The Old Curiosity Club discussion

What a dramatic week!  I feel as if nearly every sentence is critical to moving our plot along.  No long evenings in a drawing room, engaging in frivolous gossip, or one character analyzing the body language of another.  No. Things happen in this book.

In chapter 9, Mina and Jonathan are finally reunited and married at the asylum in Budapest.  They've agreed to never discuss the cause of Jonathan's condition. He gives his journal to Mina, who says she will seal it and never open it unless it becomes necessary at some point.  I don't know about you, but I think I'd want a few more details before taking my vows.

Arthur's dad and Lucy's mom are both said to be in very poor health.  Why are both their parents ailing?  Is there significance to this?  We haven't even met Mr. Holmwood, Senior.  Are his health concerns merely a ploy to keep Arthur away and prevent the couple from marrying, or is there something more to it?

Both Lucy and Renfield continue to have ups and downs, moments of docile, good health and, moments of weakness in Lucy's case, while Renfield has moments of fly-eating and violent strength.   Seward allows Renfield to "escape" one night to observe what happens, and he returns to Carfax.  When Seward approaches him, he initially puts up a fight until he sees a bat, at which point he calms down and returns to the hospital. Lucy, too, is being visited by a large bat at night.

Arthur, worried about Lucy, enlists the help of Seward who, in turn, consults with a Dr. Van Helsing from Amsterdam.  We learn that Van Helsing was Seward's professor, and that Seward once saved his life.  Van Helsing finds no physical cause for Lucy's mysterious blood loss, but both doctors are concerned.

It seems, in chapter 10, that Stoker is setting up Van Helsing to be a messianic character.  At least, he speaks in cryptic parables just as Jesus did, about planting and harvesting corn.  Certainly he is meant to be a force of good who's called in to face down evil.  No spoilers, but in one of this week's chapters he specifically talks about defeating the devil. We'll keep an eye on that.

Van Helsing seems to call for transparency.... later?  He tells Seward to be aware of, and open to, anything, however unlikely it seems, but he never explains what his thoughts are. It's a little infuriating.

Lucy weakens to the point where she must have a transfusion, using Arthur's blood, which seems significant. As they move her, a "velvet band which she seemed always to wear around her throat" slips and reveals what we know to be bite marks.  Van Helsing seems to suspect their origin as well, though Harker hasn't a clue -- and isn't given one. Van Helsing brings in flowering garlic, which he places around the window and in a garland around Lucy's neck, for medicinal purposes.

When I was young I LOVED the Michael Sarrazin version (made for TV) of Frankenstein.  In it, the female monster was at a ball, and somehow the velvet choker she wore came off.  Turns out it was holding her transplanted head in place.  Or maybe just covering the scar where Frankenstein sewed her new head on.  Either way, it made quite an impact on me when I was 11 years old!  I don't recall such a scene in Mary Shelley's novel, but mentions of Lucy's velvet band jumped right out at me when I read this chapter.  Did Shelley employ this prop, I wonder, or did the scriptwriters borrow this from Stoker?

Oh, Mrs. Westenra....

You see?  This is what happens when people aren't forthcoming!  Now Mrs. W. has all but killed her own daughter.  For heaven's sake.  God protect me from people who don't tell me important things "for my own good."

But with the help of another transfusion Lucy pulls through yet again.  This transfusion must come from Jonathan.  Van Halsing replaces the garlic, and gently chastises Mrs. Westenra, making sure she doesn't remove it again. That bat is still banging against the window at night and seems displeased by these obstacles. 

A news story is printed about the escape of a wolf from the local zoo.  The zookeeper tells the paper that he encountered a man, whose description is eerily similar to Harker's description of Dracula, whose presence was agitating the wolves.  Later, Bersicker, the wolf in question who is usually rather docile, manages to mangle the bars of his enclosure and escape.  In an odd coincidence, Bersicker returns, tame as a pet dog, while the zookeeper is relating this tale to the reporter. 

Renfield is not docile.  He attacks Seward with a knife, cutting his arm.  Renfield proceeds to drop to the floor and lick up the puddle of blood.  Ew. Seward clocks him, bandages himself up, and gets Renfield back to the padded cell.

About the time Besicker goes missing, Mrs. W. comes in to sit with Lucy.  She flips out when she hears the bat banging against the window and a wolf baying outside. Her weak heart can't take it when the wolf breaks the glass window with his head, and she drops dead on top of Lucy, puling the necklace of garlic flowers from her neck in the process.  The maids arrive and become hysterical at the scene.  Lucy sends them to get a bracing drink, but far from being a restorative, the wine, which has been spiked with laudanum, knocks them all out, and Lucy is left alone with a broken window and her mother's corpse.  Lucy struggles to put all this information in a letter to Arthur, The last thing she says is this:

"The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!"

Those blue lights again! 

Whew.  I'm still recovering from our last scene, but we must press on.

Chapter 12 opens with Harker and Van Helsing arriving at Hillingham about the same time the following morning.  They find the maids, still sleeping off the laudanum, and rush to Lucy's room where they find her, near death, in bed with her dead mother. Seward wonders if it wouldn't be better to let nature take its course at this point, and Van Helsing indicates that death isn't the worst fate that may befall Lucy.  Harker doesn't question this. I think I would have. Aside from her deathly pallor, Lucy's teeth seem to be sharper than they used to be.  Nothing to see here, folks - move along.

In a moment of uncanny timing, our favorite Texan, Quincy Morris, just happens then to resurface at the request of Arthur, who sends word that his father has died.  Double whammy!  But we aren't done yet.  Mina writes that Hawkins, Jonathan's boss, had effectively adopted them, then also died, leaving the Harkers his entire estate, including his home and business.

Dare I say it?  They're dropping like flies.  Where is Renfield?

Well, he's escaping the hospital again, when he hears that moving men have come and are taking the boxes of dirt away.  He's quite agitated, attacking them and crying, "They'll not murder me by inches!  I'll fight for my Lord and Master!" 

Meanwhile, the three gentlemen are doing what they can to save Lucy, including her third transfusion, with Quincy's blood this round, in a week's time.  (I can't help but wonder... if Lucy had been a plain girl would she have been flying around by the light of the moon long before now?) The transfusion buys some time, but is not successful as the last two have been.  Arthur arrives in time to say his goodbyes, but Van Helsing is rather controlling about when and how he may kiss his fiance goodbye. Lucy and her new sharp teeth seem to be schizophrenic, wavering between the old, sweet Lucy, and a new, raging Lucy who desperately wants Arthur to bend over and kiss her.  Van Helsing shoves Arthur away before that can happen, and only allows a kiss when the sweet Lucy reappears...just before dying. Seward says (probably somewhat relieved) that it's over.  And the chapter ends thus:

Van Helsing:
“Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!”
When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered:--
“We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see.”

Okay, Van Helsing!  It's time for you to stop being so darn mysterious and start explaining what's happening.  We had a bit of foreshadowing earlier in this chapter when Quincy tells his friend about one of his horses:

"One of those big bats that they call vampires had got at her in the night, and what with his gorge and the vein left open, there wasn't enough blood in her to let her stand up, and I had to put a bullet through her as she lay." 

Perhaps Quincy is subconsciously putting two and two together.  Harker and I still have lots of questions.  Has Lucy become a vampire like those three women in Castle Dracula?  Where are they taking the dirt?  Aside from gruesome drama, how does Renfield fit in to all of this?  Were the deaths of the older generation orchestrated by Dracula for some reason, or was their timing just a crazy coincidence? What's up with the dogs and wolves?

We're not quite halfway through yet, and I can't imagine what may still be in store. I speculate that Dracula will now set his sights on Mina, and our Jesus figure (maybe - still not sure if I'm stretching on that one) and his three disciples will have to join forces to save her. At least two of them - Van Helsing and Harker - seem to understand what they're up against. Hopefully they'll share that information at some point. Will Harker rise to the occasion, or have another nervous breakdown?

Mary Lou wrote: "What a dramatic week!  I feel as if nearly every sentence is critical to moving our plot along.  No long evenings in a drawing room, engaging in frivolous gossip, or one character analyzing the bod..."

You are right, Mary Lou. This novel moves along quickly. I think, in part, the rapid pace of the novel is tied to the fact that this is a novel that incorporates the epistolary format. While we get much written communication because of this style, what we lose are descriptions of nature, a severe lack of events that occur outside the confining walls of buildings, little immediate personal emotional reactions to others, and no need for much interior monologue, all of which, in their own ways make for a much different and more sterile reading experience.

Chapter 9 presents the reader with many secrets and, I feel, misdirections. The marriage does give the reader a promise of a future, we know that the immediate past is not over, and will linger as the novel progresses. I found the phrase regarding Renfield that ‘it was almost as if there was some influence what came and went.’ The fact that we know what the ‘influence’ is while the characters in the novel do not gives the reader both an advanced suggestion of what is to befall the characters in the novel and a chill up our spines because we do know.

Ah, Lucy. Weak, pale, and throat pains. The throat. What was once in a darkened isolated area of Europe has now arrived in England, the land of this books first readers.

Mary Lou wrote: "It seems, in chapter 10, that Stoker is setting up Van Helsing to be a messianic character.  At least, he speaks in cryptic parables just as Jesus did, about planting and harvesting corn.  Certainl..."

Yes.I can see why you find Van Helsing a somewhat messianic character. I wonder if there is a reason Stoker situated his home in continental Europe and not England. Will the length of his comings and going’s be used to create suspense?

I found the phrase ‘Knowledge is stronger than memory’ to have some hidden meaning, but what that meaning is I cannot unravel yet.

Owww. The blood transfusions. They are meant to save Lucy’s life but are they also replenishing Dracula as he settles into his new home. The marks on her throat, hidden by the band.. Who did the hiding? Lucy? think she is too weak. Dracula himself? Yikes!

The gift of garlic suggests that our good doctor is aware of a possible diagnosis for Lucy’s condition. In fact, I believe he does know.

Peter - I've always liked epistolary novels and find overly descriptive novels (Steinbeck comes to mind*) a bit tedious, no matter how well written they might be. I never stopped to examine why, but I think you've just put your finger on it.

(*yes... sometimes Dickens, too.)

Just an aside, possibly humorous, but I have an app on my iPad called Carfax. It tracks the maintenance schedule for my car.

I find it both annoying and helpful. It alerts me to things I need to do, which is sometimes annoying, but it also tracks the maintenance for my car, which is helpful.

Anyway, I always think of Dracula when I see the Carfax alert, and sometimes I wonder if anyone else does, too.

Mary Lou wrote: "Oh, Mrs. Westenra....

You see?  This is what happens when people aren't forthcoming!  Now Mrs. W. has all but killed her own daughter.  For heaven's sake.  God protect me from people who don't tel..."

The confusion and doubt and speculations of the group swirl around while the reader sits with full knowledge of what horrors are presenting themselves.

It must be Dracula who was at the zoo. It is Dracula who is transforming himself into a large bat and a wolf. Drugged bottles, blue lights, a wolf who breaches a window, bodies scattered in a room. The world of the home has been breached, English society in the area is compromised.

Can’t say Stoker is unfamiliar with how to create suspense.

John,

That was the first thing I thought of when I heard the name of Dracula's rental property. I wonder if the owners of that business were aware of the connection when they chose the name.

Mary Lou wrote: "John,

That was the first thing I thought of when I heard the name of Dracula's rental property. I wonder if the owners of that business were aware of the connection when they chose the name."

Thanks for telling me that, Mary Lou. I had sometimes wondered if I was rather solitary in that thinking. I actually just got a Carfax alert this morning.

One thing I have found interesting about this novel is the structure. I frankly was not aware of all the “items” used to advance the narrative. By my count we have:

A journal in shorthand.
A diary.
Letters.
A ship’s log.
A cutting from a newspaper.
A telegram.
A memorandum.

This format certainly gives the story a feeling of being more credible than a straight narrative would have done. The different voices are like puzzle pieces the reader must put together, rather than just being spoonfed the story. It's like watching a prosecutor presenting evidence and building a fantastic case for the jury.

Mary Lou wrote: "This format certainly gives the story a feeling of being more credible than a straight narrative would have done. The different voices are like puzzle pieces the reader must put together, rather th..."

John and Mary Lou

Excellent points. I never thought about the variety of ways the story unfolds for the reader. Certainly, the intimate nature of the personal observations lends both credibility and feelings of fear and uncertainly in the reader.

Mary Lou. I like your image of the parts of the various communications being like parts of a puzzle. Certainly, one gets a feeling of belief when we read a person’s first person intimate communication.

Another thing that has piqued my interest as I read this book is how Victorian era readers felt as they read it. I have read, over the years, various descriptions of Victorians — their religious beliefs, their views of the afterlife, their views about ghosts and demons. It must have been with tingling senses and shuddering bodies and vivid horror that they read such a book.

John wrote: "Another thing that has piqued my interest as I read this book is how Victorian era readers felt as they read it. I have read, over the years, various descriptions of Victorians — their religious be..."

John

Yes indeed.