Pot-boiler (pot-boil' ur) n. a piece of writing or the like, usually inferior and
uninspired, done quickly for money.
—Webster’s New World Dictionary (2nd College Edition)—
The most frightening aspect of Bram Stoker's Dracula has little to do with the famous figure of that pale, nocturnal, blood-sucking, un-Dead fiend with whom we've all become so fondly familiar. Far more frightening is the fact that, even after a century of steady international publication, Dracula, generally regarded a "potboiler" by the scholars-that-be, ("one of the most successful pot-boilers ever written"), is rarely included in the canon of English Literature — Yes! Literature with a capital "L". Dracula, therefore, is a classic, yet not even close to a Classic for those literary legions who've deemed it a clumsy, inconsistent, overcomplicated assemblage of documents ostensibly written, rewritten, collected and then recollected by "flat, underdeveloped characters" with neither common sense nor, apparently, any writing skills to boot — as evidenced by their use of "painful" puns, their overuse of exclamation marks, and their splitting of infinitives like there's no tomorrow (Maude Ellmann vii).
Yikes! Now that’s scary. (And suddenly the claim that Keats was not killed by disease, but was murdered rather by the critics of his work seems far more plausible).
Oh. But that's not even the scariest part.
The scariest part is the simple fact that even the most avid readers today — even the biggest, most devoted fans of the legendary Count Dracula (and, perhaps, Horror writers and Horror fans themselves) — have never actually taken the time to read Stoker's classic-but-not-Classic novel. They've seen the movies and watched the TV shows, and think they know the story, but they haven't actually read it. Ironically then, Dracula remains forever un-Dead (as whipping boy) to its un-Alive critics and their bloodthirsty breed of twice-shy student-slaves who still have to read it to get out of college.
With this injustice in mind, perhaps it's time, with all due reverence, to finally consider (split infinitive) the story behind that toothy, tan-less Transylvanian who, for over a century now, has thrived in the very bloodstream of our culture!!! (Exclamation marks).
Ah, but there's one slight problem.
The critics, for the most part, were correct in their assessment of Dracula as a novel. It is a clumsy, inconsistent, overcomplicated assemblage of documents ostensibly written, rewritten, collected and then recollected by "flat, underdeveloped characters" without common sense (and, apparently, a total disregard for blood types — recognized by science at the time) who seem unskilled as writers.
The manuscript itself, we learn — both a tool and a weapon of truth, a sort of Vampires for Dummies void of "all needless matter" — is the first weapon of choice for our ragtag group of cardboard heroes. Made up of "unauthentic" documents (journal and diary entries, letters, newspaper clippings, telegrams, notes, a security report, a ship log, and a lunatic's case study of sorts) this structure of an assemblage, a common literary device, was designed specifically as an end-run around the reader's willingness to suspend his disbelief. A device, at the time (1897), which made a lot more sense then than it does today. A device no longer necessary, as ours is culture that now "believes" in vampires — at least we don't need the extra push of this assemblage. Ironically, it's probably because of the very assemblage that we now accept and embrace the very myth our heroes were so hell bent on recording, even though many of us have never actually read the damned thing in the first place.
Our heroes, however, over and over, have read it. Many times. They had to've. Otherwise, even they wouldn't be able to believe what seems to be going on around them. No one would. No one could! It's far too fantastic and illogical. Really, it is.
Made up of a lawyer (insert bloodsucker joke) Jonathan Harker; his wife, Mina Harker ("New Woman" stenographer and collector of said assembled materials); Dr. John Seward, psychiatrist; Dr. Van Helsing, a foreign rare disease specialist with a funny accent; Arthur Holmwood, a wealthy gentleman (financier of our little adventure); and Quincey P. Morris, the quiet American, our heroes, along with this thoroughly read manuscript of truth, will team up and try and save England from the wealthy Count Dracula, a evil Moses-like "stranger in a strange land" who is planning to franchise in London his mysterious Transylvanian "operation".
There are many ways to approach the reading of Dracula. Some critics see it as an attack of the Realist novels, the typewriter serving as a tool of lies. Some see it as the fin de siecle novel, an end of century paranoia fest. Some see it as homophobic or homoerotic or homosocial or homo-lots-of-other-things. Some find Dracula as anti-Judaic, anti-feminist, and anti-all-sorts-of-stuff. Colonialism, post-Colonialism, feudalism, post-feudalism, the list goes on and on. For a book not particularly well-regarded by scholars, it sure is studied a lot by those same scholars.
Hmmm? Interesting.
The best approach to reading it, however, is just to read it. Be fair to Stoker and, perhaps, read it cold, suspending not your disbelief, but your belief in vampires, a belief that likely stems from this work. It's not fair to penalize Stoker in advance for what he has later created.
If you do decide to read it this way, I think you’ll find it a great read, a page-turner that not only you won't want to put down (painful pun), but one that might become absolutely necessary for your own study of the novel and its many forms. Be prepared for mistakes, sure, for illogical happenings, misshapenness and inconsistencies — oh, and lots of bad writing, too. But don’t blame Stoker for these things. Blame the manuscript itself. Blame the typewriter. Hell, blame the assemblage — but don't blame Stoker. After all, by suspending your belief, and not your disbelief, you’ll quickly discover that this material was not written by Stoker at all. Not really. It was written, rewritten, collected and then re-collected by his characters. It's not his fault that they're bad writers.
Read it this way, and you'll find a fabulously cheesy and wonderful work, well worth the effort. And, what's more, you'll discover, indeed, a true Classic of our English Literature.
***All citations are from Dracula by Bram Stoker, Oxford World’s Classic (Maud Ellmann Ed.).
If you like reviews of classic books, check out my review of Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
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Comments
Stoker wrote nothing but drivel before and after Dracula and was hopelessly devoted to a self-centered, over-indulgent theater actor. The fact that he wrote anything that has stood the test of time is amazing in the least. The entire vampire genre is measured against this one tome.
Jerry,
definitely. you are right. it's so interesting to me what hangs around and what disappears. and with the success of "true blood" and "twilight," looks like it'll be coming around again.
frank
I enjoy True Blood but I can't bring myself to read the books and I can't bring myself to go anywhere near "Twillight." I realize that things evolve over time but the way the rules (many set forth by Stoker) for the vampire creature have been broken and twisted - especially in the last 10-15 years or so. The Blade franchise and recent literature have led us to believe that vampires are a different species - not the undead. Even the Lost Boys adhered to many of the rules.
Thanks to this review, I am a little over 1/2 way through the book. I'm thoroughly enjoying it!
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