Another vampire picture mystery

GothzNewz

Some time ago, I discussed well-known 'picture of a vampire with a stake embedded in its heart' (left), and thought I'd discovered its illustrator—William Mortensen (1897–1965). But I'm not a hundred percent sure he did it.

Mortensen 'was one of the most well known and respected photographers in America in the thirties' and his 'obscurity today is mainly due to his championing of Pictorialism, a force within photography that promoted retouching, hand-worked negatives, chemical washes, and an artistic, painterly approach that soon faded with the advance of modernism.'

The version you've seen in books, is taken from the Bettmann/CORBIS photo archives. It's called 'Engraving of the Death of a Vampire', but gives no further details than that. Not even a date. The picture hosted by them—at least, on their website—is also black and white.

Flickr

However, Mortensen's vampire (left) was rendered in a sort of sepia tone. So where does this colour version come from? Was Mortensen actually its original illustrator, after all? Was it merely 'colourized' by someone else at a later time? If so, who? Why?

Was the picture an example of Pictorialist technique? If so, what was the original image? Could the colour version actually be a painting which Mortenson, uh, Pictorialised? If so, why would Bettmann/CORBIS list it as an 'engraving'. Hmm.

I'd love to get to the bottom of its origins, as it's one of my favourite vampire images. It's a graphic late-nineteenth century style engraving—I have my doubts that it was actually created during that period—and, apart from the fangs, gets close to what a staked vampire corpse of folklore would've looked like.

Happy Hallowe'en!

Nightmare Factory

Before uncorking the cab sav, thought I'd commemorate the Spookiest Night of the Year by sharing an obscure folkoric belief mingling vampires and everyone's favourite gourd-like squash. Over to you, T. P. Vukanović:

The belief in vampires of plant origin occurs among Gs. [Gypsies] who belong to the Mosl. [Moslem] faith in KM [Kosovo-Metohija]. According to them there are only two plants which are regarded as likely to turn into vampires: pumpkins of every kind and water-melons. And the change takes place when they are 'fighting one another.' In Podrima and Prizrenski Podgor they consider this transformation occurs if these vegetables have been kept for more than ten days: then the gathered pumpkins stir all by themselves and make a sound like 'brrrl, brrrl, brrrl!' and begin to shake themselves. It is also believed that sometimes a trace of blood can be seen on the pumpkin, and the Gs. then say it has become a vampire. These pumpkins and melons go round the houses, stables, and rooms at night, all by themselves, and do harm to people. But it is thought that they cannot do great damage to folk, so people are not very afraid of this kind of vampire.¹

As an added bonus, trick or treat yourself to a guest blog I wrote for Reading with bite, discussing the links between vamps and All Hallows' Eve. In the meantime, have a safe and happy Hallowe'en! Brrrl, brrrl, brrrl!

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^{1. TP Vukanović, 'The vampire (in the belief and customs of the Gypsies in the province of Kosovo-Metohija, Stari Ras and Novopazarski Sandžak, Yugoslavia)', Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society, 3rd ser, vol. 37, no. 1–2, 1958, p. 27.↩}

The first true vampire: another candidate?

British Library

I'm glad I bought Fastitocalon's first and second issues. Eugenio M. Olivares Merino's two-part discussion on revenants and vampires in Medieval English literature did not disappoint.

I previously outlined the case for Peter Plogojowitz being the first true vampire on account of the necessary 'ingredients' present: undead corpse, bloodsucking, exhumation, destruction of corpse.

These traits were used in conjunction with the earliest use of the term 'vampire' in association with an undead being—rendered 'so sie Vampyri nennen' in a report on Plogojowitz's exhumation.

However, Olivares Merino makes a strong case for these traits also being present in a British case from the 12th century—best known as the Vampire of Anantis Castle:

The English translation that I have been using ("that it might be have been taken for a leech filled with the blood of many persons") does not seem to reproduce the meaning of the Latin text, which literally means: 'so that they understood that he had been a leech of many'. For lack of a better word, William of Newburgh might have used the Latin term 'sanguisuga, ae', to convey precisely that the revenant had done exactly what leeches do: suck blood from others.¹

In terms of its relevance to Medieval vampirism, he also notes, 'This is a relevant novelty that has not appeared in any of the cases referred to so far, a landmark in the genesis of the vampire myth in Europe.'² In other words, far from proving that vampires—in the sense we've discussed so far—were common during this period, such traits are an aberration; perhaps hinting at the 'missing link' in the evolution of revenants to vampires.

After all, the vampire didn't spring just pop out of nowhere. Even the Plogojowitz case hints at prior manifestations of the phenomena. The author of the report noted: 'if I did not accord them the viewing and the legal recognition to deal with the body according to their custom, theu [the villagers] would have to leave house and home, because by the time a gracious resolution was received from Belgrade, perhaps the entire village—and this was already supposed to have happened in Turkish times [i.e. Ottoman occupation]—could be destroyed by such an evil spirit'.³ There are also clear antecedents in the Russuab stryges and Polish upior featured in late 17th century issues of the Mercure galant.

By the time the Plogojowitz and Paole cases rolled around, it was clear the vampire—by that name—was an established 'being' or tradition, its undead state and bloodsucking tendencies recurring throughout the region. The question is, what is the connection between the folklore of Northern Europe with Eastern Europe? Did they intersect at some point? If so, when? How did the vampire develop in Eastern Europe? Did it form spontaneously? Was it influenced? Who knows. That's the on-going riddle for me.

In the meantime, if you can get a handle on Olivares Merino's articles, I highly recommend you do so. His overview of the English 'vampire' cases is one of the most thorough I've had the pleasure of reading.

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^{1. EM Olivares Merino, 'Reporting the stubborn undead: revenants and vampires in twelfth century English literature (II)', Fastitocalon, vol. 1, no. 2, 2010, p. 166.↩}

^{2. ibid.↩}

^{3. Cited in P Barber, Vampires, burial, and death: folklore and reality, Yale University Press, New Haven, Conn., 1988, p. 6.↩}

Für deutsche Leser

LIT Verlag

As Niels revealed, the Vampirismus und magia posthuma im Diskurs der Habsburgermonarchie will be out soon. The book features proceedings from the 2009 Vienna conference.

For a taste of what this book'll contain, read his notes on the conference. I'm particularly interested in Christian Reiter's assertion that 'the epidemic in Medvedja in 1731-32 was caused by anthrax. Furthermore [concluding] that Flückinger and co. had falsified their report concerning the corpses not in a "vampire state" with the intent of obtaining remuneration for their examination of the corpses.' I'd love to see how he proves that.

The 'epidemic in Medvedja' refers to the Arnold Paole case. The importance of that case in vampire history can not be underestimated: it gave us the word, 'vampire'. It's because of that case that we know vampires are undead, bloodsucking corpses which you gotta stake through the heart. 

It's because of that case, that the symbolism inherent in the vampire's 'existence' found broader application, giving way to vampire literature—indeed, John Polidori's 'The vampyre; a tale' (1819) was partially inspired by the first English press coverage of the case: 'In the London Journal, of March, 1732, is a curious, and, of course credible account of a particular case of vampyrism, which is stated to have occurred at Madreyga, in Hungary.'

Therefore, imagine if the popularity of the vampire in Western culture started with a guy—who faked a report. Brilliant.

Following that line of darkness

EnCompass Editions

Yesterday, in referring to Robert A. Douglas' That line of darkness, I said 'it seems this work is only the first volume of Douglas' exploration. I couldn't find any info on the next one. I'll look into that.' And I did.

I contacted the book's publisher, EnCompass Editions, and asked: 'There are a few references to it being the 'first volume', so could you please tell me when the second will be available?'¹ 

EnCompass Editions' head honcho, Robert Buckland, responded, 'Thank you for your inquiry. Bob Douglas is still reviewing his manuscript for the second volume so we're not able to name a publication date.'² He also offered to put my name on a list so I'd know when it's available. Sweet.

This has gotta be a first. A two-volume work that 'traces the intricate web of Zeitgeist that surfaced in one of the nineteenth century's strangest literary creations and flowered on the battlefields of the First World War', Dracula. That's a lotta print to cover such a niche subject. I'm impressed.

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^{1. A Hogg, 'That line of darkness‏', Thursday, 27 October 2011 12:35:58 PM, <thevampirologist@hotmail.com>.↩}

^{2. R Buckland, 'Re: That line of darkness‏', Friday, 28 October 2011 12:32:28 AM, <words@encompasseditions.com>.↩}

Dracula, vampires, World War 1

Encompass Editions

The Borgo Post's latest issue arrived in the mail, today. I was having a read through it and came across Elizabeth Miller's review of Robert A. Douglas' That line of darkness. 

Miller says the author 'takes as his starting cue Gothic novels, most notably Bram Stoker's Dracula, Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jeykll and Mr Hyde, and Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Grey peering through the lens of these extraordinary works to explore the class, race and gender tensions in late nineteenth-century Britain.'¹ According to Amazon, the paperback edition was published 10 May 2011; the hardback a month later. News to me.

Admittedly, it doesn't cater to my preferred area of vampire interest (folklore), but I've added it to my Amazon Wishlist, anyway. The publisher's website contains more info on the book, even reprinting its bibliography. Interestingly, it seems this work is only the first volume of Douglas' exploration. I couldn't find any info on the next one. I'll look into that.

Funnily enough, it's not even the first scholarly book to put heavy emphasis on the connection between vampires and societal tensions leading to the First World War. That honour probably goes to Sara Libby Robinson's Blood will tell: vampires as political metaphors before World War 1 (2011).

Before that, Terry Phillips related 'The discourse of the vampire in First World War writing', published in 2006.² Meanwhile, Kim Newman's 1995 novel, The bloody Red Baron—the second book in his 'Anno Dracula' series—is set during the War.

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^{1. E Miller, review of That line of darkness: the spirit of Dracula and the Great War by Robert A. Douglas, The Borgo Post, Fall 2011, p. 3. The book's actual subtitle is The shadow of Dracula and the Great War. Perhaps a misprint on Miller's behalf.↩}

^{2. T Phillips, 'The discourse of the vampire in First World War writing', in P Day (ed.), Vampires: myths and metaphors of enduring evil, At the interface/probing the boundaries 28, Rodopi, Amsterdam, pp. 65–80.↩}

I caved

I wrote, 'Despite the exorbitant price, I'll probably bite the bullet and buy 'em anyway.' And I did. On October 12th. Shipping cost €7,50. The issues arrived in the post, today.

Academia.edu

I'm looking forward to reading Eugenio M. Olivares Merino's two-parter, 'The (Medi)evil dead: revenants and vampires in twelfth century English literature', in particular. 

He has a thing for this era, as he also wrote 'The Old English poem "A vampyre of the Fens": a bibliographical ghost' (pdf) for Miscelánea: A Journal of English and American Studies, vol. 32 (2005).

'A vampyre of the Fens' is a poem supposedly written 'a the beginning of the eleventh century', which not only makes it the world's oldest vampire poem, but features the first reference to 'vampyres', anywhere. However, as Olivares Merino's essay attests, someone done goofed along the way.

Olivares Merino is a Professor of English at the Universidad de Jaén.