“You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me, and hating me through death and after.”

Bram Stoker’s Dracula is universally known as the world’s foremost fictional vampire–but what most people don’t realise is that another vampiric story predates Stoker’s by twenty-five years and served as an influential inspiration for the novel. What’s even more fascinating is how unequivocally queer this gothic novella is.

Synopsis

In a “picturesque and solitary” castle in Styria (a state of Austria), teenage Laura lives with her father. As a child, Laura experienced a vision of a beautiful woman in her bedroom who curiously bit and punctured her breast. Despite the disturbance to the household, they assured Laura that it was just a dream, but insist on securing their home. Years pass, and with no one her age to keep her company, Laura is distraught to learn that the niece of her father’s friend (General Spieldorf) has suddenly and unexpectedly died, before she could come and stay at their castle. 

As Laura longs for a new companion, a carriage accident outside their home brings Carmilla into her family’s care and the two instantly recognise each other instantly from the childhood “dreams”. Months pass and Carmilla and Laura grow very close with Carmilla often making undeniably romantic advances towards Laura, who reciprocates them in spite of Carmilla’s abrupt mood swings, her refusal to disclose any information about herself, her unusual sleeping habits and avoidance of prayers. 

During Carmilla’s stay, Laura begins to have terrible nightmares of a large beast entering her room and pricking her breast with its needle-like teeth. As Laura’s health declines, her passionate relationship with Carmilla grows and so do her father’s suspicions that their guest isn’t quite who she claims to be. 

Carmilla Versus Dracula

“the image of Carmilla returns to mind with ambiguous alterations–sometimes the playful, languid, beautiful girl; sometimes the writhing fiend”

Originally serialised in the literary magazine The Dark Blue in late 1871-early 1872, Le Fanu’s Carmilla is gothic literature at its finest. Stoker’s Dracula was not published until 1897 and it contains many influential references to its predecessor – first person accounts, which Stoker expanded into an epistolary structure (involving diary entries, letters and newspaper articles) and comparable symptoms of vampirism (unusual nocturnal habits, shapeshifting abilities and unnatural beauty contrasted to their pale and sickly appearance during daylight hours). 

The characters are also eerily similar, particularly the vampire experts; Baron Vordenburg of Carmilla and Dracula’s notable Abraham Van Helsing who investigate the supernatural anomalies and organise attacks on the vampires but even more remarkable are the female characters. Carmilla and Laura’s dynamic was reproduced and sidelined into the relationship between Lucy Westenra and Mina Harker – both work as foils to each other, whose relationships are tested and are broken to serve the symbolic conquering of female sexual desire. 

Though Le Fanu’s story is female-centric with only nameless, secondary men who are useless and unproductive to the story, Stoker’s efforts to further promote the patriarchy are evident. In his male-dominated novel, the epitome of the Victorian gentleman is able to defeat a distant menace (feminism) and save the damsel-in-distress (Mina) from the same fate as her sexually liberated friend (Lucy). While there are similarities and differences to the novels, there is no doubt that Stoker found inspiration for his novel in Le Fanu’s writing. 

Sapphic Stories

“Darling, darling. I live in you, and you would die for me. I love you so.”

A niche trope in gothic horror and later in 20th century exploitation films is the ‘Lesbian Vampire’ archetype – using metaphors to bypass the heavy censorship of LGBTQ+ themes. Through fantasy, these characters joined social realism despite the subsequent demonisation of sexual desires and behaviours of transgressive women. However Le Fanu escapes the parasitic symbolism of lesbianism through the mutual attraction between Laura and Carmilla. 

While homosexuality was criminal, “passionate friendships” between women were common though secretive. Le Fanu’s circumspect representation of sapphic relationships unfortunately instigated moral panic within Victorian society (that was already plagued with tuberculosis and syphilis), leading instead to reinforced heteronormativity and sexual restraint. 

The Inspiration for Generations 

“Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either.”

It is thanks to the work of Le Fanu that we have the vampire literature we have today – not only did he inspire Stoker with his portrayal of vampirism as a disease and themes of sex, blood and death, he was also Bram Stoker’s mentor and even his editor during both their times at The Dublin Evening Mail. 

As Dracula has inspired the ages, so has Carmilla – literary adaptations such as An Education in Malice by S.T. Gibson reimagines Carmilla in a 1960s Massachusetts college setting, while Kat Dunn’s recently published Hungerstone offers a compulsively sapphic and feminist reworking set in the Peaks during England’s industrial revolution. Aside from literature, Carmilla’s appearance in the Castlevania action-adventure platform games and its subsequent Netflix series cements her legacy and verifies her status as one of literature’s most influential vampires.   

Final Thoughts

Carmilla is a thoroughly enjoyable and underrated novel with compelling, fleshed-out, and believable characters – which is rare given the Victorian era’s inadequate portrayal of women. Its exploration of female desire, queer sexuality, and its sinister atmosphere has undeniably influenced gothic horror beyond measure despite its lack of recognition. Carmilla is a short and psychologically complex novella that is undeniably sapphic. 

“Love will have its sacrifices. No sacrifice without blood.”