The obvious way to find out how something works is to study its parts. Hence, machines are taken apart, and organisms are dissected. For this reason, the undying fascination with vampire narratives, which combine the "man vs. monster" and "man vs. self" themes, may not be an entirely perverse preoccupation. After all, these beings (despite their lack of vivacity) are more or less human, qualifying them—as Alexander Pope suggests—for our "proper study." But what exactly is it about the undead, these deconstructed humans, that holds our interest?
For one thing, there is the problem of the role of free will in the transformation of an ordinary human into one of the damned (variations on this point notwithstanding). The stuff of nightmares, facing the permanent loss of God's grace and friendship in a hellish existence with no escape is a very real possibility for anyone with a pulse. The fancy that this fiendish outcome can be effected in an instant by an involuntary bite is perhaps cathartic, enabling us to better appreciate our capacity to choose good or evil.
Another aspect of vampire stories that captures our imagination is their having eluded mankind's doom—the surrender of time through death. This may be the primary glamour of the idea of vampires, rehearsing a very old temptation indeed: "Ye shall be as gods." However, ultimately we know that this escape from mortality has its own horrors. Aside from the gruesome need to feed on humans, vampires are forever trapped in an endless succession of creeping tomorrows, reliving (or at least reĆ«xperiencing) the same ennui.
As monsters, vampires (like Grendel and goblins) are traditionally relegated to the night, further confining them and putting a damper on their insatiable thirst. Along with a crucifix or a stake in the heart, the rays of the sun are lethal to them. This physical intolerance of daylight is emblematic of their moral condition. Incorrigibly gnashing their teeth in the outer darkness, what they cannot bear is the sun of God's justice.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)

