When I went to see Nosferatu, I had not seen the 1922 original. Nor had I read Stoker's novel. But in watching the movie I was struck by its themes of enchantment and disenchantment. The story is set in a world coming of age. Science, medicine, and technology are advancing. And yet, emerging from the shadows of the Old World there appears a spiritual terror. Something dark and menacing still haunts the modern world.
Stoker published his novel in 1897. And as the author of Hunting Magic Eels, I'm interested in our culture's drift from enchantment to disenchantment. So the liminality of Nosferatu caught my attention. And given that Nosferatu basically borrowed Stoker's novel, I decided to read Dracula for the first time.
Here's what shocked me. Bram Stoker's Dracula is a very Christian novel. I would even say that Dracula is one of the greatest Christian novels of all time. Christianity suffuses the book. Faith is the air the novel breaths. Fans of the novel, of course, are aware of this, but the pious devoutness of the story caught me by surprise. However, if you've not read the novel, here's a selective survey of its Christian content and themes. I've tried to avoid spoilers.
First off, the main characters are Christian. The Harker's, the couple at the center of the drama, are Protestant. Professor Abraham Van Helsing is a devout Catholic. The group trying to defeat Dracula pray together and explicitly view their battle against Dracula as a spiritual conflict. As Van Helsing says at one point (by the way, Van Helsing is Dutch so his English is broken), "Thus are we ministers of God's own wish. That the world, and men for whom His Son die, will not be given over to monsters, whose very existence would defame Him. He have allowed us to redeem one soul already, and we go out as the old knights of the Cross to redeem more. Like them we shall travel towards the sunrise. And like them, if we fall, we fall in good cause." Before the climatic encounter with Dracula, the group prays with Van Helsing: "We men all knelt down, Mina lying prostrate; and Van Helsing lifted his hands and said:—‘O God, give me light in the darkness!’”
Second, the reality of heaven plays a key role in the drama of the story. The status of Lucy Westenra’s soul is at risk if the group cannot free her from the curse. As Val Helsing explains, "When this now Un-Dead be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor lady whom we love shall again be free." When Lucy's soul is freed, Van Helsing declares, "For she is not a grinning devil now, not any more a foul Thing for all eternity. No longer she is the devil's Un-Dead. She is God's true dead, whose soul is with Him!"
Third, and this is something I think almost everyone knows, the weapons used against Dracula are spiritual weapons: Holy water, rosaries, crucifixes and, most importantly, the Consecrated Host. This last bit surprised me. In vampire movies you often see crucifixes held aloft. But the Host, by far, is Van Helsing's weapon of choice. The Host is used to repulse a vampire from attacking. The Host is used to despoil tombs and coffins so they cannot be used by vampires. The Host is used to determine if someone has been tainted by Dracula's blood. And crumbled bits of the Host are used to create protective circles that Dracula cannot enter. Even more than crucifixes and holy water, the Host is the most powerful weapon against evil in the novel.
The power of the Host in Dracula has been of scholarly interest and debate. Bram Stoker's religious views were opaque. We do know he was raised Protestant in the Church of Ireland. Given the Protestant and Catholic debates swirling around the doctrine of the Real Presence during his lifetime, some have wondered if Stoker had a sacramental agenda in writing Dracula. Or even a Catholic agenda. For example, in the novel we see the Protestant protagonists coming to accept and embrace Catholic objects, like the crucifix. Very early in the story, before Jonathan Harker goes to Dracula's castle, a peasant woman, fearing for his safety, gives him a crucifix. Later on, upon finding himself trapped in the castle, Jonathan finds comfort in the crucifix. This comfort causes Jonathan to question his Protestant misgivings about the object:
It [the crucifix] is an odd thing which I have been taught to regard with disfavor and as idolatrous should in a time of loneliness and trouble be of help. Is it that there is something in the essence of the thing itself [the crucifix], or that it is a medium, a tangible help, in conveying memories of sympathy and comfort? Some time, if it may be, I must examine this matter and try to make up my mind about it.
Beyond Protestant misgivings, Jonathan is standing here, early in the novel, in that liminal space between the old, traditional faith and scientific modernity, poised between enchantment and disenchantment. He wonders if the crucifix possesses spiritual potency--"something in the essence of the thing itself"--or if it's just a comforting memory. As the story progresses, Jonathan's doubt will be dispelled. The crucifix, along with other holy and consecrated objects, do possess spiritual power. Sacramentally speaking, there is, truly and powerfully, "something in the essence of the thing itself." And the Host, as the Real Presence of Christ, is the primary example of this sacramentalism throughout the story.
All that to say, given this sacramentalism in Dracula, scholars debate if Stoker had a theological agenda in mind in writing the novel. Regardless, a sacramental imagination suffuses the book. Which, as I mentioned, surprised me. I picked up what I thought was a horror story and found myself contemplating the Real Presence.
As I said, Bram Stoker's Dracula ranks as one of the greatest Christian novels.
