Reading: Dracula (0: Dracula's Guest)

Every few years I always have this urge to pick up a classic and start reading it. Actually, many of the classics that I read, I read in my early college years, and, thinking back on some of the classics I read, I often wonder if it was too early for me to read them. I don’t usually have good impressions - the story was either a meh or a it put me to sleep, I remember nothing. Or maybe a I powered through it and was conscious for only part of it

That last one is actually what happened when I first read Dracula

And that is one of the reasons I’m here (again), about to reread it. The other reason (and more important one) is that I read The Route of Ice and Salt by Jose Luis Zarate and was MINDBLOWN to hear that the OG Dracula might be kinda gay. And you know that’s a surefire way to get my attention!

The thing is that I don’t want to just read it. I want to really pay attention, so I’ve decided to post individual chapter thoughts here. I also started a readalong on StoryGraph, though I’m not sure how successful that will be! Actually, I’m thinking of doing a few more, kind of like a “book club” (we’ll see how that goes though)

Dracula’s Guest

But before that, I wanted to leave my thoughts on Dracula’s Guest, which (according to Dracula Daily) was originally written as the first chapter of Dracula but was cut out of the novel. You can read it here

I’ll be posting a few parts of it down below

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This is actually my second read so a lot of my comments will take that into account

When we started for our drive the sun was shining brightly on Munich, and the air was full of the joyousness of early summer. Just as we were about to depart, Herr Delbruck (the maitre d'hotel of the Quatre Saisons, where I was staying) came down bareheaded to the carriage and, after wishing me a pleasant drive, said to the coachman, still holding his hand on the handle of the carriage door, "Remember you are back by nightfall. The sky looks bright but there is a shiver in the north wind that says there may be a sudden storm. But I am sure you will not be late." Here he smiled and added, "for you know what night it is."

When I first read this, I was really confused about the weather because they start off the story mentioning it’s like early summer, but then they have a storm?! WELL, I just looked it up and apparently you can have both summer and winter in Munich around this time…?!

Well, I looked up April since the first novel entry happens on May 3rd

”for you know what night it is.” - so foreboding!

"Tell me, Johann, what is tonight?"

He crossed himself, as he answered laconically: "Walpurgis nacht." Then he took out his watch, a great, old-fashioned German silver thing as big as a turnip and looked at it, with his eyebrows gathered together and a little impatient shrug of his shoulders. I realized that this was his way of respectfully protesting against the unnecessary delay and sank back in the carriage, merely motioning him to proceed. He started off rapidly, as if to make up for lost time. Every now and then the horses seemed to throw up their heads and sniff the air suspiciously. On such occasions I often looked round in alarm.

I was wondering what type of carriage they could be on. When I first read it, I thought it was weird that just asking a question could cause a delay, but then I realized (after rereading Black Butler) that the MC is in a carriage. So that means the coachman has to stop the carriage

But then I started to wonder, if the carriage is closed off (as they are in Black Butler) HOW can the MC see the way the horses are responding? They wouldn’t be visible to him!

I did an image search and am still not entirely satisfied with what I’ve found (though it helps visually)

He does mention horses, so I figured it could be something like this? But that didn’t make sense either because what does it mean that he “sank back into the carriage”? Does that mean that he stood up? Made motion? Are you not allowed to make many motions on carriages? Was it that he did exit a closed carriage? HAHA. Now I want to learn more about carriages

As we drove, I saw a road that looked but little used and which seemed to dip through a little winding valley. It looked so inviting that, even at the risk of offending him, I called Johann to stop—and when he had pulled up, I told him I would like to drive down that road. He made all sorts of excuses and frequently crossed himself as he spoke. This somewhat piqued my curiosity, so I asked him various questions. He answered fencingly and repeatedly looked at his watch in protest.

Finally I said, "Well, Johann, I want to go down this road. I shall not ask you to come unless you like; but tell me why you do not like to go, that is all I ask." For answer he seemed to throw himself off the box, so quickly did he reach the ground. Then he stretched out his hands appealingly to me and implored me not to go. There was just enough of English mixed with the German for me to understand the drift of his talk. He seemed always just about to tell me something—the very idea of which evidently frightened him; but each time he pulled himself up saying, "Walpurgis nacht!"

The way I would want to wring this man’s neck if he did this to me (or just leave him)

Also, how was he expecting to get an answer if he can’t speak the language? Also, I think he later realizes what Walpurgis nacht is in English and I was like…how did you not realize before, it looks the same!

Although, that’s written, maybe it sounds very different? I wonder

but sounds were heard under the clay, and when the graves were opened, men and women were found rosy with life and their mouths red with blood. And so, in haste to save their lives (aye, and their souls!—and here he crossed himself) those who were left fled away to other places, where the living lived and the dead were dead and not—not something. He was evidently afraid to speak the last words. As he proceeded with his narration, he grew more and more excited. It seemed as if his imagination had got hold of him, and he ended in a perfect paroxysm of fear—white-faced, perspiring, trembling, and looking round him as if expecting that some dreadful presence would manifest itself there in the bright sunshine on the open plain.

Finally, in an agony of desperation, he cried, "Walpurgis nacht!" and pointed to the carriage for me to get in.

All my English blood rose at this, and standing back I said, "You are afraid, Johann—you are afraid. Go home, I shall return alone, the walk will do me good."

BRUHHH. Even after hearing that you still want to go? REALLY?!

With a light heart I turned down the side road through the deepening valley to which Johann had objected. There was not the slightest reason, that I could see, for his objection; and I daresay I tramped for a couple of hours without thinking of time or distance and certainly without seeing a person or a house.

OK, but how was he planning to get back to wherever he needed to go? He’s been walking for hours (apparently and believable if the place is as desolate as he claims) and nobody is around, something he KNEW because the coachman was like it’s abandoned, nobody is there.

Like, even if you walk back to where you came from…how? You plan to spend the night with nature?

The way this man is so reckless is honestly mind-boggling: something clearly spooked the horses to the point they RAN, there’s nobody around, you’re going toward a village that’s been abandoned and has spooky rumors attached to it, and (as we learned at the start) a storm is coming. How do you plan to survive?

As I looked there came a cold shiver in the air, and the snow began to fall. I thought of the miles and miles of bleak country I had passed, and then hurried on to seek shelter of the wood in front. Darker and darker grew the sky, and faster and heavier fell the snow, till the earth before and around me was a glistening white carpet the further edge of which was lost in misty vagueness.

And this is what confused me about the weather! Like summer to winter storm?!

Also, hehehe, how you feeling now sir?

There was something so weird and uncanny about the whole thing that it gave me a turn and made me feel quite faint. I began to wish, for the first time, that I had taken Johann's advice. Here a thought struck me, which came under almost mysterious circumstances and with a terrible shock. This was Walpurgis Night!

Walpurgis Night was when, according to the belief of millions of people, the devil was abroad—when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held revel. This very place the driver had specially shunned. This was the depopulated village of centuries ago. This was where the suicide lay; and this was the place where I was alone—unmanned, shivering with cold in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again upon me! It took all my philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all my courage, not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright.

IDK man, you were warned so many times, I have nothing to give you but evil laughing. I am going to enjoy your suffering

Also, I just made the connection between Walpurgis Night and Halloween, LOL. And it apparently happens on the night of April 30th, so yeah, thereabouts to what I thought.

Some great animal was lying on me and now licking my throat. I feared to stir, for some instinct of prudence bade me lie still; but the brute seemed to realize that there was now some change in me, for it raised its head. Through my eyelashes I saw above me the two great flaming eyes of a gigantic wolf. Its sharp white teeth gleamed in the gaping red mouth, and I could feel its hot breath fierce and acrid upon me.

This is how all bestiality stories begin, hehehe

The wolf still continued to yelp in a strange way, and a red glare began to move round the grove of cypresses, as though following the sound. As the voices drew closer, the wolf yelped faster and louder. I feared to make either sound or motion. Nearer came the red glow over the white pall which stretched into the darkness around me. Then all at once from beyond the trees there came at a trot a troop of horsemen bearing torches. The wolf rose from my breast and made for the cemetery.

Considering what happens next, the wolf is either dracula or one of his cronies (do vampires have familiars? they do, right? or is that something that came after the og dracula?)

The officer raised me to a sitting posture, as he uttered a word of command; then several men placed me upon a horse. He sprang to the saddle behind me, took me in his arms, gave the word to advance; and, turning our faces away from the cypresses, we rode away in swift military order.

Potential romance contender? LOL

But seriously, I haven’t been paying attention to the ages of these people. I have to know!

"Dog!" reiterated the other ironically. It was evident that his courage was rising with the sun; and, pointing to me, he said, "Look at his throat. Is that the work of a dog, master?"

Instinctively I raised my hand to my throat, and as I touched it I cried out in pain. The men crowded round to look, some stooping down from their saddles; and again there came the calm voice of the young officer, "A dog, as I said. If aught else were said we should only be laughed at."

Wait, I thought his throat had been ok?? Or was it just ok in the sense that he didn’t have the “vampire marks” but what, it was bitten by the wolf?? Confused

Also, why would people laugh? Is the dracula thing more of a local/outskirts belief? I guess so far it sounded like it was something everyone knew about and accepted

When we arrived, Herr Delbruck rushed so quickly down the steps to meet me, that it was apparent he had been watching within. Taking me by both hands he solicitously led me in. The officer saluted me and was turning to withdraw, when I recognized his purpose and insisted that he should come to my rooms.

(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) oh my~

Pls, go to his room~

"Oh, no!" he answered, "but even before the coachman arrived, I had this telegram from the Boyar whose guest you are," and he took from his pocket a telegram which he handed to me, and I read:

Bistritz. Be careful of my guest—his safety is most precious to me. Should aught happen to him, or if he be missed, spare nothing to find him and ensure his safety. He is English and therefore adventurous. There are often dangers from snow and wolves and night. Lose not a moment if you suspect harm to him. I answer your zeal with my fortune. —Dracula.

Ok, but WHY. Why is this man so dear to you dracula? Why stalk him? Is he like Ciel? Is his blood delicious? Are you like Sebastian? Is your intention to nurture it until it becomes perfect, a delicacy?

”Adventurous” that’s a nice way of putting it LOL

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Ok, I had more fun with this than I thought I would! And the writing is really good