Bigfoot and the undead

I've noticed some interesting parallels between Bigfoot research and vampire categorisation (a subject I've been discussing here and here). Time to wade back into that semantic quagmire.

It began with reading bshistorian's coverage on the way Bigfoot is represented, who, in turn reproduces a post by a JREF forum member, noting, 'It’s an interesting reminder of how history can be more easily co-opted to suit certain agendas by taking advantage of ignorance – ignorance of the past and of cultures and traditions alien to our own.'

I believe this principle applies to vampire categorisation, too. The 'vampire' is used as a term of convenience when discussing various mythical, legendary and folkloric beings. To get to the 'source', we have to revert back to the vampire's 'origin' point, that is, the earliest uses of the term in conjunction with the classic bloodsucking corpse type. After all, the word entered our language to refer to this specific being.

In terms of the Bigfoot issue, JREF forum member - kitakaze - is much more blunt: 'It is my assertion that Native American traditions do not support the existence of bigfoot and that what is put forth by bigfoot enthusiasts as evidence for the existence of bigfoot has been cherry-picked and misrepresented.'

I acknowledge the evolution of the word's usage since it was first published in the Western European press. It has lead to apt variations like 'vampirism' and makes sense when we apply it in an occultic context to refer to 'psychic vampires'. Sometimes, people use the word to describe themselves.

The word's metaphoric context was first mined in Caleb D'Anvers' journal, The Craftsman, which featured an article discussing 'Political Vampyres' (20 May 1732, pp. 120-9), which explicitly drew parallels with the Arnod Paole case and its associated characteristics.* However, the word's original usage has not been phased out.

And that's the inherent 'problem' I see with the broad application of the word. In terms of vampire categorisation, its usage is so expansive, you really have to start asking where to draw the line. Here is a definition for vampires in Jonathan Maberry's Vampire universe: the dark world of supernatural beings that haunt us, hunt us, and hunger for us (New York: Citadel Press, 2006):

Quite simply, vampires are supernatural beings that take what is not theirs to takes [sic]—blood, life, breath, or some other vital part of their human victims; and they take it by force. It is the taking without permission that characterizes the vampire. Even in cases of vampire seduction, the vampire is using supernatural powers to seduce its victim, which is no more a consensual act than spiking a woman's cocktail with a "date rape" drug (p. x).

Apart from raising questions on the nature of 'consent', many beings in myth, folklore and legend embody these characteristics from ghosts to witches to demons. However, even Maberry admits that his use of the term is 'for convenience' (ibid.).

Compare this with what Joe Nickell says about Bigfoot research in Tracking the man-beats: sasquatch, vampires, zombies, and more (Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus Books, 2011): 'There seems now to be a trend towards standardization, as the creature evolves into a mythical being—central to a belief shaped by planetary concerns' (p. 75). That was after noting 'What becomes apparent from all this data [of various 'Bigfoot' sightings] is the incredible variety of creatures reported (including many that are white, gray-blue, yellow, brown, reddish, black, etc.; that are horned and fanged, or not; that walk on all fours or upright; that have two to six toes and the like)' (ibid.).

How can such supernatural diversity be reconciled under a single heading? In the quest for convenience, doesn't the cultural emphasis of such beings, their local names, become lost in the process, in order to synthesise these beings under a single 'type'? In terms of 'reconciling' various traits, isn't a 'new' being created?

Occasionally, such 'reconciliation' is employed by paranormalists shoehorning various data to suit their own theories and 'experiences', not limited to presenting an 'alternate' history to 'validate' comparatively modern 'phenomena'. Montague Summers did it. So does the Vampire Research Society.**

To come full circle, 'Bigfoot' scores a mention in Shane MacDougall's (Jonathan Maberry) The vampire slayers' field guide to the undead (Doylestown, Pa.: Strider Nolan Publishing), p. 142, while Janet and Colin Bord, in discussing the hysteria and subsequent cash-ins on sightings near Sister Lakes, Michigan, mention a monster hunting kit for sale: 'For $7.95 the keen hunter could buy a light, a net, a baseball bat and, to clinch matters, a mallet and a stake' (my emphasis, cited in Nickel 2011, p. 73).

* The Arnod Paole case was so significant to vampire research, it introduced 'Vampyre' (vampire) into our language via the coverage given in The London J0urnal (13 March 1732) which The Craftsman article quotes from.

** see my dissection of their so-called 'Vampirological testimony' parts one, two, three, four.

Tracking the first 'true' vampire

I recently received an interesting comment from bshistorian, which gave me some food for thought: who was the first 'true' vampire?

As I've mentioned many times in this blog, I'm a proponent of the 'modern' vampire theory, that is, vampires aren't as ancient or universal as many writers claim them to be. For starters, the word, 'vampire', is a relatively recent addition to our vocabulary. Superficial on the surface, sure, but I'll elaborate on its significance later. First, here's the relevant portions from bshistorian's comment:

More directly on topic for your latest post, I've been reading Masters' 'A Natural History of the Vampire', which suffers badly from the 'lumping in' syndrome you describe. Taking his lead from Summers, *everything* becomes somehow evidence of vampire belief - revenants, ghosts, cannibals, serial killers, you name it. But this is an 'old' book - it's when we see this still going on today that I really despair.

Though I said 'early 18th century), would I in fact be right in saying that the 'Jure Grando' incident of 1672 (reported by Valvasor in 1689) is the earliest instance of a 'true' (i.e. bloodsucking) vampire?

In case you're unfamiliar with our friend Jure, bshistorian is referring to a 'vampire' better known as Giure Grando. As bs alludes, [Johann Weichard von] Valvasor is believed to be the earliest source of this case, which he recorded in his 1689 book, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain (The glory of the Duchy of Carniola).

Rob Brautigam reproduced the relevant portions on the case from Valvasor's book (untranslated), while Niels has noted that the town in which it originally took place, has recently begun capitalising Grando's vampire reputation. The question is, does Grando deserve his 'vampire tag? Was he truly - as his Wikipedia entry says - 'the first classical vampire to be mentioned in documented records'?

Let's boil down the core elements featured in Brautigam's extracts. He has an overview of the case (in English), so I'll be relying on that in tandem with Google Translate for the extracts.*

Firstly, Grando is supposed to have returned from death to torment the living. He visited their homes and members of the household would die shortly after. There is no mention of direct attacks, which draws parallels with the Greek vrykolakas, which, in some cases, was said to knock on a resident's door, and, if answered, would ensure death to the householder. I might examine that aspect at a later time.

Brautigam repeats Dudley Wright's version of events, in that Grando was said to throw his widow 'into a deep sleep with the object of sucking her blood', however this attribute is not found in the Valvasor extracts, suggesting a latter-day embellishment.

In terms of the extracts, it's clear Grando wasn't called a 'vampire', either. At least, not locally or contemporary with the time the incident was recorded. Instead, supernatural beings of his type were called 'Strigon', as the Valvasor mentions. While this term - on the surface - bears a marked resemblance to the Romanian strigoi, which, itself, is often described as Romania's version of the vampire, that does not necessarily mean the word is a synonym. For instance, 'vampire' is rendered as vampir in Romanian and is of comparatively modern use, indicating the word had to be introduced to the language, otherwise an extant Romanian word would have sufficed. Same principle at work, in this case.

There are, however, other recognisable vampire tropes in the Grando case, so it's obvious to see why the vampire tag's been applied. There is an attempt to drive a stake through his body - as well as mention of the practice being used against others of his type. However, the use of a hawthorn stake (as per Wright's rendering) is not explicit, so I can't help wondering if Wright was trying to draw upon its use in Serbian vampire tradition, even if it wasn't explicitly listed by Valvasor. Apart from the stake, a crucifix is wielded at the 'vampire' while in its grave, however, this does not seem to have been used as a ward, per se, but as part of an exorcism or absolution rite.

The key ingredient missing from the Grando case is the vampire's tendency to suck the blood of its victims. This is a vital component to the vampire tag and this gets us back to my point about the significance behind the word's introduction to our language.

When the Arnold Paole case broke press, journalists and other writers used the local term for revenants of his 'type': 'vampyre' [vampire] and minor variants thereof. And by 'local', I mean the term used in Serbia, where Paole lived. These renderings can be traced to recounts of Flückinger's exhumation report, 'Visum et Repertum' (26 January 1732). In describing beings of Paole's type, Flückinger, himself, wrote 'die sogenannte Vampyrs'.

At the time, this area was occupied by the Austro-Hungarian empire, which is why Paole and/or the region he lived was occasionally - but mistakenly - referred to as Hungarian. Paole, himself, was said to have been attacked by a vampire while stationed in 'Turkish Serbia', i.e. the region of Serbia under Ottoman rule. Therefore, it can be surmised that Serbia is the 'source' of this term. That, in turn, means that components discussed in the Paole case should match up with other local applications of the term. Paole was explicitly said to have sucked his victim's blood after returning from the dead.

However, did Paole have an antecedent? Was there another Serbian revenant, also referred to as a vampire? Was it also described as sucking its victim's blood? Yep.

Enter Peter Plogojovitz. Another Serbian vampire. Another blood-drinker. Also referred to, locally, by the vampire tag ('so nennen Vampyri'). While not as well-known as Paole, his case also garnered press coverage, primarily from the Wienerisches Diarium (25 July 1725). However, despite what we're trying to establish with bshistorian's query about who the 'first' vampire was, Plogojovitz clearly wasn't. The report the Wienerisches Diarium reproduced, mentioned that other villages had been decimated by other such beings, which is why the villagers of Kisolova were so keen to 'dispose' of Plogojovitz in the 'traditional and approved manner': by staking him and cremating his remains. Such events were also said to occur during 'Turkish times', i.e. the period in which that region was under Ottoman rule.

So, is there an earlier version of a being - or person - explicitly referred to as a vampire along with these traits? To my knowledge, no. And Niels seems to agree. Neither us, however, are saying that Plogojovitz was the first vampire, per se, but that he is probably the first named vampire. The first case in which the terms and traits are explicitly fused. At least, that's my interpretation. Therefore, Serbia's vampire 'contribution', essentially, to the world, can not be underestimated. Romania usually takes the credit - thanks to Dracula - but it certainly wasn't the bedrock of the legend.

However, this is where things get murky.

In my original reply to bshistorian, I did allude to sources covering vampires elsewhere. Namely, Poland. When Calmet said, 'In this age, a new scene presents itself to our eyes, and has done for about sixty years in Hungary, Moravia, Silesia, and Poland', he was incorporating references to the 'oupire'.

The public memorials of the years 1693 and 1694 speak of oupires, vampires or ghosts, which are seen in Poland, and above all in Russia. They make their appearance from noon to midnight, and come and suck the blood of living men or animals in such abundance that sometimes it flows from them at the nose, and principally at the ears, and sometimes the corpse swims in its own blood oozed out in its coffin. It is said that the vampire has a sort of hunger, which makes him eat the linen which envelops him. This reviving being, or oupire, comes out of his grave, or a demon in his likeness, goes by night to embrace and hug violently his near relations or his friends, and sucks their blood so much as to weaken and attenuate them, and at least cause their death (p. 52).

The main traits - as well as a marked similarity in name - are present. Plogovitz and Paole were both supposed to strangle their victims ('hug violently'?). However, the method of the 'oupire''s destruction (decapitation and/or 'opening the heart') vary slightly. The term, 'oupire', is clearly derived from the Slavic upir and it's interesting to see that term is occasionally used in lieu of 'vampire' or an obvious derivative.

Naturally, this open the door to a version of the 'universal' vampire theory: if oupire or upir was an antecedent/variant of 'vampire', what other cultural variants are there of the Slavic type? Were they considered to synonymous? To justify that, I would suggest that a direct correlation needs to be established. But I think it's reasonable to conclude that the direct origins of vampire we today can be traced to the localised Serbian variant at least by its name and basic characteristics.

To employ the term, 'vampire' in a broad, generic sense, at least, without showing due respect - and citation of original, localised terms and characteristics - is to obscure and/or obliterate the cultural and local 'variants' (for want of a better description). If a case is to be made that the variants in question were 'the same thing', then a linguistic and cultural genealogy to the Serbian vampire should be established. After all, without the Serbian vampire precedent, there are no other 'vampires', either.**

* I know this isn't the best scholarly aid, but those able to read German are free to correct me if I've made any errors by consulting Brautigam's extract. I will happily cite corrections on this blog.

** This isn't to say that, generally speaking, the vampire label should only be used if it caters to this specific paradigm. After all, that'd make the vampire film and literary genres obsolete. What I'm saying is, yes, I know that the term can be used in a generic sense, especially in respect to its evolution even in our own language, but where folklore studies are concerned, a vampire 'family tree' should be taken into consideration before using the term in a 'universal' context.

The Importance of Paper Trails

I've received an interesting comment from reader, Jonathan, concerning assumptions raised in my previous post. I'll address it here, and also discuss the scholarly value of citing other works.

Peter Haining's A Dictionary of Vampires (London: Robert Hale, 2000) provided a misattributed source on pre-Gerard usage of the term nosferatu. I derived three possibilities from this, namely, 1) Haining misunderstood Jones' ambiguous comment about von Wlislocki's "researches into Roumanian superstitions", 2) Haining obtained the misattributed quote from another dodgy source and 3) Haining fabricated the source. Here's what Jonathan had to say about my conclusions:

Great work. However, I don't think your three possibilities are necessary.

The 1861 date must surely come from a conflation of footnotes on p117 of Jones' 'On The Nightmare'.

There IS an 1861 dated bibliographic reference on that page, but it's to a completely different preceding point.

Have another look at Footnotes 1 (irrelevant to 'Nosferat', dated 1861) and 2 (the Stern quote, undated in Jones' text).

As the two are oddly arranged relative to one another, and Footnote 2 lacks a date, it's easy to see how someone in a rush might attribute that date to the wrong footnote.

Here's what I mean;
http://www.archive.org/stream/onthenightmare032020mbp#page/n119/mode/2up/search/1861

While he raises some intriguing points, I'm gonna stick to my guns on this one. Why? Let's take a look at the footnote in question:


The footnote appears in Ernest Jones' On the Nightmare (London: Hogarth Press, 1931), p. 117. Sure, their placement is a little odd. That's a formatting issue more than anything, but let's cast our eyes further up the same page:


I find it difficult to believe that Haining could have conflated the footnotes so easily. To verify where Wlislocki was being quoted from, all he had to do was comb through the book for other references to Stern, especially as "Quoted by" and "op. cit." were mentioned. I was able to do this easily enough. That's why I can tell you that Jones was quoting Wlislocki via Bernhard Stern's Medizin, Aberglaube und Geschlechtsleben in der Türkei. Mit Berücksichtigung der moslemischen Nachbarländer und der ehemaligen Vasallenstaaten, Vol. 1 (Berlin: H. Barsdorf, 1903).

While I do see Jonathan's point about the 1861 date, there's two other aspects of Haining's misattributed citation that aren't so easily dismissed. Firstly, Haining attributes an actual book title to Wlislocki, that is Roumanian Superstitions (1861). As I'd pointed out, no such book is quoted in the text. Instead, Jones makes reference to Wlislocki's "researches into Roumanian superstitions", which is where I suspect Haining derived the imaginary title from.

Secondly, it's clear that Haining either altered Jones' translation of the Wlislocki extract or derived it from another, faulty source. Compare the two sources. In Jones' rendering, we have "The Nosferat not only sucks the blood of sleeping people, but also does mischief as an Incubus or Succubus" (117), meanwhile, Haining's "quote" says "The Nosferatu not only sucks the blood of sleeping people, but also does mischief as an Incubus or Succubus" (184). There's small differences between the two, but they're significant in proving that an alteration has taken place.

So, to sum up, Haining doesn't get off the hook that easily. Using Jones' footnotes as evidence, Haining had no justification in concocting an imaginary book title (like we need more of those). In this regard, he was sloppy at best and outright deceptive at worst. If Haining's book had featured a bibliography, it would be much easier to establish which of these possibilities was most likely.

This is why paper trails are essential. Quotations, citations, footnotes, they're all-important for verifying the accuracy of information conveyed and sources consulted. It's also perfectly demonstrated in Andrew's review of Charlotte Montague's Vampires: From Dracula to Twilight: The Complete Guide to Vampire Mythology (2010), a book I'd previously regarded with a glimmer of hope, in light of its author's MA degree for History.

Yet, here's what Andrew has to say about the book's coverage of the historical origins of the vampire's destruction by sunlight:

The moniker “From Dracula to Twilight” is a misnomer as it does explore (though explore is perhaps a generous term) things that came before Dracula. When it comes to sources I would have loved to have seen one for the assertion that (having first neglected to mention Nosferatu when exploring the sunlight myth) in “later stories, vampires might collapse or explode when hit by sunlight, the ‘scientific’ explanation for this being that their neural pathways would fire randomly in their brains, causing them to experience extreme epileptic reactions, blinding them, and possibly setting them on fire”! I have seen many an explanation as to why sunlight might affect a vampire, and countless more films and books when it isn’t even explained but simply taken as read. I do not recall a theorem such as that… pray tell me your source… the book remains silent.

This is an incredibly disappoining for the scholarly reader: a dead-end. How do we verify such information? Where do we even begin to start? What are we to make of its publisher, Sphere, and their claim that they pride themselves on "publishing high-quality commercial fiction and non-fiction" and their "[p]assion, imagination and attention to detail are the cornerstones of our publishing"? It's a hell of an oversight.

Sure, footnotes and citations aren't the most aesthetically pleasing things, but they're integral for scholarly readers and further research, especially when it comes to such extravagant claims. It also applies to images, too. I've previously covered an erroneous caption and its relevance to vampire research, as well as its reproduction in another source. You see, without keeping dodgy info in "check" it tends to spread. This is detrimental to proper study of the genre and should be avoided at all cost. If in doubt, consult the primary source.

Examining Roumanian Superstitions

The origin of the word, nosferatu, has been a contentious topic with scholars. Emily Gerard (1849-1905) is generally considered to be the earliest author to use the term. However, a source pre-dating her work is dealt with in a certain vampire dictionary. Let's take a look at it.

I know Wikipedia's reliability as an information source is roundly criticised, but their nosferatu page gave me an invaluable paper trail. Take this sentence: "Peter Haining identifies an earlier source for nosferatu as 'Roumanian Superstitions (1861)' by Heinrich von Wlislocki." The source is identified as Peter Haining's A Dictionary of Vampires (London: Robert Hale, 2000). As it happens, I own a copy of this book. Here's the relevant extract:

In his book, Roumanian Superstitions (1861), the distinguished historian, Heinrich von Wlislocki has provided probably the definitive statement on its activities: 'The Nosferatu not only sucks the blood of sleeping people, but also does mischief as an Incubus or Succubus. It is the stillborn, illegitimate child of two people who are similarly illegitimate. It is hardly put under the earth before it awakes to life and leaves its grave never to return. It visits people by night and when its sex is male, it visits women; when female, men.' (184-185)

I was unable to find any trace of this von Wlislocki book anywhere. At this point, serendipity stepped into the picture. You see, I was reading Margaret L. Carter's Shadow of a Shade: A Survey of Vampirism in Literature (New York: Gordon Press, 1975) on Friday. No particular reason. But boy did my eyes light up when I came across this:

Rumania is the home of the Nosferat, the name applied (not quite accurately) to Count Dracula by his creator. A Nosferat, reports Heinrich von Wlislocki (quoted in Ernest Jones' On the Nightmare) is the "stillborn, illegitimate child of two people who are similarly illegitimate." (2)

Carter gives a more complete listing of her source in her book's "Notes" section: "Ernest Jones, On the Nightmare (New York: Liveright Publishing Corp., 1951, c1931), p. 117" (148).

Was it possible that Haining quoted von Wlislocki via Jones? This assumption would be pretty hard to establish as fact, as Haining's Dictionary doesn't contain a bibliography. So, that left me with the option of consulting Jones' book, instead.

Thankfully, I have a copy of it. The original, in fact, not the reprint Carter cites. I'd downloaded it from Internet Archive on February 5, 2009. Here's what Jones' On the Nightmare (London: Hogarth Press, 1931) has to say:

Heinrich von Wlislocki, in his researches into Roumanian superstitions, tells us: 'Der Nosferat saugt nicht nur schlafender Menschen Blut, sondern stiftet auch als Inkubus-Succuba Unheil. Der Nosferat ist das totgeborene uneheliche Kind zweier Leute, die beide ebenfalls uneheliche Kinder sind. Kaum wird das von solcher Mutter und solchem Vater stammende uneheliche und totgeborene Kind in der Erde verscharrt, so erwacht es zum Leben, entsteigt seinem Grabe und kehrt nicht mehr dahin zurück. Als schwarze Katze, als schwarzer Hund, als Käfer, Schmetterling oder auch bios als Strohhalm besucht es nachts die Menschen; wenn es männlichen Geschlechts ist: die Frauen; wenn es weiblichen Geschlechts ist: die Männer (117).

If you can't read German (like me), that's ok, because Jones also supplies an English translation:

The Nosferat not only sucks the blood of sleeping people, but also does mischief as an Incubus or Succubus. The Nosferat is the still-born, illegitimate child of two people who are similarly illegitimate. It is hardly put under the earth before it awakes to life and leaves its grave never to return. It is hardly put under the earth before it awakes to life and leaves its grave never to return. It visits people by night in the form of a black cat, a black dog, a beetle, a butterfly or even a simple straw. When its sex is male, it visits women; when female, men. (117)

The similarity between Jones' translation and Haining's quote from von Wlislocki, is too obvious to dismiss. But, unlike Haining, Jones directly cites his source: "Quoted by Stern, op. cit. Bd. i. S. 357, 358" (117).

So, who was this Stern bloke? Once again, Jones told me. Firstly in his "Index of Authors" (356) and then in a previous footnote: "B. Stern, Medizin, Aberglaube und Geschlechtsleben in der Türkei, 1903, Bd. i. S. 364, 365" (102 n4).

Some light googlin' turned up a more thorough citation: Bernhard Stern's Medizin, Aberglaube und Geschlechtsleben in der Türkei. Mit Berücksichtigung der moslemischen Nachbarländer und der ehemaligen Vasallenstaaten. Band 1 (Berlin: H. Barsdorf, 1903). Incidentally, "Band" is German for "Volume".

Would Stern's book tell us the von Wlislocki source? Once again, Internet Archive came to the rescue. His bibliography has the following citation: "„Quälgeister im Volksglauben der Rumänen", von Heinrich von Wlislocki.. ,.Urquell" 1896" (24).

Thanks to the Wikipedia entry, I had already come across mentions of this article in David J. Skal's Hollywood Gothic: The Tangled Web of Dracula from Novel to Stage to Screen, rev. ed. (2004). I don't have a copy of this book. Thankfully, Google Books has "previews" of it. Which is why I can tell you that it includes "an excerpt from Wlislocki's article 'Torturing Spirits in Romanian Popular Belief' from the German periodical Am Ur-Quell ("At the Primary Source"), vol. 6, 1896, pp. 108-109" (80-81), which was translated and researched by Lokke Heiss and Andrea Kirchhartz. So, to come full circle, here's a section of their translation which ties in with the previous sources (except Haining's):

The most dangerous torturing spirit of Romanian folklore, which not only sucks sleeping people's blood but also plays a dangerous part as incubus and succubus is the Nosferat. According to popular belief, the Nosferat is the illegitimate child of two people who are illegitimate themselves. The Nosferat is born dead, but after burial awakens to life and never returns to his grave, but assumes different shapes. One moment he appears as a black dog, now as a beetle, now as a butterfly, yea, even now as a straw. In these shapes he visits people at night; if he is of the male sex, women; if female, she pays her visit to men. (80-81)

And this is where I've come up against a brick wall. As of this writing, I haven't been able to access a copy of von Wilslocki's "Quälgeister im Volksglauben der Rumänen". That's where I've hit a dead-end with the Internet Archive and Google Books. So, I can't tell you whether or not von Wlislocki's article, in turn, came from an earlier source. But, let's say I'm highly doubtful.

For starters, Heinrich von Wlislocki (1856-1907) would've been five years old when Haining clams Roumanian Superstitions (1861) was published. Thus, I'm left with three possibilities:

1. Haining misunderstood Jones' ambiguous comment about von Wlislocki's "researches into Roumanian superstitions".
2. Haining obtained the misattributed quote from another dodgy source.
3. Haining fabricated the source.

I'm hesistant to accept the last option, although, it doesn't help that Haining (1940-2007) obviously transposed von Wlislocki's "Nosferat" to "Nosferatu". Nor does it help that Haining's book contains no bibliography. A mere book title (which, incidentally, I haven't even been able to trace) isn't good enough. Yet, I'm also fairly convinced that this book doesn't exist, anyway.

If I do get my hands on a copy of von Wlislocki's article, I'll let you know if it cites publication in an earlier work. However, the periodical's title ("At the Primary Source") seems more like an omen than a glimmer of hope.

Vampire or Vampyre?

You've probably seen these spelling variants bandied about on various websites; especially ones that cover the vampire subculture. So what's the difference between the two?

Some proponents of the vampire lifestyle claim that vampire is used to define folkloric, fictional or cinematic variants. You know, the bloodsucking corpse variety. So, they use vampyre to distinguish themselves from this motley crew.

Father Sebastiaan, a major figure in the Scene, elaborates on this distinction in his book, Vampyre Sanguinomicon: The Lexicon of the Living Vampire (San Francisco: Red Wheel-Weiser, 2010):

Our traditional spelling denotes a significant and profound difference between fantasy and reality. Thus the Strigoi Vii, when speaking in short text, spell Vampyre with a capital V and a y. We use the y spelling to designate the term representing Our existence and Our mysteries. For example, when referring to the practice of energy tapping from the Strigoi Vii perspective, one would say Vampyrism. When We spell vampire with an i and lowercase v, it traditionally refers to the mythological, literary, or popular concept of the vampire (8).

While ReligiousTolerance.org might accept such defintions, applying it to vampire studies on a broader basis requires that you completely ignore pre-twentieth century usage of "vampire" and "vampyre".

The still-standard vampire concept and term were introduced to the English language via coverage of the Arnold Paole case, in the March 11, 1732 issue of The London Journal. The term used at the time? "Vampyres". These were obviously not the quasi-mystical variety Sebastiaan talks about.

Not long after that, "vampire" was already making an appearance. Charles Forman's A Second Letter to the Right Honourable Sir Robert Walpole (London, 1733) used it in a metaphorical context when he contrasted the effective use of the Dutch governments' use of taxes against the taxes used by other States for unncessarily opulent projects ("the Rapine of a fat-gutted Vampire" [38]).

Let's skip ahead to the 19th century. What was the name of the first English language vampire story? That's right: John Polidori's The Vampyre (1819). By mid-century, "vampire" and "vampyre" were used interchangably in the penny dreadful, Varney the Vampire (c. 1845). Meanwhile, a then widely-consulted source on vampire history was a chapter in Herbet Mayo's Letters on the Truths Contained in Popular Superstitions (1849) and its subsequent editions. Bram Stoker, himself, consulted one of these latter editions in the preparation for writing his magnum opus, Dracula (1897). The name of Mayo's chapter? "Vampyrism".

So what's the deal with these spelling variations if they were used to refer to the same thing? That's where we get into liguistics. You see, it wasn't just "vampires" that copped inconsitant spellings. Many other words did, too. As with many languages, English has taken a long time to become the standardised form we use today. Thus, certain words became obsolete and archaic spellings are revised. We no longer say thy (your). We hesitate, not hæsitate. And we use the toilet, not the privy.

The very same principles apply to vampyre and vampire. In this case, they're phonetic renderings of the same Slavic term: vampir. As you can see, both terms have been used to describe the same being, that is, a bloodsucking corpse. When it was used metaphorically, it was in context of these same legendary beings. Thus, the distinctions made by Sebastiaan et. al., have no historical basis.

What about Sebastiaan's claim that Stoker's publisher wanted the "vampyre" renderings in his novel changed to "vampire", so they wouldn't sound "too ethnic", thus popularising vampire's usage (9)?

It's a pretty ludicrous claim in light of Robert Eighteen-Bisang and Elizabeth Miller's Bram Stoker's Notes for Dracula: A Facsimile Edition (Jefferson: McFarland, 2008). It clearly shows that Stoker was using "vampire" or "vampires" long before he'd even finished writing his novel. Seven times, in fact (19, 25, 63, 83, 125, 127, 131). That'd be wholly consistant with late 19th century usage, when "vampire" was the common rendering.

So, to sum up, in an historical context, there's no difference between "vampyre" and "vampire". Vampyre is merely an archaic rendering of vampire. If you insist on spelling vampire as vampyre because it's more "authentic", then you might as well regress your modern vocabulary to other archaic spellings like faile (fail), garbidge (garbage) and gullable (gullible).

Don't get me started on the strigoi vii.

When Did Vampires Enter the English Language?

Dan's "Vampire (L’amour de l’étymologie IX)" blog entry for Librari[d]an, would have you believe this:

The word was first used in English in 1734: “These Vampyres are supposed to be the Bodies of deceased Persons, animated by evil Spirits, which come out of the Graves, in the Night-time, suck the Blood of many of the Living, and thereby destroy them.”

Dan is clearly citing an extract from the anonymously-written The Travels of three English Gentlemen, from Venice to Hamburgh, being the grand tour of Germany in the year 1734.

This work was not published until 1744, in which it was included in an anthology called the Harleian Miscellany. You can view in the 1810 edition of the Harleian Miscellany here.

The quotation Dan provides, is an English translation of an extract from Johann Heinrich Zopf's Dissertatio de Vampyris Serviensibus (1733).

However, two years prior to Travels, the term had already appeared in English.

The March 11, 1732 issue of The London Journal carried a story about the infamous - and alleged - vampire, "Arnold Paul":

Upon a current Report, that in the Village of Medreyga certain Dead Bodies (called here Vampyres) had killed several Persons by sucking out all their Blood[...]

Jean Marigny's Vampires: The World of the Undead (London: Thames and Hudson, 1994), p. 48, also cites The London Journal article as responsible for the word's introduction into the English language.