What you eat, what you remember, how you survive.
Last week I began to examine the questions of existence and self which vampires have been used to explore in fiction, mostly through the narratives of Dracula and a couple related works. I’ll go into more detail on a variety of those themes today, as I wrap up this subject for the time being.
A Crimson Future - Generated with AI
Life at what cost?
A question at the core of many sympathetic vampire characters is simply: how do they justify their continued existence, when they must feed on blood to survive?
Some stories are happy to ignore this question, because their characters may be likable but are by no means morally good. What we do in the Shadows – both film and TV show – makes plenty of black comedic jokes around the murderous nature of its characters, though the rare moments when that indiscriminate violence is shown on screen do carry real horror.
Anno Dracula takes a different approach, emphasizing the ability of vampires to drink only a portion of blood. In that world where vampirism is widespread and accepted, waiters in night-friendly establishments frequently have taps running directly from their veins. Being fed on by a vampire is a social norm and pleasant in its way; but more on that later.
Another direction, explored perhaps the most thoroughly in Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person – a fantastic Canadian film available on Crave – is the vampire seeking to survive without directly feeding on humans. She is conflicted throughout the film about sustaining her own life at the cost of the lives of others.
These stories generally don’t allow for partial feeding, and see protagonists instead living mostly off of stolen medical blood bags. Of course, their morality and creativity are tested once those resources dwindle.
This question drives at the very heart of the human condition: we also cannot survive without consuming other life forms or their products. Haven’t we all made the choice to either live with what we are (as in WwditS), or do our best to consume ethically (as in the other stories mentioned)?
The final scene of Humanist Vampire reminds me of the respect held by Indigenous Peoples toward the buffalo and other life. On the other end of the spectrum, stories of tyrannical vampires who would keep humans as cattle are eye-opening reminders of our own fairly horrific food industry.
Cassidy from Preacher, by Soo Lee
Aside from having one of the best and bloodiest introductory scenes on TV, Proinsias Cassidy from Preacher is striking for his relationship with his vampirism. Perpetually shunned and hunted, Cassidy has no qualms with a survival rooted in violence yet can continually be seen looking for (and being denied) greater meaning than simple existence. In a show with a million varied and cruel evils, being among the least makes him a fairly tragic figure at times. Plus the umbrella is hilarious – just keep Starr away.
The Precarity of Memory
Although not the first aspect of vampires anyone would think of, some stories portray them as creatures defined by memory – stolen or lost.
Anno Dracula and other tales have the souls, minds and memories of victims drained by the vampire through blood. This is narratively useful and interesting, adds to the underlying framework of the world and is symbolic both in the draining of life and the unholy denial of an afterlife.
The fourth Anno Dracula book even has multiple characters’ souls fighting for control of the body which consumed them, like the genetic memories experienced by Alia in Dune. Usurped control is also a distinct possibility in the roleplaying game Vampire: The Masquerade, when absorbing the powers of a far more powerful and experienced elder – in all likelihood, your temporary victory will only amount to the elder consuming your mind from within.
Then there is Thousand Year Old Vampire, a single-player role playing game which uses dice and journaling to tell a tale of ageless existence. The game presents a narrative for you to engage with, but severely limits the number of experiences you can ever remember. This means that even you will forget your heroic deeds or horrific crimes even as the mortal world does, and that in order to learn and grow from an experience you will likely lose another defining aspect of yourself.
What does it even mean to exist, when memory itself is so ethereal? Learning from our mistakes is a fundamental aspect of humanity and even evolution. To operate without it is to lose reason and mindfulness, driving forward on primal need without a care for consequences. What we do in the Shadows features two ancient vampires (The Sire and Petyr) who have devolved far from their original humanity. Even Dracula requires a restart in the Anno Dracula series, having grown weary and bloated after centuries of rule.
Both of these ideas ultimately reflect the fragility of our own minds and personalities. As I concluded in my transhumanism series (check it out for more details), mindfulness is key to maintaining our sense of self and not being washed away in the fast-paced current of society. Whether staying true to ourselves in the face of social pressure or learning from past mistakes in new circumstances, mindfulness may be the human element which these vampires lack.
The Invisible Self
What does it mean to see nothing in the mirror? It is a staple of modern vampire stories that they are eternally unable to see their own reflection – many of which extend the phenomenon to having their image captured by cameras.
One interesting parallel is the story of Medusa, cursed by the goddess Athena into a monstrous form incapable of surviving a glimpse of her own reflection – more on further parallels there in a moment. This curse upon vanity is appropriate for any vampire story where luxury and elegance are presented as synonymous with the undead condition. Vampire: The Masquerade codifies this for its Clan Lasombra, the only vampires who cast no reflections in that setting.
More often, this trait is taken to reflect vampires’ soulless nature – implying the creature is only the echo or husk left behind by the death of the person they were in life. This can be fascinating in combination with the issues of memory discussed earlier, since vampires often grow and change in very different ways to the living. Their descent over time toward creatures of primal hunger and violence certainly evokes a soulless existence.
As I mentioned toward the end of last week’s post, Anno Dracula frequently contemplates the relationship between vampirism and art, often concluding that the undead can only offer pale imitations of their creativity in life. That series also sees its vampires’ reflections on a spectrum from fully visible to utterly absent, depending on their bloodline. I don’t believe there is a correlation between those with reflections and those who maintain their creative spark – suggesting that they have kept their souls – but it’s easy to imagine.
Ultimately, I think the theme of reflections can once again tie into our self-perception, mindfulness and identity. Strip away the supernatural and this is about the experience of not recognizing – or simply not liking – what we see when we look in the mirror. By accepting and attending to who we are and what we’re doing, maybe we can hold onto our souls for a little longer.
The Vampire’s Kiss
Hopefully the many vampiric traits and allegories I’ve explored so far have been sufficient context to discuss how they relate to sex, drugs and rock n’ roll (well, listen to the playlist for that last one).
Often present but unremarked in vampire stories is the bliss experienced by the victim of a vampire’s bite. Narratively, this trait reflects the tendency of venomous predators paralyzing their prey – suggesting a fascinating kind of evolution for vampires. Thematically, it is anything that offers temporary pleasure at the cost of long term consequences: a dangerous drug high, an exciting but toxic relationship, you get the gist.
Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3, by washanapple
This is why Anno Dracula depicts feeding as socially acceptable and why Vampire: The Masquerade is a game focused heavily on relationships over time. The latter even makes it possible for the vampire to lick the bite wound closed, erasing the experience from the memory of their victim and leaving only a blissful haze. In some cases, the feeling is even deeply addictive.
It can be an intense and scary subject, but what is fiction for if not trying to shed light on and understand these issues? A one-time loss of blood can be disrupting and disorienting for victims, and anything more gets dangerous quickly. Whether alive but wasting away, dead and drained or turned into a vampire, the allegorical consequences don’t reflect much optimism about the real ones.
The myth of Medusa is an especially dark parallel here. A mortal woman who had ‘an affair’ (many authors question whether consent was involved – Natalie Haynes gives a great outline of this in Pandora’s Jar) with the god Poseidon in the temple of Athena, Medusa is cursed by the goddess to be shunned and feared until she is slain as a side quest by Perseus (Haynes’ book introduced me to an alternate statue depicting Medusa’s victory and I love the contrast between the two and the symbol the latter became).
Medusa might as well be a vampire story, with a victim ‘surviving’ but losing everything. Addiction and abusive relationships rarely leave their victims happy and whole, and vampire stories reflect the devastating possibilities of those long-term effects.
See the Light
To end this series on a positive note, let’s talk about redemption. It’s exceedingly rare that a vampire is offered such a chance, more often ending in heroic self-sacrifice or simply doing their best to exist ethically like in Humanist Vampire. This overall trend might reflect the idea that they are without souls and incapable of real change, but more likely springs from the small number of good vampires.
From IMDB
I am given to understand that other stories have explored the topic of returning to humanity, but I’ll stick to Vampire: The Masquerade’s take today.
In the game’s “World of Darkness”, Golconda is a mythical state of enlightenment wherein a vampire effectively regains their humanity. Achieving it requires living as a saint, while fighting not just simple human impulses but the horrifying temptations of vampirism. The game doesn’t even give players exact rules for the process; it is meant to be personal to the player, storyteller and their group.
The fact that escaping the vampiric curse and returning to humanity requires a higher moral standard than actual most humans possess is no error. So many vampire stories depict objectively decent people forced into horrible situations. While working on this series I read a blog post and review which explored the What we do in the Shadows franchise as metaphorical of the immigrant and marginalized minority experience.
Making these characters relatable is essential to getting audiences to engage with these stories, but it also adds a lot of value by safely exploring these issues through the lens of fiction and entertainment.
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Any vampire traits or stories I missed? Please let me know, I’d love to continue feeding my craving for these gems.
Thanks for reading ♥️
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