Dracula

 

"...masses of sea fog came drifting inland--white, wet cloud, which swept by in ghastly fashion, so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort of imagination to think that the spirits of those lost at sea were touching their living brethren with the clammy hands of death" (66).

There are few genres that I enjoy as much as gothic horror. There is something so striking about the contrast between English formality and the haunting monster-laden shadows of nightmares. Like Frankenstein, Dracula addresses social and cultural issues of its time by dramatizing the battle between good and evil. In a world where the demons are physical entities that can be struck down with garlic and stakes, the enemy is satisfyingly clear and conquerable. The heroics of a few intrepid vampire hunters are inspiring to those who may fight against the more hidden ills of society.

However, there is also great value in the method and form of the novel, notwithstanding the historical significance. Dracula and his plan to infiltrate England are deliciously horrid; the descriptions of his villainous castle and the women he has cursed to spend eternity with him in perpetual purgatory align perfectly with the stuff of Victorian revulsion and fear. And of course, the romance between Mina and Jonathan contributes the tragically ideal background for a passionate journey of retribution.

1. "I didn't think of it at the time; but when she went away I began to think, and it made me mad to know that He had been taking the life out of her" (240).

Unique format. The simplicity of the formatting of Dracula adds so much to its effect. Journal entries, newspaper clippings, and telegrams piece together the story from different perspectives and adds an immediacy to the tale, also emphasizing the emotional impact inherent in reading a person's intimate thoughts. In all practicality, Stoker made a unique choice that has been duplicated in many modern novels because of its relatability and success.

2. "He throws no shadow...He can come in mist which he create [sic]...He come on moonlight rays as elemental dust...He can see in the dark" (205).

The villain. There are some villains that stand out above the others. In my opinion, they adhere to a specific brand of cold, barely restrained cruelty. These blackguards are masters of manipulation, quietly percolating in their hatred for humanity, and you know that they could burst forth with unfettered violence if pushed too far. Darth Vader, Maleficent, Sauron, Lady Macbeth, and the King of the Undead himself. 

Dracula is a brilliant villain. He is first introduced before we know that it is him, taming rabid wolves with a commanding hand. He is then presented as a demure and accommodating, if rather strange, host to Jonathan. Until he locks Jonathan in a room and refuses to let him leave. And then crawls down the side of the house like a spider on all fours. And materializes from dust motes. And sleeps, during the day, in a coffin full of dirt. Not all is as it seems in Transylvania.

For most of the rest of the novel, we catch only glimpses of Sir Dracula. He is seen leaning over Lucy and sucking the life from her veins, dressed all in black on a street corner of London, and observed through Mina's hypnotic connection to his unconscious mind. It is not until the last chapter that we see him once again, in his full glory, seething at being foiled in his plans and foaming at the mouth with blood. He is scary because he is truly dangerous and horrifying, but also because of the way he fades into the background, becoming the unseen terror that you know will bring impending doom.

3. "Then I caught the patient's eye and followed it, but could trace nothing as it looked into the moonlit sky except a big bat, which was flapping its silent and ghostly way to the west" (94).

Genre. Overall, I just love true gothic horror. There is nothing quite like it. Culturally, the genre has left a great impact on our modern media landscape, although arguably not enough. Too much contemporary horror relies on shock and gore to thrill the audience. I think that constitutes a lazy brand of horror, as it is too easy to walk away and forget. There is no lasting impression left in your mind, and the creativity and cleverness that it takes to invent an entirely new nightmare is severely lacking. 

I love that Dracula is a classic with unique character and a genuinely engaging read. In college, I was part of group that performed a dance version of Dracula, and it was one of my favorite performance experiences. We were given a copy of Dracula to read and educate ourselves during the rehearsal process, but of course, I elected to commit civil disobedience and avoid the book at all costs. Now, having read it on my own time, I am reminded of the many excellent aspects of the story that I enjoyed as a performer. 

Do I wish I had read the novel all those years ago? Maybe. Making a point was very important to me at the time. Somehow, I think the characters of Dracula would've supported me in this endeavor. But I am glad to recommend it now. 

Wuthering Heights

 

"It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff, now; so he shall never know how I love him...he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" (59).

On my journey through the classics, few have disappointed me. I have found most of them, both the ones that I remember from my academic career and those that I do not, to be impactful and also (shockingly) rather likable as well. However, there are a group of outliers. Wuthering Heights seems to be one of those classics in which I can see the reasoning behind its endurance as an important piece of literature, but I also question the sanity of readers who laud it as enduringly admirable and exemplary. I can't say that I hated the book, but at the same time, I would prefer to never read it again. 

I was never assigned Wuthering Heights as a student, so I don't have the benefit of prior engagement with the text to influence my opinion on it. Perhaps there are pros to this approach, as I was able to come in without any expectations, which is relatively rare for many of these novels. The main analytical feedback that I have seen or heard has to do with the promotion of Heathcliff and Catherine's romance, as proof that they exemplify some ideal relationship. All I have to say in response to those who think this way is, Have you read the book?? The Pinterest posts of quotes indicating that this couple have any qualities worth imitating hit so differently now that I have read their context.

1. "Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then" (124)!

Romanticizing unhealthy relationships. Let's just get right into the meat of my issues with this novel. I often refer to what I have termed "The Notebook Effect" when discussing the problems with modern iterations of romantic relationships. The crux of this phenomenon is the glorification of poor behavior or toxicity, from the perspective that the relationship is somehow more passionate or meaningful for being codependent and emotionally unhinged. In The Notebook, the main characters are portrayed as constantly fighting, verbally and sometimes physically abusive, and complete opposites in terms of upbringing and life goals. When the female love interest cheats on her fiancé (who happens to be a stable, mature, and tragically boring individual), the act is exonerated as a necessary return to the man with whom she was always destined to end up.

I will perhaps have to adjust my vernacular to now include "The Wuthering Heights Effect," as this novel is just as bad. The whole plot is full of selfish and harmful choices compounding on one another while the main characters escape culpability for their actions because they are supposedly in love. Isn't it romantic how, even when married to other people, the couple finds a way back to each other? Isn't it meaningful that they portray extremely selfish and borderline narcissistic personalities, but yet still cling to a codependent and boundary-less relationship? Don't you want to imitate an emotional attachment that endures beyond the grave, to the extent that the living parties suffer within an all-consuming obsession until they themselves perish?

Um...no?

Why does the culture promote these types of relationships? Maybe it's because they make more money in media, whether written or filmed, than the healthy and normal alternative. Regardless, I find them increasingly frustrating to observe.

2. "...it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him--you fight against that devil, for love, as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him" (103)!

"Victim of circumstances" mentality. Here is a continuation of the prior point. Wuthering Heights is narrated by the housekeeper as she relays the story of her employers to a man who has rented one of the adjacent houses. Thus, we have an unreliable source who gives her own opinion on situations as readily as the actual facts. I like this perspective for two reasons: the choice highlights a sense of mystery and strangeness as though we are also outsiders looking into the story, not able to fully understand or interfere, and it also provides an interesting bias that adds layers to the character and plot development.

Though I may appreciate the narrative choice as a thematic element, I do not enjoy the resulting morals revealed to the reader. It would seem that the author is trying to help the reader to empathize with the characters, even as they make questionable and even murderous decisions throughout. Ellen, the housekeeper, continually makes excuses for nearly everyone, even when she still condemns their actions. Heathcliff is abusive and violent because he was mistreated as a child, Catherine is selfish and vindictive because of her ethereal spirit and mistreatment as a child, Linton is verbally cruel and self-obsessed because he is physically ill and mistreated (you guessed it) as a child.

At what point do we start holding people accountable for their actions, regardless of whether or not they were disadvantaged by some situation out of their control? Even though Ellen does openly criticize and lament the behaviors of those around her, they are so consistently shown in light of their treatment by others that the resulting actions are painted as almost inevitable. The book seems to be saying: Yes, it is wrong to be cruel, narcissistic, and deceitful, but people are always the result of their environments and can't necessarily be held fully responsible. 

3. "I...listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth" (248).

Literary value. I do believe, despite my dislike for the general characterization and underlying moral values of the text, that there is literary value in the writing. The historical context, turbulent characters, and artistic composition all speak to the talent of the author. Emily Brontë's critics and readers were convinced that the writer must be a man, as the subject matter was considered too intense and crude to have come from the delicate mind of a woman. Clearly, she was not afraid to write on darker and more sinister topics that belied resistance from her contemporaries. These aspects I respect greatly, and this novel being the lone publication of her short life, it is all the more worthy of analysis to determine the impetus of the different literary elements.

Do I consider this a profound and important piece of British literature? Yes. Wuthering Heights certainly provides the grounds for some very interesting conversations about characterization and the psychology of anti-heroes. I'm not sure that I will be treading through its pages any time soon, but I do consider the time well-spent, even though my general dislike for the novel is (I'm guessing) abundantly clear. Read it if you are curious, but otherwise, I believe there are other novels that achieve the same effect with less frustrating techniques.