Seasoned

Tonight was the premier of Season 2 of True Blood on HBO. Before I get into my thoughts about the episode, let me just say that I had a moment of facing just how simple my life has become. I sat in front of the tv about 2 minutes before the scheduled start time - wanting to be there to make sure that Tivo captured it, of course! - and realized that I had a shit-eating grin plastered on my face from ear to ear. There was no else around, mind you, I was simply that happy in my anticipation.

Well, anyway, I wasn't disappointed.

There were a lot of bits and piece to chew on and I'll need to watch it again to get a sense of the things I want to focus on for our discussions here. Who or what is that woman who has Tara in her thrall? Were those highlighting foils in Eric's hair?! Is Bill still withholding something from Sookie? So many thrills and escapades to wend our way through.

For tonight, though, I was struck by how different it is to be watching a second season rather than a first. Remember last year when we waited for several episodes to see if Sookie, a human, could actually be safe acting upon her attraction to Bill, a vampire? No matter how compelling he seemed, we held in reserve that anxiety of "but he's a vampire, you can't really trust him, can you?" And now, most of that anxiety has been shoved aside and, instead, we're worried that they won't make it as a couple. (Okay, I'm not sure we can ever fully put aside the niggling voice that says, "Hey, he's a vampire. Something has to go wrong somewhere down the line, right?" but we've definitely shifted.)

While so many things are buzzing around my head, there is one scene that is prominently plastered on my consciousness: the love scene in which Sookie so comfortably offers her neck to Bill. He gives her a little love bite - we really can't call it a nip when it's approached so voraciously, can we? First, we're in Season 2 and him biting her is no longer shocking. Still unsettling, perphaps, but not shocking. We've shifted out of our plane of reality and into the True Blood universe, letting our imaginations just go with it. We're seasoned with True Blood spice already.

Still, Alan Ball et al, never let us get too comfortable. They're masterful at the shock factor. Pushing things farther and farther along. So, this time, we don't just see Bill bite Sookie - taking communion - we then see him move up and kiss her while he still has blood in his mouth. The blood drips into her mouth and down onto the sheets. She doesn't flinch at this, so it's seem as though they've been there before. (I'm not sure when, since Season 2 picks up in the same moment Season 1 left off.) Still, we haven't seen this and I was definitely squeamish about it. I recoiled, reminding myself that it's fake.

So, in our exploration of the use of the vampire metaphor in Anglo-Saxon culture, what is this about? I don't have any concrete thoughts, yet. There is a scene earlier where Sookie is talking to her brother, Jason. He says to her that when you love someone, you have to love the bad parts of them, too. Otherwise it's not love. He's not aware of what Sookie is coming to terms with regarding Bill. She's just learned that he was forced to turn a human into a vampire as a punishment for taking a vampire life while protecting her. She's also just learned that he murdered her Great-Uncle after she confided in him about the fact that this man had sexually molested her as a child. These aren't exactly your ordinary "bad" sides that one has to figure out how to love.

Of course, nothing about True Blood is ordinary. We have vampires, shapeshifters, a telepath and who knows what else. The action is taking place is the no-longer sleepy backwater of Northern Louisiana with all the attendant fake accents and kitsch. From the opening credits, to deceptive trailers (have we learned, yet, that whatever you think you see in the upcoming scenes is not likely what you expect?) to the hard-hitting sensational closing scenes, True Blood is intended to send the dial on your inner compass spinning around searching for True North. You have to put all your norms aside and find out the correlating compass points within the magnetic poles of this other universe.

Alrighty then. My compass is spinning. I'm going to take a little time to see if it can point to anything in the next day or two. Meanwhile, I'll be looking forward to the next episode to see what happens with Lafayette in that basement, Tara at that shrine to Pan, Jason at Bibile camp and so much more. Spinning or not, I'm drawn to the magnetic pull.

Meta-Vampire

I've been reading a lot of vampire books lately as part of my research for these writings. (and, now I want a Kindle with all it's neat little features like bookmarking and notetaking. But I diverge....) It's hard to know whether these books are going to be to my liking or not before diving in. I'm intruigued with our fascnination for these characters, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like a story simply because it has a vampire in it. In fact, it may be that the majority of the books are simpy boring to me.

What has happened, though, in reading so many of the books and thinking about why I like some and why I don't like others is that I've realized there are genres of vampire stories. Not to be confused with the realization that there  now seem to be vampire stories in almost every genre of book. That is, we now have the detective novel with vampire, the romance novel with vampires, and, of course, the erotica vampires, the action drama with vampires, etc. (I'm sure there will be a self-help book out featuring vampires any time now!)

Beyond these genres of literature, there is the meta-genres of vampire tales. Have you noticed? In "They Thirst" we have the vampire horror story where all vampires are pure evil and they exist for no other reason but to prey on humans. In fact, in this one, the vampires have finally gotten their act together and are on the verge of ridding the planet of the human race. But of course, those plucky humans with all their ingenuity and spirit, no matter how close to the apocalypse they come, muster the resources to triumph. In these stories, there is a lot of action - usually full of gratuitous blood and gore - and one or more magnificent heroes to lead us to the promised land.

Call me erudite, but "yawn." So predictable. So simplistic. These are the books that put me to sleep within paragraphs. I've never been the "rah, rah, kill the enemy" type and these vampires aren't going to turn me.

There's a genre where humans are a negligible part of the story. All vampire stories are fantasy, but these tend to be ultra-fantasy where humans either don't exist at all or they're minor props because, well, vampires do have to eat. The "Underworld" films are like this. A universe of lychens (werewolves) versus vampires. I think we see some humans as victims in the first film, and maybe as props in some scenes in the second film, but by the third it seemed they just couldn't see the point of bothering with a human presence.

Whether I find these stories interesting or not depends on what genre of fantasy film they are. If it's just the action, well then, we're back to the former comments. If they're more of an archetypal allegory, it depends on how well it's done. Because once we remove the humans from the story, it's actually just another human story. That is, the fact that all the characters are fantastic neutralizes the symbolism of their fantasma and puts all the characters on the same level, so it might as well just be a story about humans.

Next we have one I find intriquing, though necessarily of higher quality. These are the stories where all the humans are so bad, that the vampire characters are actually the admirable, desirable people. I recently finished "Hotel Transylvania", the first book in the Saint-Germain series. In it, the female protagonist is a young woman visiting her aunt in 1740s Paris. Her aunt has been tasked with keeping her away from the unsavory enemy of the girl's father. Which she does. However, it turns out that none of the humans in all of the society around the aunt are savory. They're all satanic sadists. So, of course, the safest, purest of heart, and most valiant man of all happens to be a vampire. I think the author needs to broaden her social experience and find some nice people. We're not all evil. So, I found this little hard to swallow. My willing suspension of disbelief lost it's will and came crashing down looking for a warm smile to bask in.

So, which stories *do* I like? It probably won't surprise you to learn that I prefer the genre where the simplistic lines of good vs. evil are rubbed over with a smudge stick. I mean, where's the fresh insigh to be gained from "humans good, vampires bad." How are we supposed to consider grappling with our dark side if we're told all humans are evil, so give it up and hope you can become something else. No, I prefer the more complex construct where you have to be willing to dig beyond the veneer to see the subtle to high-contrast shadings of dark and light in each character. I guess you call it the "don't judge a book by its cover" genre. Though, it's more than that which I seek. I seek stories of seeking. These are the stories that are mining for diamonds of truth with a magnifiying glass, recognizing all the while that I might see one facet of the diamond with my magnifier while you're seeing another with yours. In these stories, the vampire is a facet of the human truth. Not some separate evil enemy.

This is what make True Blood so compelling. Those vampires aren't all the same. With the advent of synthetic blood, those with better natures can actually redeem themselves and let those natures shine. Meanwhile, there are humans that are despicable. Some committing acts more heinous and with less morality than any of the vampires. Now, that's life or larger than life. Here, the story is using the vampire as a symbol or something more complex than evil - the vampire is our passion. Passion ranging from unbridled to fully bit-trained.

In that genre, there is an entry that I am currently enthralled by. The series is called "The Maker's Song". The first book is "A Rush of Wings." I won't give a lot away, because you really should read them, but the author added layers to the metaphor here by introducing angels. Like any good entry in this genre, its not clear who's good and who's bad. You have to be ready for the journey of getting to know the characters and seeing what unfolds. I've found it a very satisfying journey, thus far. (I've just completed the second book.)

So, most of the novels with vampires seem to fall in these four genres. I wish someone would label them as such so that I don't waste my time with ones that are all blood and gore, or the ones where humans are irredeemable. Alas, I'll just have to wend my own way through that.

Of course, these labels wouldn't have helped in filtering Twilight. It seems to be in a genre all its own. Twilight's a Romance series. It doesn't paint all humans as bad or good. Nor does it paint all vampires with one stroke. Though, it does paint the vast majority of vampires with one stroke and it makes it seem pretty challenging to be a "good" vampire. Still, the female protagonist, who is surrounded by plenty of good humans only wants to become a vampire. There's not really any explanation for why being human isn't acceptable. She simply doesn't want to deal with the emotional pain she carries from her family background.

When we read these books we have to realize that the construct of the story tells us something about the author. Or something about the author might explain the construct of the story. In the case of Twilight, the author is Mormon. If you substitue Mormon for human and The Rest of Society for vampire, you get a sense that the author might be miserable in her Mormon environs but thinks The Rest of Society is full of frightening, exotic predators. Yet, she dreams of having the chance to meet that one exotic outside who will offer her shelter and eventually turn her. It's the only thing I can imagine that gives the Twilight construct any useful meaning. And may be why I found the first book infuriating. It was the opposite of what I love, which is the willingness to dig into the muck of the human experience and come to terms with our complex natures and continue reaching for our higher selves no matter how far to the dark side we've gone.

Bram Stoker writes the template for this when he has Lucy plead to her fianceé and the rest of the posse to destroy Dracula out of compassion, remembering that they are not kiiling an evil being, but rather releasing a good soul from an evil shell. As the godfather of the the vampire myth in modern Angle-Saxon culture, Stoker's Dracula is like a gospel. All these attempts to use the vampire as some caricaturish icon of immutable evil (or to portray the humans as that) seems blasphemy to me. Boredom is blasphemy, after all, isn't it?

The Age of the Vampire

Two trails of thought are wending their ways through my brain regarding the presence of vampire stories on our culture. They are related. One has to do with the era in which the vampire becomes a strong presence in our literature and the timing of the waves of interest that have followed. That is, The Age of the Vampire, culturally speaking. The other is the chronological age at which we depict vampires. Let's start with the latter, shall we? I imagine this will be, at least, a 2-part exploration. (Of course, there are always more depths to plummet, but we'll begin here.) (And, yes, I know I didn't follow up on the question of what's eating at Bill in that first kiss scene with Sookie. Will get back to that, I promise.)

Have you ever noticed that most of our vampires are young? The characters predominaly range in age from about 16-30. Even Bill Comptom (True Blood) is only 30. Sookie remarks at one point that he looks older and he tells her that "life was harder then." Giving a sense that he had lived through a lot even before becoming a vampire. Bill's seeming maturity is unusual in our vampire lore. At least currently. The original Dracula was not young. When Jonathan Harker first meets his host in Transylvania, he matter-of-factly reports that he is an old man.

Still, our vampires aren't too young. Even in the construct of an evil world of vampires, it is considered an abomination to "turn" a young child. It was a shocking aspect of the Ann Rice novel, but is rarely depicted at all. I guess even vampires have limits. While I think that the authors and creators of the character may have limits regarding cultural sensitivity, it's interesting that no matter the level of amorality assigned to their fictional vampiric societies, it's near universal that "turning" children is simply not done. As amoral creatures, ti can't be a moral dilemma for vampires. It's something else. We get a sense of that something else when we consider the other end of the spectrum.

While we don't see child vampires, neither do we see elderly vampires. (Generally speaking. There have been cases where vampires have aged - see The Hunger - but this is a rare exception.) So, the whole of vampire society is between 16 and 30, then. Children and the elderly may be preyed upon, but never "turned". Why?

The obvious answer is that the vampire represents sexuality. We don't like to think about older people being sexual. Thankfully, we're not looking to sexualize children. So, we depict all of our vampires in the sexually potent age range. Is that all there is to it? Have we really been this fixated on vampires, for so long, and in so many variations, simply because they're sexually charged? If so, it seems pathetic. I know that, in many ways, our mainstream culture has become vapid, but I still thinks there's more to why this particular metaphor is so compelling to us. One thought I have is that the sexuality is itself a symbol. A symbol of power. An ironic symbol of power.

Read Harker's description of Dracula again. Go ahead, go back up and read it. In Dracula, the vampire is old and, I don't know about you, but I'm not picturing an attractive man when I read that description. The dashing vampire is a more recent invention. Still, Dracula had a powerful impact in his day and is the foundation for nearly every vampire story written since. So, the metaphor wasn't just about sexuality. Certainly, Dracula could mesmerize his victims and lure them into an intimate act of communion. But was the story about the sex? Or was it about power?

Dracula was stronger than normal humans. Faster. He could steal a woman from under her fiancé's nose. In one scene, Dracula has bitten Mina while Jonathan sleeps in the same room. Dracula's powers makes the other men seem impotent. Interesting that we depict someone with such power as evil. Interesting that we're fixated on stories about that. Also interesting that whether or not a vampire is evil has become more ambiguous lately.

I find irony in the realization that we are fixated on these powerful characters who leave us feeling relatively powerless. It also seem ironic to see sexuality as a metaphor for power. Certainly, the energy of sexuality feels powerful. Does that mean we are powerful when we generate it? I ask because the inability to control ourselves when those sexual hormones get going is the oldest story in human history. Innumerable people have let their lives be destroyed for the sake of sex. Is that what it is to be powerful? Of course, the idea here is that the vampire has mastered the power. But if you can't go out in the daylight and you're so vulnerable to destruction if discovered where you're sleeping, it's an awfully precarious life. Also, so many of the vampire characters are lonely. Most often they have to trick people into joining them. It's an awful lot like Zeus. Funny how men are always writing these supposedly powerful characters who can't attract a woman in a straightforward way, based on their own merits.) How powerful is that?

Perhaps the fascination is about what it is to have power. What to do with power. What sacrifices must one make if one wants power. We can explore the difference of having power over versus being powerful with others. (Dracula is destroyed by a team working together.) Does absolute power corrupt absolutely? Is it innately evil to have too much power? If someone with power lives long enough is he sobered and wise with his power or on a continual projection of increased coldness and savagery? What might make the difference? Are we exploring whether to pursue power and/or how to manage it?

If it's all about power, why do vampires have to be between 16 and 30? Dracula was old. He wasn't attractive. His power derived from his knowledge and experience and his well-manored ability to be charming. Oddly, there would be a sense of security with someone who knows how to navigate the big, bad world. A woman might be compelled to him for this worldliness, not his polished biceps, gelled hair and chiseled jaw. The reader is not drawn to Dracula because we never meet him directly, so we can only guess as to what would cause Lucy and Mina to fall prey to him so willingly. Bill Compton, on the other hand, has some of these charactertistics. Okay, he's not ugly. (Though, I doubt I would look twice if I saw the actor walking down the street. I don't find him particularly physically attractive.) But he's worldly from his many years walking the Earth. He expresses more wisdom and sense than any of the human characters. His core strength is not derived from his sexuality, his sexual appeal is derived from his core strengths. Once you get to know Bill, he's profoundly attractive. (Well, except for that brooding thing. sheesh, that could get boring.) This is different from many of the vampires depicted today. And Bill is different from Dracula, because it is suggested that we consider that he is not evil.

Still, Bill possesses a different appeal from the vapidly handsome vampires in leather jackets prowling night clubs. I've seen other more complex vampire characters, as well. Selene from Underworld and Dante from the novels of The Maker's Song. Are we coming back around to Stoker's vision of the metaphor? This is where we start to cross into that other aspect of the Age of Vampires. The cultural eras in which these stories are told and how they reflect upon our perspectives of power and sexuality. We'll play with those thoughts next time around....

Reading/Viewing List

I'll list here books I have read, along with films that I've seen, that have anything to do with vampires and/or my thoughts on how they relate to our culture. Please add any titles you think are interesting in the comments section.

Books:
Dracula (Enriched Classics Series), Bram Stoker
Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter: Guilty Pleasures, Vol. 1, Laurel K. Hamilton
I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
Vampire Chronicles (Interview with the Vampire, etc.), Ann Rice
A Rush of Wings: Book One of The Maker's Song, Adrian Phoenix

Films/TV:
Dark Shadows
Kolchak
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Angel
Dracula (Christopher Lee version)
The Hunger
Underworld
The Addiction
Near Dark
True Blood

There are hundreds of books and films, but these are ones that either impressed me or seem to have captured popular attention (suggesting they may hold some interesting reflections in them.)