double standard sucked than with vampires: creatures emblematic of not just the demonic but divine, holy devils heralding the end of show more a repressive and dying Victorian culture that sucked the life and enjoyment out of almost everything, and yet who paradoxically also symbolized a supercharged eternal equality and its attendant sexual liberty for women that made them as powerful as men in deciding their own destinies?

That's what Dracula means to me when we venture into its deathly and yet life-affirming flesh through the double puncture wounds about its neck -- liberation and equality -- and why that damnable Twilight tripe whose egregious ethos (I won't call it a "philosophy" a la Stoker's and thus demean that noble term) so peeves me and sucks in ways that have absolutely no redeeming qualities for women or sensuality; but are, in fact, deserving of our deepest disdain even if only for their unwitting portrayal of young women still shackled by outdated and inappropriate Victorian chains, depicted as nevertheless enjoying their dungeon. show less

This is the original. All other novels about or media portrayals of The Count are sad imitations once you’ve read Bram Stoker’s work. I was surprised by the depth of the story and by how much detail and richness has been lost in the retelling of the tale.

Dracula is an epistolary novel written as a series of journal or diary entries, telegrams and memorandums. The real-life actions of the characters in writing and compiling the dialogue and plot of the story add a greater sense of realism and believability. What strikes the reader most about this original version of the Dracula tale is that it’s not really a “horror” novel but is instead pure suspense. The author does an excellent job of continually building towards a show more turning-point only to mislead the reader and restart the building of the suspense. This redirection happens on numerous occasions and the plot doesn’t hit its final high point until the last few paragraphs. The essence of the book was summed up well by Stoker in one phrase late in the book, “We waited in suspense that made the seconds pass with nightmare slowness.”

Some of the cliches associated with the Dracula myth did come from the original work; the Count’s physical description to include pointy ears, bushy eyebrows and pointy teeth for example. Also, his inability to cast a reflexion and disliking of crucifixes and garlic play important roles in the book. One of the classic characteristics, his inability to withstand daylight, was a bit troublesome however. Through most of the book, the author makes an effort to point out that the Count is never around during the day. However, during one chase, the author notes that “it was now late in the afternoon and sunset was not far off.” I’m not sure if this was a plot misstep or was intentional.

I really enjoyed finally connecting with the root of some of my favorite tales. The characters, especially Renfield and Dr. Van Helsing, were more detailed and involved than I had ever imagined. Even if you don’t enjoy the horror or suspense genres, this is simply a well written piece of fiction that can be appreciated by anyone. show less

Dracula really was an intriguing story. I am ashamed to admit: I am a horror buff and vampire lover, and yet somehow I had not yet read this book! I had seen Dracula movies, seen Nosferatu, read plenty of modern stories about vampires, but I had never read the real classic, the Gothic tale, the novel that truly popularized the vampire! Something that clearly needed to be remedied!

So, I went into the novel knowing nothing about it. I was actually a little worried before I started that the writing might be dry or otherwise difficult to get through; however, I was very pleasantly surprised by the style. I'd had no idea it was written in the form of journals of the participants; various characters documented (insofar as fictional show more documentation goes), each in their own manner and style, everything that happened at various places and points in time throughout the book. These journals & records themselves become a bit of a key point as things progress. It initially threw me a little bit, I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I quickly got into the style and found it a rather interesting way to tell a story. I didn’t know what to expect of the characters or the plot when I picked it up (seeing as how movies distort their origins so much), but I found myself eager to discover what would become of it all, where the turns would take them, and how it would be wrapped up.

Lest anyone think it has no fault- there is the glaring issue that it was written in an age when women were very much second class, "belonging in the kitchen" and such, and it shows, a lot. The women in the tale are essentially looked at as being helpless, and it’s considered an extraordinary feat highly commended (and astonished at) when they do something beyond mediocre housewifery. Coming up with a good plan, doing anything to outwit, etc, it leaves all the men with dropped jaws cooing over how extraordinary that was! If the men had just considered the women as regular people, a lot of the troubles throughout the book would never have even come about! But again, this was due to the time period, not a particular bias of Stoker's. However, then we have Van Helsing. Who, while a reasonably likable character, is practically the end-all be-all of everything; he is the ultimate resource, he can speak multiple languages, he knows what to do in any situation, he has books and people he can check with for any bit of knowledge not already stuffed in his head, he has unending knowledge of (and utter lack of surprise regarding) the supernatural, etc, frankly, he’s just a liiiiiittle bit over the top. Also, I think it was a little annoying to go into it already knowing Dracula is a vampire, rather than having that be a mystery – it spoils some of the fun. Of course, more than a hundred years later, some things simply can’t be avoided. ;)

Overall, I was very happy with this book and found it completely worthy of its classic status and spawning of the now-massive vampire sub-genre. Definitely recommended for all horror fans! show less

Dracula is one of those books that has become so ingrained in our culture that the original work almost feels alien. The antagonist has inspired characters featured on cereal boxes and in children's television shows, where he either represents chocolaty goodness or counts a lot. I find it interesting that a character originally intended to symbolize malevolent evil has become such an icon of sorts. Even if the imagery mostly comes from the 1930's movie adaptation.

Equally fascinating is how the book itself, originally criticized as low brow fiction, rode upon alleged wings of shock value and managed to survive the test of time. It's no wonder so many generations of readers have been enthralled by this piece of work. Though it is not show more lacking in depth, at its core Stoker has really fleshed out a cast of memorable characters, and that so often seems to be a determining factor in the timelessness of a novel. They unquestionably make up for the thinly-veiled plot devices and Van Helsing's obnoxiously long-winded speeches.

Stoker does come off as a bit of a misogynist at times, but if you pay attention to how Mina is treated and the resulting consequences he seems to be hinting at exactly the opposite. I liken him to a man today who argues for equal rights for both genders, but insists on paying for meals when he dates a woman. In the future that will most likely appear misogynistic with negative connotations, but I doubt many women are too fussy about that now, and I myself probably fit that description. Well, that is to say, if I weren't a poor broke bastard and could talk to ladyfolk without panicking, blabbing incoherently, or running away screaming in a fit terror-stricken dismay.

Nevertheless, there is a lot going on beneath the surface here, and to bluntly disregard the dynamics of the characters and their relationship is doing the novel a great disservice. I now wonder, considering how poorly this book was received by critics during its original release, how many authors today suffer the same prejudice at the hands of those who prefer their books to be strictly of the literary variety. Really, what does a book that forces its 'literary greatness' on the reader do other than display its author's utter lack of creativity? To say something important and to do it in a way that is still exciting to read takes considerable talent, and it shames me that so many 'literary snobs' continue to make the same mistakes their predecessors have done for centuries. While I love me a good tromp into the worlds of literature, if there is a lesson to be learned it is that the pace or popularity should not be an immediate reason for condemnation. And that you can tell if someone is unspeakably evil by throwing wafers at them. show less