Finding the Monster in Dracula

Dracula, Feminism, and the Victorian Era

Dear Reader,

I’d like to start today off by saying a huge thank you every single one of you. Thank you for reading, commenting, and sharing. It means so much to me. Last week’s essay is already the single most-read piece I’ve ever written. Who knew that this little farm girl from Idaho would have so many of her highly improbable and ambitious dreams come true?

Today, I planned to start talking about my very own Dracula research project, but I’ve been mulling this over and decided that this essay needed to come first.

I don’t think it’s a secret that I am very passionate about Gothic Literature, or that this passion has centered around studying and researching Dracula for the last few years. That being said, I have no interest in romanticizing the Victorian Era, so today we’re going to address some of the elephants in the extremely sanitized room of our collective idea regarding that time period.

Even if you aren’t a horror writer, the historical and cultural significance of Bram Stoker and his work can’t be denied. But I am a horror writer, and my research is based on the rare opportunity to study Bram Stoker’s personal working notes for writing his masterpiece. It’s an exciting opportunity, and one that, as it turns out, other people are interested in reading about. I love sharing my experience with you. I’d also like to provide a well-rounded picture of the era we’re discussing.

My first essay about Mina mentions how the driving force in my curiosity was that the contradictions presented in the novel are so obvious by our modern standards that I wondered if Bram Stoker was making a jab at the injustices he witnessed. I mean, a major theme of Dracula is about understanding the fear of the “other.”

It took a lot of reading and research to figure out, but the answer is—it’s complicated.

Trigger Warning: While I will never post anything designed to manufacture outrage, there is some historically related political content ahead.

Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat: during the late Victorian Era, the beliefs of most people in W.E.I.R.D. (Western European Industrialised Rich Democratic) countries were inherently racist and sexist, along with a whole host of other atrocious problems and behaviours. Many, many people suffered and lost their lives for it, and it was wrong. Full stop.

In Britain, this was an era where pseudo-scientific racism, classism, and sexism were the norm. Slavery was abolished in 1833, but the idea that morality was an inherited trait remained prevalent. The term “eugenics” was coined by Francis Galton in 1883, and the concept was widely driven by the social, intellectual, and political elites.

Women couldn’t vote, they weren’t entitled to their own earnings, they couldn’t sue in their own name, and couldn’t own property until 1887. The concept of the “New Woman” was popularized in the 1890s, and while some saw it as early progress towards women’s suffrage, the “New Woman” was also widely criticised, often being labeled as a “third sex,” or a “man hater.”

In chapter eight of Dracula, Mina Harker makes light of calling herself a “New Woman,” but her character remains firmly rooted in traditional Victorian values. Bram Stoker was a man of the theatre. He wrote Dracula with sensationalism in mind, but that sensationalism is more about the horrors inflicted upon these beautiful, young, and proper English women by an invading, monstrous “other.”

So, was Bram Stoker racist and sexist? Yes, absolutely. Was he more racist or sexist than the general population? That is a topic of much debate among Stoker scholars, but I think he was, and explaining why would take a whole new series of essays. If ya’ll want to hear about it, let me know in the comments, and we can make that the topic for our next essay series.

Here’s the thing, though. Bram Stoker wasn’t a monster, and not because of the popular excuse of being a “product of his time.” Racism, classism, and sexism were always wrong, and will always be wrong. Bram Stoker wasn’t a monster because people are so much more than the most monstrous part of themselves.

The reality is that every single one of us holds some racist, classist, and sexist ideals. If we want to eliminate a bias, we first need to accept that simple principle. These beliefs exist on a spectrum, and behavior that harms shouldn’t be tolerated. Still, I know I can only root out bias in myself by studying history, literature, politics, and our world with a critical eye. I hold my values and principles in a vice grip, but beliefs and opinions evolve as my understanding grows.

This might tank my meager popularity, but my values demand that I don’t shy away from the truth in shame, embarrassment, or misguided attempts at self preservation. Navigating these concepts is something everyone needs to evaluate against their own values, but I know the change I want to see in this world. For that dream to be realized, I need help make my tribe bigger instead of kicking folks out for failing purity tests of knowing and saying all the right things.

In Martin Luther King Jr.’s I Have a Dream speech, Dr. King says,

“In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.”

Dr. King knew that the momentum required for sustained change would take every able pair of hands he could win to his side. He seized every opportunity to bring those who opposed him closer. That sounds like a pretty good example to me.

Next week, we return to the cryptic symbols of Bram Stoker’s notes and my research to discover their hidden meanings.

Thank you for being here, Dear Reader. Thank you for caring about me and the words that trickle out of my brain.