Father Ernesto has turned over the vampire posts to me, Father Orthoduck. He was reading one of the recent set of comments from a previous post that sparked a thought in his mind. The posts were two descriptions of the post-mortems of two people in the book, Dracula. However, the deaths and the established reactions of the vampires brought an interesting thought to the mind of Father Orthoduck. But, first, Father Orthoduck apologizes to those readers that come here looking for slightly more Orthodox issues. Below are the descriptions of the two post-mortems.
The first is the description of Lucy Westenra following her staking:
There, in the coffin lay no longer the foul Thing that we had so dreaded and grown to hate that the work of her destruction was yielded as a privilege to the one best entitled to it, but Lucy as we had seen her in life, with her face of unequaled sweetness and purity. True that there were there, as we had seen them in life, the traces of care and pain and waste. But these were all dear to us, for they marked her truth to what we knew. One and all we felt that the holy calm that lay like sunshine over the wasted face and form was only an earthly token and symbol of the calm that was to reign for ever.
The second is the description of Dracula, himself, his death and his post-mortem:
By this time the gypsies, seeing themselves covered by the Winchesters, and at the mercy of Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward, had given in and made no further resistance. The sun was almost down on the mountain tops, and the shadows of the whole group fell upon the snow. I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.
As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph.
But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat. Whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the heart.
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.
A blogger pointed out to Father Ernesto that in both cases it appears that the person went to a peaceful place. In the case of Lucy, it appears quite clear that she is in heaven. In the case of Dracula, the statement is a little more hesitant, as the look of peace flashes by, and thus leaves open the possibility of some uncertainty. Nevertheless, this answers a question that Father Ernesto had. Is it either appropriate or “fair” that an innocent person could be taken by a vampire, turned into a demonic creature, and be bereft of the possibility of heaven? Stoker’s answer appears to be that it is truly not fair and that the person is returned to their state before they became vampires and is judged based on their status prior to being made into such creatures.
This raised some questions in the mind of Father Orthoduck. What is the mechanism of vampirism? There appears to be a contagion that cannot be avoided. If one is bitten by a vampire and drained, then one will become a vampire. This almost appears to be a medical model. However, when one becomes a vampire, one becomes a supernatural creature that is affected by those earthly symbols that live in two worlds. What does Father Orthoduck mean by that? Well, Holy Water is a “creature” of this world, and yet a vehicle of the Holy Spirit. The Bread and Wine of the Lord’s Supper are truly the Body and Blood of Christ. The Cross is both a remembrance of how Our Lord died but also the sign by which we bless ourselves and call God’s blessing upon us. It is, therefore, wood through the heart (for with the heart one believes) that a vampire dies, for every piece of wood has somehow been sanctified by Christ’s death upon the wood of the Cross. (The head being cut off also makes sense, if only from the viewpoint that one cannot animate a body without a connection to it.) If this is true, then only garlic makes no sense whatsoever, for garlic is not hooked to any such double nature.
However, this brings up an interesting question. The description of vampirism is not merely one of a viral disease, but–if the death scenes are accurate–the transmission of a demonic force into the person which takes control of the person’s will. The evidence that it is a demonic force is that the instruments of the Church are critically repellent to a vampire. Well, all except the garlic, which makes no sense. So, the question Father Orthoduck has is, “Was Van Helsing wrong about the methods necessary to combat vampires?” Given that the vampires react so strongly against the things of the Church, why not simply call in a priest to perform an exorcism? Since a priest is somewhat two-natured and lives in two worlds and strives to be the bridge between the seen and the unseen, should not a priest be quite efficacious in the fight against vampires? Should not a priest be able to exorcise a vampire? Why did Van Helsing not call a priest?
“Why did Van Helsing not call a priest?”
That…is actually a very good question. One which, in all of my many readings of the book, had never once occurred to me before. Why DIDN’T Van Helsing call a priest? He clearly was a big believer in the power of the Church against the undead (he actually employed the Host itself against some of the Count’s minions), but he never seems to actively seek conscious aid from a priest or exorcist. Perhaps it has to do with the novel’s setting in England, and the strength of the Anglican church there, or perhaps it has to do with Van Helsing’s stubbornness (for as brilliant as he is in the broadness and depth of his knowledge of confronting the monsters, Van Helsing makes a number of missteps that nearly lead to disaster).
It’s interesting that a number of these concepts which we now consider so integral to the vampire legend were actually introduced in this novel. In most European folklore, vampirism was not transmitted by a bite, but by a variety of profane or bizarre circumstances: anything from being buried without last rites to committing suicide to dying unbaptized to being born with teeth could make you a candidate for vampirism, depending on what the local lore of your part of the continent was. Even in “Dracula,” there’s a bit more to it than just the bite; Dracula forced Mina to drink his blood as well as partaking of hers, in a very disturbing scene that reads simultaneously as a sexual assault and a grotesque parody of Communion (this scene, I might add, is almost always played up as romantic and erotic in stage and film adaptations, whereas in the book it is deeply traumatic for Mina both while it is happening and afterwards…there’s certainly an indicator of something that’s shifted in our culture there, that’s for sure).
Holy symbols don’t seem to hold much sway over vampires in European folklore either…there are even varieties of revenant which can impersonate a normal human being so well that they can attend church without their true nature being detected for decades. Most of the classical ways of dealing with the undead had more to do with superstition than with Christianity…such as garlic, which makes no sense in the rest of the book’s context because it’s one of the few things which does come from actual folklore, whether it’s warding off vampires, witches, werewolves, or demons. I don’t think anybody really understands why that’s supposed to work, yet it’s one of the most universal aspects of the myth.
Really, what Stoker did, I’ve come to realize, is recast vampire legend in a Christian light. He presents the Count and his thralls as a sort of Satanic imitation of the resurrection, a poor and insubstantial shadow of true eternal life which even Dracula himself finds a misery to endure, and which shrinks away before even the image of the reality it’s trying to usurp. I don’t think any of the books, movies, or television shows that have come after Stoker have ever quite picked up on that theme.
I had forgotten about the drinking of blood. That is a good point about a faux communion. The information on revenants is interesting and I want to think about it some.
Oh dear, at the rate we’re going, I’ll be having you writing solely about vampires now, haha!
“Even in “Dracula,” there’s a bit more to it than just the bite; Dracula forced Mina to drink his blood as well as partaking of hers, in a very disturbing scene that reads simultaneously as a sexual assault and a grotesque parody of Communion (this scene, I might add, is almost always played up as romantic and erotic in stage and film adaptations, whereas in the book it is deeply traumatic for Mina both while it is happening and afterwards…there’s certainly an indicator of something that’s shifted in our culture there, that’s for sure).”
I agree with this. When you read the actual original novel, it’s shocking just how different it all is from the modern versions. Very Christian, and Dracula is very much a vicious monster, and not the least bit romantic.
I must disagree with Stoker on this though:
“He presents the Count and his thralls as a sort of Satanic imitation of the resurrection, a poor and insubstantial shadow of true eternal life which even Dracula himself finds a misery to endure, and which shrinks away before even the image of the reality it’s trying to usurp. I don’t think any of the books, movies, or television shows that have come after Stoker have ever quite picked up on that theme.”
In the movie Van Helsing, of all things, there is a brief bit where Dracula rants at his brides that he feels nothing. Not joy nor sorrow, no hope or love. “I am hollow inside, and I will exist forever.” Admittedly, it’s still a very cheesy movie, but they at least tried to give it some depth.
Actually, Van Helsing is Thirties-style Adventure Pulp, with the titular character as Pulp Hero.
…Dracula rants at his brides that he feels nothing. Not joy nor sorrow, no hope or love. “I am hollow inside, and I will exist forever.”
Because he is dead. The dead do not feel. The dead do not grow. The dead do not change, except to decay. He “exists forever” and can walk and speak and move in Undeath, but he is still dead. And to him, death is permanent.
Calling a priest would make the story end too quick-it IS a novel-and as for the garlic–garlic kills the contagion–kills the vampire virus–just google garlic and see what all it cures….why not the vampire virus? Thus the virus itself makes the vampire shrink from it to protects its viral integrity. Makes perfect medical sense–of a fictional sort!!