Dracula 

A review of Dracula, by Bram Stoker

Kiran Fane

Good evening, dear reader. Or, if it be not evening when you review this correspondence, then I wish you a very poor morning. This will be a review of Bram Stoker’s well-known work of gothic horror, Dracula. Now, this will not be the book report of some tortured youth. I will not wax poetic about the depth of meaning behind the redness of the curtains. Instead, I will focus on a fundamental question that I believe is too often overlooked when one considers the classics. Is it good? Is it enjoyable to read? And, in the interest of sparing your time, should it prove in short supply, I answer simply, yes.

But I imagine it would not qualify, by most definitions, as a review if I were to state my opinion so basely. First, I feel I must address some issues which can not be avoided. Dracula was written in 1897 and, by extension, suffers from the use of language and ideas that are, frankly, offensive to the modern reader. Thankfully, the book never takes the time to go on at length about such topics, but one must understand ahead of time that the book will contain words or actions that one must simply roll their eyes at. That said, there is some discussion on whether Stoker’s work was intended to be a condemnation of such anti-feminist ideals, supported by the ways in which the narrative punishes those actions, but as I am not expert in the matter, I will confine myself here to a discussion of the work as a literary piece.

Now, we all know the story of Dracula, do we not? Or, at least as I found, we believe we do. Dracula has entered our zeitgeist alongside the likes of the wolf-man or Frankenstein– another character ill-treated by contemporary understanding. But, upon reading the book, I found that to be not truly the case. We understand in our time that Dracula will be a book about a vampire; that much is true. But you must imagine, for the original readers, that was not so. By extension, the tension and mounting dread that permeate the earlier portions of the novel would have been even greater in their time. Indeed, from the imprisonment of Jonathan Harker in Castle Dracula to the decline and death of Lucy Westenra, the novel is an excellent work of horror. And it is delivered to us with such wonderful prose, not through an abundance of grandiloquent words, but rather through Stoker’s almost poetic phrasing. One notable section, told through the journal entries of a doomed ship’s captain, would, on its own, I believe, make a fine account of itself when held against some of the greatest works of Edgar Allen Poe.

That said, there is a fair complaint to be made that the tone of horror does not carry through as strongly as one might wish. Yes, there is some tense fun to be had in deciphering the ravings of a madman alongside Doctors Seward and Van Helsing, but once the parties become fully aware of their mission, the story never quite reaches the heights of its earlier dread. There is an argument to be made that this accurately reflects the fear of the unknown in which this novel is steeped, and how the light of understanding defangs such fear, if you will pardon my expression. Still, I can not help but feel that the story may have been improved by a more expeditious passage between discovery and climax. Here I will note a thing that I find quite enjoyable when reading classical works. Bram Stoker, perhaps aware of the slackening tension, conspires to raise the stakes by means of creating a new threat that strikes at the hearts and souls of our characters. To me, there is something quite familiar about looking so plainly into the mind of a “classical author" and seeing there the exact same struggles with pacing and conflict that the modern writer will well know.

We will speak more on the matter of familiar pitfalls momentarily. But first, allow me to here express a few of my less collected thoughts about the work. Dracula, to my surprise, contains a fair bit of humor if one cares to look for it. In one section, presented in the point of view of Van Helsing, a non-native speaker, the doctor is recounting his conversation with some English dockhands and says, paraphrasing, “They spoke much of bloom and blood.” At first, this line perplexed me. Though I appreciated its cadence, I nearly dismissed it as simply another effort by Stoker to inject an air of menace through his word choice. But, as any reader who has had a ‘bloody good time’ in England can attest, this little turn of phrase deserved the outburst of real laughter that it elicited in me. There is also the ever-so-small missed opportunity that presents itself near the end of the novel. As we approach the final confrontation, I noted with a smile that the journal entries were closing in on October thirty-first, Samhain or All Hallows Eve. I thought, quite gleefully, for a moment that Bram Stoker was going to bring his story to its culmination on that momentous day, but, alas, he did not. Instead, the novel closes on November seventh, a day that, to my knowledge, holds no special cultural significance relating to tales of the macabre.

Now, from that diversionary holiday, we return to the pitfall previously discussed. There is nothing more vital in a story than its ending, and here is where I feel Dracula falls most short of its potential. The conclusion to this slow and ominous tale comes at a dead sprint, if you will pardon a second terrible jest. Our heroes go dashing after their foe, engage in a violent conflict with a group of unknowing accomplices to the Count’s machinations, and then put an end to Dracula without so much as a word spoken. For such a villain, whose presence and power built higher and higher with each scene he commanded, this ignominious ending felt, in a way, undeserved. Thinking back, in this moment, I can not tell you what the Count’s final words in the novel were. Perhaps this tragic waste of potential is a conscious decision, or perhaps there could be no satisfying end to such a villain. In either case, my disappointment serves, in my mind, only to highlight what a truly memorable character Count Dracula is.

I believe I would be hard-pressed to find anyone who does not know Dracula. I might even be sorely tested simply to find anyone without some level of interest in the quintessential vampire novel. I hope this review might instead reach those who have told themselves that Dracula is too aged a work to be enjoyed in the modern age. I am here to confirm your suspicions. Dracula, both the novel and the character, are utterly timeless. I highly recommend that any who can, should read this book.