I was super into vampires in junior high. This was not Twilight (which was a Vampire Revival for me as a young adult) but Anne Rice. I had a terrible crush on Lestat.
In addition to wanting to make-out with Lestat and other such loin frothing, there was also the hope that Lestat Incarnate would turn me into a vampire and I could live FOREVER. There was just so much that I wanted to do, so many lives I wanted to have, places I wanted to explore. I wanted to experience hundreds of years of the world, see what became of it, what new inventions and people came about, who were we all wearing in 2347?! Plus, perhaps with the certainty of endless years stretching out in front of me, my mistakes wouldn’t hurt so badly. (Note: I was a melodramatic 13-year-old, these were T-ball level mistakes.)
And lastly, I was just really afraid of death. Wishing super hard for immortality was a pit stop in between a waning faith in the existence of heaven and a fervent hope for the existence of reincarnation. The idea that I just.... wouldn’t exist anymore was super scary you guys!
So, it turns out a bunch of millionaires and billionaires are into vampires too. Not content with waiting for some bloodthirsty immortal to fall in love with them and change them into a vampire like a regular person, these entitled souls are spending a bunch of their money to “solve” mortality and using Science to become, ostensibly, vampires.
While their love of vampires may be true, much like how a bunch of tech companies are naming themselves after elements from Tolkien stories in complete ignorance (or defiance) of the anti-technology message of the man’s entire oeuvre, these vampire-loving rich people are disregarding the central vibe of vampire literature. Vampires are depressed.
Louis de Pointe du Lac has spent the last several hundred years being melancholy and feeling super bad about killing people. Stoker’s OG Dracula is a nasty, revenge-driven creature that is hunted down like a rabid beast. Coppola’s Dracula has been sitting in his moldy castle like some undead Miss Havisham, mourning his dead beloved since the Middle Ages until (the unavailable) Mina comes along. Nando, Laszlo, and Nadja have been stuck annoying each other for the better part of 1000 years and now live on Staten Island. You might make a case for my beloved Lestat, he seems to be having fun boinking ancient Egyptian queens, getting body snatched and trying pasta (verdict: gross), and other misadventures. But methinks the gentleman doth protest too much. Does Lestat, do any of these unpeople, seem really, truly happy to you?!
No!
As an aside, don’t get me started on how stagnant society would be if everyone lived forever! That was the central problem in Twilight, the Volturi had been in power for 3,000 years and were so old-fashioned. Ya’ll think Boomers are out of touch, just wait until those Boomers have been alive for 500 years and get back to me.
I’m flirting with being able to accept that at a certain point I just... won’t exist anymore. While I’m not actually comfortable with the idea of dying (obviously, I’m a mess), I’m certainly uncomfortable with the idea of immortality. Which has to be something.
I’d like to thank The Good Place. There was a beautiful message in it, that the only reason life means anything at all is because it ends. And yes, we’re sad about it, as humans we’re a little sad about it all the time, but it's ok.
The only reason that anything in this world has any value is because there also exists a state in which you don’t have it. Sunny days are great and all, but there are days in L.A. when you pray for a cloud, for anything to relieve the relentless monotony of “perfect” days.
Vampires are depressed. And not just because they’re goths. Because they are immortal. Because their lives have lost all meaning without death giving it an end. Stories make no sense if they don’t have an ending, it’s just someone rambling and we’ve all been stuck with that person at a cocktail party.
I want to die! We all need to die!
Er, eventually, that is.
So, it turns out a bunch of millionaires and billionaires are into vampires too. Not content with waiting for some bloodthirsty immortal to fall in love with them and change them into a vampire like a regular person, these entitled souls are spending a bunch of their money to “solve” mortality and using Science to become, ostensibly, vampires.
While their love of vampires may be true, much like how a bunch of tech companies are naming themselves after elements from Tolkien stories in complete ignorance (or defiance) of the anti-technology message of the man’s entire oeuvre, these vampire-loving rich people are disregarding the central vibe of vampire literature. Vampires are depressed.
Louis de Pointe du Lac has spent the last several hundred years being melancholy and feeling super bad about killing people. Stoker’s OG Dracula is a nasty, revenge-driven creature that is hunted down like a rabid beast. Coppola’s Dracula has been sitting in his moldy castle like some undead Miss Havisham, mourning his dead beloved since the Middle Ages until (the unavailable) Mina comes along. Nando, Laszlo, and Nadja have been stuck annoying each other for the better part of 1000 years and now live on Staten Island. You might make a case for my beloved Lestat, he seems to be having fun boinking ancient Egyptian queens, getting body snatched and trying pasta (verdict: gross), and other misadventures. But methinks the gentleman doth protest too much. Does Lestat, do any of these unpeople, seem really, truly happy to you?!
No!
As an aside, don’t get me started on how stagnant society would be if everyone lived forever! That was the central problem in Twilight, the Volturi had been in power for 3,000 years and were so old-fashioned. Ya’ll think Boomers are out of touch, just wait until those Boomers have been alive for 500 years and get back to me.
I’m flirting with being able to accept that at a certain point I just... won’t exist anymore. While I’m not actually comfortable with the idea of dying (obviously, I’m a mess), I’m certainly uncomfortable with the idea of immortality. Which has to be something.
I’d like to thank The Good Place. There was a beautiful message in it, that the only reason life means anything at all is because it ends. And yes, we’re sad about it, as humans we’re a little sad about it all the time, but it's ok.
The only reason that anything in this world has any value is because there also exists a state in which you don’t have it. Sunny days are great and all, but there are days in L.A. when you pray for a cloud, for anything to relieve the relentless monotony of “perfect” days.
Vampires are depressed. And not just because they’re goths. Because they are immortal. Because their lives have lost all meaning without death giving it an end. Stories make no sense if they don’t have an ending, it’s just someone rambling and we’ve all been stuck with that person at a cocktail party.
I want to die! We all need to die!
Er, eventually, that is.
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