More Vampires...

There was a time, I think, when vampires' immortality was just a fictional convention-- an aspect of the vampire's figure, rather than its literary function. But as TV networks continue to churn out more and more vampire series', and as the commentary on this phenomena spirals ever-outward, I'm beginning to think there's something more to vampires'... persistence. Anne Rice's character, Louis, of the seminal Interview with the Vampire, now strikes me almost as a kind of meta-character-- a vampire-prophet: the way his presence transcends historical and cultural bounds, shifting in quality as the times themselves shift, while at the same time always reflecting some critical aspect of the society he preys upon. When we consider the ebb and flow of vampires in mass media, as well as how their presence there has developed, the similarity of these two visions are all but clear, and we begin to see just how undying they truly are.

This month's issue of Bookslut contains an article by Jessica Ferri re-examining the Twilight phenomena... yet again, but despite the fact that these commentaries are becoming as redundant as the genre itself, I find that I cannot fault her. Vampires are irresistible. They're sexy, mysterious, and at the same time, deeply iconographic-- a veritable wet dream for critics with a pulse (pun?). After all, it's interesting to look at how they've developed over time. How, in their considerable lifespan, vampires have gone from being the quintessential and morally dubious 'Other', to a virtual Everyman kind of figure; their struggle with bloodlust mirroring our own (supposed) struggle to maintain sexual purity. Such reflections are interesting the first, second, and even the third time we make them, but now, I'm afraid, they are done.

Everyone seems to have some disparaging and urgent thing to say about vampire literature, but frankly, its beginning to sound like the anxious chatter of addicts trying to talk their way out of an addiction. Enough already! (Although I'll admit in writing this, I too am perhaps implicit.)

One thing that does make Ferri's article a bit more interesting, however, than the typical pulp literature debasement, is the attention she pays to Twilight's all-too-human heroine, Bella, comparing her at length to the author's preferred Buffy (i.e. The Vampire Slayer):

Bella is your typical teenage girl, and Meyer wants to emphasize her ordinariness by making her one of the most boring, annoying obstinate heroines ever... Doesn't it say something about women's lib if the dice has rolled from Buffy, who slayed vamps without even breaking a nail, to Bella, who does nothing the entire book but whine to be deflowered by one?

Because it is funny and amusing, I do recommend checking out the full article. But mind you: just this last time. If I ever recommend another article concerning Twilight, or any other vampire-commentary, take it as a sign that I've been compromised and you should at that time cease to listen to anything I have to say. About anything.