The Nosferatu Discourse
Honestly, I get it…
The vampire wasn’t fuckable.
People who have grown up in a world where vampire are a sexy cool subclass of monster, an object of lust as well as a lusty object, are obviously going to be disappointed in the graphically monstrous depiction of Count Orlok in Egger’s Nosferatu.
As someone who grew up in the height of Twilight’s popularity, when being emo or scene was more aesthetic than unifying philosophy, I always held vampires at arms length because of the sexy connotations in the modern understanding of the monster.
When confronted with an object of lust that is presented as ugly and monstrous, it is only natural that it will be rejected with absolute disgust. When you grew up watching Gary Oldman seducing Mina Harker in Coppola’s Dracula, you have that underlying connection between “vampires” and “romance.” You want that relationship where you give yourself to the other, and want the aesthetics of a ruinous romance without all of the messy reality of how visceral a vampiric relationship would actually be.
We don’t really see the blood in these vampiric romances. We don’t have to deal with the arterial spray that would come if a vampire bit on the wrong side of the neck. We don’t have to deal with the clean up. We don’t have to face the horror that such an event would cause.
And why would we want to, when we could be swept away in a ball gown by a tall dark mysterious handsome someone who has centuries and millions to choose from… and chose you?
I was reading a book recently that put a finger on the exact problem that I had. In The Limits of Horror: Technology, Bodies, Gothic, the author Fred Botting explores the disconnect between gothic ideals and their modern interpretation. It explores the idea that gothic, in it’s nature of using monsters to highlight the ingrained fears of a repressive society and a modern world that no longer has the same ingrained taboos.
A notable section covers that commercial appeal of vampires and the subculture that has built up around them. When reporting on the “World Dracula Congress,” Botting makes an interesting observation:
“While the superficial celluloid attractions of vampirism remain good for business, there is certainly no wholehearted indulgence in a life of degradation and defilement. The report details some of the ‘other horrors’ besetting the delegates: Arlene Russo, for example, an editor of a vampire magazine, ‘is shocked at eastern Europe’s lack of vegetarian food, and at having to walk back from the restaurant through an unlit pine forest after midnight’. Vegetarianism and a disinclination for midnight darkness seem utterly out of place at an event celebrating a nocturnal bloodsucker.”
Why, when we so love vampires, do we shy away from them when their ugly, monstrous nature is made obvious?
The problem is, fundamentally, that we have all been collectively lied to. Dracula has been sexy-coded since Bela Lugosi was cast in the 1930s, with each generation of vampire getting sexier and sexier until we’ve completely culturally disconnected the monstrous from the monster. Nosferatu, from its copyright infringing roots has always been about the monster and its hold on a culturally-ideal woman.
The cultural taboos that Dracula spoke to in its gothic roots never went away, it was the cultural view of Dracula that shifted. We chipped away at the monster until we were left with something palatable and safe to lust after, and now that we are confronted with the reality of the monster we are horrified. If we are attracted to vampires, and this is a vampire, what does this say about us? It is better to just reject the unlovable parts and keep what we can tolerate instead of facing the horror head on.
We would censor and avoid an uncomfortable truth within ourselves to pacify an unrealistic ideal.
But, just as Toho’s Godzilla and the Monsterverse can coexist, we shouldn’t condemn a beautfully crafted homage to one of the tripumphs of early film just because our modern understanding of the vampire has shifted. If we can’t confront the core of our feelings, that we are in some sense morbidly attracted to the monstrous, we should not pretend like our feelings are harmless.
If you lust after the creatures of the dark, don’t be surprised when an actual monster is there to meet you.