Let's Read Dracula [Spoiler-Free]

Zap Rowsdower · Aug 8, 2024

Thuktun F said:
While Dracula slinks off into the night, probably looking to sample English cuisine

Ah, so he'll be jumping back on the boat within a day or two, presumably again in dog form and making sad whimpering sounds

BungieONI · Aug 8, 2024

Thuktun F said:
And with that, he is finally here. God help us all.

Hooooooly shit where did you find that picture lmao.

Extremely goth entrance. Amusingly also referenced in Hellsing anime.

Thuktun F · Aug 9, 2024

The newspaper clippings continue!

CUTTING FROM "THE DAILY GRAPH,"
9 AUGUST
(Pasted in Mina Murray's Journal.)

From a Correspondent.

Whitby.

9 August.—The sequel to the strange arrival of the derelict in the storm last night is almost more startling than the thing itself. It turns out that the schooner is a Russian from Varna, and is called the Demeter.

Almost completely unrelated, but I learned that Varna was renamed Stalin for like seven years, which just hammers in the scope of Russian hegemony in Eastern Europe during the past few centuries. (And yes I know Stalin was Georgian, but he ruled from the imperial core of Russia and pursued Russification policies).

She is almost entirely in ballast of silver sand, with only a small amount of cargo—a number of great wooden boxes filled with mould. This cargo was consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. S. F. Billington, of 7, The Crescent, who this morning went aboard and formally took possession of the goods consigned to him.

In this context, "mould" means "loose soil" and not fungus. Looks like the Chekov's gun that was loaded months earlier when Dracula asked Jonathan about hiring solicitors for different tasks has finally fired.

The newspaper article then discusses the large dog that had escaped from the boat, with mention made of the local SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) trying to find and befriend it. However, the author of the article expresses caution.

There are some who look with dread on such a possibility, lest later on it should in itself become a danger, for it is evidently a fierce brute. Early this morning a large dog, a half-bred mastiff belonging to a coal merchant close to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead in the roadway opposite to its master's yard. It had been fighting, and manifestly had had a savage opponent, for its throat was torn away, and its belly was slit open as if with a savage claw.

Dracula is evidently near-invincible during nighttime, capable of becoming intangible at will. This murder was clearly for his amusement only, and not an act of self-defense, however one-sided.

Later.—By the kindness of the Board of Trade inspector, I have been permitted to look over the log-book of the Demeter, which was in order up to within three days, but contained nothing of special interest except as to facts of missing men. The greatest interest, however, is with regard to the paper found in the bottle, which was to-day produced at the inquest; and a more strange narrative than the two between them unfold it has not been my lot to come across.

My sympathies to those who have to read what we read of the Demeter's crew and their gruesome fate.

The authorities draw the conclusion that the captain was dealing with psychosis, nevertheless the people of Whitby hold him in a higher opinion.

The folk here hold almost universally that the captain is simply a hero, and he is to be given a public funeral. Already it is arranged that his body is to be taken with a train of boats up the Esk for a piece and then brought back to Tate Hill Pier and up the abbey steps; for he is to be buried in the churchyard on the cliff. The owners of more than a hundred boats have already given in their names as wishing to follow him to the grave.

Oh, if only they knew the true depths of his heroism. Royalty would have attended his funeral in that scenario.

No trace has ever been found of the great dog; at which there is much mourning, for, with public opinion in its present state, he would, I believe, be adopted by the town. To-morrow will see the funeral; and so will end this one more "mystery of the sea."

Who doesn't want a vampire warlord for a town mascot?

For a last note for today's update, I love how it demonstrates Mina's curiosity and methodical nature, that she put newspaper clippings detailing a strange event in her journal.

BungieONI · Aug 9, 2024

Thuktun F said:
For a last note for today's update, I love how it demonstrates Mina's curiosity and methodical nature, that she put newspaper clippings detailing a strange event in her journal.

Something I have liked about Dracula as a book is that on a meta level what media Stoker has his characters focus on and add to the narrative tells us a lot about those characters. Case and point here with Mina and her curiosity conveyed through newspaper, but also Jonathan's shorthand and style of writing which tips off his fiance.

And then the logbook of the Demeter, which is used to capture the mind of a sailor in the throes of horror he never wanted or imagined.

Thuktun F · Aug 10, 2024

We once again return to Mina, and witness the beginning of Dracula's villainy in England. Today's update begins with a mention of her and Lucy attending the funeral of the captain of the Demeter.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
10 August.—The funeral of the poor sea-captain to-day was most touching. Every boat in the harbour seemed to be there, and the coffin was carried by captains all the way from Tate Hill Pier up to the churchyard. Lucy came with me, and we went early to our old seat, whilst the cortège of boats went up the river to the Viaduct and came down again.

How strange it is, that despite narrating one of the most important sections of the book thus far, the captain's name is and likely forever shall be a mystery to us.

Poor Lucy seemed much upset. She was restless and uneasy all the time, and I cannot but think that her dreaming at night is telling on her. She is quite odd in one thing: she will not admit to me that there is any cause for restlessness; or if there be, she does not understand it herself.

Gotta love that silly British stoicism. We see how open-hearted Lucy and others can be with experiencing joy, but when they are in the toils and need other people the most, they become as quiet as the grave.

And speaking of graves...

There is an additional cause in that poor old Mr. Swales was found dead this morning on our seat, his neck being broken. He had evidently, as the doctor said, fallen back in the seat in some sort of fright, for there was a look of fear and horror on his face that the men said made them shudder. Poor dear old man! Perhaps he had seen Death with his dying eyes!

Not Death, but a coward who throws others in His path so he can stay ahead, no matter how many he must sacrifice.

This is a significant moment in many ways. Not only is Mr. Swales the first man Dracula has killed in England, and the first named character to die, but he himself has become subject to the very trend he mocked earlier. No one is going to put "murdered by a vampire" on his tombstone even if they did know the truth, and thus many years later when curious tourists read his cenotaph, they will think he was merely an old man who died in a mundane accident.

Anyway, Mina writes of how Lucy is naturally upset by this, and a later event.

Just now she was quite upset by a little thing which I did not much heed, though I am myself very fond of animals. One of the men who came up here often to look for the boats was followed by his dog. The dog is always with him. They are both quiet persons, and I never saw the man angry, nor heard the dog bark. During the service the dog would not come to its master, who was on the seat with us, but kept a few yards off, barking and howling. Its master spoke to it gently, and then harshly, and then angrily; but it would neither come nor cease to make a noise. It was in a sort of fury, with its eyes savage, and all its hairs bristling out like a cat's tail when puss is on the war-path.

Interesting that dogs panic at even the presence of Dracula's victims, when their wild brethren are at his beck and call. Perhaps it is a sign of their "civilization" thanks to human domestication.

Finally the man, too, got angry, and jumped down and kicked the dog, and then took it by the scruff of the neck and half dragged and half threw it on the tombstone on which the seat is fixed. The moment it touched the stone the poor thing became quiet and fell all into a tremble. It did not try to get away, but crouched down, quivering and cowering, and was in such a pitiable state of terror that I tried, though without effect, to comfort it.

John Wick would like to know your location.

I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out physically, so I shall take her for a long walk by the cliffs to Robin Hood's Bay and back. She ought not to have much inclination for sleep-walking then.

Sleep-walking is not a matter of restlessness. In fact, interrupted sleep cycles or insomnia might prevent sleep-walking, as the brain has to be in stage 3 of NREM (non rapid eye movement) aka "deep sleep" in order for somnambulism to occur.

Same day, 11 o'clock p. m.—Oh, but I am tired! If it were not that I had made my diary a duty I should not open it to-night. We had a lovely walk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits, owing, I think, to some dear cows who came nosing towards us in a field close to the lighthouse, and frightened the wits out of us.

Cows are such charming creatures. It makes me feel bad that I eat them, but I'm a weak man who cannot resist a juicy burger.

Shit, is that the logic some vampires use?

We had a capital "severe tea" at Robin Hood's Bay in a sweet little old-fashioned inn, with a bow-window right over the seaweed-covered rocks of the strand. I believe we should have shocked the "New Woman" with our appetites.

Severe tea in this instance is just another way of referring to a high tea, which is a full meal with hot foods like meat pies, beans, fish and chips, etc. In contrast, an afternoon tea is sweets and finger foods, such as scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam, or cucumber sandwiches. Basically, Mina is saying she and Lucy scarfed down a proper meal instead of something "dainty" and "ladylike".

It's quite funny that Mina writes that her appetite would have shocked the New Woman, as one of the elements of the New Woman social movement was an increase in outdoor activities like cycling as to further establish independence from the household, and you need a hearty appetite to fuel such outdoorswomanship.

Actually, cycling plays a really big role in Victorian-era feminism. The literal mobility offered by the bicycle increased social mobility, as it meant a woman was not dependent on her husband to travel longer distances, and the practicalities of bike-riding gave women ammunition to engage in dress reform, as long flowing skirts do not mesh well with bicycle chains.

Then we walked home with some, or rather many, stoppages to rest, and with our hearts full of a constant dread of wild bulls. Lucy was really tired, and we intended to creep off to bed as soon as we could. The young curate came in, however, and Mrs. Westenra asked him to stay for supper. Lucy and I had both a fight for it with the dusty miller; I know it was a hard fight on my part, and I am quite heroic. I think that some day the bishops must get together and see about breeding up a new class of curates, who don't take supper, no matter how they may be pressed to, and who will know when girls are tired.

"Dusty miller" was the Victorian English version of the Sandman. Also, I love Mina's spunk where she gripes in her journal about the curate- it's such a human thing to do, and I feel that such fire will come in handy later.

Lucy is asleep and breathing softly. She has more colour in her cheeks than usual, and looks, oh, so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with her seeing her only in the drawing-room, I wonder what he would say if he saw her now. Some of the "New Women" writers will some day start an idea that men and women should be allowed to see each other asleep before proposing or accepting. But I suppose the New Woman won't condescend in future to accept; she will do the proposing herself.

Oh Mina, how prescient you are. It tickles me pink to see someone in the now-distant past dream of a future that is my reality, even if the rate of women proposing in straight marriages is still low.

There's some consolation in that. I am so happy to-night, because dear Lucy seems better. I really believe she has turned the corner, and that we are over her troubles with dreaming. I should be quite happy if I only knew if Jonathan.... God bless and keep him.

You might be at the forefront of women's fashion and its intersection with modernity, but Jonathan knows all about lizard fashion. Hopefully he'll get to tell you all about soon.

Mizu · Aug 10, 2024

Thuktun F said:
Oh Mina, how prescient you are. It tickles me pink to see someone in the now-distant past dream of a future that is my reality, even if the rate of women proposing in straight marriages is still low.

There's been a few mentions in the novel about stuff which we do in the modern day. It's caught me off guard, whether from the prediction or reveal of how X is older than I thought.

Been enjoying this so far. Dracula sounds like a pretty great mystery novel.

RC2020 · Aug 11, 2024

Van Helsing claims later on that Dracula himself was resting in that grave, since it was some sense 'unhallowed' due to containing the remains of a man who had committed suicide. The dog would therefore be sensing Dracula's nearby physical presence, which explains its fearful reaction to touching the stone. Lucy's reaction may suggest that her sleepwalking and dreams are not simply a coincidence contrived by the author to later let her be bitten, but down to Dracula's influence even before he made landfall, already hinted at in Mina's note on 3 August that Lucy has an 'odd concentration' and seems to be watching her even in her sleep.
Of course, if that's so, it means Dracula either somehow picked her because of her connection to Mina, or has the worst luck imaginable. The one woman in Whitby with a susceptibility to sleepwalking he can exploit happens to be best friends with the fiancée of the solicitor who knows something of his plans and true nature, and is herself engaged to a peer's heir with financial and social resources that can be employed against him, and also has a friend/ex-suitor whose doctor mentor is open-minded and meticulous enough to work out exactly what is attacking his patient.

Thuktun F · Aug 11, 2024

Content warning on this one: Sexual violence and its coding will be shown and discussed in this chapter

After weeks of buildup, Chekov's Gun fires again.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
11 August, 3 a. m.—Diary again. No sleep now, so I may as well write. I am too agitated to sleep. We have had such an adventure, such an agonising experience. I fell asleep as soon as I had closed my diary.... Suddenly I became broad awake, and sat up, with a horrible sense of fear upon me, and of some feeling of emptiness around me. The room was dark, so I could not see Lucy's bed; I stole across and felt for her. The bed was empty.

Even without the context that we have, this is scarier for her than before, as Mina knows for a fact there is some massive dog capable of gutting mastiffs prowling the streets.

I feared to wake her mother, who has been more than usually ill lately, so threw on some clothes and got ready to look for her. As I was leaving the room it struck me that the clothes she wore might give me some clue to her dreaming intention. Dressing-gown would mean house; dress, outside. Dressing-gown and dress were both in their places.

Once again Mina demonstrates her sharp wits- despite the disorientation of sleep deprivation and the panic of her best friend being missing, she is able to study details and make educated conclusions.

"Thank God," I said to myself, "she cannot be far, as she is only in her nightdress." I ran downstairs and looked in the sitting-room. Not there!

...of course, educated conclusions and vampire bullshit don't mix very well.

Mina realizes Lucy is not in the house, and she runs out to look for her.

The clock was striking one as I was in the Crescent, and there was not a soul in sight. I ran along the North Terrace, but could see no sign of the white figure which I expected. At the edge of the West Cliff above the pier I looked across the harbour to the East Cliff, in the hope or fear—I don't know which—of seeing Lucy in our favourite seat.
...
Whatever my expectation was, it was not disappointed, for there, on our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white. The coming of the cloud was too quick for me to see much, for shadow shut down on light almost immediately; but it seemed to me as though something dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over it.

As we have gotten coding evocative of sexual violence from Jonathan's side as he contends with the weird sisters, now we get it from Mina's, and her outsider viewpoint of the event adds a new angle. Whereas before we had the visceral description of unwanted arousal and fear, now we get the image of a predator looming over defenseless prey.

What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell; I did not wait to catch another glance, but flew down the steep steps to the pier and along by the fish-market to the bridge, which was the only way to reach the East Cliff.
...
When I got almost to the top I could see the seat and the white figure, for I was now close enough to distinguish it even through the spells of shadow. There was undoubtedly something, long and black, bending over the half-reclining white figure. I called in fright, "Lucy! Lucy!" and something raised a head, and from where I was I could see a white face and red, gleaming eyes.

Ah, applicability. This is a scene that easily could exist in real life, save for the vampire. Imagine the terror of finding a strange man bending over your friend, a young and helpless woman, and you have no means of defending yourself either.

There is also the element of how chronic health conditions, mental and physical, make us more vulnerable to both violence and disease, both of which can be embodied by a vampire. How many mentally handicapped children and teens have been abused by adults, not wholly comprehending of the sin committed against them and unable to voice their distress when they do? How many insomniacs have gone on late-night runs because it's the only thing that lets them have a halfway normal sleep schedule, only to be mugged or assaulted in the dark?

Hell, how many people with chronic conditions have died preventable deaths from disease because no one gave thought or care to them? Disease takes the vulnerable, and Lucy here is no exception.

As I entered, the church was between me and the seat, and for a minute or so I lost sight of her. When I came in view again the cloud had passed, and the moonlight struck so brilliantly that I could see Lucy half reclining with her head lying over the back of the seat. She was quite alone, and there was not a sign of any living thing about.

That you can see.

When I bent over her I could see that she was still asleep. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing—not softly as usual with her, but in long, heavy gasps, as though striving to get her lungs full at every breath. As I came close, she put up her hand in her sleep and pulled the collar of her nightdress close around her throat. Whilst she did so there came a little shudder through her, as though she felt the cold.

Whether Stoker intended it or not, this is eerily reminiscent of the aftermath of a rape.

I feared to wake her all at once, so, in order to have my hands free that I might help her, I fastened the shawl at her throat with a big safety-pin; but I must have been clumsy in my anxiety and pinched or pricked her with it, for by-and-by, when her breathing became quieter, she put her hand to her throat again and moaned.

Yep, it was the safety pin and totally not the fangs of an immortal monster from Transylvania.

After this, Mina brings Lucy back home, and they both get a much-needed rest.

Same day, noon.—All goes well. Lucy slept till I woke her and seemed not to have even changed her side. The adventure of the night does not seem to have harmed her; on the contrary, it has benefited her, for she looks better this morning than she has done for weeks. I was sorry to notice that my clumsiness with the safety-pin hurt her. Indeed, it might have been serious, for the skin of her throat was pierced. I must have pinched up a piece of loose skin and have transfixed it, for there are two little red points like pin-pricks, and on the band of her nightdress was a drop of blood. When I apologised and was concerned about it, she laughed and petted me, and said she did not even feel it. Fortunately it cannot leave a scar, as it is so tiny.

I cannot confirm with brief reading whether or not this was known at the time, but the vampire bat's saliva contains a numbing agent that prevents its prey from feeling the bite and becoming alerted. If the depiction of Lucy's bite mark as painless is purely coincidental, then it is an utterly fantastic one.

Fun fact- vampire bats also have an anticoagulant in their saliva that was, at least as recent as the 90's, 20x more effective than any man-made anticoagulant.

It's called... draculin.

Same day, night.—We passed a happy day. The air was clear, and the sun bright, and there was a cool breeze. We took our lunch to Mulgrave Woods, Mrs. Westenra driving by the road and Lucy and I walking by the cliff-path and joining her at the gate. I felt a little sad myself, for I could not but feel how absolutely happy it would have been had Jonathan been with me. But there! I must only be patient.

In the evening we strolled in the Casino Terrace, and heard some good music by Spohr and Mackenzie, and went to bed early. Lucy seems more restful than she has been for some time, and fell asleep at once. I shall lock the door and secure the key the same as before, though I do not expect any trouble to-night.

Louis Spohr was a highly-regarded composer of the early 19th century who sadly goes largely undiscovered in modern times. Alexander Mackenzie was a Scottish musician who's regarded as one of the fathers of the British musical renaissance, alongside Hubert Parry and Charles Villiers Stanford.

Also, six bucks and my left nut says there'll be more trouble to-night, unless Dracula has the classic weakness of needing to be invited...

Thuktun F · Aug 12, 2024

Today's update of Dracula continues to bring dark clouds, but now there is a silver lining.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
12 August.—My expectations were wrong, for twice during the night I was wakened by Lucy trying to get out. She seemed, even in her sleep, to be a little impatient at finding the door shut, and went back to bed under a sort of protest.

There is precedent in literature for vampires to have powers of hypnosis- it could be that while Dracula had Lucy's ear (and her neck) he planted a command that she would leave the house again while sleepwalking, so that he could finish his midnight snack.

I woke with the dawn, and heard the birds chirping outside of the window. Lucy woke, too, and, I was glad to see, was even better than on the previous morning. All her old gaiety of manner seemed to have come back, and she came and snuggled in beside me and told me all about Arthur. I told her how anxious I was about Jonathan, and then she tried to comfort me. Well, she succeeded somewhat, for, though sympathy can't alter facts, it can help to make them more bearable.

Ah, your waifu talking to you about her soon-to-be husbando. Too bad Mina can't do the same, since-
Wait... another document?

...could it be?

Letter, Sister Agatha, Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, Buda-Pesth, to Miss Wilhelmina Murray.
12 August.

Dear Madam,—

I write by desire of Mr. Jonathan Harker, who is himself not strong enough to write, though progressing well, thanks to God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary.

OUR BOY IS BACK

OH OUR GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN HARKER HOW WE HAVE MISSED YOU

He has been under our care for nearly six weeks, suffering from a violent brain fever. He wishes me to convey his love, and to say that by this post I write for him to Mr. Peter Hawkins, Exeter, to say, with his dutiful respects, that he is sorry for his delay, and that all of his work is completed.

Ah, the classic Victorian brain fever. While emotional distress and trauma can absolutely have a physical effect, straight-up contracting a fever is not one of them.

Interesting to see that Jonathan is simply stating he finished his work in Transylvania. While I wasn't expecting him to make Sister Agatha write about lizard fashion, the fact he isn't at least trying to say he had a bad encounter with his client may be a sign of memory loss or bad denial.

He will require some few weeks' rest in our sanatorium in the hills, but will then return. He wishes me to say that he has not sufficient money with him, and that he would like to pay for his staying here, so that others who need shall not be wanting for help.

Believe me,
Yours, with sympathy and all blessings,

SISTER AGATHA.

Well, if he has lost his memories, at least he has not lost his sense of kindness. I only hope that a Romanian sanatorium is treating him better than what we would've experienced under good ol' Jack Seward's care. You just know Doc Morbs would've trying to see if Jonathan believes he can turn into a lizard or something.

P. S.—My patient being asleep, I open this to let you know something more. He has told me all about you, and that you are shortly to be his wife. All blessings to you both!

Oh my god this blorbo loves Mina so much it makes me squeal. He's gone through the Horrors and illness, and he still has the energy to be like "lemme tell you about my fiance".

He has had some fearful shock—so says our doctor—and in his delirium his ravings have been dreadful; of wolves and poison and blood; of ghosts and demons; and I fear to say of what. Be careful with him always that there may be nothing to excite him of this kind for a long time to come; the traces of such an illness as his do not lightly die away.

Well, it looks more like Jonathan is in denial rather than having lost his memories of Castle Dracula. Also, interesting to see that Sister Agatha is essentially telling Mina not to trigger his trauma, but in language that predates the modern concepts.

He came in the train from Klausenburg, and the guard was told by the station-master there that he rushed into the station shouting for a ticket for home. Seeing from his violent demeanour that he was English, they gave him a ticket for the furthest station on the way thither that the train reached.

pfffffft

It seems before the American tourist was the loudmouth who gestured too much, there was the Brit.

Be assured that he is well cared for. He has won all hearts by his sweetness and gentleness. He is truly getting on well, and I have no doubt will in a few weeks be all himself. But be careful of him for safety's sake. There are, I pray God and St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, many, many, happy years for you both.

Not until a certain vampiric asshole is in the pits of Hell where he belongs. Hopefully, Jonathan's return will help ensure that.

Johnreiter · Aug 12, 2024

Thuktun F said:
the fact he isn't at least trying to say he had a bad encounter with his client may be a sign of memory loss or bad denial.

It's also possible that he feels this is a message better delivered in person

Thuktun F said:
It seems before the American tourist was the loudmouth who gestured too much, there was the Brit.

Also, this story is so touching. Dracula stole all of Jonathan's papers and money, in an attempt to keep him trapped. But because the common people of the land are so generous, he got away anyway.

BungieONI · Aug 12, 2024

Thuktun F said:
OUR BOY IS BACK

OH OUR GOOD FRIEND JONATHAN HARKER HOW WE HAVE MISSED YOU

HE HAS ESCAPED FUCK YEAH. OUR BOY has escaped the Lizard Fashion Mafia, hooray! Here's hoping he manages to get back swiftly.

Thuktun F · Aug 13, 2024

We get a fairly short update from Mina today.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
13 August.—Another quiet day, and to bed with the key on my wrist as before. Again I awoke in the night, and found Lucy sitting up in bed, still asleep, pointing to the window. I got up quietly, and pulling aside the blind, looked out. It was brilliant moonlight, and the soft effect of the light over the sea and sky—merged together in one great, silent mystery—was beautiful beyond words. Between me and the moonlight flitted a great bat, coming and going in great whirling circles. Once or twice it came quite close, but was, I suppose, frightened at seeing me, and flitted away across the harbour towards the abbey. When I came back from the window Lucy had lain down again, and was sleeping peacefully. She did not stir again all night.

Welp, it looks like Dracula still has Lucy in his sights, but so far Mina is unwittingly thwarting him. It's quite interesting that, if you were to remove the first part of the story containing Jonathan's travels to Transylvania, Mina would not only be the main character but arguably the closest thing Dracula has to a nemesis thus far.

Twice she has stopped his attempts to drink Lucy dry, and in turn Dracula has done much to earn her enmity, between killing Mr. Swales, tormenting her fiance, and trying to eat her best friend.

Speaking of, I wonder if Lucy's trance where she points to the window is her following Dracula's hypnosis, or if she is subconsciously recognizing her attacker?

I have a feeling we'll find out soon enough.

Zap Rowsdower · Aug 13, 2024

Interesting that she specifies that Dracula's bat/bat form is very large (or, well, 'great'); indicates the limits of the author's knowledge I suppose.

My understanding is that carnivorous bats and vampire bats tend to be on the smaller end of the chiropteran scale, and the larger bats mostly eat fruit, which is not particularly threatening unless you're a vampire in a children's cartoon and you can't go above a TV-G rating

So, him being larger as a bat/having a large bat minion makes him/his minion less threatening looking, rather than more like the author must have thought

Brainarius · Aug 13, 2024

Yup the largest bats in the world, the flying foxes, live around these parts (Southeast Asia) and northern Australia. If anything people traditionally ate them. But I suppose Dracula's bat form is exceptionally big.

Thuktun F · Aug 14, 2024

Mina continues to unwittingly document Dracula's fuckery in England.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
14 August.—On the East Cliff, reading and writing all day. Lucy seems to have become as much in love with the spot as I am, and it is hard to get her away from it when it is time to come home for lunch or tea or dinner. This afternoon she made a funny remark.

"Real eyes realize real lies."

"What?"

"What?"

We were coming home for dinner, and had come to the top of the steps up from the West Pier and stopped to look at the view, as we generally do.
...
We were silent for a while, and suddenly Lucy murmured as if to herself:—

"His red eyes again! They are just the same." It was such an odd expression, coming apropos of nothing, that it quite startled me.

I slewed round a little, so as to see Lucy well without seeming to stare at her, and saw that she was in a half-dreamy state, with an odd look on her face that I could not quite make out; so I said nothing, but followed her eyes. She appeared to be looking over at our own seat, whereon was a dark figure seated alone. I was a little startled myself, for it seemed for an instant as if the stranger had great eyes like burning flames; but a second look dispelled the illusion.

Now here, we sadly get a lapse in Mina's otherwise excellent sensibility. Just a few days after Lucy was seemingly accosted by a stranger on that seat, there is a creepy-looking dude in that same spot whose appearance has made Lucy enter a trance where she utters something in recognition. One does not need to believe in vampires to think that maybe this man is bad news and should be avoided, or at least watched closely.

However, Mina makes no further note of it, and she and Lucy later head back.

Lucy had a headache and went early to bed. I saw her asleep, and went out for a little stroll myself; I walked along the cliffs to the westward, and was full of sweet sadness, for I was thinking of Jonathan.

Don't worry Mina; your blorbo is recovering and will surprise you soon.

Until then, however...

When coming home—it was then bright moonlight, so bright that, though the front of our part of the Crescent was in shadow, everything could be well seen—I threw a glance up at our window, and saw Lucy's head leaning out. I thought that perhaps she was looking out for me, so I opened my handkerchief and waved it. She did not notice or make any movement whatever.

Ruh roh, Raggy.

Just then, the moonlight crept round an angle of the building, and the light fell on the window. There distinctly was Lucy with her head lying up against the side of the window-sill and her eyes shut. She was fast asleep, and by her, seated on the window-sill, was something that looked like a good-sized bird. I was afraid she might get a chill, so I ran upstairs, but as I came into the room she was moving back to her bed, fast asleep, and breathing heavily; she was holding her hand to her throat, as though to protect it from cold.

Well, you did describe a particularly large bat yesterday, Mina. Either you need glasses, or the bat was sitting up like a bird, which is something bats don't normally do and would be oddly creepy to see.

Also, we again see that Dracula avoids confrontation despite his powers. Given that he fought the mastiff while still in the form of a 'large dog', it could be that once he transforms into a creature for the night, he cannot use his powers or transform back readily? In that case, even an unarmed schoolmistress could pose a threat to him, since bats are not famously powerful creatures.

I did not wake her, but tucked her up warmly; I have taken care that the door is locked and the window securely fastened.

She looks so sweet as she sleeps; but she is paler than is her wont, and there is a drawn, haggard look under her eyes which I do not like. I fear she is fretting about something. I wish I could find out what it is.

Probably fretting over not having enough blood. Lord knows that'd make me nervous.

It's quite distressing to see Lucy victimized by Dracula, since we cannot reasonable expect Mina to realize the situation, let alone take measures to stop it. We can only hope Jonathan or someone else finally arrives puts an end to the dramatic irony with some juicy knowledge.

BungieONI · Aug 14, 2024

Thuktun F said:
Also, we again see that Dracula avoids confrontation despite his powers. Given that he fought the mastiff while still in the form of a 'large dog', it could be that once he transforms into a creature for the night, he cannot use his powers or transform back readily? In that case, even an unarmed schoolmistress could pose a threat to him, since bats are not famously powerful creatures.

Honestly a limit I never considered in my own read of the novel, though my own assumption would be that as an incredibly cautious and meticulous creature Dracula simply did not want conflict or to give a sign that would cause someone to raise the alarm. I think he is in a vulnerable period, needing to sleep somewhere during the day and the boxes of grave dirt from Transylvania currently unaccounted for from the reader's perspective.

What is he doing with those, is he buying time with this cautious behavior? We don't know yet, but a big ruckus might still disrupt his plans.

Thuktun F · Aug 15, 2024

We get another short update from Mina today, free of Dracula's bullshit but nevertheless plot-important.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
15 August.—Rose later than usual. Lucy was languid and tired, and slept on after we had been called.

As one does when they're missing god knows how much blood. Having donated on many an occasion (sadly I cannot do so for the foreseeable future due to my medication) even a missing pint doesn't leave you lethargic, so it's worrying to see how much she's been implied to have lost.

We had a happy surprise at breakfast. Arthur's father is better, and wants the marriage to come off soon. Lucy is full of quiet joy, and her mother is glad and sorry at once. Later on in the day she told me the cause. She is grieved to lose Lucy as her very own, but she is rejoiced that she is soon to have some one to protect her. Poor dear, sweet lady!

Awwww...

She confided to me that she has got her death-warrant.

...oh.

She has not told Lucy, and made me promise secrecy; her doctor told her that within a few months, at most, she must die, for her heart is weakening.

The science of the human heart has been one that developed slowly. It wasn't until the 17th century that physicians discovered that the heart pumped blood through the body, and later still that the connection between constricted coronary arteries and heart attacks was found. There is a good chance that Lucy's grandparents were alive when the stethoscope was invented in 1816 (which was invented because the inventor was uncomfortable with having to put his ear on a woman's breast to listen to her heartbeat).

There is actually a pretty good chance that nowadays Lucy's mother could have her heart condition managed, or even treated. In 1897, however, doctors were still unsure of how heart attacks work, with many believing that angina was a cause or a disease all on its own rather than a syndrome of reduced flow in coronary arteries, and as such their treatment of trying to make the heart beat harder with medication may have actually made things worse.

Alas, Lucy's mother lives not only in this time, but in a story where it's a trope for characters to 'waste away'.

At any time, even now, a sudden shock would be almost sure to kill her. Ah, we were wise to keep from her the affair of the dreadful night of Lucy's sleep-walking.

Oh, I'm sure there will definitely be no sudden shocks now that Dracula is in England and slowly eating her daughter.

That ends the update for today. Hopefully we'll see an improvement in Lucy's condition soon enough.

Mizu · Aug 16, 2024

I'll admit I took "got her death warrent" as the mum being a criminal and shall soon be executed. Nice to hear it's instead a likelihood of death via heart attack in the near future.

Both are bad, mind, but one was considerably more surprising.

Thuktun F · Aug 17, 2024

Today we get two different sources for our update.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL
17 August.—No diary for two whole days. I have not had the heart to write. Some sort of shadowy pall seems to be coming over our happiness.

I think it rhymes with Schmacula, and is caused by being in a Victorian horror novel.

No news from Jonathan‡, and Lucy seems to be growing weaker, whilst her mother's hours are numbering to a close.

Ah, now we are getting dramatic irony involving Jonathan from the other side of things. Hopefully it doesn't last too long- Mina really needs the pick-me-up.

I do not understand Lucy's fading away as she is doing. She eats well and sleeps well, and enjoys the fresh air; but all the time the roses in her cheeks are fading, and she gets weaker and more languid day by day; at night I hear her gasping as if for air. I keep the key of our door always fastened to my wrist at night, but she gets up and walks about the room, and sits at the open window.

All of these are thus far accurate symptoms of anemia, including the shortness of breath. Not surprising- while blood-sucking vampires are not really a problem in this time (or any time really) anemia as caused by iron deficiencies, cancers, and kidney disease have been well-documented by this time.

Last night I found her leaning out when I woke up, and when I tried to wake her I could not; she was in a faint. When I managed to restore her she was as weak as water, and cried silently between long, painful struggles for breath. When I asked her how she came to be at the window she shook her head and turned away.

I wonder if Lucy is aware of her predicament, but is unable to spit it out because of some hypnotic hold Dracula has placed over her, or if her distress is because she is just as clueless to the issue as Mina is. Either way, really upsetting to see unfold.

I trust her feeling ill may not be from that unlucky prick of the safety-pin. I looked at her throat just now as she lay asleep, and the tiny wounds seem not to have healed. They are still open, and, if anything, larger than before, and the edges of them are faintly white. They are like little white dots with red centres. Unless they heal within a day or two, I shall insist on the doctor seeing about them.

Interesting that despite the association with disease that vampires have, the wounds Dracula has inflicted on Lucy are oddly sterile. It's almost like Dracula is so evil even bacteria don't like to get near him.

Anyway, let's hope that Mina calls for a doctor sooner, and the doctor doesn't bungle treatment of Lucy's condition, as was the style at the time.

Letter, Samuel F. Billington & Son, Solicitors, Whitby, to Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London.
17 August.

Dear Sirs,—

Herewith please receive invoice of goods sent by Great Northern Railway. Same are to be delivered at Carfax, near Purfleet, immediately on receipt at goods station King's Cross. The house is at present empty, but enclosed please find keys, all of which are labelled.

You will please deposit the boxes, fifty in number, which form the consignment, in the partially ruined building forming part of the house and marked 'A' on rough diagram enclosed. Your agent will easily recognise the locality, as it is the ancient chapel of the mansion.

I'm sure Stoker deliberately cultivated the strange juxtaposition of an immortal vampire warlord from Central Europe having to engage in the technical tedium of bureaucracy and legalese. It's like Sauron having to get an OSHA inspection for his foundry in Orodruin before he can use it to forge the One Ring.

As another note, again we see that the boxes are being shipped to the deconsecrated chapel of the abbey. As Dracula was able to sleep on the Demeter, it seems the location is not utterly vital, but I can very well see it being something that strengthens his ties to his new domain.

Pray do not take us as exceeding the bounds of business courtesy in pressing you in all ways to use the utmost expedition.

We are, dear Sirs,
Faithfully yours,

SAMUEL F. BILLINGTON & SON.

I'm sure selling out the country to a vampire overlord is not outside the bounds of business courtesy.

Thuktun F · Aug 18, 2024

We continue with Mina's journal account.

Mina Murray's Journal.
18 August.—I am happy to-day, and write sitting on the seat in the churchyard. Lucy is ever so much better. Last night she slept well all night, and did not disturb me once. The roses seem coming back already to her cheeks, though she is still sadly pale and wan-looking.

I'm interested as to why Dracula has abstained from feeding on her this past night. Perhaps he had to properly rest in Carfax Abbey after finally getting the boxes shipped there, and thus has been forced to give her a reprieve.

If she were in any way anæmic I could understand it, but she is not. She is in gay spirits and full of life and cheerfulness. All the morbid reticence seems to have passed from her, and she has just reminded me, as if I needed any reminding, of that night, and that it was here, on this very seat, I found her asleep.

Interesting that Mina so quickly concludes that Lucy is not anaemic, despite her own reservations about Lucy's paleness and the marks on her neck. Anemia can be caused by health conditions that only manifest later in adulthood, such as cancer, but it's possible that Mina is unaware of this and assumes that if Lucy didn't have the problem growing up, and clearly isn't bleeding everywhere, then she must still have all her blood.

Anyway, after this Lucy regales Mina with a dream she had the night of her outdoors somnambulism.

"I didn't quite dream; but it all seemed to be real. I only wanted to be here in this spot—I don't know why, for I was afraid of something—I don't know what. I remember, though I suppose I was asleep, passing through the streets and over the bridge.

So it appears that Lucy going outside was Dracula's doing. I doubt he's the source of her sleepwalking, but it seems he may have taken advantage of it to obfuscate his hypnosis. It reminds me of how serious conditions can be hidden because of chronic issues or comorbidities- a classic example would be the signs of lung cancer being ignored because the person suffering it is fat and isn't shortness of breath just something butterballs have?

Then I had a vague memory of something long and dark with red eyes, just as we saw in the sunset, and something very sweet and very bitter all around me at once; and then I seemed sinking into deep green water, and there was a singing in my ears, as I have heard there is to drowning men; and then everything seemed passing away from me; my soul seemed to go out from my body and float about the air. I seem to remember that once the West Lighthouse was right under me, and then there was a sort of agonising feeling, as if I were in an earthquake, and I came back and found you shaking my body. I saw you do it before I felt you."

I am reminded of Jonathan's description of when the weird sisters were about to eat him, of the sweetness of their breath undercut by the stench of blood. It seems that being fed upon by a vampire is not only physically violent, but it inflicts almost a spiritual violence as well, like just having the fangs in your neck exposes you to dark things humans are not meant to experience.

Then she began to laugh. It seemed a little uncanny to me, and I listened to her breathlessly. I did not quite like it, and thought it better not to keep her mind on the subject, so we drifted on to other subjects, and Lucy was like her old self again. When we got home the fresh breeze had braced her up, and her pale cheeks were really more rosy. Her mother rejoiced when she saw her, and we all spent a very happy evening together.

Given Lucy's gaiety, it appears the laugh tingles Mina's spidey-sense due to either not sounding like how Lucy usually laughs (which could mean it's forced so she doesn't let on her distress, or a sign of lingering hypnosis), or it's simply the idea of her laughing about such a strange dream.

Either way, I'm glad Mina's suspicious of it.

Thuktun F · Aug 19, 2024

More of Mina, and a return to Dr. Seward's totally effective psychiatric treatment.

Mina Murray's Journal.
19 August.—Joy, joy, joy! although not all joy. At last, news of Jonathan.

Welcome to the Ecstatic that Jonathan-Harker-Survived-Transylvania-Club, Miss Murray. We have paprikash.

The dear fellow has been ill; that is why he did not write. I am not afraid to think it or say it, now that I know. Mr. Hawkins sent me on the letter, and wrote himself, oh, so kindly. I am to leave in the morning and go over to Jonathan, and to help to nurse him if necessary, and to bring him home. Mr. Hawkins says it would not be a bad thing if we were to be married out there.

I know that Mina is over the moon and all, but the fact that she refers to Jonathan, her fiance, as 'the dear fellow' like he's just some dude she knows secondhand has me in stitches. It's so... British.

It's also interesting to see the reversal of common tropes of the time, where often the female love interest would fall ill from brain fever and have to be tended to by the emotionally stolid male lead. After seeing how well she has been handling Lucy's illness, it's no wonder that Mina would do the same for her badly traumatized love.

It is of Jonathan, and must be next my heart, for he is in my heart. My journey is all mapped out, and my luggage ready. I am only taking one change of dress; Lucy will bring my trunk to London and keep it till I send for it, for it may be that ... I must write no more; I must keep it to say to Jonathan, my husband. The letter that he has seen and touched must comfort me till we meet.

My god they are in love. How strange that one of the most emotionally captivating love stories I've encountered in 19th century literature is in a vampire techno-thriller.

Dr. Seward's Diary.
19 August.—Strange and sudden change in Renfield last night.

Lemme guess, he finally ate the cat to catch the bird?

About eight o'clock he began to get excited and sniff about as a dog does when setting. The attendant was struck by his manner, and knowing my interest in him, encouraged him to talk. He is usually respectful to the attendant and at times servile; but to-night, the man tells me, he was quite haughty. Would not condescend to talk with him at all. All he would say was:—

"I don't want to talk to you: you don't count now; the Master is at hand."

When the casual life-eater meets the competitive life-eater.

Joking aside, given that we've been dealing with Renfield's condition long before Dracula even left for England, it strikes me as once again an example of a vampire's presence negatively impacting those with preexisting conditions, in line with its metaphor for disease. From somnambulists to the mentally ill, they're all fucked when Dracula's in town.

The attendant thinks it is some sudden form of religious mania which has seized him. If so, we must look out for squalls, for a strong man with homicidal and religious mania at once might be dangerous. The combination is a dreadful one.

Interesting to see that squalls, a term referring to gusts of wind, can also refer to sudden changes in temperament. Quite fitting given the absolutely massive storm Dracula arrived in.

Anyway, Seward himself visits Renfield, and becomes convinced it is indeed religious mania. Which isn't too far off, just in the opposite direction...

These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall; but the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh, if men only knew!

Leave it to the elitist considering vivisecting people to wax philosophical about our equality before God. Also, I'd refrain from mentioning sparrows wrt Renfield. Don't wanna make him... peckish?

I'll see myself out.

He became quite quiet, and went and sat on the edge of his bed resignedly, and looked into space with lack-lustre eyes. I thought I would find out if his apathy were real or only assumed, and tried to lead him to talk of his pets, a theme which had never failed to excite his attention. At first he made no reply, but at length said testily:—

"Bother them all! I don't care a pin about them."

"What?" I said. "You don't mean to tell me you don't care about spiders?" (Spiders at present are his hobby and the note-book is filling up with columns of small figures.) To this he answered enigmatically:—

"The bride-maidens rejoice the eyes that wait the coming of the bride; but when the bride draweth nigh, then the maidens shine not to the eyes that are filled."

This last line is a reference to the Bible.

John 3:29 said:
The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete.

Essentially, Renfield is comparing Dracula to Christ, and saying he is putting aside his own desires to attend to those he serves. Which is honestly something that would probably be most appalling to 19th century English protestants reading this.

I am weary to-night and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, and how different things might have been. If I don't sleep at once, chloral, the modern Morpheus—C2HCl3O H2O! I must be careful not to let it grow into a habit. No, I shall take none to-night! I have thought of Lucy, and I shall not dishonour her by mixing the two. If need be, to-night shall be sleepless....

Chloral hydrate was a primitive sedative developed in Germany in the 1870s. It's a good thing Seward decided against taking it- overuse can result in addiction, as well as rashes, gastric discomfort, and organ failure. It's a Schedule IV substance in the US and nowadays mainly used as a date rape drug.

Familiar with the phrase "slipping a mickey"? Chloral hydrate was the OG mickey.

Later.—Glad I made the resolution; gladder that I kept to it. I had lain tossing about, and had heard the clock strike only twice, when the night-watchman came to me, sent up from the ward, to say that Renfield had escaped. I threw on my clothes and ran down at once; my patient is too dangerous a person to be roaming about. Those ideas of his might work out dangerously with strangers.

Audrey II voice: "No shiiit."

The attendant was waiting for me. He said he had seen him not ten minutes before, seemingly asleep in his bed, when he had looked through the observation-trap in the door. His attention was called by the sound of the window being wrenched out. He ran back and saw his feet disappear through the window, and had at once sent up for me.

Ah, here we get the tired trope of mental illness granting people super strength. Clearly at this point I myself would be able to bend a crowbar over my balls.

Seward gathers some watchmen and gives chase, following Renfield to Carfax Abbey.

Hey, wait a minute...

On the far side of the house I found him pressed close against the old ironbound oak door of the chapel. He was talking, apparently to some one, but I was afraid to go near enough to hear what he was saying, lest I might frighten him, and he should run off.
...
I heard him say:—

"I am here to do Your bidding, Master. I am Your slave, and You will reward me, for I shall be faithful. I have worshipped You long and afar off. Now that You are near, I await Your commands, and You will not pass me by, will You, dear Master, in Your distribution of good things?"

I wonder just how much of this is Dracula actually influencing Renfield into becoming a servant, and how much of this is Renfield's distressed psyche moulding itself against the malevolent presence triggering it, like some sort of supernatural Stockholm Syndrome.

His manias make a startling combination. When we closed in on him he fought like a tiger. He is immensely strong, for he was more like a wild beast than a man. I never saw a lunatic in such a paroxysm of rage before; and I hope I shall not again. It is a mercy that we have found out his strength and his danger in good time. With strength and determination like his, he might have done wild work before he was caged. He is safe now at any rate. Jack Sheppard himself couldn't get free from the strait-waistcoat that keeps him restrained, and he's chained to the wall in the padded room. His cries are at times awful, but the silences that follow are more deadly still, for he means murder in every turn and movement.

Jack Sheppard, also known as Honest Jack, was a small-time thief from the early 1700s famous for escaping from prison four separate times. They hanged him for it.

Just now he spoke coherent words for the first time:—

"I shall be patient, Master. It is coming—coming—coming!"

So I took the hint, and came too. I was too excited to sleep, but this diary has quieted me, and I feel I shall get some sleep to-night.

Well, glad to see that Seward is totally taking this sudden change in Renfield seriously. Lord forbid he do something like therapy instead of chaining him to a wall like an animal.

As a final note, this latest update from Seward would take a whopping 4 cylinders to record. No wonder why he was tired after making it.

Thuktun F · Aug 20, 2024

Today we get another update from Dr. Seward and his questionable practices.

Dr. Seward's Diary.
20 August.—The case of Renfield grows even more interesting. He has now so far quieted that there are spells of cessation from his passion. For the first week after his attack he was perpetually violent.

The first... week? He literally only started yesterday, unless this is actually just like the case of the Demeter's logs and you are only now putting in your journal events that happened a while ago.

Then one night, just as the moon rose, he grew quiet, and kept murmuring to himself: "Now I can wait; now I can wait." The attendant came to tell me, so I ran down at once to have a look at him. He was still in the strait-waistcoat and in the padded room, but the suffused look had gone from his face, and his eyes had something of their old pleading—I might almost say, "cringing"—softness.

Given that Renfield's mental health worsened the same time that Dracula left Whitby for Carfax, I wonder if the inverse now holds true, and Dracula is heading back to torment Lucy and thus giving Renfield's tattered sanity a reprieve.

Also, it's very amusing to me that Seward put 'cringing' in quotation marks, given that I'm sure some adults in our time are doing the same with that word, but for a very different definition.

I was satisfied with his present condition, and directed him to be relieved. The attendants hesitated, but finally carried out my wishes without protest. It was a strange thing that the patient had humour enough to see their distrust, for, coming close to me, he said in a whisper, all the while looking furtively at them:—

"They think I could hurt you! Fancy me hurting you! The fools!"

Ain't that last quote what sums up 90% of 19th century mental health treatment.

Anyway, Seward is naturally curious about Renfield's shift in behavior.

To-night he will not speak. Even the offer of a kitten or even a full-grown cat will not tempt him. He will only say: "I don't take any stock in cats. I have more to think of now, and I can wait; I can wait."

Personally, I sold my stocks in cats not long after the trailer for the movie came out

Renfield then promptly has a fit so bad he passes out, not that anyone bothers giving him treatment for it or tries diagnosing the issue.

... Three nights has the same thing happened—violent all day then quiet from moonrise to sunrise. I wish I could get some clue to the cause. It would almost seem as if there was some influence which came and went. Happy thought! We shall to-night play sane wits against mad ones. He escaped before without our help; to-night he shall escape with it. We shall give him a chance, and have the men ready to follow in case they are required....

Holy shit this is easily the worst decision you've ever made in an official capacity, Jack. Pulling this shit nowadays would get you barred from practicing medicine at best. God damn Seward's shenanigans get under my skin in a way even the blood-sucking vampire can't.

Mizu · Aug 21, 2024

Seward definitely seems to be a terrible doctor. Very much not a good way to treat people with mental illness.

Thuktun F · Aug 21, 2024

Today we get another letter.

Letter, Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London, to Messrs. Billington & Son, Whitby.
21 August.
Dear Sirs,—
We beg to acknowledge £10 received and to return cheque £1 17s. 9d, amount of overplus, as shown in receipted account herewith. Goods are delivered in exact accordance with instructions, and keys left in parcel in main hall, as directed.
We are, dear Sirs,
Yours respectfully.
Pro CARTER, PATERSON & CO.

So Dracula has officially moved his stuff into his new house, and he is fully taking advantage of British business bureaucracy to reduce his paper trail.

Somewhere in Budapest, Jonathan Harker is having a violent sneezing fit.

Thuktun F · Aug 23, 2024

We return to Dr. Seward, Undeserving of His Title, and his eccentric patient.

Dr. Seward's Diary.
23 August.—"The unexpected always happens." How well Disraeli knew life.

Benjamin Disraeli was a PM of the UK during the 1870s, and despite being the father of the modern Tories he pushed for worker-friendly legislature that improved sanitation and sanctified the right to peaceful picketing and workers being able to sue employers for abuses.

Our bird when he found the cage open would not fly, so all our subtle arrangements were for nought. At any rate, we have proved one thing; that the spells of quietness last a reasonable time. We shall in future be able to ease his bonds for a few hours each day.

Well thank fucking Christ you didn't let the man escape. If you're having this much trouble with ensuring his safety and the safety of others when he's in the asylum, it'd be grossly irresponsible to see what he does out of the asylum.

Hark! The unexpected again! I am called; the patient has once more escaped.

Well shit.

Later.—Another night adventure. Renfield artfully waited until the attendant was entering the room to inspect. Then he dashed out past him and flew down the passage.

So he literally just did the thing my cat tries to do, and it worked? Is he artful, or is are the brains of you and your entire staff just fartful?

Again he went into the grounds of the deserted house, and we found him in the same place, pressed against the old chapel door. When he saw me he became furious, and had not the attendants seized him in time, he would have tried to kill me.

Bro if you were my therapist I'd probably try to kill you too. I weep for past generations of disabled and mentally ill.

As we were holding him a strange thing happened. He suddenly redoubled his efforts, and then as suddenly grew calm. I looked round instinctively, but could see nothing. Then I caught the patient's eye and followed it, but could trace nothing as it looked into the moonlit sky except a big bat, which was flapping its silent and ghostly way to the west. Bats usually wheel and flit about, but this one seemed to go straight on, as if it knew where it was bound for or had some intention of its own.

Probably has a liquid lunch scheduled with one Lucy Westenra.

And so Dr. Seward has had his first run-in with Dracula, and immediately he realizes something is off. If he put half of his detecting-weird-animal-stuff brainpower into proper therapy, maybe Renfield would be better off by now.

The patient grew calmer every instant, and presently said:—

"You needn't tie me; I shall go quietly!" Without trouble we came back to the house. I feel there is something ominous in his calm, and shall not forget this night....

Again we see the ambiguity of Renfield and his supposed relationship to Dracula. Is Dracula actively commanding Renfield, having decided there's some use to a zoophagous patient at the neighboring asylum, or is Renfield simply dashing his psyche against a darkness that triggers his disease?

I'm sure we'll find out soon.

Let's Read Dracula [Spoiler-Free]

Ex-cultist vagrant

Seven gremlins in a trench coat

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

CUTTING FROM "THE DAILY GRAPH," 9 AUGUST

Seven gremlins in a trench coat

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Software Developer

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Letter, Sister Agatha, Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary, Buda-Pesth, to Miss Wilhelmina Murray.

Seven gremlins in a trench coat

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Ex-cultist vagrant

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Seven gremlins in a trench coat

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Software Developer

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL

Letter, Samuel F. Billington & Son, Solicitors, Whitby, to Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London.

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

Mina Murray's Journal.

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

Mina Murray's Journal.

Dr. Seward's Diary.

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

Dr. Seward's Diary.

Software Developer

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

Letter, Messrs. Carter, Paterson & Co., London, to Messrs. Billington & Son, Whitby.

You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor

Dr. Seward's Diary.

CUTTING FROM "THE DAILY GRAPH,"
9 AUGUST