Vampires. They--are back--but we’re set to take the biggest bite out of them that
has ever been bitten over here at Top 5 Scary Videos. We’re turning the coffins--and we’re
opening the curtains. See what I did there? Of course you did, because tooth and tongue
aside--it’s clear to see that the vast majority of us are vampirical fanatics and, what better
way to scratch that particular itch--than to dive into the very rich and intricate lore
that has been documented thus far in horror history. Also, welcome to a brand new series--where
we’re going to be doing things a little differently, and attempt to take a longer
form look at some of the most influential and important lore in literature, cinema and
video games. Welcome to The Lore Explored.
Hello horror fans, what’s going on--and once again welcome back to the scariest channel
on YouTube--Top 5 Scary Videos. As per usual, I’ll be your horror host Jack Finch--as
we begin our brand new series, by curiously taking a look -- at Vampires -- in Literature.
Roll the clip. I mean, it might be a new series--but we’re still gonna roll the clip.
Ahhh. The oldest remedy. And for the curious amongst you, our first flag post in the rich
lore of vampire fiction is 1979’s Nosferatu the Vampyre, directed by the legendary filmmaker
Werner Herzog--which depicts Klaus Kinski being the creepiest Count Dracula ever depicted
on screen--building upon the critical surprise success of F. W. Murnau’s 1922 German adaptation,
Nosferatu. Obviously, we can’t begin this list without giving a direct nod to these
blood-thirsty stalkers of the silver screen--but here, for this list--we’re diving into the
lore behind Vampires in literature--and to do that, we have to first begin with a little
bit... of history.
You see, the term Vampire wasn’t actually as prolific as you may imagine, and the actual
origin behind its etymology is still a matter of debate. It wasn’t until 1734 that the
English language first saw mention of these creatures--although some French, German, Austrian
and Serbia literature contained an allusion to Vampires as early as 1718--which was believed
to be derived from the Slavic form, for Vampir. However, others believe that the Slavic languages
in turn borrowed that word from a pre-existing, less assuming Turkic term--which means witch.
Ubyr. And even stranger still--there are records of the term in Old Russian that dates back
to the 11th century, believed to be borrowed by the Turkish term that relates to the same
ancient Pagan practice--upyri.
However, the first ever mention of this term in recorded history--was back in 1047--written
in a letter to a Novgorodian Prince, which referred to him as Upir Lichyj--which seemingly
served to name him as an undead priest. Although not in direct correlation, it is thought that
Upir Lichyj--would later literally translate to Wicked Vampire. Interesting, right? I mean,
the ancient etymology of it--not the fact that a secret kingdom of bloodthirsty pagan
priests may have existed in ancient Russian.
Now--semantics aside--the exact notion of vampirism has existed in folklore for millenia,
passed down through means of spiritual texts and oral tradition. Albeit much more demonic
in origin, the ancient Mesopotamians, the Hebrews, Ancient Greeks and Romans all had
tales of creatures that we would consider to be a precursor to the modern vampire. In
these many tales of ancient belief, the act of blood drinking was actually quite prolific--and
often attributed to demons and spirits that would eat flesh and, well--drink blood. In
fact--pretty much every nation on Earth has had some form of blood drinking undead revenant
or demon--which in some cases, even acted as a deity to several ancient belief systems.
You see, it’s no wonder that the very essence of a Vampire has long been ingrained in our
cultural psyche.
However, it wasn’t until the late 17th and 18th centuries where these same shared cultural
fears would begin to make themselves apparent. The very tales that formed the basis of the
vampire legend--that would later go on to form the literature behind vampirism--first
entered into historical record in 1672. With the case of Jure Grando--a peasant that had
died 6 years previous, but had seemingly arisen from his grave to drink the blood of local
villagers in Istria, which is now modern Croatia. After the case of Jure Grando--Eastern Europe
saw a frenzy of these same vampire sightings--the most famous being that of Petar Blagojevich
and Arnold Paole--both of which were Serbian peasants--a potential explanation for the
protoslavic origin of the term vampire.
Now, the actual means of the sociological phenomena behind these historical events--if
any--are a matter for a different video, because the point is--it injected a shared cultural
belief that would quickly form the basis of one of the most important and impactful conventions
in horror fiction. Vampires. Because in 1748--during a time where these alleged vampire attacks
were still happening across Eastern Europe--a German man named Heinrich August Ossenfelder
manifested that very same zeitgeist--and produced a poem, simply titled--Der Vampir. The Vampire.
An incredibly short poem, which is written from the perspective of a mysterious man,
presented as a jilted and aggressive seducer--that lusts for a respectable and pious Christian
girl who is protected by her mother. In it, the term vampire is only addressed twice,
with:
As in vampires unmortal/folk on the Theyse’s portal
And--
Till I myself avenging/To a vampire’s health a-drinking/Him toast in pale tockay.
Although the poem itself is a direct metaphor for the desecration of religious faith, it
goes on to directly describe breaking through the girls’ bedroom window and sucking her
blood. Hmmm. Where have we heard that before, right? And in fact--the stark eroticism of
Ossenfelder’s poem would go on to influence many other pieces of vampire literature that
followed it. Several decades later, in 1773, another German poet--a man named Gottfried
August Burger--would produce a poem titled Lenore, an incredibly important landmark in
literature and a vital entry into the Gothic ballads--but a poem that never exactly used
the term vampire. Instead, it was responsible for creating another key theme that would
later appear in vampire literature. Immortality. Or, in this case--undeath. The ability for
vampires to rise from their graves in the darkness of midnight, enter the homes of their
victims--and then carry them away into the night.
After the widespread publication of Lenore, the Gothic ideal of the vampire was well and
truly afoot--and the following few decades produced several similar pieces of literature,
such as The Bride of Corinth, Thalaba the Destroyer--Percy Shelley’s The Spectral
Horseman--as well as Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s famously unfinished ballad, Christabel. However,
it wasn’t until the year 1819 where vampire literature really began to become solidified--when
a man named John Polidori, created the first prose piece of vampire fiction--ever--The
Vampyre. It featured the iconic Lord Ruthven--the character of which was actually based upon
Polidori's good friend and patient, the notorious Lord Byron.
Now, whilst Byron also had a stab of his own at vampire literature, this was the first
moment in literature where a fully formed *vampire character* would emerge, but more
importantly--it served to paint Lord Ruthven as an anti-hero, seemingly down to Polidori’s
admiration for the whims of his friend Byron, which would form the basis of a trope rarely
seen in horror or Gothic fiction--but would go on to become a key component of its themes.
That of the sympathetic villain. The anti-hero. Now, how many likeable vampires can we name
now in popular fiction? There’s just too many of them--and all of them the heroes or
heroines of their own stories. But back then--this stuff was cutting edge--or cutting teeth I
guess. The impact that Polidori’s work had on Vampire literature was huge--and throughout
the 19th century, the masses couldn’t get enough of our bloodsucking contemporaries.
In fact one of the most impactful methods of disseminating fiction in the mid 19th century,
were the classic Victorian era gothic-pulp pieces--penny dreadfuls. Short, easily distributed
pamphlets that gave rise to the essence of serialised horror--returning characters that
formed their own anthologies--a visual tapestry that I’m sure we’re all familiar with.
Well, from 1845 to 1847--the second most popular vampire since Lord Ruthven snarled onto the
scene. Varney the Vampire, a character created by James Rymer and Thomas Peckett Prest, that
successfully managed to encapsulate all of the same vampiric themes laid out before him--and
thus give rise to the popular depiction of the vampire. Long Cloaks. High Collars. Drinking
Blood. Coffins.
But there was another story that paved the way for vampire literature, before we address
the very evident elephant left in the room that we haven’t yet talked about. A lesser
known addition into the gothic canon of vampirism, but one that is without a doubt even more
important than Varney the Vampire--was with Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1871 novella--Carmilla.
And this--was the first ever depiction of a female vampire--Countess Karnstein. In many
ways, Countess Karnstein paved the way for defining moment of vampire literature--and
her influence as a symbol of occultism--as well as an enigmatic, supernatural--almost
deified creature that exists separate from the confines of civilization, is one of the
most important hallmarks for vampire fiction and gothic literature as a whole.
Because the character of Countess Karnstein--was pretty much the archetype for *the* most important
piece of vampire literature ever created. Bram Stoker’s Dracula--and without detracting
from both pieces, the similarities between the two are staggeringly clear. You see, it
isn’t with the actual inception of Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel Dracula that we need
to cast our gaze toward--because it was the impact that matters, and it goes without saying
that there is no greater effort in history to depict vampires in popular fiction as influential
and as definitive as Dracula.
Whatever the case, at the time of its release--it struck a chord across Victorian Europe--perhaps
stirring up an ancient, shared cultural fear that had long lingered within us all. Vampires
in Literature are an amalgamation of things--a collection of one convention here, and another
there--but the point of them remains the same. They are both a blessing and a curse. They’re
what we want to be--and what we want to defeat. And Bram Stoker’s Dracula was the compendium
behind that very--specific--horror.
And it’s also probably a good place to end this particular episode of The Lore Explored--because
Vampires in Modern Fiction? Yeah. There’s a lot to sink our teeth into. Well, there
we have it horror fans--our first entry into the brand new catalogue of a series--The Lore
Explored! What did you guys think? Do you enjoy this brand new style? DO you have any
suggestions on where we should steer it? Let us know your thoughts down in the comment
section below, as well as any choice picks of your own.
Before we depart from today’s video though, it’s probably apt that we take a little
look at some of the things you’ve had to say about vampires from our most recent video.
First up, Robert O says--
Damn, Robert O--you’re fearless! I mean, are you sure? That point about the Novgorodian
Prince was pretty damn convincing, right? Nation of Ancient Vampire Lords in Russia?
Yeah, I’d be scared. I mean, that’s if this whole thing *wasn’t* fictional… right.
And then finally, Schmidtallica says--
Who’s taking a shot with me every time Jack says the word vampire? …
Oh… buddy. Uhhhhh no. I hope you’re okay.
Anyway, on that health and safety note--unfortunately that’s all we’ve got time for in today's
video--cheers for sticking around all the way until the end. If you were a fan of this
video, or just Top 5 Scary Videos in particular--then please, be a dear and hit that thumbs up button,
as well as that subscribe bell, and I’ll be seeing you in the next one. As per usual,
I’ve been your horror host Jack Finch--you’ve been watching Top 5 Scary Videos. And until
next time, you take it easy.