Varney the Vampire
Jun. 8th, 2011 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rubyprismSo I got around to reading Varney the Vampire, a long, rambling Victorian-era story that was initially serialised in chapters, and has a rather inconsistent and meandering plot.
But was it a good vampire book?
Er... sort of no. But it wasn't awful, either. Nor was it really consistently anything. It had its high points and low points? Most of which had nothing to do with each other. Wikipedia definitely has in mind the book I read, but... er... the part about Clara, and the suicide at Mt. Vesuvius, and the stories about being cursed with vampirism and becoming a Royalist, none of them were actually in the book I read. But the rest of it was. I wonder if I only read part of it, and I would not be entirely surprised if there are multiple definitive editions, or if some of these stories are spinoffs.
Most of the book is deadly serious and involves a lot of florid descriptions of ancient ruins and shrieking maidens with trailing long hair and gentlemen duelling. Especially the duelling. I have learnt more about duels from this book than I ever knew before: the importance of seconds, who has the right to name the time and place... I feel that an entire world of gentlemen and their duels has opened up before me, and now, should I ever be called to take part in a duel, I shall know what to do, and none shall hoodwink me by naming their own place when it should be my right. Anyway, in the middle of this deadly serious book about a worthy family and their honour, there's suddenly a hilarious graveyard scene full of townsfolk and gallows humour and people throwing bricks at each other.
The worthwhile thing to know, at least if one is collecting data about vampire books, is that it seems in some way the spiritual predecessor of Twilight's nice neighbourly family of vampires. Varney is a sympathetic character who has a horror of his own condition, and is often kinder and more merciful than many of the humans; both the narration and his actions go to some length to illustrate this. He's not at all frightening once you hear him speak, and he's a perfect gentleman at all times. While he is not a love interest and always described as ghastly unattractive, one can imagine that if there were any eligible women in the book, someone might have fallen for him. He is one step away from being the romantically attractive sort of vampire, and halfway through the book he ceases to be an antagonist, and turns into a second protagonist who stops bothering the heroes and is more of a nice neighbour who is harassed by angry mobs all the time.
Another thing I find curious is that we never discover whether Varney is actually a vampire; not even he really seems to know. He doesn't drink people's blood, but he comes back to life if he's hurt, and seems miraculously unhurt by deadly blows and shots sometimes. Initially he died and was brought back to life by dubious medical science, according to himself and most of the characters. The book begins without establishing whether he's a vampire except by word of gossip, and it turns out in the end that he's cultivated a reputation as one and believes himself to be one, but isn't really sure. I particularly liked this passage:
"Really, admiral, you do not really still cling to the idea that Sir Francis Varney is a vampyre."
"I really don't know; he clings to it himself, that's all I can say; and I think, under those circumstances, I might as well give him the benefit of his own proposition, and suppose that he is a vampyre."
"Really, uncle," said Charles Holland, "I did think you had discarded the notion."
"Did you? I have been thinking of it, and it ain't so desirable to be a vampyre, I am sure, that any one should pretend to it who is not; therefore, I take the fellow upon his own showing. He is a vampyre in his own opinion, and so I don't see, for the life of me, why he should not be in ours."
But was it a good vampire book?
Er... sort of no. But it wasn't awful, either. Nor was it really consistently anything. It had its high points and low points? Most of which had nothing to do with each other. Wikipedia definitely has in mind the book I read, but... er... the part about Clara, and the suicide at Mt. Vesuvius, and the stories about being cursed with vampirism and becoming a Royalist, none of them were actually in the book I read. But the rest of it was. I wonder if I only read part of it, and I would not be entirely surprised if there are multiple definitive editions, or if some of these stories are spinoffs.
Most of the book is deadly serious and involves a lot of florid descriptions of ancient ruins and shrieking maidens with trailing long hair and gentlemen duelling. Especially the duelling. I have learnt more about duels from this book than I ever knew before: the importance of seconds, who has the right to name the time and place... I feel that an entire world of gentlemen and their duels has opened up before me, and now, should I ever be called to take part in a duel, I shall know what to do, and none shall hoodwink me by naming their own place when it should be my right. Anyway, in the middle of this deadly serious book about a worthy family and their honour, there's suddenly a hilarious graveyard scene full of townsfolk and gallows humour and people throwing bricks at each other.
The worthwhile thing to know, at least if one is collecting data about vampire books, is that it seems in some way the spiritual predecessor of Twilight's nice neighbourly family of vampires. Varney is a sympathetic character who has a horror of his own condition, and is often kinder and more merciful than many of the humans; both the narration and his actions go to some length to illustrate this. He's not at all frightening once you hear him speak, and he's a perfect gentleman at all times. While he is not a love interest and always described as ghastly unattractive, one can imagine that if there were any eligible women in the book, someone might have fallen for him. He is one step away from being the romantically attractive sort of vampire, and halfway through the book he ceases to be an antagonist, and turns into a second protagonist who stops bothering the heroes and is more of a nice neighbour who is harassed by angry mobs all the time.
Another thing I find curious is that we never discover whether Varney is actually a vampire; not even he really seems to know. He doesn't drink people's blood, but he comes back to life if he's hurt, and seems miraculously unhurt by deadly blows and shots sometimes. Initially he died and was brought back to life by dubious medical science, according to himself and most of the characters. The book begins without establishing whether he's a vampire except by word of gossip, and it turns out in the end that he's cultivated a reputation as one and believes himself to be one, but isn't really sure. I particularly liked this passage:
"Really, admiral, you do not really still cling to the idea that Sir Francis Varney is a vampyre."
"I really don't know; he clings to it himself, that's all I can say; and I think, under those circumstances, I might as well give him the benefit of his own proposition, and suppose that he is a vampyre."
"Really, uncle," said Charles Holland, "I did think you had discarded the notion."
"Did you? I have been thinking of it, and it ain't so desirable to be a vampyre, I am sure, that any one should pretend to it who is not; therefore, I take the fellow upon his own showing. He is a vampyre in his own opinion, and so I don't see, for the life of me, why he should not be in ours."
