Vampires? Oh Yes.

I feel I owe some of you an explanation on vampires, vis. why I read and enjoy Dracula, if not positively rave about it, while I decidedly turn up my nose at the very idea of Twilight. There is, of course, more to it than the latter’s being a “girl’s book.” I read Jane Austen. Hopefully I can gather up my very scattered thoughts and make them intelligible, and perhaps even convincing.

Stories, essentially, tell us how to live. They also entertain us. These are the two greatest points of a story. For a long while I have been part of the school that can’t see why we have to analyze a story so deeply that we take it beyond what the author meant. Can’t we just enjoy it at face value? Enjoy it for the story’s sake? Never mind if it has a moral or a meaning, if it is not an obvious allegory, leave it alone. Don’t dissect it. Then I began to realize that this doesn’t quite hold water. Not all the time. Every story has underlying prepositions imputed consciously or unconsciously by the author, and we need to have some idea of what those are, because, whatever we say, every story we read or watch does affect us in some way or other. I certainly do not mean we must destroy the story to examine its cogs and wheels and veins and atoms. That would rob it of the entertainment. With some stories, such as George MacDonald’s Golden Key, that is impossible. What I mean is we should be aware of what is being subtly suggested to us. We should choose entertainment that influences us for the good.
What does this have to do with Vampires? Some would say to steer clear of them at all costs. They are evil. Read about real stories. Read a biography. Or at least an historical fiction. True. Vampires are evil. Fantasy isn’t real. But they are true. Or, at least, they communicate truths about reality.
In Dracula the Count is portrayed as evil through and through. His victims, once they too become vampires, are damned. Without the choice of whether they want to be evil or not. The book says they cannot enter heaven, that their souls are lost. (It does hint that there might be some sort of redemption at the Judgement, on account of the state of their hearts before they were turned into vampires.) But what is important is that he represents an evil that, like Sauron, needs to be fought against. Because he is evil by his nature. The same is true with dragons, goblins, werewolves, ogres and all those “conveniently ugly creatures.” They may not be allegorical, but they do represent a truth. That truth is that there is real evil in the real world, maybe not so obvious or initially so ugly, but it needs to be fought against all the same. This is where the Devil comes into it. Aren’t we meant to fight him? To fight our own temptations? That is a war. Isn’t it?
Now, Twilight. I confess I have not read the books, nor seen the film. But I have tried to find out about it a little. It seems there are two groups of vampires. One who are traditionally evil, and another who take a more modern, enlightened approach. They are “vegetarian.” That is, they only prey on animals. Not only that, but they are model citizens, protecting humans from the first group, and more importantly, falling in love with them (with the humans, that is.) Hmmm…. that doesn’t sound so awful. Sounds almost noble. Very noble. But remember what vampires traditionally represent? Evil. The Devil. Yet here we have a good vampire. A family of them. I don’t mean to mock this story. It is serious.
Maybe this inversion is put down to originality. But I can’t help but regard it more like to heresy. It seems to hint at dangerous ideas. Something that has always been thought of as evil is being portrayed as good, even desirable. Once again, the line between good and evil is being blurred. How bad can bad be before it is evil? Maybe evil can be tamed, loved and just plain gorgeous. Is that a truth? Can the Devil be tamed? Will he fight against his own kind?
When evil is presented as attractive, don’t we often desire it? What then if the idea of living eternally with the person we love (Apart from God. We make the rules.) is presented to us? In Dracula it is shown to be a terrible alternative. In Twilight it is, I believe, shown in quite a different light, if not at all explicitly. It is a falsehood. But if we instead desire to stand along side the aged Dr. Van Helsing, Frodo, King Peter, Desperaux and all the others and fight evil – both in the world and in our own lives – is that not a truth?

G. K. Chesterton said: “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” But who would want to slay the dragon or the vampire if he/ she is a cute, noble heart throb?

Twelve Red Roses

I found this languishing in a forgotten folder on my computer today. Like most of my stuff, unfinished, but as I can't remember what was meant to happen next, if I ever knew, I don't think I'll get it completed. Sorry about the change in fonts, I can't seem to fix it. It complains about something or other in the Html when I try.

Someone was at the door. Expressing my frustration by means of a series of onomatopoeic exclamations, I shut my book with a resounding clap (it was a 400 page hardcover), rose from my chair and made for the door. Hastily putting on my “about-to-receive-an-unknown-guest” face, I opened the said portal to find an impatient courier upon the step.

“Sebastian Teach?” he snapped, daring me to be anyone else.

“That’s me,” I stammered.

“There’s a bouquet of flowers for you – sign here.” He thrust a technological do-hickey at me.

“A bouquet of what!”

“Flowers.”

I signed. He snatched the whatchamicallit back.

“Flowers?”

“Yes, flowers.”

Observing the conversation to have stagnated, the courier pitched a large, cellophane entombed bouquet at me, leaped into his van and roared backward down the drive. A little old lady with a walking frame shook her fist and hurled bloodcurdling oaths at him as he narrowly missed running her down.

I hurriedly shut the door before my ears were scorched off at the sound of her profane cursing and examined the unexpected garland. There were twelve red roses – blood red.

Who could they be from? A morbid thought hit me like an icy snowball of compacted fear and horror. A girl? Never! “Doesn’t the Post Office screen anything?” I suddenly found new meaning in these words of my sagacious friend Calvin.

In feverish anticipation I drew the customary card from amongst the carmine petals. Tentatively I read the flourished inscription – at least, I tried to. These flowers can't be from a girl, I mused, they might be an incomprehensible barrier to understanding at times, but never so unintelligible as this. There was one word – pistachio.

My mind reeled and staggered in a merry Bacchic dance. I was not used to such enigmatic mail. Voting papers were nothing in comparison.

Beneath this word was a series of numbers that resembled a phone number somewhat. Acting contrary to my nature, I reached for the phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Hello. It's Sebastian Teach speaking, I've just received twelve roses and your number was on the card so...”

There was a gasp on the other end and the sound of someone conversing excitedly in the background came thru the earpiece.

“Are the roses red?” they asked.

“Well, yes, but...”

“And violets are blue. We'll be there in half an hour.”

“What? I just want to know...”

But they had hung up. All I could do now was to wait.

They came in black cars, black suits, black glasses and patriotic ties – all twelve of them. I could swear they stepped from their cars and walked to the door in slow motion. The tallest addressed me.

“Morning,” he said in a voice that reminded me of an elephant seal (don't ask), “Ruben's the name – not my real one – but that's the one you'll call me by.”

He seemed a nice sort of chap. Grabbed me by the collar and chucked me in the car.

As we drove along we passed a red headed youth executing an amazing bicycle stunt over an elderly lady's car. You could tell he was well practiced. But Ruben was unmoved.

“The Boss wants you...."