Scholars
have a tendency to stumble into academic territory that they did not intend to
enter. Or, well, I do at least. A few years ago I decided to write a feminist
critique of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. It resulted in two publications. You write two pieces on vampires and suddenly
you’re marked as someone well versed in feminist readings of the
monstrous. I didn’t want to pigeon-holed
in this way so I swore I was done writing on vampires… and then I saw a
call
for a collection on The Vampire Diaries.
I
have a soft spot for the L.J. Smith’s Vampire
Diaries. I read the trilogy when I
was in junior high and adored the books.
I was thrilled when I heard they were adapting them for television and,
surprisingly, I like the television series more than I did the books they
stemmed from. (Although I do feel a bit
silly for following a CW show so faithfully – it feels a bit like shopping in
the junior section of a department store.)
So, I decided to flesh out an idea I had had rolling about in my mind
for a few years on these recent vampire adaptations. Unsurprisingly, it has my usual post-9/11
focus. (Hey, if it works for zombies,
why not for vampires too?)
Vampire
narratives from Dracula to present
have been analyzed (and allegorized) in terms of race and cultural conflict,
allowing the fictional figures within such texts to often represent much more
than mere mythical creatures. For
example, scholars have read Bram Stoker’s text as reflecting the fears that
spawned the eugenics movement during the early 20th century – fears
of blood contamination and interracial marriage. Scholarly analyses of vampire texts at the
close of the 20th century have read such narratives as alluding to
other cultural concerns, such as terrorism – fears of “the other” who can hide
among us and attack without provocation.
In Our Vampires, Ourselves,
Nina Auerbach argues that every age embraces its own particular kind of vampire
– a cultural archetype that plays out the societal concerns from which it
derives (145). In the American
post-9/11 cultural climate, it is interesting to see how the various vampire
fictions represent the current cultural concerns of the 21st
century. More interesting is the way
some of the most popular vampire texts are remediating a past historical event
– the Civil War – to bring attention to the cultural divides presently plaguing
the United States.
Being
that vampire texts throughout the centuries have attended to racial tensions
and cultural rifts, the evocation of the Civil War is, in many ways, not
surprising. What is surprising is the
specific ways that vampire cross-over texts are integrating this historical event
into their narratives. In my most recent
essay I analyze three vampire series that have crossed mediated divides,
revamping narrative content from print collections to fit the serialized small
screen and the Hollywood big screen:
HBO’s True Blood
(2008-present), CW’s The Vampire Diaries (2009-present),
and the film adaptations of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight Saga (2008, 2009, 2010,
2011, 2012). Below I’ll provide a brief summary of the
arguments I make in greater detail in the larger work.
HBO’s
hit drama derived from Charlaine Harris’s popular novel series, The Southern Vampire Mysteries (2001-present).
One of the main vampire figures in this series (both in the print and televised
versions) is Bill Compton, a vampire whose human life as a soldier and family
man ended during the Civil War. Although
the primary focus of the series is often the romantic relationship between Bill
and Sookie Stackhouse, the social commentary surrounding this melodramatic
focus is often more interesting. The
first season of True Blood actively
draws upon Bill’s historical past, one that prompts main characters to
criticize the racial inequity of 19th century. This attention to race is one anticipated
from the series’ onset. In fact, the
very first moments within the program’s opening credits house controversial
scenes from the racially divided American south of the 1960s (e.g. an image of
a child in Ku Klux Klan attire).
Although this focus on race relations often slips into the backdrop as
the series progresses, Bill Compton exists to remind viewers of the divided
state of the country both in the 1800s and at present; moreover, the juxtaposition
of these time periods suggest that society has not progressed all that
far. True
Blood also uses its narrative to critique other issues that divide the
United States in the 21st century.
The show focuses heavily on non-normative sexuality, allowing the discrimination
the vampire characters experience on the show to parallel discrimination
experienced by homosexuals in present-day America. As the series was released
in 2008 during the height of the outrage over Proposition 8, the California
Marriage Protection Act, it was primed to be a text that transferred societal
debates over the role of the family and the sanctity of marriage into the
fictional confines of the vampire infused world in a way that critiqued the
current political landscape.
Released
a year after True Blood, The Vampire Diaries also draws upon the
Civil War to highlight contemporary concerns, although more subtly. The CW’s teen drama brought renewed attention
to L.J. Smith’s 1991 trilogy of the same name.
Likely inspired by the success of Meyer’s Twilight series, Smith took advantage of the resurgent popularity
of vampire narratives, expanding her print series after almost two decades and
accepting a television deal that would take her original storyline in a vastly
different direction. Smith’s original
series focused on a love triangle between two vampire brothers and their human
love interest, Elena Gilbert. This
remains the tie that binds the two versions together at present. Although much could be contrasted between the
television series and the original trilogy, for the purposes of this essay the
most interesting change relates to the backstory of the two brothers. Smith’s novel series portrayed the two male
characters, Damon and Stefan Salvatore, as brothers born during the Italian Renaissance. The CW series alters their pasts, recasting
them as young men who met their demise on American soil during the Civil War
era. The television series devotes much
more of its narrative contents to the past than did its textual predecessor and
it also transforms one of its main characters into an African American
descendant of slaves to draw attention to the setting’s cultural
hierarchy. The racial segregation of the
vampires and witches is quite explicit and, I argue, problematic.
Unlike
the previous two examples, the adapted Twilight films remain closer to their
ancestor texts, focusing primarily on the romantic relationship between a
human, Bella Swan, and a vampire, Edward Cullen. The Civil War connection within this series
is the origin story of Jasper Cullen who was a major in the confederate army
when he was turned. While this plot
element is rather minor, this series is perhaps the most obvious of the three
in the way that it expresses nostalgia for the past through the
characterization of the main male characters.
All of the series use this historic event as a way to anchor their
stories in an American past that is sometimes romanticized. The Civil War time period shares with this
contemporary one a societal resurgence of patriotism – patriotism that comes in
a form so strong that it can divide a nation.
In fact, some critics have drawn parallels between the contemporary Tea
Party movement and the Civil War Confederacy. The protagonist vampires from these series associated
with the Civil War epoch are also interesting to analyze in that they do not
exist as vampires traditionally do. They
are not depicted as an “other” to be feared (which might be expected from
post-9/11 texts). They exist instead as
heroic characters who work alongside their human partners to thwart evil in
various forms – evil that threatens to terrorize their communities. But to be clear, these narratives still do
depict dark, dangerous others in a way that calls out for a post-9/11 reading. In these texts all of the good vampires are
American and (at least initially) all of the bad vampires come from
abroad. Some examples of the evil
non-American vampires from these series include Aro Volturi in Twilight, Russell Edginton in True Blood, and Niklaus Mikaelson
[Klaus] in The Vampire Diaries. This is not an entirely new phenomenon but it
is certainly one that has been amplified in the post-9/11 moment.
The
characterization of the main male characters in these series is also
noteworthy. Especially in the case of
Bill Compton, Stefan Salvatore, and Edward Cullen, these characters represent
traditional American values; they are polite, old-fashioned, and chivalrous. Their depictions, therefore, are much
different than those of vampires in past narratives and may be a product of the
conservative rhetoric concerning family values that dominated the early and
mid-2000s, or shifting conceptualizations of masculinity. For example, in the Twilight series, Edward’s
refusal to have sexual intercourse with Bella until marriage is read as
aligning with the abstinence-only education movement popular during this time
period.
With
this piece I set out to explore the fascination that present vampire narratives
have with the Civil War time period and the “traditional” values associated
with that bygone era. Ultimately I
suggest that this historical backdrop functions to redirect viewers’ attention
to the cultural divides that trouble the country at present in regard to issues including politics, religion, race, gender,
and sexuality. However, this tie to the
Civil War also reflects the nostalgia for the past and the current trend of
heightened patriotism/nationalism being expressed by subsections of the
American public. As such, these
television and film vampire tales continue to function as their ancestor texts
have: they embody the cultural concerns
and fears of the time period in which they are created and offer up fascinating
critiques in the guise of fiction.
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