Today is the 118th anniversary of the publication of Dracula, Bram Stoker’s masterpiece (even if it went under-appreciated for years after his death).

I would argue that one of the more under-appreciated books of the late 19th-century is Dracula.  Not overlooked, mind you–the book was published in 1897 and hasn’t been out of print since. And not unknown. Anyone who’s seen Sesame Street knows about Count Von Count–did you ever notice his fangs? Ever had Count Chocula cereal? Worn those awful wax teeth at Halloween? My point exactly. But how many people know about the man behind all those fangs and capes? Or the man who dreamt him up in the first place…?

Bram Stoker was born in Dublin on November 8, 1847, and spent a good deal of his early childhood confined to his bed with a “mysterious disorder of the blood” (cue menacing laughter). During this time, his mother read him folktales of Ireland, as well as the more popular Gothic authors of the time.

Following his study at Trinity College in Dublin (studying mathematics, surprisingly), Stoker became assistant to Henry Irving, a man he had come to idolize in spite of (or perhaps because of) his over-the-top, flamboyant, demanding personality. Irving, along with being one of the greatest actors of his age, was also, apparently, a bit of a slave driver. He sucked the blood from all those who worked for him…you might say. He was also known for walking around London wearing a long black cloak. He was also tall, with high cheekbones, a large, broad forehead and a hooked nose, and wore his hair swept back off his head. Noticing a similarity here?  It appears that even Irving recognized the similarities between himself and Stoker’s fictional count, but apparently, he found it a kind of bizarre compliment.

The book was supposed to be a play. A five act play that Stoker wrote one summer while staying at Whitby. He had done research on Transylvania at the British Library and spent months collecting local stories, superstitions and sea tales from residents of Whitby and from the Captains of the hundreds of ships that sailed into the harbor. When Irving rejected the play, Stoker turned it into a book and…the rest, as they say….was history.

I love Dracula. Unabashedly adore it. From an historian’s point of view, it is one of those books that absolutely defines its era:  Dracula was published at a time when the English feared that the the global influence of the British Empire was declining, and falling prey to foreign influences and vices, just like the Count menaces the stalwart crew who pledge to hunt him down.  As Dracula himself notes, Vampires are created at the end of empires.  Later, Van Helsing himself notes, “Let me tell you, he is known everywhere that men have been…He have follow the wake of the berserker Icelander, the devil-begotten Hun, the Slav, the Saxon, the Magyar.” What could be more terrifying for a British public already aware of the impending end of their Dynasty?

Technology abounds. Dr. Seward records his diary on phonograph cylinders. Mina used shorthand and later a typewriter. They utilize the telegraph and railroads constantly. This is no mythical reality into which these characters are plunked. They are living in the here and now. And yet, a mere few hundred pages later, they are donning garlic and brandishing crosses and taking on all the powers of superstition and heathenism that their century has unequivocally rejected. The book is not so much about the triumph of technology as it is about the fragility of that technology to protect its characters.

And then there is the Count. Seriously, in all the Bela Lugosi nonsense, no one ever gives Stoker enough credit for creating a truly appealing villain. He’s repulsive (the dude has hairy palms. Come on, that’s gross) and at the same time is one of the most compelling and vital characters in the whole book.  All the other characters travel on compulsion: Harker goes to Transylvania for work, Mina goes because Jonathan is ill, Van Helsing is ‘compelled’ by his work to go back and forth from Amsterdam.  But the Count travels because he wants to.

And he also wants revenge. It’s never specifically mentioned in the book, but it has been postulated that the reason Stoker has Dracula goes for everyone’s female companion is because his wife (the real Dracula’s wife, mind) committed suicide thinking that the Turks had taken the Castle and her husband.  Stoker blended fact and fiction to create a man who acts with the strength of history behind him, and the power of myth around him.

And then there’s Mina.  Seriously, no one ever gives Mina enough credit.  There are piles of papers that discuss Stoker’s use of women in the book and how the concept of ‘The New Woman’ of the late-19th-century is punished through this work, while women in traditional roles are saved. And certainly, in some senses this is true.  Lucy, who has three suitors, a disposable income and generally lax morals, is killed quite gruesomely. And Mina, despite her run-in with the Count, survives to marry and have a child. But is it really that simple?

Stoker’s mother was a feminist, and I tend to think some of that wore off in this book. Mina, if you actually look at her, is one feisty little lady. She goes running around in bare feet across town to save her friend, she travels to Hungary alone to help her fiance, and  insists on being a full-fledged member of the Fearless Vampire Hunting Party. If anything, Mina is threatened most by the hidebound men around her who insist on maintaining her innocence and refuse to let her in. But it is Mina who finds a way into the Count’s mind, and who listens to his thoughts, giving her friends the chance to catch him.  It is she who returns to Romania to find his lair, and, by the end of the book, while the boys are running around with machetes, she’s the one with the gun.

Quite simply, there is no other book like Dracula, and nothing that can quite compare to it.  Come find out yourself by checking out a copy today, and look for more recommendations this Thursday in our If/Then post!

Today, May 22, is the 156th birthday of Scottish physician and author Arthur Conan Doyle.  Though he is now revered as the creator of “the world’s first consulting detective”, the one and only Sherlock Holmes, Doyle himself would have wanted you to know so much more about him.  For instance, he was a historian, publishing an impressive account of the Boer War in 1900, and a history of the British army on the Western Front during the First World War.  It was because of these writings that he was knighted in 1902 (not for the publication of The Hound of the Baskervilles, as many at the time thought).

He was also an avid (if not terribly gifted) athlete, and played on a cricket team with Sir J.M. Barrie, Rudyard Kipling, and A.A. Milne, among other literary celebrities.  The team was called the “Allahakbarries”, which Barrie thought meant “Heaven Help Us” in Arabic.  The team refused to practice on an opposing team’s pitch before a match because, as Barrie said, “It can only give them confidence.”  The team never won a match, which is a polite way to say they were really, genuinely bad, but they apparently played with great enthusiasm, which has to count for something, right?

Speaking of his acquaintances, Doyle was quite the connected late-Victorian gentleman.  He and Barrie had a long-standing friendship, and even penned a light opera together called “Annie Jane, or the Good Conduct Prize”.  The show was a complete financial failure when it debuted in 1893, but that didn’t stop Barrie from writing a delightful, darkly funny Holmes pastiche entitled “The Adventure of the Two Collaborators”.  You can read the full story in its absurd, surreal entirety here.   He was also acquainted with Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula…though it seems that Doyle was not too impressed with the great Count.  In “The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire”, Holmes tells Watson, “Rubbish, Watson, rubbish! What have we to do with walking corpses who can only be held in their grave by stakes driven through their hearts? It’s pure lunacy.”

Doyle was also something of a detective in his own right.  Perhaps the most famous case in which Doyle involved himself was that of Oscar Slater, who had been falsely convicted of murder in  1909.  Doyle, convinced of Slater’s innocence, publicly advocated for his release so adamantly that Slater actually smuggled letters out of prison to Doyle, who employed what he called the “Sherlock Method” to re-evaluate the evidence and re-interview witnesses, ultimately leading to Slater’s release in 1927.  You can read more about the case here.

So, in tribute to the all-around intriguing man who was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, we include here a reading list for those looking to know more about Doyle, and the generations of writers his work has inspired.  Come into the library and check some out today!

Arthur Conan Doyle : a life in letters: Probably one of the best ways to get to know Doyle is through his own words, and this annotated volume of nearly ever letter he ever wrote is fascinating, and surprisingly engaging.  Here you can meet Doyle as a student, as a struggling doctor, a family man, and as a world renowned author dealing with the weight of his own fame.

The Lost World: Michael Critchon owes every ounce of credit for his work to Doyle, who first came up with the idea of a remote island populated by ferocious dinosaurs.  Doyle’s Professor Challenger stories are pulse-pounding, thrillingly imaginative science fiction stories that haven’t lost any of their fun over the years.  Though the public may remember Sherlock Holmes, Doyle himself loved Professor Challenger, and even dressed up as him for press photos.

The Baker Street Letters: Not long after Sherlock Holmes first graced the pages of The Strand magazine, fans were writing letters to the nonexistent address 221B Baker Street.  Michael Robertson’s novel begins when brothers Nigel and Reggie Heath open a law office at the famous address.  When an eight-year-old girl writes to Sherlock Holmes in a desperate attempt to clear her father’s name, the hapless Nigel decides to take on the case, leaving an inconveniently dead body on the floor of his office, and forcing his brother and his part-time girlfriend to follow him to Los Angeles, where even further intrigue awaits.  The follow-up novel, The Brothers of Baker Street, brings the Heath brothers back to investigate the murder of two tourists in London in a case complicated by the descendant of one Professor Moriarty.  These books are delightfully clever and insightful tales that stand on their own, but will delight fans of the Holmes cannon who will recognize numerous inside jokes and references in the midst of this mystery.

The Patient’s Eyes : The Dark Beginnings of Sherlock Holmes: David Pirie’s series takes as its inspiration the relationship between Doyle and his mentor, the remarkably observant Dr. Joseph Bell, the man who would become the model for Sherlock Holmes himself.  In Pirie’s work, the young Doyle finds himself involved in the case of a young woman who is troubled by the phantom image of a solitary cyclist who disappears whenever he is followed.  Though Doyle doubts the seriousness of the case, Bell recognizes in the woman’s tale a far more sinister plot.  Fans of historical mysteries will love the gritty, realistic details in this story, and fans of Doyle’s detective will recognize a good deal of Holmes’ methods in Bell’s investigations.  The two other books in this trilogy, The Night Calls and The Dark Water continue to develop this uncanny relationship and hint to the development of Holmes in Doyle’s imagination.

Moriarty: Anthony Horowitz is one among a number of authors to develop the character of Holmes’ arch-nemesis, the nefarious genius Professor James Moriarty.  In this particular adventure, Moriarty survives the Falls of Reichenbach only to find his criminal empire threatened by a potential rival.  Desperate and under attack, the Professor finds himself in an uneasy alliance with a Pinkerton Detective, and a disciple of Holmes’ from Scotland Yard.  Readers unfamiliar with Moriarty’s role in the Holmes stories will have no trouble falling into this story and its marvelous historic details, and those who know the Professor only through Holmes’ descriptions will delight in the way that Horowitz expands and develops the character into a three-dimensional and thoroughly engaging anti-hero.  Horowitz also penned The House of Silk, the only Holmes’ pastiche to be sanctioned by Arthur Conan Doyle’s estate.

The Final Solution : A Story of Detection: Though Michael Chabon never mentions Holmes by name, the mystery featuring an elderly bee-keeper on the Sussex Downs will immediately recall the great detective in retirement to Holmes devotees.  But you don’t need to know much about Holmes to appreciate the genius of Chabon’s bittersweet exploration of growing old, coping with loss, and making new friends, as young German boy, fleeing the horrors of World War II, arrives in England, and meets an old and weary man who used to be a famous detective…