So one source of satisfaction to be drawn from typical Halloween horrors is a kind of control or mastery that some can derive from experiencing fear close up. This is not to say that horror fictions inoculate us against fear, but rather that they can alleviate the meta-fear of fear by permitting us to explore the first-order level of fear itself. Extrapolating, then, from the satisfaction that can be found in typical Halloween entertainments to the holiday itself, I speculate that the festival itself, with its convergent horrific iconography of the living dead, is a cultural platform that invites experimentation with the negative emotions that surround death and deterioration for the purpose of palliating the fear of fear.
That the holiday is primarily an affair for the young and for adolescents may be offered as corollary support for this hypothesis, since they are probably especially prone to fear of the emotions. Halloween is a social occasion that affords the opportunity to educate youth in the process of emotional management. It is a folk remedy for the fear of fear whose medium is primarily the iconography of the Undead. Nor is it without efficacy for us oldsters who feel death approaching as our bodies ourselves show signs of decay.
Another piece of corollary, albeit informal, evidence for my hypothesis has to do with a feature of Halloween to which many of you may feel I have not yet paid sufficient attention. As mentioned earlier, much Halloween iconography, including that of the Undead, is offered in a parodic spirit. Scream is just as likely to be shown on Halloween night as is The Curse of Frankenstein. Halloween parades of the Undead and campy imitations of Bela Lugosi belong to the holiday as much as the imagery designed to make onlookers cringe.152 This is probably especially true of adult masquerade parties.
Halloween levity may, at first blush, appear to contradict my hypothesis about the function of the holiday to mitigate the meta-fear of fear by means of inducing fear. However, as is well known, humor is a widely acknowledged device that is used by people in professions, like medicine, mental health, the military, and law enforcement, which professions bring them into close contact with death, injury, decay, and malevolent behavior. These professionals use laughter—what the philosopher Henri Bergson called the anaesthesis of the heart—in order to control their emotional reactions in such a way that they can get on with their work. That is, laughter too is a well known means of emotional control. That laughter and horror exist side by side on Halloween may be the result of their sharing the same basic function for revelers: both contribute to enhance their feelings of self-control with respect to the emotions, most notably fear and disgust.
The conjecture that Halloween iconography of the Undead—both media-made and handmade—imparts satisfaction and pleasure due to the alleviation of our fear of fear and, thereby, to emotional control, is in competition with better-known explanations like psychoanalysis. But the fear-of-fear hypothesis is not only simpler than its psychoanalytic rival. Its leading assumption—that many of us, at least at certain times in our lives, are prone to the fear of fear—is readily confirmed introspectively, whereas much of the psychoanalytic account relies upon the existence of operations and entities that defy direct confirmation. To its dialectical advantage, then, the fear-of-fear hypothesis of the pleasure taken in the Halloween iconography of the Undead is more economical both with respect to the number and complexity of the concepts and operations it presupposes as well as being simpler in terms of the kinds of observations that contribute to its confirmation.
Fear itself may not be the only thing that frightens us on Halloween; but it is one of them.153
19
“Powerful, Beautiful, and Without Regret”: Femininity, Masculinity, and the Vampire Aesthetic
JOAN GRASSBAUGH FORRY
“They have forgotten the first lesson. We must be powerful, beautiful, and without regret.” When Armand speaks these words to fellow vampire Louis in the 1994 film Interview with the Vampire, he is not just talking aimlessly. Rather, he is reciting a truism about how vampires are portrayed.
Perhaps the most familiar form of the Undead, vampires have appeared in many different guises over the past century. From the umpteenth re-telling of the haunting story of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, to the comedic children’s book Bunnicula, the story of a vampiric pet rabbit that raids the refrigerator at night and sucks the “blood” from the family’s vegetables, all vampire stories play on themes of power, beauty, and moral character.
Vampires are powerful not only because they inspire fear and terror in the living, but also because they escape from the troublesome human burdens of aging and sickness. Vampires are the ultimate affirmation of individualism, escaping from human moral obligation, caring only for themselves, and free from regret or remorse for their actions. But how and why must vampires be beautiful? There’s no doubt that they are; even Bunnicula has sleek fur and the most deep haunting eyes one can imagine in a cute little bunny. But just how does beauty work in the conventions of vampire representation? Are conventional beliefs about beauty and appearance operating in the portrayal of vampires, or do these conventional beliefs get shoved out in the sunlight to get dusted?
Conventional standards of bodily beauty, femininity, and masculinity are at work in vampire films and television; however, these standards often shapeshift to challenge cultural norms surrounding gender and sexuality. The female vampire is terrifying because she is a killing machine housed in an ultra-feminine body. For example, Drusilla, from the television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, has long flowing hair and only wears dresses, but she is insane, hell-bent on wreaking havoc on the mortal world, and often bites small children and puppies. Strangely, the male vampire is often feminized while simultaneously represented as masculine. Think of Dracula’s stylized coif in Francis Ford Coppola’s 1992 film Bram Stoker’s Dracula or the sensual and refined Dracula played by Frank Langella in 1979. The consequences for these transgressions differ according to gender. Female vampires are usually punished and rendered powerless, either through ridicule or death, while male vampires flourish, or languish, in elegance and style. There are many variations on the visual portrayal of the vampire, and though there are certainly counter-examples to my findings, there are common themes in the representation of the vampire.
Beauty 101
Aesthetics is a branch of philosophy concerned with the observation and interpretation of art. Philosophers of art deal with questions of whether things are indeed art or not, the values of art, and properties of art such as beauty. Generally, beauty is associated with goodness because observation of a beautiful artwork, or object in nature, causes some kind of pleasurable experience. Philosophers of art have long debated the definition of beauty and how it can be detected and evaluated in artworks. For example, Pythagoras (582-496 B.C.E.) and other Pre-Socratic philosophers argue that beauty could be assessed according to a “golden ratio,” a mathematical value indicating a degree of balance and symmetry. Plato (427-347 B.C.E.) argues that beauty is a metaphysical property that is always in harmony with goodness, fairness, and the divine. Aristotle (384-322 B.C.E.) separates goodness from beauty, claiming that goodness pertains only to conduct, while beauty pertains to objects. Aristotle instead claims that the forms of beauty are order, symmetry, and definiteness. Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) argues that judgments about beauty are subjective in the sense that individuals make judgments about beauty, but these judgments are objective in the sense that others ought to agree on which things are beautiful. The pleasure experienced in observing a beautiful object is, for Kant, present in the act of observation or judgment and in nothing else.
But beauty gets complicated when we talk about human bodies and representations of human bodies. Is beauty really an intrinsic and natural property, or is it an appearance that can be achieved through some set of practices? Feminists and social theorists criticize the naturalness of the human body, arguing that human bodies are not wholly natural, but are largely constructed through practice. The late philosopher Michel Foucault traces the body’s transition fr
om a natural entity to one that can be molded and shaped, using the figure of the pre-modern soldier to discuss the construction of the body through disciplinary practice. The soldier of the seventeenth century, Foucault argues, was “natural”: he was “born” a soldier and possessed physical “gifts” and strength of character that could not be acquired. However, a change took place by the end of the eighteenth century: “the soldier has become something that can be made; out of a formless clay, an inapt body, the machine required can be constructed.”154 Anyone (any man, that is) could now be a soldier. The body of an ordinary man would be sculpted into the body of a solider through rigorous physical training; this process is discipline.
The important question for Foucault is how these ideas of naturalness and disciplinary practice function. Vampires get around the disciplinary process involved in cultivating physical strength because they are strong and powerful without practice. Following Foucault, we can question how the vampire goes against ideas of both naturalness and disciplinary practice, how vampire stories function to warn, horrify, and excite us, and why the vampire is so appealing.
Feminist philosophers, such as Susan Bordo and Sandra Lee Bartky, have used Foucault’s concept of discipline to discuss how women’s bodies are regulated through beauty practices. Beauty is a gender-specific social construct that shifts according to culture and historical period. Women’s bodies aren’t naturally beautiful; rather, women can make their bodies into beautiful bodies by performing a set of practices deemed appropriate to one’s culture and historical moment. Sandra Bartky examines three categories of disciplinary beauty practices that produce contemporary conventional femininity: (1) practices that produce a body of a certain size or shape; (2) practices that produce certain movements or gestures; and (3) practices directed toward displaying the body as an ornamented surface.155 Practices that produce a body of a certain size or shape include dieting and exercise. Bodily movements and gestures are restricted through feminine clothing such as skirts and high-heeled shoes. Producing an ornamented surface involves hair removal, intensive hair and skin care, cosmetic application and maintenance, and paying attention to the details of one’s clothing. All of these disciplinary practices require generous amounts of time and money.
The ideal feminine body that is the result of all this is youthful, thin with ample breasts, and walks with smooth movements, preferably with a moderate swivel of the hips. She possesses long styled hair, flawless skin, eyes and lips appropriately accentuated by makeup, and clothes and accessories that match and enhance her body’s shape. Departures from this ideal are seen as unfeminine, or even masculine. Bartky claims that these beauty practices are not applicable to men in the manner and degree that they are to women. However, Susan Bordo analyzes the recent rise in male beauty culture and points out that beauty practices are increasingly marketed toward men, altering representations of men and masculinity in popular culture.156
Though women must perform these practices in order to appear beautiful, beauty is still portrayed as “natural.” For example, when Kendra the vampire slayer arrives in Sunnydale, California, emerging from the cargo pit of an airplane in Season Two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, her eyeliner and lipstick are perfect, and her provocative clothing is unwrinkled, despite her long trip from some unknown faraway place.
“I’m Too Sexy for My Mirror”
But how do these concepts of beauty, femininity, and masculinity apply to vampires? Conventional ideals of beauty, femininity, and masculinity are both reinforced and resisted in the conventions of vampire representation, or what I call the “vampire aesthetic.” First, vampires are exempt from the majority of beauty practices. In escaping from pesky mortal aging, vampires are always youthful, and the only effort they need to make to keep their youthful appearance is to feed regularly on the blood of the living.
Because most vampires have no reflection, they cannot be too concerned with their appearances. Because vampire bodies stay youthful and relatively unchanged throughout their lease on immortality, vampires don’t need to worry about weight or exercise. We rarely see a fat vampire, or a vampire who feels compelled to go to the gym. Their beauty is effortless. But in this effortlessness, conventional ideas about femininity and masculinity are emphasized. One of the tenets of both feminine and masculine beauty is that it must appear natural and not contrived. No matter how much effort went into shaping one’s body, one must always pretend that this body comes naturally.
Second, vampire movements are elegant and smooth because of their supernatural powers. Vampires can shapeshift into other creatures, such as bats or wolves. They can move without obeying the laws of gravity, floating without touching the ground. Their movements are stylish and elegant; when they move swiftly, they move with precision, not with lumbering, erratic motions, unless they are stupid and easy fodder for a vampire slayer. For the female vampire, moving smoothly and suggestively is in line with conventional femininity. But the male vampire’s graceful movements, intended to aid him in seducing his victim, blur the presumed line between masculine and feminine; men are not supposed to walk gracefully and lightly.
Third, male and female vampires are both heavily sexualized. A key part of vampire stories is the seduction of the victim. William Patrick Day writes, “Vampire stories are also tales of sexual sensationalism, the bite that is the kiss, pain that is pleasure, death that is love.”157 A thinly-veiled sexual voracity, the vampire’s sexuality is synonymous with the thirst for blood. Because the bite functions as a metaphor for sex, the vampire is not only a predator, but also a sexual predator. The promise of a vampire’s sexuality lies in the vampire’s method, seducing victims so that they become willing participants. The bite is often represented as highly pleasurable for both the vampire and the victim. Often, during the bite, both vampire and victim appear as if they are in the throes of orgasm.
The vampire’s sexuality works with constructed norms of gender and sexuality. For the male vampire, seduction is not a transgression according to constructed masculinity, which takes sexual initiation and aggression to be the norm. Also, vampire stories challenge heterosexuality and monogamy. The male vampire often keeps a harem of female victims that he has turned into vampires. Jonathan Harker’s encounter with the three sisters in Dracula is an example. Most vampire stories in which the main vampire character is male are heterosexual; the male vampire seduces and drinks the blood of female victims. In Interview with the Vampire we see homosexual overtones among male vampires. Louis and Lestat are companions for some time until they turn Claudia, a girl child, into a vampire and form a family of sorts. Louis and Claudia eventually leave Lestat, but Louis is soon compelled (seduced?) by Armand, another male vampire, and he arranges to leave Claudia for Armand.
Lesbian vampire portrayals are more common and hence, more widely accepted. The 1983 film The Hunger and film adaptations of the novella Carmilla portray lesbian vampires as the main characters. In addition, a distinct subgenre of lesbian vampire pornography arose in the 1970’s and continued into the 1990’s, with titles like Barely Legal Lesbian Vampires, and Dracula’s Dirty Daughters. The female vampire’s sexual appetite can be interpreted in two ways. First, for the lesbian vampire, her appetite is another invocation of a stereotype because lesbians are popularly represented as sexually aggressive, and thus deviant. But, second, the female vampire’s aggressive sexuality is a transgression because she is female. Conventionally, women’s sexual desire is supposed to be passive.
The Female Vampire as Femme Fatale
Usually presented as accessories to the male vampire main character, few female vampires take center stage in vampire films and television. But those female vampires that we do see generally conform to ideals of femininity. Consider Queen Akasha from the 2001 film Queen of the Damned, the second film adaptation of Anne Rice’s novels in the series The Vampire Chronicles. Queen Akasha, played by the late pop singer Aaliyah, is scantily clad throughout the film, despite the moderately cool climate (other c
haracters wear heavy coats). Her hair is long, with elaborate knots piled on top of her head. Her belly is exposed to highlight her sexuality. When she moves, she seems to slither, and with one graceful arm gesture, she can burn other vampires to ashes. There is only one scene in the film that shows Akasha’s carnage involving any physical contact. This lack of contact, and reliance on some supernatural power, is a feminine way of killing because it is passive. This reliance on supernatural powers and not on physical contact is a common theme in portraying female vampires.
Drusilla is similarly feminine. The vampires in Buffy are either animalistic automatons or sophisticated and developed characters. Drusilla falls into the latter category; she was a recurring character through Season Two of Buffy and she made two guest appearances in Seasons Three and Five. Drusilla and her peroxide-headed companion, Spike, arrive in Sunnydale ready to wreak havoc and kill Buffy. Drusilla always wears long dresses or nightgowns, never pants. Her hair is long and is always styled and her nails are perfectly manicured. Drusilla is cruel and insane to boot, presumably from being tortured prior to becoming a vampire.
Drusilla is often portrayed as if she were a child, and she is treated like a child as well. For example, in one scene from Season Two, she talks to a dead bird in a cage. She asks Spike why it won’t sing to her anymore and he replies, in a father-like tone, that it’s dead and that she kills every pet that’s given to her. She whimpers and Spike comforts her. Drusilla conducts tea parties with blindfolded dolls and rips apart the ones that anger her. Her irrational and emotional tendencies, conventionally associated with the feminine, make her threatening because there is no logic to her wrath. But, because she is portrayed as childlike, her threat is neutralized. However, because these childlike qualities are embodied within an insane creature that ultimately wants to destroy the world, her character is even more uncanny and threatening. In the Season Two finale, Drusilla manages to kill Kendra, the other vampire slayer. Drusilla kills Kendra in a feminine way: like all vampires on the show, she possesses incredible physical strength and well-honed fighting skills, but she kills Kendra by first hypnotizing her, and then slitting her throat with her long, polished fingernail.
Zombies, Vampires, and Philosophy Page 26
