This is a fascinating work, both because of its completely unique perspective and setting in the scope of vampire lore, but also because of its political and social commentary. It's worth highlighting that the first vampire story written in the Americas -- and one of the first vampire stories written ever -- features a black protagonist who survives his own (repeated) attempted murder, escapes slavery, and goes on to help lead the Haitian revolution. While the language is dated and the characterizations rely on some racial stereotyping, I definitely read this as a pro-emancipation work that's sympathetic to the Haitian cause. It's a satire that feels entirely modern in its combination of horror tropes with ironic dark comedy.
To begin, the depiction of the French slaveowner, Mr. Personne*, is grotesque, but also bumbling and absurd. He's an evil man. Right off the bat, he attempts to murder a starving 10-year-old slave boy because he appears too small and weak to work the sugar plantation. That boy, our titular main character, survives Mr. Personne's assaults in increasingly improbable and ludicrous ways while Mr. Personne grows flustered and desperate. It's clear that Mr. Personne is very much in the wrong, casually committing crimes against humanity, while also not in the position of unshakable power he thinks he is.
This opening scene is wonderfully written, including some top-notch descriptions of setting and action. There's this image of the boy crab walking out of a jewel bright Caribbean ocean in a scene that could be shot, no notes, in an Exorcist-like film sequence today.
Anyway, the boy turns out to have preternatural strength, and when Mr. Personne attempts to throw him into a bonfire to burn him to death, the boy instead flips Mr. Personne into the fire. In the ensuing chaos, the boy slips away to freedom. Mr. Personne dies of his burns, but before he does, his wife reveals that their infant son has been murdered... or something: only the baby's skin and nails are left inside his crib.
The story then shifts narrative perspective to Mrs. Personne, who, after her first husband's death, remarries, then remarries again... and again....and again. From a modern perspective, this is a strange move narratively, but I think this enumeration of her veritable parade of husbands is actually supposed to demonstrate her lack of character: Mr. Personne's defining feature is his casual cruelty while his wife's is faithlessness, shallowness, and frivolity. This matters, because a lot of the pro-emancipation elements of this story rely on us disliking -- or at least dismissing -- her character in the future.
It also matters because she's got a boatload of husband corpses in the ground by the time the black vampire reappears, many years later. And, gentle reader, let me tell you: the black vampire is all grown up and he is hot. We get multiple paragraphs describing how much of a thirst trap this vampire is:
"One of them was a coloured gentleman, of remarkable height, and deep jetty blackness; a perfect model of the CONGO Apollo. He was drest in the rich garb of a Moorish Prince... The manners and conversation of the PRINCE had an irresistible charm. The regal port was manifest in his gigantic and well proportioned frame; and majesty was conspicuous on his brow, without its diadem. The turban and crescent had never graced a nobler front; but the winning condescension of his tones and language, while they could not banish the feeling of the presence of royalty, removed every restraint incident to that consciousness."
Mrs. Personne falls hard for this strange prince, and, after he negs her for a while, she agrees to marry him that very evening. Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Personne's new husband takes her and his white page boy, Zembo, to a graveyard at midnight, where the vampire and his page start feasting on dead bodies and Mrs. Personne begins to suspect something is wrong.
Interestingly, in this version of vampire lore, vampires can drink the blood of the dead as well as the living, which, frankly, seems more ethical. However, in drinking the blood of the dead, the dead are brought back to life as vampires. (It's like vampires playing by zombie rules.) So now the story becomes a comedy of errors when multiple of Mrs. Personne's ex-husbands are brought back to life and all start fighting over who's her real husband. The black vampire prince is also a husband at this point, so it's a real mess. Hilariously, the black vampire suggests that all the other ex-husbands duel it out, knowing full well that, as vampires, they're immortal undead and can't actually kill one another. So several ex-husbands just end up in this toxic-masculinity-fueled slapstick situation, beating each other and stabbing each other to no avail.
The black vampire eventually gets tired of this, promptly stakes several ex-husbands back in their coffins, and reveals his identity to Mr. and Mrs. Personne. He is the boy Mr. Personne tried to murder so many years ago. And Zembo, his white page boy, is their son who the vampire has raised and educated as his own son. (Not the worst case scenario for Zembo... We're told another of Mrs. Personne's sons died of intoxication at the age of 7, so...) The black vampire is tired of all their bullshit, tells them that the island of St. Domingo (aka Hispaniola) is no longer safe for them, advises them to leave, returns Zembo to them, and peaces out.
Rather than leave the island, Zembo advises his parents to follow the vampire, which they do, discovering that he and other vampires and slaves have banded together to plan a revolt against white slaveowners. Hidden, they all watch a meeting of these conspirators deep in a cave. The black vampire delivers a fiery speech. Unfortunately, the army shows up just then and defeats all the vampires and slaves. The black vampire is killed, and the depiction is extremely dramatic: "So when a Gœtulian lion is pierced by the light bamboo, overpowered by the hunters, he struggles in his thrall like an Enceladus under Ætna, and dies at last with heart-wrung tears of anguish, and reverberating roars of hatred!!!" (Three exclamation points!)
The rebellion defeated, Zembo renames himself Barrabas after the prisoner freed by Pilate instead of Jesus (no commentary intended there, I'm sure); his parents get back together; Mrs. Personne has the vampire's baby; and the entire thing ends with an extremely confusing note about the author and his hot takes on politics, finance, the press, dandies, and New Jersey.
So. After all that, I have some notes.
First, while I do think this is an anti-slavery, pro-emancipation work of fiction (arguably, the FIRST pro-emancipation work of fiction published in America, predating other American abolitionist works of fiction by at least 5 years), the ending is baffling and the author's decision to tack on an entire "Morals" section at the end drastically undercuts the strength of the anti-slavery message. The choice to end the story with the slave rebellion being defeated comes across as an odd bit of revisionist history: the Haitian revolution ended in French defeat in 1804, 15 years before the publication of The Black Vampyre. The most generous read I can give on this front is that I guess there was still fighting and power consolidation on the island until 1822, so maybe things didn't seem so finalized yet? Alternatively, are we, as the readers, supposed to understand that the vampire-slave coalition was ultimately successful, given the history of the Haitian revolution and that this one defeat of the conspirators is only a small setback? If so, why not show the Personnes being dragged from their beds and massacred in 1804? I mean, I'm here for it.
As for the author's musings on the vampiric nature of finance, politics, the press... and dandies... This observation is by no means unique: most vampire references up to and including Bram Stoker were critiques of finance and politics or other predatory power structures, including The Vampyre by John Polidori, which was a Lord Byron caricature published in 1819 and a direct inspiration for The Black Vampyre. What is confounding is how the inclusion of this laundry list of criticism seems to unintentionally (?) equivocate the actions of a black former slave fighting for freedom of the oppressed with the sins of the land-owning, capital-holding elite. These groups are literally diametrically opposed. They're necessarily opposed since some of the "property" owned by the monied class of the time were slaves and since a lot of the capital being invested in Wall Street came, either directly or indirectly, from industries that profited from slavery. My most generous read of this section is that this is intended to be a "The black vampire isn't the real vampire: the idiots in power and anyone else of whom I personally disapprove are the real vampires... Which is eye-rolly moralism, even if true. Cut it, "D'Arcy", you absolute windbag.
The final note to make about this story is about the interesting gender dynamics. I'll admit that on first read, I was a little disgruntled with the characterization of Mrs. Personne as a faithless, frivolous, airheaded slut. (No need to slut-shame when confronting your readers with a sexy-ass vampire.) However. White women, while historically oppressed, were also oppressors. White women owned slaves, abused slaves, and profited from slavery. Mrs. Personne is one such white woman, and I think making her a Bad Person is a very good choice. I just wish it wasn't done primarily based on her choice to serial-marry her way through the island. Mrs. Personne, I'm here for your early-1800s trampage. Just... have a single shred of morality and social conscience while doing so. And don't let your 7-year-old children drink themselves to death.
Overall? 3.5 stars.
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*"Mr. Personne" means "Mr. Nobody" or "Mr. No One" in French. In keeping with the horror-comedy genre, it reminds me of Clue's "Mr. Body."