This is actually the third time that I've read Stoker's Dracula. Each time I read it I find myself identifying with the Count, being filled with anticipation of his eventual reign over the nights of London, reveling in his repeated victories over the initially incompetent English protagonists, getting concerned when they start taking the upper hand, and eventually being disappointed that his meticulously laid plans are thwarted. Although I am acutely aware that Dracula is supposed to be the villain in the story, he always seems more deserving of victory than the band of individuals who steal it from within his grasp: affective fallacy at its finest! Perhaps it is this soft spot for Dracula that makes me an easy target for Carol Senf's critique.
Senf's article argues that literary significance of Dracula is centred around its value as a social commentary debunking the attempts of Victorian society to mask primal human desires under staid religious and political customs. She forges her line of reasoning from the conjectures that emerge as she deconstructs the many inconsistencies harboured within the pages of Stoker's novel. These theories she cleverly manipulates into a systemic analysis of the book's writing style, character development and narrative strategy that summarily punches holes through competing literary criticisms before drawing the reader to the conclusion that the true message of Dracula is the ambivalence between Good and Evil. Despite the slightly dubious nature of some of her postulates, and the inherent danger of being waylaid by intentional fallacy, I am inclined to agree with her exposition regarding Dracula.
Senf's approach starts out by deconstructing the evidence that condemns Dracula. She frequently relies upon the implicit subjectivity of the narrative technique to bolster her claims of unbalanced and misguided judgements pronounced upon Dracula by a cast of characters whom she attempts to discredit as patently unreliable.
The first move Senf makes in this direction is to highlight the character's diffidence of their own chronicles of the events surrounding Dracula's persecution. As she points out, both the preface and Jonathan Harker's concluding words address the issues of their complete and utter lack of any authentic documentation that could serve to indict the Count of the transgressions for which they destroy him.
The main characters have a tendency to regularly arrive at identical conclusions about matters in which they are far from expert. Senf uses this tendency as a basis for proposing that none of their surmises can be trusted, since they are forced to deal with situations very much unlike what they are accustomed to. She does, however, allow for Van Helsing as an exception to this line of reasoning, since the novel presents him as a multi-faceted individual with considerable experience in dealing with paranormal phenomena. This does not save the novel from further attacks, though, as she simply relinquishes one weapon to pick up another.
Her next assault upon the book's mutilation of the Count's character consists of brandishing the deplorable lack of any opportunity for the reader to receive the victim's version of the story. This is an innate problem that stems from the journalistic format the narrative is presented in. However, this explanation does not detract from omission's legitimacy as a gaping hole in the scathing onslaught that the book directs at the character whose name it bears.
The theme of insanity runs through the story like a separate thread that sporadically intersects the main plot, often in the confines of Dr. Seward's asylum. Senf treats this theme as another weapon in her arsenal against the accusations that the vampire hunters level at the Count. She argues that Dr. Seward's introspective self-doubt, Lucy's schizophrenic behaviour, Jonathan's nervous breakdown and Renfield's obvious lunacy cumulatively dampen the credibility of Dracula's pursuers. While I can appreciate the logic behind this train of thought, it did not seem like a strong enough argument to put a serious dent into the reliability of the English protagonists.
Following on the heels of these critically flavoured examinations of Stoker's work, Senf unleashes the sharpest barb she has: at no point during his stay in London does Dracula run afoul of British law, and all his alleged murders are based on nothing more than circumstantial evidence. This came as a shocking realization to me when I read it because I had been completely taken in by the morass of purely subjective but highly emphatic judgements the book levies upon its readers. Senf proceeds to admonish the actions of the English vampire hunters, who repudiate their responsibilities under the law in favour of playing judge, jury and executioner as they adopt the stance of protecting what they hold to be the greater good.
None of Senf's assertions are particularly out of line at this juncture, having restricted her thrusts against Dracula's guilty verdict to within the bounds of feasibility. She has now established a well-founded platform upon which to begin propounding her hypothesis about the real reason for the vilification of the Count.
In her analysis of Stoker's narrative technique, especially his employment of unreliable narrators, Senf goes against the grain; she expostulates that Dracula is reviled, not because he is a ruthless and despicable serial killer, but because he is so markedly different from the norm that the small band of protagonists feel their entire way of life threatened by him, and the sexual freedom he personifies.
She brings up the cultural shock that Jonathan experiences when he visits Transylvania for the first time, which leads to ethnic stereotyping of the local population. Her purpose in doing so is to demonstrate the close-mindedness of one of the main narrators. This is another fact that eluded me when I originally read the novel but makes complete sense in hindsight.
Jonathan fears that Dracula will terrorize London for centuries to come in an ironic form of reverse colonization whereby this creature from the ancient world propagates himself in the form of a new race that will subjugate the British empire and wipe out everything it holds dear. Yet, I have to agree with Senf's proposal that there is little difference between the actions of Dracula and his pursuers; they both exhibit violent, irrational behaviour, are not above attacking sleeping victims and are possessed by a monomaniacal desire to thwart each other's plans. In fact, the only genuine distinction the book makes between the vampires and the champions of Victorian society is that the former never have their point of view presented.
This raises the question of how the vampire hunters are able to morally condemn Dracula while simultaneously emulating his behaviour. Interestingly enough, it is their inability to recognize this parallel that enables them to continually fight fire with fire without having to bear any of the remorse that would logically consume them if they were to apply their own ethical standards to their crusade against the vampires. Senf identifies the rationale they wield for this purpose; secure in their belief that vampires are a blight upon the face of the earth, these self-appointed saviours of humanity are able to justify taking any steps necessary to eradicate this menace entirely, without regard for centuries of judicial tradition. Indeed, complicit ignorance allows them to vanquish an immortal demon!
Dracula is not quite the monster the narrators portray him as. Although depicted as a soulless creature of the night who preys on the innocent, the reality is that Dracula's alleged victims are always willing participants at the time he feeds on them. In fact, as the critique points out, it is well known that he cannot even enter a dwelling for the first time unless invited to do so by an inhabitant. Even when he subsequently feeds upon his victims, he does not force them into submission, relying instead upon a far less confrontational but nevertheless highly effective tactic: seduction.
Dracula is seductive for precisely the same reason that he is hated and feared: he is not bound by the Victorian code of conduct and offers this overwhelming freedom to those who embrace him and his way of life. The old-guard English protagonists are not prepared to have their entire world struck into disarray by the imminent sexual revolution that this enigmatic being promises to incite if left unobstructed. Their method of retaliation is to relentlessly hunt down and finally destroy Dracula as well as his trio of female sidekicks. Thus, the hallmark of Dracula's allure - his seductive power - is also the cause of his downfall.
This double edged sword is the key to the staying power of Stoker's novel. Because Dracula's powers are hopelessly intertwined with the characteristics that make him a social evil, he is a perpetual conundrum; one that has served as fodder for countless interpretations and reenactments of the work Stoker gave the world more than a century ago.
While Dracula is considered by many to be a novel about the struggle between Good and Evil, Senf makes a very convincing argument that it can be seen as an expose of the similarities between them in British society at the turn of the twentieth century. Although I did not have quite the same reactions to the novel as she did, I did notice many of the inconsistencies and relevant details that she employs as premises in her argument. Additionally, my somewhat unique response to the plight of being a vampire means that I have a sympathetic ear for anything said in defence of Dracula. I am therefore able to include myself among those whom Senf has persuaded to subscribe to her perception of Stoker's equivocal masterpiece.