One for the Dracula Scholars

I've heard rumblings about plans for an 'event' to commemorate the centennial passing of Bram Stoker at 'Hull University', so I decided to do some sleuthing to find out what was going on.

And by 'sleuthing', I of course mean 'Google searching'. Turns out the University of Hull is gonna be holding 'a three-day international conference'. The event's called Bram Stoker and Gothic Transformations. It'll be hosted at the Hull Campus of the University and in Whitby in April 2012. Has that whet your whistle? Then let's delve a little further. Here's its theme:

The conference is interested in the iconic significance of Stoker’s vampire novel and seeks to reappraise Stoker’s work within its fin-de-siècle cultural climate. It is also interested in exploring the broader context of the changing nature of Gothic productions from the late eighteenth century to the present. Using Dracula as a key point in the evolution of the genre, it seeks to explore the novel’s Gothic predecessors and influences, and the manner in which Stoker’s work renewed the Gothic for future generations.

They're accepting papers, if you wanna take part. Send an abstract of 250-300 words for a 20 minute paper to Dr Catherine Wynne (her e-mail addy's on the site). You've got till 1 May 2011 to submit. There are 20 topics on the site to choose from, but they appear to be flexible on this, so long as it caters to the conference's theme. Have fun!

Did Stoker Plan on Bringing Drac Back?

Speaking of sequels, have you heard rumours that Bram Stoker originally intended on writing a sequel to Dracula (1897)? Let's take a look.

Sure, there's been heaps of movie sequels to adaptations of his work, like Dracula's Daughter (1936) and The Brides of Dracula (1960). A few authors have even cranked out their own: Freda Warrington's Dracula, the Undead (1997), Seán Manchester's Carmel: A Vampire Tale (2000) and Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt's Stoker estate-approved sequel spring to mind.

But what about Bram, himself? Did he ever write one? Did he plan to? Elizabeth Miller has the scoop, yet fails to mention a crucial scene in the novel (at least, in the entry itself).¹ As she points out, Dracula isn't destroyed in the proscribed manner recommended by Van Helsing during the course of the novel, i.e. stake through the heart, decapitation. Instead, he is "killed" when (spoiler alert!) Jonathan Harker shears his kukri knife through the Count's throat, while mortally-wounded Quincey Morris plunges his Bowie knife into the vampire's heart. Here's what happens next, as described by Mina:

It was like a miracle, but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight.

I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there.

The Castle of Dracula now stood out against the red sky, and every stone of its broken battlements was articulated against the light of the setting sun.

Wait, maybe the Count tricked them! He turned to dust at just the right moment! It's one of his powers, after all. Except for one thing: up to that point, Mina's forehead had been marked by the imprint of a Eucharistic Wafer, after being bitten by the Count. Here's how it went down:

"Then it is well. Now, Madam Mina, you are in any case quite safe here until the sunset. And before then we shall return . . . if . . . We shall return! But before we go let me see you armed against personal attack.I have myself,since you came down,prepared your chamber by the placing of things of which we know, so that He may not enter. Now let me guard yourself.On your forehead I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father, the Son, and . . .

There was a fearful scream which almost froze our hearts to hear. As he had placed the Wafer on Mina's forehead, it had seared it . . . had burned into the flesh as though it had been a piece of whitehot metal. My poor darling's brain had told her the significance of the fact as quickly as her nerves received the pain of it,and the two so overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature had its voice in that dreadful scream.

The mark signifies her vampiric infection and "connection" to Dracula, as it's established that the the vampires in Stoker's universe cannot tolerate holy objects. Dracula is warded off with crucifixes. His "brides" are kept at bay with a "Holy Circle" (made from crumbled Eucharistic Wafers). It also imprisons the infected Mina, or, as Van Helsing says: "For I knew that we were safe within the ring, which she could not leave no more than they could enter." Yet, here's what happens after Dracula's disintegration:

I flew to him [Morris -ed.], for the Holy circle did not now keep me back, so did the two doctors. Jonathan knelt behind him and the wounded man laid back his head on his shoulder. With a sigh he took, with a feeble effort, my hand in that of his own which was unstained.

He must have seen the anguish of my heart in my face, for he smiled at me and said, "I am only too happy to have been of service! Oh, God!" he cried suddenly, struggling to a sitting posture and pointing to me. "It was worth for this to die! Look! Look!"

The sun was now right down upon the mountain top, and the red gleams fell upon my face, so that it was bathed in rosy light. With one impulse the men sank on their knees and a deep and earnest "Amen" broke from all as their eyes followed the pointing of his finger.

The dying man spoke, "Now God be thanked that all has not been in vain! See! The snow is not more stainless than her forehead! The curse has passed away!"

If Dracula didn't "die", then how on earth did that happen? The disappearance of the mark clearly indicates she's free from the vampiric taint. Also, what many seem to forget, is that Stoker's novel concludes with an epilogue set seven years afterwards. No further signs of vampirism and Dracula's castle is nothing more than an uninhabited wreck. In other words, he's dead.

But Dracula's a vampire. Undead. Gotta be a way around that, right? Maybe bring him back to life or something. Sure, that's possible. It's fiction, after all. But where's the signs that Stoker intended on doing so? That's the whole point. He makes it pretty clear that Dracula's karked it. Holmwood and Seward are happily married (not to each other). The Harkers have a son. Van Helsing seems jovial. That doesn't scream "set up" so much as "happy ending".

If Stoker did intend on writing a sequel, we have no proof of it (textual or otherwise), apart from hearsay and speculation. A shame, really, as it would've been great to see how the story continues. I guess that's left to our own imagination.

¹ To be fair, she dealt with this scene in the comments section.

Should've Been the Count

Speaking of hypotheticals and casting choices, here's one that's gripped me for a few years.

Many actors have played Count Dracula over the years, the best-known being Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee and, to a lesser extent, Gary Oldman.

But there's one actor who I feel would've been perfect for the role, even though, to my knowledge, he'd never even been in a horror film. I'm talkin' 'bout this guy:

Lee Van Cleef in a publicity shot for Escape from New York (1981).

That's right, Lee Van Cleef (1925-1989). You probably know him best as Sentenza/Angel Eyes (aka "The Bad") in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966). He featured in a variety of other Westerns and action flicks. Point is, take a look at his mug and let's compare it to Jonathan Harker's description of the Count in Stoker's Dracula (1897):

His face was a strong, a very strong, aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils, with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth. These protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed. The chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Physical appearance aside, did I mention that he was also best-known for playing villains? A shame he never really broke that Western/action flick mould. I think he would've been a superb Dracula.

Here's a scene from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly to prove a point. It's the bit where Angel Eyes pays a visit to a former solider to question him about the location of a missing man and a cache of stolen Confederate gold.

You'll get an idea of why Van Cleef was typecast and also see the kind of menace he could convey in his performances. Perfect for a reptilian vampire Count.

A World Without Dracula?

Theresa answers a reader's compelling question on her blog: "Without Bram Stoker’s 'Dracula' do you think the vampire would be as popular today?"

Let's put this in perspective. At the time Stoker wrote his book, vampires made sporadic appearances in fictional literature. The vampiremania and theatrical adaptations that followed in the wake of John Polidori's "The Vampyre" (1819) were long-gone.

Sure, Varney the Vampire (1845-1847) was a reasonably successful penny dreadful. But, to my knowledge, it didn't exactly have global distribution. It was reprinted in 1853 and wouldn't see republication again till 1970 and 1972.

How about J. Sheridan Le Fanu's "Carmilla" (1872)? Even though it's been reproduced in numerous anthologies, it didn't exactly have a huge impact at the time. That'd come much later.

Between then and 1897, I dare you to name any other vampire novels or stories, off the top of your head. And, if you can think of any more, then ask yourself this: did they have as much of an impact on vampire literature as Dracula did?

How about we skip right ahead into the twentieth century?

Between 1897 and let's say, maybe, Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot (1975) or, better yet, Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire (1976), try and come up with some vampire titles that have been in continuous reprint since Stoker's book. Try and think of a name that is more synonymous with vampires than Dracula.

Can't think of any? That's how important Dracula's been to vampire literature. For better, or worse.

Now, just to get technical for a second, Dracula wouldn't nearly be so well-known today if it wasn't for its subsequent stage adaptations and a certain Bela Lugosi flick, but the fact remains, that Stoker's book spurred on a hell of an interest in the undead. So much so, that even "folklore" he invented managed to slip into studies on the vampire proper.

Sure, Stoker was drawing on a rich Gothic tradition, but few vampires have succeeded in crystallising an archetype and given birth to an industry.

But, to get back to the initial question, would vampires be as popular as they are today, if it wasn't for Dracula?

Bane argues in the affirmative. However, despite the material she cites, that is, the vampire writings leading up to Dracula's publication, I'm not really convinced vampires would be the pop culture figures they are today.

After all, as I pointed out, fictional writings on vampires were quite sparse by Stoker's time. Hell, a lot of the non-fiction stuff was derived from three primary sources: republications of Augustin's Calmet's works on vampires, Herbert Mayo's "Vampyrism" article and Theosophical/occult writings on psychic and astral vampires.

In fact, vampire literature of the latter nineteenth century was geared more to this last category, e.g. Florence Marryat's Blood of the Vampire (1897). This motif was already well-worn by the early twentieth century, too.

Thus, the publication of Dracula helped turn the tide against the metaphysical direction vampires were taking, by returning to folkloric variants, giving us many of the tropes we associate with them now. Its basic storyline and characterisations (Van Helsing, anyone?) also set a benchmark.

Of course, this also meant that a new cookie cutter template was born and many clones followed in its wake. Thus, it's no surprise that the next major novel to have a significant impact on subsequent vampire stories was Rice's 1976 book, mainly because of its shift from vampire-as-shadowy-background-figure, to protagonist. Hell, a vampire even told the damn story. A big overhaul, as it essentially meant the vampire's personality (along with moral complexities) came to the forefront. No longer was it a mere figure of evil to stalk-n-stake.

And yes, I know Fred Saberhagen beat her to the punch in 1975. His novel served as the perfect bridge between Stoker and the new guard.

But here's the thing: how could all these changes have taken place, if you remove Dracula from the equation? If there's anything Dracula achieved, it was casting vampires into the mainstream. You know, the "popular" angle of the original question.

I mean, how many vampire characters do you know, that have inspired potential theme parks?

So, no, I don't think vampires would be as popular today if Stoker's Dracula never existed. I mean, you don't exactly see Carmilla Karnstein on a box of cereal, do you?

Admittedly, the vampire has gone through bursts of public interest, which Bane touches on, but what she neglects to deal with is the large gaps between this interest. That is, prior to the twentieth century. And even then, basic knowledge and exposure to vampire writings is one thing (I'm sure a lot of folk knew what a vampire was by that time), but popularity, another. Toys, fake fangs, games, movies, TV shows, comics, etc., etc. they were all largely born in the shadow of Dracula's mainstream success, not a penny dreadful boogeyman or Polidori's Lord Byron pastiche. Thus, no Dracula = no mainstream success.

Daniel Farson's Great-Uncle

Finished reading Daniel Farson's The Man Who Wrote Dracula: A Biography of Bram Stoker (London: Michael Joseph, 1975), today.

Soon after the hundred and thirteenth anniversary of its publication, as it turns out.

A few items of note: firstly, Farson (1927-1997) was Stoker's great-nephew. Here's the lineage, as explained by Farson:

Bram was named after his father, Abraham, a civil servant in Dublin Castle. His mother, Charlotte, may have been twenty years younger than her husband but was the more formidable personality with a vaulting ambition for her five sons, though little time for her two daughters. Her father was Lieut. Thomas Thornley (1796-1850) of the 43rd Reg and married her mother, Matilda Blake, in 1817. Bram's elder brother, William, became known as W. Thornley Stoker. Tom, my grandfather, was two years younger (13).

This lineage has also been exploited by Dacre Stoker, Bram's great-grandnephew, who recently co-wrote an "official" sequel to Dracula, called Dracula: The Un-Dead.

But I digress.

The second item of note is Farson's discussion of "The Dracula Game" (152-161), which concerns the then-burgeoning forays into Dracula scholarship, specifically the psychological interpretations of Bierman ("Dracula: Prolonged Childhood Illness and the Oral Triad"), Royce MacGillivray and Shuster's "Dracula and Surgically Induced Trauma in Children".

Farson is astute in noting that

Playing the Dracula Game is fun, but too easy. The simple explanation, that Bram Stoker sat down to create a first-rate story, is not acceptable to the interpreters who frequently credit the artist with meanings that never occurred to him: Bram would have been astonished, and probably outraged, at their ideas. For in dragging their fantasies from the subconscious, they deny the power of Bram Stoker's imagination which, ultimately, was alone responsible for his masterpiece (160-161).

Interestingly, Farson also prefigured Elizabeth Miller's assertion that very little of the "real" Dracula (i.e. Vlad Ţepeș) was incorporated into the novel: "Even a cursory assessment will show that Stoker seized on the name of Dracula, together with a vague impression of the background, and that was all (130)."

Of course, this doesn't stop the biography being rife with speculation and assumptions, itself. For instance, "While he was absorbed in the vampirism of Carmilla. . ." (23), "Stoker might have seen the Lubek print of 1485" (129), right down the claim that Bram died of syphilis contracted from French prostitutes (233-235). It's from Farson and his doctor's diagnosis that this allegation originates. Peter Haining and Peter Tremayne did a commendable job disputing it in The Un-Dead: The Legend of Bram Stoker and Dracula (London: Constable, 1997), pp. 174-184.

Now, as to Bram himself, he generally seemed to exist on the periphery of larger figures, especially his friend Henry Irving. Seemingly little more than a lapdog, Renfield to Irving's Dracula. After a while, he tends to blur into the background of his own story.

But he was clearly a man with a profound sense of loyalty and a very kind heart. He was quite social and had a large circle of friends. Thus, it was a shame to read of him being exploited so readily. And when he was down and out, it seemed only his "Dear Friend Hommy-Beg" (Sir Hall Caine), willingly offered assistance (229-230).

Stoker's work ethic was admirable, even if it probably came at the expense of fostering a healthy family life. His only son, Noel (born Irving Noel Thornley Stoker), apparently resented Bram's association with Henry (215-216).

The biography itself is a brisk, compelling read. It's scholarly value is hampered by a lack of footnotes and bibliography, in favour of narrative fluency. Nonetheless, it's a recommended tome for your Dracula scholarship shelf.

Rare Dracula-Related Items on eBay

Came across a coupla interesting Dracula items on eBay while doing one of my sporadic searches.

The first depicts an unusually "decorated" edition of Bram Stoker's Dracula.

It seems pretty cheap for an asking price of US $18, until you properly read the seller's description:

One 8 x 10 color photo of Forry Ackerman's signed first edition of DRACULA. Clear and sharp. You can read all the signatures including Bram Stoker, Bela Lugosi, Vincent Price, Christopher Lee and Vampira.

The next item's one for the Vlad fans. Personally, I can't stand him, but even I can recognise the value in a genealogical study of the Transylvanian Terror. Even more so that it's actually George Florescu's Divanele domnesti din Tara Romanesca (1943).


George also lead an investigation into Vlad's alleged burial site in Snagov monastery, in 1931. This was the same year the first authorised cinematic adaptation of Dracula was released. It was also the year Raymond T. McNally was born.

McNally would later go on to author the book that put Dracula studies on the map: In Search of Dracula: A True History of Dracula and Vampire Legends (Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society, 1972).


Its co-author was Radu Florescu: George's nephew.

Here's a transcript from "Bloodlines: The Dracula Family Tree", which shows other links in the Florescu-Dracula chain.

This One's for the Dracula Fans

Came across what looks to be a brilliant addition to Drac Studies. Behold, Dracula: The Sourcebook:

With the many portrayals of Dracula in media, LSU Ph.D. student John Edgar Browning, along with author Caroline Joan Picart, have set out to put together the definitive Dracula reference book with "Dracula: The Sourcebook, A Guide to Film and Television, Comic Books and Video Gaming." LSU Ph.D. students Laura Helen Marks and Mitch Frye also contributed chapter introductions to the book, and several of Browning's former undergraduate students from a class on composition and monster theory assisted with the research.

Its publisher, McFarland, doesn't have an entry for the book on its website, so expect it to be published quite late in the year.

De-Romanticising the Vampire

Well, it looks like my jubilation over the Fright Night remake being canned, was a tad redundant.

As recent news from Collider.com reveals, it looks like it's going full steam ahead. Even if they're only at first draft screenplay level.

However, there's an undercurrent to the article which conveys a backlash against the "romantic vampire" genre. It's even seeped into the current premise of the movie. Producer Mike De Luca elaborates:

You know, what about this idea is relevant to today and what could be done better than it was…maybe not better but different and different in a way that makes it exciting. And with Fright Night, again, going back to the vampire thing, with all the romantic vampire stuff going on with The Vampire Diaries and True Blood and Twilight, the most obvious. We thought it would be interesting if, in this atmosphere of the way the vampire is being portrayed right now as a romantic object, under the wire of all that in the culture the real thing moves in next door. And the real thing is a killer. Just a predator. It’s the shark from Jaws. On the outside it’s a seductive package and it looks like a human being, but it’s just about ripping your throat out and drinking your blood.

There's echoes of this attitude in Blade: Trinity (2004). Think the scene where "Drake" (Dominic Purcell) walks into the goth shop.

The basis of the idea, of course, is to regress the vampire back to its "monster" status. The creature of evil we grew to know and love through Stoker's Dracula (1897) and various other incarnations.

This nostalgia is typified by John Nettles' "Where Have All the (Real) Vampires Gone? (Or, "Bite Me, Lestat!")".

However, there's two factors that these monster buff miss out on: 1) the vampire of history (folklore) wasn't nearly as brutal as they'd like to think 2) even the monsters in fiction are sometimes shown to have a heart.

For a quick example, let's look at Count Dracula.

In the novel, he is depicted as a cunning, cruel being, looking to spread vampirism through the civilised world. Yet, he clearly has a soft side. Let's take this scene, in which the Count rescues Jonathan Harker from the attentions of his "brides":

"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me."

The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him. "You yourself never loved. You never love!" On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it almost made me faint to hear. It seemed like the pleasure of fiends.

Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper, "Yes, I too can love. You yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! Go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done."

This "emo" side of Dracula is also alluded to in Bela Lugosi's turn as the Count, when he says, "To die, to be really dead, that would be glorious."

When "monsters" are humanised in this manner, especially by giving them a "tragic" elelment, the natural outcome is to explore the emotional dimensions of their situation. What's the mindset of a being that lives for centuries and must subsist on blood for its own survival?

This, of course, lead to the diversion of vampire-as-monster into vampire-as-hero/protagonist. Thus, Fred Saberhagen's The Dracula Tape (1975) sought to tell the story from Dracula's point-of-view. Its subsequent sequels, in turn, recast the Count as a hero.

More famously, Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire (1976) was narrated by Louis de Pointe du Lac, a former resident of 18th century New Orleans, who describes the trials and tribulations he faces as a vampire. Probably the most successful vampire novel of the twentieth century, it was further expanded in Rice's elaborate "Vampire Chronicles".

Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Hotel Transylvania (1978) transformed a mysterious historical figure into a vampiric Romantic hero and also spawned another successful series.

These approaches made the vampire much more "accessible" to the public. He was no longer an aristocrat living alone in a dank castle up in the mountains, but a fully developed "personality", one that could be found in an urban environment.

This also meant that the vampire became more of an accessible "fantasy" figure, too.

And so, from this genesis, the vampire romance genre was born. Its most successful incarnation is, of course, Stephenie Meyer's Twilight franchise.

Of course, this means that fans of the vampire genre, who either grew up with - or prefer - the "monster" variants, were stranded in an overcrowded market.

This in turn lead to a new wave of vampire depiction, in which the vampire's monstrosity is re-introduced, if not enhanced. The vampire hunter also resurfaces as a major character. Think F. Paul Wilson's "Midnight Mass" (1990; 2004), John Steakley's Vampire$ (1991) and David Wellington's "Vampire Series" (2006- ).

Then, there are versions that walk the line, like Laurell K. Hamilton's "Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter" series (1993- ) and Joss Whedon's TV rendition of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003).

The tug and pull between romanticisation and de-romanticisation will always be present in the vampire genre. There will always be debates and preferences over what vampires are "meant" to be like.

After all, one of the greatest attributes of the vampire in fiction and film, is its adaptability; the same characteristic that's ensured its success and survival in the present age.

Catalogue Arrives

My copy of Dracula. Woiwode und Vampir ("Dracula: Voivode and Vampire," 2008) arrived in the mail today.

It's a 240 page catalogue, in German, printed in association with an exhibition held at Ambras Castle in Innsbruck, Austria, from June 18, 2008 - October 31, 2008.

I don't normally go for stuff on Vlad Dracula (c. 1431-1476). In fact, I'd prefer if people would stop bloody writing about him in works on the vampire genre. No, I primarily bought it due to Niels' glowing appraisal of it in "'Let's Save Dracula!'", as well as the wonderful illustrations that accompany it; especially since it includes photographic reproductions of vampire reports from the 18th century. I'd love to share some of examples from the book, but I don't own a scanner or a digital camera. So, you'll have to make do with the images featured in Neils' blog entry.

The illustrations are brilliant, and pretty much all in colour. An absolutely gorgeously illustrated book.

But, I do warn you, it's not cheap.

The catalogue costs 29.90 EUR (c. 48.70 AUD) and the postage cost me 22.00 EUR (c. 35.85 AUD), totaling 51.90 EUR (c. 84.55 AUD). If you want to get an idea of how much that would tally in your region, click here.

If you're happy with the price, you can order the catalogue here.

But was it worth it?

For me, yes. As a bit of a curio, the incredibly rare illustrations, certainly make it a valued addition to my collection. But to truly appreciate it, it's best if you actually know German.

I, unfortunately, do not.

Will the Real Bram Stoker's Dracula Please Stand Up?

I've been re-reading Lyndon W. Joslin's Count Dracula Goes to the Movies: Stoker's Novel Adapted, 1922-1995 (Jefferson, North Carolina, and London: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 1999) and it's got me thinking.

Why hasn't anyone done a proper adaptation of Stoker's novel?

I mean, if you read Joslin's synopsis of the book (pp. 7-10), it's all fairly straightforward. What's the challenge? What's the hold-up?

The closest it's come to a faithful rendition, in my opinion, is Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992). It retains all the major characters, most plot points...but then incorporates a whole reincarnation-love story subplot.

Christopher Lee played Dracula several times, in several movies, yet in only one does his look conform with Stoker's description.

He's definitely one of the best actors to play the part. He's got the look. He's classically trained. I think.

He's even passionate enough to expresses exasperation over Dracula movies straying from the source:

The subsequent Dracula stories, after the first one, got so far away from the original conception, not only in the character but in the stories themselves, which had absolutely nothing to do with Stoker. The same thing happened with the Fu Manchu films. The producer bought the rights to all Sax Rohmer's stories about Fu Manchu, ignored them and then wrote his own. Something quite beyond me, I can't understand it. But I had read the books as a boy. I knew what the character was, because I knew how the author described him, so I played him the way that the author described him. It wasn't necessarily what was in the script. And the same thing applied to the character that I played in the Dracula movies. I tried to play the character the way that the author described him, but it wasn't in the script.

This is a golden opportunity, Hollywood! Or BBC, if you're reading.

Let's finally get a faithfully rendered Dracula movie up and running!

I mean, what do I have to do? Write the damn screenplay myself...

Dracula in World War 2

James Twitchell briefly discusses Richard Wasson's article, "The Politics of Dracula" (1966), in The Living Dead: A Study of the Vampire in Romantic Literature (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1981).

Twitchell sums up Wasson's critical reading of Bram Stoker's Dracula as "a parable of Old Central Europe destroying New Western Europe." (p. 139)

One item that caught my attention, however, was the issuing of Stoker's book during wartime:

Wasson's article is a critical tour de force, made perhaps risible by his contention that if such a reading were not true, how could we explain the fact that the United States army issued free copies of the book during World War 2? (p. 139)

I delved into this matter a bit, and came across an article by James Dourgarian called "Armed Services Editions", which has been reprinted on the Antiquarian Booksellers of America Association (ABBA) website. It discusses the United States Army's dissemination of paperbacks to its troops on the European and Pacific fronts. It notes that Dracula was published in two series: "No. L-25, 1944, and No. 851, 1945".

The ABBA website has a copy of one of these Armed Services Editions for sale. Its description reads thusly:

Going by Dourgarian's article we can establish that a) that the book is a second edition and b) that its publication date is actually 1945, not "circa 1944".