by Stoker, Bram
“FINIS”
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE
25 SEPTEMBER
A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY
The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised with a series of events which seem to run on lines parallel to those of what was known to the writers of headlines as “The Kensington Horror,” or “The Stabbing Woman,” or “The Woman in Black.” During the past two or three days several cases have occurred of young children straying from home or neglecting to return from their playing on the Heath. In all these cases the children were too young to give any properly intelligible account of themselves, but the consensus of their excuses is that they had been with a “bloofer lady.” It has always been late in the evening when they have been missed, and on two occasions the children have not been found until early in the following morning. It is generally supposed in the neighborhood that, as the first child missed gave as his reason for being away that a “bloofer lady” had asked him to come for a walk, the others had picked up the phrase and used it as occasion served. This is the more natural as the favourite game of the little ones at present is luring each other away by wiles. A correspondent writes us that to see some of the tiny tots pretending to be the “bloofer lady” is supremely funny. Some of our caricaturists might, he says, take a lesson in the irony of grotesque by comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in accordance with general principles of human nature that the “bloofer lady” should be the popular role at these al fresco performances. Our correspondent naively says that even Ellen Terry could not be so winningly attractive as some of these grubby-faced little children pretend, and even imagine themselves, to be.
There is, however, possibly a serious side to the question, for some of the children, indeed all who have been missed at night, have been slightly torn or wounded in the throat. The wounds seem such as might be made by a rat or a small dog, and although of not much importance individually, would tend to show that whatever animal inflicts them has a system or method of its own. The police of the division have been instructed to keep a sharp lookout for straying children, especially when very young, in and around Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog which may be about.
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE
25 SEPTEMBER, EXTRA SPECIAL
THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR
Another Child Injured
THE “BLOOFER LADY”
We have just received intelligence that another child, missed last night, was only discovered late in the morning under a furze bush at the Shooter’s Hill side of Hampstead Heath, which is perhaps, less frequented than the other parts. It has the same tiny wound in the throat as has been noticed in other cases. It was terribly weak, and looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially restored, had the common story to tell of being lured away by the “bloofer lady”.
At least as far back as Elizabethan drama, the “gauche undertaker,” or one with a morbid sense of humor, seems to have been a stock character in popular entertainment. A similar recurring character in radio and television’s long-running The Life of Riley is “Digger O’Dell,” a.k.a. “The Friendly Undertaker,” given to such remarks as, “You’re looking fine, Riley. Very natural,” and “I’ve got to be shoveling along.”
A stock character is, of course, a stereotype, a shorthand way of giving the reader someone they can instantly recognize. The stereotype can provide instant audience identification. The savvy writer can then throw the audience a curveball with the stock character not performing as expected.
If the beer-gutted, hardworking truck driver is given a passion for Wagnerian opera …
If the schoolteacher with a serious health issue suddenly gets to “breaking bad” and becomes a meth lord …
If the refined “suited for a Jane Austen novel” heroine starts swinging an ax like Lizzie Borden …
You have a character who will deliver the, “Wow, I didn’t expect that!”
It is possible that Van Helsing thinks if the wrong eyes were to see Lucy’s “papers,” she might well be judged mentally ill. Even in our time, mental illness carries a stigma.
We cannot be certain, nor do we later learn, what purpose the crucifix was supposed to serve, yet we do know that this potent symbol has power to keep away evil.
Of course, Van Helsing might have shown a little of that tenderness a few lines earlier, rather than giving Seward, “We’re going to cut off her head and take out her heart. Okay by you?” But there are times when, though Dutch, Van Helsing seems “almost Teutonically brusque.” Or am I stereotyping?
We begin to understand the promise Van Helsing made Lucy when she asked him to “ … give me peace!”
This is one of Stoker’s brilliant “little plot points.” Dr. Seward is trusting of human nature, aspiring the highest motives to the servant: There is nothing condescending in the tone of this changed man …
A few chapters ago, Seward might have been suspicious of anything/everything on the part of everyone/anyone. But he has changed. However, Van Helsing informs him there is indeed cause for cynicism!
Yeah, I’d say so. I’d also say that Stoker was absolutely right to avoid giving us all the details of the real estate transactions for which Harker was responsible way back when! It certainly would have been an “everything you never wanted to know” moment, an information dump for no purpose, serving only to make the reader say, “Will you get on with it!?”
Long before John Gray, writers like Stoker recognized the gender or social differences discussed in Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus. I’ve mentioned Jerry Williamson’s remark about a writer’s need for psychological knowledge. Let’s add sociological knowledge as well.
Once upon a time, it was not only okay for a man to smoke, it was expected. If you are writing historical fiction, whatever the norm was for the time has to be considered as opposed to “what should have been if only they were all as socially aware and sensitive and smart as we are now.” This includes references to healthy habits, gender relations, and those of class, race, nationality, and politics. This isn’t to say one should make characters as “non-PC” as possible, but an author must be aware of the values and conditions of the time.
The superhero team is bonding. Is Van Helsing Mr. Fantastic? What roles do each play? What do they bring to the table? What will your character bring to the table? You’ll find a handy character development guide in the back of this book!
Why does Mina adopt a near-telegraphic style at this point? Because it gives us a change of pace. We’ve had the moving, near monologue passage of Dr. Seward’s diary, but now we need to cover a lot of information quickly and so … it’s Mina in the “bang it out” mode.
Do you need red eyes to sufficiently give it away?
… and big, white teeth?
Consider the psychology of recovering Harker. Why does he not say, “That’s Dracula! I’d know him anywhere!” At the very least, he is of a very fragile state of mind. The man was only recently trapped in a castle in a faraway land with only the Undead for company. Now someone who strikes him as possibly the same man appears and he cannot—perhaps will not—believe his eyes for the sake of his sanity.
Imagine all the ways you can toy with a character of yours who has suffered through such a traumatic experience. Stoker is toying with Harker now to great effect.
Exactly! We do articulate the heaviest moments of our lives in a few words. It’s the more mundane moments, like when we cannot match socks taken from the clothes dryer, that inspire long-winded (often vulgar) speeches.
Hmm. Van Helsing has demonstrated a pretty sick sense of humor from time to time. Here, again, we see Stoker’s skill at characterization. Given Van Helsing’s personality, grim and determined, if occasionally sentimental, he will not be Ellen DeGeneres-lighthearted funny.
The “Kensington Horror” or “Stabbing Woman” or “The Woman in Black.” We know who the “bloofer lady” is, don’t we? Dracula is frightening as the red-eyed man standing over the damsel with fangs unleas
hed, but he’s equally frightening because he can appear in almost any place, in any form, and terrorize a neighborhood in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine or know how to counteract. He comes, he kills, he escapes, and no one knows how or why, and thus they are powerless to stop him. In this sense, Dracula may be considered a prototype of the strange, otherworldly “Unstoppable Killer,” a la Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, the Predator, the Terminator, Killer BOB (for any Twin Peaks fans out there), or even Cormac McCarthy’s Anton Chigurh.
We have some insight into why vampires are interested in children, but to actually see it happen adds shock value, just as it did when Harker “witnessed” the vampires devouring the baby in Transylvania.
Chapter 14
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
23 SEPTEMBER.—Jonathan is better after a bad night. I am so glad that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps his mind off the terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that he is not now weighed down with the responsibility of his new position. I knew he would be true to himself, and now how proud I am to see my Jonathan rising to the height of his advancement and keeping pace in all ways with the duties that come upon him. He will be away all day till late, for he said he could not lunch at home. My household work is done, so I shall take his foreign journal, and lock myself up in my room and read it …
24 SEPTEMBER.—I hadn’t the heart to write last night, that terrible record of Jonathan’s upset me so. Poor dear! How he must have suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if there is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and then write all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it all? I suppose I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject to him. And yet that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain of him, poor fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and sent his mind back on some train of thought. He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding day he said: “Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, mad or sane …” There seems to be through it all some thread of continuity. That fearful Count was coming to London … If it should be, and he came to London, with its teeming millions … There may be a solemn duty, and if it come we must not shrink from it. I shall be prepared. I shall get my typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing. Then we shall be ready for other eyes if required. And if it be wanted, then, perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can speak for him and never let him be troubled or worried with it at all. If ever Jonathan quite gets over the nervousness he may want to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out things, and see how I may comfort him.
LETTER, VAN HELSING TO MRS. HARKER
24 SEPTEMBER.
(Confidence)
“Dear Madam,
“I pray you to pardon my writing, in that I am so far friend as that I sent to you sad news of Miss Lucy Westenra’s death. By the kindness of Lord Godalming, I am empowered to read her letters and papers, for I am deeply concerned about certain matters vitally important. In them I find some letters from you, which show how great friends you were and how you love her. Oh, Madam Mina, by that love, I implore you, help me. It is for others’ good that I ask, to redress great wrong, and to lift much and terrible troubles, that may be more great than you can know. May it be that I see you? You can trust me. I am friend of Dr. John Seward and of Lord Godalming (that was Arthur of Miss Lucy). I must keep it private for the present from all. I should come to Exeter to see you at once if you tell me I am privilege to come, and where and when. I implore your pardon, Madam. I have read your letters to poor Lucy, and know how good you are and how your husband suffers. So I pray you, if it may be, enlighten him not, least it may harm. Again your pardon, and forgive me.
“Van Helsing”
TELEGRAM, MRS. HARKER TO VAN HELSING
25 SEPTEMBER.—Come today by quarter past ten train if you can catch it. Can see you any time you call.
Wilhelmina Harker
MINA HARKER’S JOURNAL
25 SEPTEMBER.—I cannot help feeling terribly excited as the time draws near for the visit of Dr. Van Helsing, for somehow I expect that it will throw some light upon Jonathan’s sad experience, and as he attended poor dear Lucy in her last illness, he can tell me all about her. That is the reason of his coming. It is concerning Lucy and her sleep-walking, and not about Jonathan. Then I shall never know the real truth now! How silly I am. That awful journal gets hold of my imagination and tinges everything with something of its own colour. Of course it is about Lucy. That habit came back to the poor dear, and that awful night on the cliff must have made her ill. I had almost forgotten in my own affairs how ill she was afterwards. She must have told him of her sleep-walking adventure on the cliff, and that I knew all about it, and now he wants me to tell him what I know, so that he may understand. I hope I did right in not saying anything of it to Mrs. Westenra. I should never forgive myself if any act of mine, were it even a negative one, brought harm on poor dear Lucy. I hope too, Dr. Van Helsing will not blame me. I have had so much trouble and anxiety of late that I feel I cannot bear more just at present.
I suppose a cry does us all good at times, clears the air as other rain does. Perhaps it was reading the journal yesterday that upset me, and then Jonathan went away this morning to stay away from me a whole day and night, the first time we have been parted since our marriage. I do hope the dear fellow will take care of himself, and that nothing will occur to upset him. It is two o’clock, and the doctor will be here soon now. I shall say nothing of Jonathan’s journal unless he asks me. I am so glad I have typewritten out my own journal, so that, in case he asks about Lucy, I can hand it to him. It will save much questioning.
LATER.—He has come and gone. Oh, what a strange meeting, and how it all makes my head whirl round. I feel like one in a dream. Can it be all possible, or even a part of it? If I had not read Jonathan’s journal first, I should never have accepted even a possibility. Poor, poor, dear Jonathan! How he must have suffered. Please the good God, all this may not upset him again. I shall try to save him from it. But it may be even a consolation and a help to him, terrible though it be and awful in its consequences, to know for certain that his eyes and ears and brain did not deceive him, and that it is all true. It may be that it is the doubt which haunts him, that when the doubt is removed, no matter which, waking or dreaming, may prove the truth, he will be more satisfied and better able to bear the shock. Dr. Van Helsing must be a good man as well as a clever one if he is Arthur’s friend and Dr. Seward’s, and if they brought him all the way from Holland to look after Lucy. I feel from having seen him that he is good and kind and of a noble nature. When he comes tomorrow I shall ask him about Jonathan. And then, please God, all this sorrow and anxiety may lead to a good end. I used to think I would like to practice interviewing. Jonathan’s friend on “The Exeter News” told him that memory is everything in such work, that you must be able to put down exactly almost every word spoken, even if you had to refine some of it afterwards. Here was a rare interview. I shall try to record it verbatim.
It was half-past two o’clock when the knock came. I took my courage a deux mains and waited. In a few minutes Mary opened the door, and announced “Dr. Van Helsing”.
I rose and bowed, and he came towards me, a man of medium weight, strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise of the head strikes me at once as indicative of thought and power. The head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows come down and the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the sides. Big, dark b
lue eyes are set widely apart, and are quick and tender or stern with the man’s moods. He said to me:—
“Mrs. Harker, is it not?” I bowed assent.
“That was Miss Mina Murray?” Again I assented.
“It is Mina Murray that I came to see that was friend of that poor dear child Lucy Westenra. Madam Mina, it is on account of the dead that I come.”
“Sir,” I said, “you could have no better claim on me than that you were a friend and helper of Lucy Westenra.” And I held out my hand.
He took it and said tenderly, “Oh, Madam Mina, I know that the friend of that poor little girl must be good, but I had yet to learn …” He finished his speech with a courtly bow. I asked him what it was that he wanted to see me about, so he at once began:—
“I have read your letters to Miss Lucy. Forgive me, but I had to begin to inquire somewhere, and there was none to ask. I know that you were with her at Whitby. She sometimes kept a diary, you need not look surprised, Madam Mina. It was begun after you had left, and was an imitation of you, and in that diary she traces by inference certain things to a sleep-walking in which she puts down that you saved her. In great perplexity then I come to you, and ask you out of your so much kindness to tell me all of it that you can remember.”
“I can tell you, I think, Dr. Van Helsing, all about it.”
“Ah, then you have good memory for facts, for details? It is not always so with young ladies.”
“No, doctor, but I wrote it all down at the time. I can show it to you if you like.”
“Oh, Madam Mina, I well be grateful. You will do me much favour.”
I could not resist the temptation of mystifying him a bit, I suppose it is some taste of the original apple that remains still in our mouths, so I handed him the shorthand diary. He took it with a grateful bow, and said, “May I read it?”