"Dissecting Dracula” with Dacre Stoker
1418 Lakeside Drive, Oakland
December 20, 2024
One of the most interesting theories I’ve heard about the author of the 1897 novel “Dracula,” is that he may have been blood-let at a young age. Leeches were common remedies for a variety of ailments in the 19th century, as was medical bloodletting in general.
But there’s so much more to Bram Stoker than that intriguing bit of speculative trivia. The legacy Stoker’s work of fiction birthed persists 127 years after its publication, his meticulous creation a tale known the world over, and one that is continually reimagined and reinvented. Vampires live on.
During a presentation at the Camron-Stanford House—the last remaining Victorian house on the shores of Oakland’s Lake Merritt—Canadian-born author Dacre Stoker, the great grand-nephew of the renowned Irish author, explained that his ancestor’s mind was one obsessed with detail, minutiae, accuracy, ancient middle European folklore, and volcanoes.
Volcanoes?! I hadn’t anticipated that. But neither did I know that in addition to being fascinated by the mysterious intersection of natural and supernatural phenomena, “The Dead Un-Dead” was one of Bram Stoker’s original titles for “Dracula.” And rather than crumbling into dust when the infamous Count is staked through the heart, there was instead to be a great volcanic eruption at the novel’s climax. It was a delight to learn these kinds of things in the parlor of a dark, ornate, creaky old manse whose vibe was like a stopped clock.
Never having been inside the Camron-Stanford House, despite passing its elegantly bluenosed, almost out-of-place exterior from every angle over many years, I wandered through the second floor. All manner of Victorian (or Victorian-style) paintings, furniture, busts, statuettes, and the like filled each room, along with red bows, lighted trees, poinsettias, and other festive ornamentation for the coming Christmastide.
The theme of the evening, “Dissecting Dracula,” had me anticipating a kind of “Unholy Masquerade” with costumed goths. Many goth-types were there alright, but dressed smartly—in their preferred black, of course—and were cordial, interested, and engaged. This was no dorky cosplay thing. Dacre Stoker, who dallied around with attendees before his lecture, wore an Aloha shirt featuring prints of Dracula book covers, Victorian photos, and images of Vlad the Impaler. (I couldn’t help imagining someone wearing that very un-tropical shirt in Hawai’i.)
About half of the two dozen or so attendees had read “Dracula.” I’ve not, so there was much about the plot of the novel that I didn’t follow. Thankfully, the bulk of Dacre Stoker’s very audience participation-heavy lecture had to do with his great grand-uncle’s construction of the novel rather than specifically literary qualities.
We learned how Stoker wrote “Dracula” over 11 summers in Cruden Bay, Scotland, basing the interior layout of the castle in the novel on nearby Slains Castle, and that he attached satanic and devilish attributes to his central character due in no small part to the popularity of Spiritualism (séances, mesmerism, etc.) that was all the rage at the time. Dacre Stoker said he has spent 15 years dissecting “Dracula,” and his knowledge was exhaustive. His enthusiasm for the subject and excellent speaking skills made for a terribly interesting and elucidating talk.
After the talk, Dacre Stoker signed books for purchase: his great grand-uncle’s novel, of course, plus several of the nine titles on “Dracula” and Bram Stoker that Dacre has penned himself. The lecture had gone overtime, so with a curfew to vacate the mansion it was rather a rush for folks to buy books, ask questions, and chat with him. But, I did learn one bizarre factoid from Mr. Stoker in the brief time we were able to speak: “Dracula” was banned in Romania by Nicolae Ceaușescu from 1973 to 1989 when he was overthrown and executed during the Romanian revolution. Bram Stoker’s novel was apparently at odds with official political doctrine. It wasn’t until 1990 that “Dracula” was published in the country where its story is set.
As we exited the Camron-Stanford House into the dark, foggy cold, I felt just the slightest tingling of apprehension at the shadows around the old mansion. My willful suspension of disbelief quickened my steps on our walk to the car, in order that we not become a meal for the bloodthirsty character Bram Stoker had originally named “Count Wampyr.”
