I lay my head on a thousand beds / It's been a test to see how far a man can go without himself / I think I lost the only piece that held it all in place / Now my madness is the only love I let myself embrace (Adaption – The Weeknd).
Not to start this review out by speaking like a Nosferatu… but hello there, I’m here to tell you that I really enjoyed this book! Well, I guess that's more Obi-Wan Kenobi than Dracula, but whatever. Anyway, I’m in a good mood right now because I’m proud that I finished this book without giving up at any point! I mean, I almost never “DNF” a book, so this is hardly anything new, but it's still cause for celebration, no? Because I can be quite the giver-upper with literally anything else! A show’s second episode will be filled to the brim of unfunny jokes (“bird-blindness?” Okay, sure) and I’ll drop that shit in a second, a game gives me one too many walls of texts in the tutorial? I’m out. I even stopped a stream of the only streamer I like because he and some randos were playing a game where they had to guess music, so when they kept getting all the R&B songs wrong I was so angry that I had to shut it off right quick! With books though, I like to stick it out. I don’t even know why, considering literature arguably requires the most patience out of any pastime but here we are. This is starting to sound like a humble brag (#humblebrag), but maybe my newfound willpower is because I’ve been trying to go through all the gay genres like I’m collecting the Infinity Stones! I’ve got gay contemporaries and gay mysteries down pat, so it was only a matter of time before I tackled Gay Horror. Eek! And to that end, well, the book version of Interview with the Vampire is quite a bit different than what those gay gif sets I’ve seen on Tumblr would have had me believing. Still pretty gay, but not as openly so, perhaps? Of course, how explicitly gay something is definitely isn’t an indicator of quality in the plainest sense, which is a lesson I’ve learned all too quickly after reading the worst book in the world, Playing the Palace, but it was still a bit of an adjustment after realizing just how blurred the lines between reprehensible and sympathetic this novel portrayed both Louis and Lestat. I haven’t seen the show yet (just the gay gifs, like I said), but it's clear that there were some very important changes made in the show in order to make the story more easily accessible to the masses (including me, I'm with the masses on this one). Sure, that’s not always a good thing, but softening the blow in certain places in order to adjust to the change in times never really hurts. Because with this book, even Louis, the narrator and arguably the most sympathetic character in the novel outside of the dude giving him the interview, is a damn plantation owner. Like, the story tries to go on and on about how him turning into a vampire was his start of darkness or whatever, but let's be real here, by that metric the man was evil long before he started chomping on some necks! And while I don’t mind authentic depictions of history, that still doesn’t change the fact that this aspect of his character put a cap on how much sympathy I’d ever feel for him in any given scene. Oh boohoo, Mr. Antebellum South over here is crying about humanity again, like I could give a shit. Say what you will about Quentin Tarantino, but he definitely had the right idea that the only nuance slave owners deserve is giving them just enough time to show how evil and dumb they are before Django takes them out.
I don't know, maybe I just needed Lin-Manuel Miranda to write a little rap and then everything would be totally fine again, but aside from the lyrical prose, I couldn't find anything of the sort to alleviate such concerns. Oh, you know what? Since Louis lives forever, maybe he can write a little "Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Reynolds' wife apologize for getting married on a plantation" apology post on his Instagram and we'd all forgive him because he feels really, really bad about it. Though, with the severity of Louis' actions, he would need the ukulele to really drive home the apology. You know, the works. Look, I’m not saying I'm cancelling Lestat and Louis, but that's only because cancelling somebody has never worked successfully except for when the world all kindly banded together against DJ Khaled after he proudly proclaimed that he doesn’t orally reciprocate to his lovers. For all the tears cried, there's no doubt that every character is a monster and I was about ready to call Van Helsing on these dastardly devils by the time I reached paragraph four! Anyway, as far as queer allegories go, I'll just say that there's a reason why Interview with the Vampire has the reputation that it does in the community. I know Anne Rice said any queer interpretation was unintentional at first, but come on now, this book's gayness was about as clear as the light of day Louis and Lestat will never see again. I’m aware that the show made the relationships between Louis and Lestat and Louis and Armand and Louis and the interviewer explicit, but I still don’t know where I stand in regards to the source material, or how comfortable I am with labeling the book version queer considering the vampires are little more than vicious predators or mindless monsters, with even “morally good” Louis losing control and indulging in the vampire lifestyle being presented as a moral failing. Here’s the thing about representation, if things are dire enough, the drought long enough, then pretty much anything can be interpreted in a positive light. Let's travel back to the year of 2014 for a second and take a listen to “Break Your Heart Right Back” by Ariana Grande, as I’ve often seen it called an LGBT+ anthem for some reason, even though I always found it to be a rather mean-spirited. I mean, I'll nod my head along for sure, but if we were to listen to the lyrics closely, they’re actually about her boyfriend cheating on her (a common enough theme in music), but the twist here is that he cheated on her with another man! Dun dun dunnn! Man on man action, can you believe it!? Taking the lyric “what goes around, comes around,” and the cheeky sample from Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” into account, this can only imply that Ari-Chan here is getting revenge on her ex by outing him. It's the whole, “I'm an ally, I love the gays! Unless it's somebody I don’t like, then it's cool to make fun of their sexuality” sentiment. So yeah, I guess it’s “good representation” when you take into account when it came out (get it “came out” heh heh), but when you look at it through a modern lens, then things don’t quite hold up. Nonetheless, positive interpretation or nah, Interview with the Vampire is queer and it is a good book, even if those two aspects exist parallel in my mind rather than actually meeting at any point.
“People who cease to believe in God or goodness altogether still believe in the devil. I don’t know why. No, I do know why. Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult.”
Besides, regardless of any personal opinion on my end, it can’t be denied that this book did have a profound effect on a lot of gay men throughout its history, and it did come out (ha ha “come out” …wait, I did that joke already) during a turbulent time in queer history (when isn't it a turbulent time in queer history?), so the fact that the novel was able to touch so many people shouldn’t be ignored. It's interesting because we live in a time where there are plenty of queer books out right now, but just like anything that gets too commercialized, they can sometimes feel like they’re written about queer folk rather than for us, if you catch my drift. You know the ones, that despite literally being LGBT+ fiction, they’re written with an overwhelmingly heteronormative gaze where instead of telling an authentic story, the prose feels like we’re being gazed at nature documentary style like the wild animals across the Serengeti. I want to be offended, but I guess it does work both ways, because whenever I want a peek into what’s going on with het culture, I just listen to the latest Sabrina Carpenter! “A little communication, yes, that's my ideal foreplay. Assemble a chair from IKEA, I'm like, oooh ahhh” …Girl. But yeah, an oversaturated market will always produce slop. It's an eventuality, really, and to me these books are more like the literature equivalent of a gentrified Chinese restaurant like Din Tai Fung, because everybody knows that any self-respecting Chinese person wouldn’t be caught dead in that overpriced, overly illuminated, overly sanitized joint! Well, I like their dumplings and I’m Chinese, but you'll never catch me calling myself self-respecting. Anyway, my point is that Interview with the Vampire still remains as impactful today as it ever was, and if nothing else, I did find my copy of the book in a closet (no joke). If that weren’t so on the nose, then I’d probably take it as some kind of message from the gay gods. So yeah, I read a lot of vampire books, and one aspect of this novel that I really enjoyed was noticing how much of a missing puzzle piece it felt like in the pantheon of vampire literature. It’s hard not to notice the difference in the “evil servants of the devil” depiction pre-Interview with the Vampire and the haunted and tortured, yet sympathetic and romantic figures seen in most vampire media after this book was put out in the world. It can't be denied that this book set a precedent for the genre, and even if people scoff at Twilight or the Simon Snow books, there’s no doubt that they owe a lot of their popularity to this book right here. Though I will say that studying the timeline also highlights just how sanitized and whittled down the creatures of the night have become in recent days, because even though Interview with the Vampire is one of the most popular examples of a sympathetic vampire, the book still chronicles how tortured a life being such a creature would entail. Weirdly enough, outside of straight up horror like Sinners, I think What We Do in the Shadows is the closest thing to this book in capturing just how callous and amoral vampires are by nature.
Anyway, not to get all “YouTube Essay” on you, but I think the reason why this book had such a different take on genre than those that preceded it was because this book isn't really about vampires, but rather uses them as a helpful shorthand and metaphor for irreparable grief and how living on after losing a loved one can feel like a hellish forever. I found this novel to be greatly affecting, and had a hard time continuing on at points due to how emotionally devastating the story often was. To that end, I don’t know if I can continue reading the sequels, seeing as this one worked as almost the perfect stand-alone, in that it gives the reader just the perfect amount of mystery to the unique mythos without getting too into the weeds. I know that the rest of the series goes on to give more in-depth world-building to the vampire society, but I honestly don’t whether or not seeing these characters in a more serialized format would endear me to them more, or just dilute their characterizations to the point where they’re more like Marvel superheroes than the romantic figures portrayed in this novel. I guess this is my way of segueing into talking about Lestat, because yeah, while he basically becomes the main character and a beloved anti-hero later on, I found his depiction here as nothing more than a pathetic monster to be more than enough for a fully realized character arc. I know we're supposed to like him later on when he gets his own point-of-view novels, and I haven’t read them yet so I don’t know how I’ll feel about him down the line, but I truly cannot imagine ever coming around on him. Even without the the fact that this was my introduction to him, I'd never forget his beautifully tragic final moments, as I really felt like it was a proper send-off to the character. I’ve seen it said that Anne Rice hadn’t fully nailed his characterization down yet while writing this book, but… how can that be? This is a full ass novel and he gets a full ass character arc with more than enough screen time to hint at an eventual path to redemption, but rather than absolution, he’s given as definitive an ending as can be where he’s forever latching on to a past relationship and so nostalgia poisoned that he sees it as “the good ole days,” unable to care for himself and mumbling incoherently to nobody. I mean, I liked it. It was a perfectly befitting ending and underlined the pervasive nature of grief quite nicely. So, imagine my shock at how upon further research, this bit is quickly explained as Louis being an unreliable narrator (cop out in my opinion) in a long line of Lestat’s more unsavory traits being sympathetically retconned away. So that begs the question, will these character remain as faithfully awful and terribly captivating the longer I read this series? I guess we’ll see. As it stands, I see Interview with the Vampire as singularly haunting novel about loneliness bringing people together and the dread of realizing that when companionship isn’t connected by warmth, but rather necessity, that horrible loneliness comes right back around and becomes as pronounced as it’s ever been. With an eternity to live the only answer left to find is that... this is all there is, and all that there will ever be.
When the sun comes up, you're searching for a love / So your heart won't lead you to anyone / When the sun goes down, I know what you become / You become awake, unlike the rest of us.