The first vampire short story and novella, which came before Dracula, together in one Penguin Classics hardcover, a Penguin Speculative Fiction Special, with a foreword by #1 New York Times–bestselling author V. E. Schwab
A Penguin Classic Hardcover
The first vampire short story in English, The Vampyre by John Polidori, and the first vampire novella, Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, are published together in one volume. The Vampyre, first published in 1819, features Lord Ruthven, a deathly pale yet fatally charismatic nobleman who preys on women of high society and is generally considered as the first fully developed vampire narrative in English literature. It is here accompanied by Alaric Watts’s introduction, with which it was published throughout the nineteenth century, and which contains important supplementary material on vampire beliefs. Carmilla (1871–2) by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu is a nineteenth-century Gothic novella featuring a protagonist who typifies the long line of female and lesbian vampires in literature, movies, television series, and artwork. In a castle deep in the Austrian forest, Laura, a young woman, leads an isolated life with her father. A horse-drawn carriage crashes and an unexpected guest, the mysterious and seductive Carmilla, enters their lives. An early, sophisticated, and influential vampire novel, Carmilla predates Bram Stoker’s Dracula by twenty-five years and the film Nosferatu by fifty.
Penguin Speculative Fiction Special is a hardcover series of horror, science fiction, fantasy, and more published by Penguin Classics. Featuring custom endpapers, specially commissioned cover art, and introductions by scholars and notable figures, these collectible editions celebrate classics that invite us to ask, “What if?” and that, through bold imagination, alternative visions, and magical realms, transform our perception of our world.
John William Polidori was an Italian English physician and writer, known for his associations with the Romantic movement and credited by some as the creator of the vampire genre of fantasy fiction.
Polidori was the oldest son of Gaetano Polidori, an Italian political émigré scholar, and Anna Maria Pierce, a governess. He had three brothers and four sisters.
He was one of the earliest pupils at recently established Ampleforth College from 1804, and in 1810 went up to the University of Edinburgh, where he wrote a thesis on sleepwalking and received his degree as a doctor of medicine on 1 August 1815 at the age of 19.
In 1816 Dr. Polidori entered Lord Byron's service as his personal physician, and accompanied Byron on a trip through Europe. At the Villa Diodati, a house Byron rented by Lake Geneva in Switzerland, the pair met with Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, and her husband-to-be, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and their companion (Mary's stepsister) Claire Clairmont.
One night in June, after the company had read aloud from the Tales of the Dead, a collection of horror tales, Byron suggested that they each write a ghost story. Mary Shelley worked on a tale that would later evolve into Frankenstein. Byron wrote (and quickly abandoned) a fragment of a story, which Polidori used later as the basis for his own tale, The Vampyre, the first vampire story published in English.
Rather than use the crude, bestial vampire of folklore as a basis for his story, Polidori based his character on Byron. Polidori named the character "Lord Ruthven" as a joke. The name was originally used in Lady Caroline Lamb's novel Glenarvon, in which a thinly-disguised Byron figure was also named Lord Ruthven.
Polidori's Lord Ruthven was not only the first vampire in English fiction, but was also the first fictional vampire in the form we recognize today—an aristocratic fiend who preys among high society.
Dismissed by Byron, Polidori travelled in Italy and then returned to England. His story, "The Vampyre", was published in the April 1819 issue of New Monthly Magazine without his permission. Whilst in London he lived and died in Great Pulteney Street (Soho). Much to both his and Byron's chagrin, "The Vampyre" was released as a new work by Byron. Byron even released his own Fragment of a Novel in an attempt to clear up the mess, but, for better or worse, "The Vampyre" continued to be attributed to him.
His long, Byron-influenced theological poem The Fall of the Angels, was published anonymously in 1821.
He died in August 1821, weighed down by depression and gambling debts. Despite strong evidence that he committed suicide by means of prussic acid, the coroner gave a verdict of death by natural causes.
His sister Frances Polidori married exiled Italian scholar Gabriele Rossetti, and so John is the uncle of Maria Francesca Rossetti, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, William Michael Rossetti and Christina Rossetti, though they were born after his death.
His sister Charlotte made a transcription of his Diaries, but censored "peccant passages" and destroyed the original. Based only on the transcripton, The Diary of John Polidori was edited by William Michael Rossetti and first published in 1911 by Elkin Mathews (London). A reprint of this book, The diary of Dr. John William Polidori, 1816, relating to Byron, Shelley, etc was published by Folcroft Library Editions (Folcroft, Pa.) in 1975. Another reprint by the same title was printed by Norwood Editions (Norwood, Pa.) in 1978.
A number of films have depicted John Polidori and the genesis of the Frankenstein and "Vampyre" stories in 1816: Gothic directed by Ken Russell (1986), Haunted Summer directed by Ivan Passer (1988) and Remando al viento (English title: Rowing with the Wind) directed by Gonzalo Suárez (1988). He also appears as a minor and unsympathetic character in the Tim Powers horror novel The Stress o
I was very lucky to find a beautiful book containing two of the oldest vampire stories together! The Vampyr was one of the first written vampire stories in the English language, first published in 1819. Carmilla was published in 1872, and predates Dracula by 25 years! Two very foundational vampire texts. I loved Carmilla, which served as a vampire story by way of an isolated girl coming of age. The narrator is so ditzy and naive, Le Fanu does a great job of writing a sapphic story in such a subtle way that is not exploitative or a victim of “men writing women”. I was worried about Carmilla being hard to read, but I found the language digestible enough. Easily one of my favorites I’ve read in a while. It is so important to engage with these older texts that are so foundational to the genre and both of these stories are great examples of this. Quick essential reads for any vampire or horror fan!
I wish I could give this five stars but the Vampyre was just so dry. I completely understand writing a novel in the desperate attempt not to hang out with Lord Byron. Carmilla, on the other hand, felt shockingly modern in its writing style and was deliciously erotic and scientific, and honestly I think that the former is necessary to vampire fiction. What is more intimate than blood?
I’ll admit it—I’m one of those readers who often skips the foreword. But the moment I saw that V. E. Schwab penned the opening to this edition, I dove in without hesitation. Schwab could write a grocery list and I’d devour it. Their description of the vampire is haunting, visceral, and beautifully phrased—an absolutely perfect entry point into these early works of vampire fiction.
This Penguin Classics edition brings together The Vampyre by John Polidori and Carmilla by J. Sheridan Le Fanu—two stories that predate Dracula but were instrumental in shaping the gothic vampire archetype we know today. The real treat, aside from the stories themselves, is the historical background provided by Nick Groom. His exploration of the origins of vampire lore and the cultural forces that birthed these tales adds a rich layer of context that deepened my appreciation immensely.
As someone with a degree in literature—and a longtime lover of gothic fiction and vampire novels—I’m honestly shocked I hadn’t read either of these classics before now. I should probably hand in my book lover card. (But maybe I get to keep it now?) I’ve seen many vampire anthologies over the years, but this one stands out for its thoughtful layout and the unique freshness brought by Schwab and Groom’s contributions.
This is the kind of book that begs to be read on a crisp autumn night, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of something warm. I can’t wait to see the final cover design, and I’ll definitely be recommending this to all my fellow vampire lovers. Huge thanks to NetGalley and Viking Penguin | Penguin Classics for the early copy—and for finally dragging me out of my coffin to read these iconic stories.
A vampyric double header to try and open my mind to classics, I guess.
I approached both The Vampyre and Carmilla feeling unqualified. These are stories steeped in literary tradition. Both cited as formative within the Gothic and vampyric canon, and personally having read nothing beyond Frankenstein back in school before calling 'that's that, Mattress Man', it felt intimidating to approach a pair of novellas that mean so much to so many. That said, forgoing the sort of hoity-toity scaffold that would have made reading The Vampyre and Carmilla an exercise rather than an event, this collection ended up feeling strangely intimate and immediate. I never felt like I was staring at a totem or a monument. These were just wee little tales that I was allowed to read and enjoy.
The Vampyre travels at a hundred miles a minute with the lead characters zipping from England to a range of European within minutes of setting the scene. As one of the earliest prose Vampryes, Ruthven presents as a unique character: austere, charismatic, seemingly impossible to say no to, but with a visual pallor and unchanging expression that gives narrator Aubrey the willies. Despite his visual reservations, Aubrey can't help be drawn in by Ruthven's silver tongue, and we see a real push and pull throughout the narrative as Aubrey finds himself unable to ever truly escape the orbit of his terrifying aquaintance. Functional in its storytelling, The Vampyre's pace never lets up, and despite its short length, it was an enjoyable read, if only to act as counterpoint for the collections next offering.
Carmilla is something quite different. Still quiet. But what struck me most, perhaps obviously for anyone who's read the novella, were the interactions between Carmilla and Laura as the primary narrator. When introduced into the story, Carmilla, at least in the 'waking' world often presents as an obsessive, almost clingy presence. She's intensely affectionate, can demand exclusivity, and might seem to a modern audience emotionally overwhelming. Laura is clearly excited by this attention, but also confused by it. There's an insecurity as to how to process even convivial same-sex intimacy within the Victorian-era framework she understands. At night, in somniis, both Carmilla's attack and Laura's reception are different. Carmilla presents as something closer to a succubus: feeding as a vampire but also engaging sensually, thrilling and enticing Laura even as she terrifies. This makes Laura’s daytime retellings of these nocturnal “terrors” feel fractured. Fear and desire blur together, and Laura seems genuinely unable to disentangle dread from longing.
It feels odd - and worth engaging with - that such a notable sapphic text comes from a male author. Although the modern idea of the male gaze had not yet fully crystallised at the time of publication, there is still a sense that some agency is taken from the young women at the centre of the story. Carmilla was written in an era of relative societal prudence, and reading it now raises an unresolved question: is this a sincere exploration of same-sex desire filtered through Gothic metaphor, or just a titilating ghost-story that explored forbidden intimacy only by making it dark, spooky and monsterous?
A really nice little collection, tied together by an excellent foreward and editor's note.
I got this hardcover edition just to read Polidori's short story, but was instead more impressed by Carmilla. The short story has a writing style that was extremely hard to get into, and towards the ending, it felt like the narrator was skipping forward in the narrative way too much. The story was technically finished, but didn't feel that way. Carmilla, on the other hand, was a fleshed out narrative with intriguing characters. The vampire is portrayed as a calculating predator, and while there is a sapphic subtext, Le Fanu's tale is not really a love story (not any more than Stoker's Dracula is). Laura is our narrator, and is vulnerable to Carmilla precisely because she is so isolated and lonely, and desperate for any kind of friendship. The vampire lore in this is unique, and you always root for Laura to break away from her spell and realize what level of danger she's in. The confrontation in the church yard is dramatic & the ending is melancholy.
I've read Carmilla previously but never read The Vampyre before and really enjoyed the ambiguity of the tale and can see how it went to become a main influence in popularizing the vampire tropes. Carmilla remains one of my favorite vampire stories as quintessential queer vampiric storytelling.
The best forward to a vampire novel ever. V.E. Schwab rocks. Also the notes and suggestions for further reading are incredibly detailed for those interested in vampire lore.
Thank you to Netgalley and Penguin for the advanced copy of this book.
I had previously read both The Vampyre and Carmilla (although I realized I only own a copy of Carmilla). So as far as story goes I wasn't expecting anything new, I knew exactly what I was getting here.
However the forward by V.E. Schwab, the introduction, and all of the extra notes really added more than I thought they would to this book. You get the two classic stories but you also get fun little bits of their history and facts.
The Vampyre and Carmilla are both here in their entirety and are both excellent stories, especially for anyone who enjoys vampire based books. The fact they are together in one is perfect in that you can easily move from one to the other and keep them together on your shelf.
This is a collectors hardcover and the information says it will have custom endpapers and cover art. At the time of this review on both Goodreads and Netgalley unfortunately that art is unavailable and it simply says cover unavailable. For that reason alone I am giving it a four instead of a five. Because I have no idea how the book will actually look. Once it is published and we get to see the look of it I can come back and change the four to a five (or not) depending on appearance. But the other four stars are all based on how lovely these two classics are to read and how interesting the added backstories and facts were.