Zombies, Vampires, and Philosophy

by Richard Greene; K. Silem Mohammad

  As readers and viewers we are not always willing to suspend our disbelief. Some explanations are too outlandish to be acceptable, even in fiction or drama. For example, if a detective in a crime story were to randomly pick a name out of the phonebook and by doing so just happen to find the suspect in a murder, the scenario would be too far-fetched for us to swallow. Yet there’s something about blood that we are more inclined to accept in fictional or dramatic explanations. We are willing to suspend disbelief and get sucked in to our vampire stories.

  Let It Bleed

  Perhaps the reason that blood has these sorts of philosophical implications in our legends, mythologies, and religions can be found in our history of philosophy and medicine. A common, though contentious, view held by philosophers in ancient times was that the heart was the rational, controlling center of the body. Adherents of this view included Aristotle, Empedocles, and the stoic philosopher Chrysippus. Aristotle’s view was that blood was produced in this rational center of the body. Given the mystery of rationality and consciousness, it is little wonder that legends formed about the product of this rational center would involve attributing to it mysterious properties with metaphysical implications.

  It’s easy to see how such a heart-centered view would seem to entail that blood might have something to do with personal identity, free will, and even epistemology. When we try to think about what makes us who we are, one of the things that we appeal to is our identity as rational, thinking agents. We might distinguish ourselves from other rational agents because of the particular experiences and cognitions that we have had. If we believe that our personal identity in some way consists in our particular thoughts, experiences, and memories, and that these things are generated in the heart, the psychic relation between sucker and suckee is easier to understand. Blood, the product of the same organ that generates the crucial aspects of our personal identity, might somehow transmit bits of that very identity to anyone who drinks it. (We tend to imagine the heart as the source of blood, even though we know that blood is really made in the bone marrow.)

  Similar points can be made about both free will and the kind of mental connection that exists between Sookie and Bill. If a part of the identity of a person who is very powerful is running through our veins, those very bits of his identity might exert force over us. Such a powerful creature might curtail our free will. Similarly, if part of a person is in us and part of us is in them, it may not be surprising that they know what we know and vice versa.

  Even those early thinkers who did not think that the heart was the rational center of the human body thought of the presence or absence of blood as being crucial to physical and (what we would now call) mental health. Many diseases, both physical and mental, were thought to be caused by an excessive amount of blood.

  In olden times, medicine was dominated by a theory called Humorism. According to this theory, the body was filled with four substances or “humors” conducive to different temperamental dispositions: cold and dry black bile, which inspires melancholy (the poet’s and philosopher’s humor); warm and dry yellow bile, which induces choler (anger, hot-tempered-ness); cold and moist phlegm, which makes one phlegmatic (calm, unemotional), and warm and moist blood, which is responsible for sanguinity (positivity, courage, lustiness). In a healthy person, the theory held, the four humors would be in balance. Galen, a prominent physician and philosopher in the second century, who began his career as an attending physician to injured gladiators, viewed blood as the primary humor. Galen was unaware of the circulatory system and thought that illnesses and mental disorders were often caused by the stagnation of the blood. Bloodletting became common practice and took many forms, including cutting into the sick person’s flesh, using rudimentary syringes, and applying leeches to their skin. Such treatments, unsurprisingly, would frequently lead to the death of those undergoing them.

  These practices support the idea, central to many of these legends, that the right amount of healthy, non-stagnant blood is crucial to life. If one has the right amount of blood, one might look young and healthy, contributing to the idea that blood contributes to youth and beauty. Fermented blood can serve as a poison that must be excised from the body, much like the deadly blood of Medusa.

  False Blood

  Historical anatomical theory may have helped to encourage belief in the otherwise mysterious powers of blood. However, this requires that the substance these powers are being attributed to is actually blood. Here is where an aspect of the True Blood story poses a problem. The story is supposed to take place in a world in which a safe, non-violent substitute for blood has been found—a synthetic plasma called “True Blood” that somehow has the same effects on vampires as actual blood. How can the anatomical stories I have told above account for what is going on here? Perhaps they can’t.

  There are at least two ways that we could go here. The first is that there is some property of blood which is essential to its powers, but which can be found in other substances as well. It would be this property, found both in actual blood and True Blood that has the powers described above.

  On the other hand, True Blood might be a very different substance from actual blood with no essential properties in common. If this is the case, it may be that it is not the blood itself, but the performance of a particular action that has the power—the action of drinking what is either really or symbolically blood. It may be the act of drinking either blood or what one symbolically takes to be blood that actually has the effect on the vampire. This explanation is not without its problems. In the True Blood universe, vampire blood is so powerful that people can get high on it. It clearly has some power not shared by True Blood. Perhaps this is not a power that it has in virtue of being blood. Perhaps it is a power that it has in virtue of having once been inside a vampire’s body.

  Oh Yes, There Will Be Blood

  Historical accounts of anatomy may have some explanatory value in answering questions about why blood has so much power in mythologies, legends, and religions. But why do these stories persist now that we have a more scientific world view? The popularity of vampire stories, with their reliance on the mysterious powers of blood, has been growing continually for a long time, and is now greater than ever.

  Why do such stories still hit us where we live?

  First, we are just as anxious about our mortality now as at any other point in history, and blood’s connection with life and death has the same pull on us that it has always had. Perhaps we are even more scared of blood than ever, now that we are more aware of the viruses it can spread.

  Second, even though we have a more scientific world view, we still strongly associate emotions with the heart and even use expressions involving blood to convey that someone has a particular character or is in a particular emotional state. For example, we might still describe someone as being “hot blooded” or “cold blooded.” Even though we know better, the idea that the heart is the emotional center of the body lingers on.

  The fact that this connection is still deeply engrained keeps us from viewing the magical properties of blood in books and movies as too outrageous to go along with. Blood has an effect on us that almost nothing else does, and so long as this is true, we will keep coming back for more.

  21

  The Twilight of Infinite Desire

  RANDALL E. AUXIER and EILEEN TOWNSEND

  17 Magazine St.

  New Orleans, LA 70130

  November 14th, 1983

  Chère Paulie,

  It was such a treat to make your acquaintance two weeks ago at the gathering of the River Fellowship. I have returned to New Orleans without incident, and I am always relieved to find that barge inspection remains lax and that the dock workers are still as corrupt and greedy as the devil could imagine. Without plentiful mortal vice, travel for our kind would be most vexing. Fortunately, the flourishing of mortal vice seems as certain as taxes, and, as you have learned, more certain than death.

  The gathering must have been a bit muc
h for you to take in, I would think, given your recent descent into our, well, shall we say, our unenvied condition? Such affairs are uncommon, but needed every quarter-century or so to ensure that our common interests are explicit and maintained. The recent effluviance of mortal interest in our kind, in its reliable cycles, occasions these congresses, since an assessment of the new variations in their stories, and their likely long-term effects, calls for our collective w isdom.

  I think we are all agreed that the frenzy over the Michael Jackson recording is of no significance apart from its having piqued the curiosity of so many young people, who are now reading the “blessed” writings of Anne Rice. Last week I heard that the entire World Association is incensed, having concluded that one among our River Fellowship blabbed to that pesky woman. I mean, for the sake of hell, she certainly made up the details, but the outline of the story is true. I personally knew “Louis” and “Lestat” and even “Claudia.” And being a Parisian for many centuries, I was there at the founding of the Théâtre des Vampires. They are none too happy, by the bye, about having been publicly exposed, but they have gotten their just desserts as far as I am concerned. Excess may be the next thing to true satisfaction, but it has never been a part of wisdom. (They weren’t really destroyed of course, and the character of Armand is pure fiction--I would imagine him to be the invention of our betrayer, not of Mrs. Rice.)

  In any case, the few times before, when loose lips and sloppy fangs have exposed us to danger, the public ignored and soon forgot the stories--or, as in the case of the Brontës (and whoever was spilling the beans to them, bless his worthless hide), the mortal public was simply too dense to understand the instruction being given. Of course, the sisters were taken care of, but that sainted blabbermouth deserves nothing lower than heaven itself for such lapses in secrecy. The English are among the most competent vampires you’ll encounter, but their reputation for discretion has always been exaggerated. If you have secrets to keep, you’ll do better with the Swiss or the Dutch.

  As you will discover, Cher Paulie, we don’t really develop “friendships,” in the proper sense of the word, and indeed, it is a stretch even for us to become “fond” of one another, but we do depend upon each another in various unhealthy ways. Even then, there are degrees among the unclean, and so, while hope is not given to us, aspiration is, and I aspire to strike one of the unhealthiest dependencies between us that might be conceived. And after all, desire is the key to everything, I think. Would it not be in your interest as well?

  I am the oldest of our kind in the New World. It is difficult to argue with success, no? And I confess I have some difficulties, these days, keeping up with the pace of change. I believe you could be of some service to me, as I could be of some protection to you. Let us say that you are, oh, my “niece.” Negotiating the niceties of the nightworld is something you will need to know about, and I believe a discreet alliance at this time is very much in your interest, as it is in mine.

  If you incline to accepting my offer, perhaps I could persuade you to begin with (my how I hate this), Anne Rice’s novel. The plight of “Louis” early in his immortal existence is a common one--and never before exposed to public view. As you already know, the transition is very difficult for some of us. It was for me. Perhaps you have been squeamish about your hunting. Perhaps not. You will never know hope again, but you may aspire. You will have no joy, but satiety you are allowed. You will know no peace, but power is available, and there will be no patient or kind love, but desire can become, for you, its own end. “Lestat” was a fool and he still is. Don’t be like him--be smart.

  The first thing you will have to work out is your dependency on . . . oh, what was his name, there in Memphis? The one who likes posing as a campus minister. In any case, you are clearly an observant and promising companion, and we have centuries to consider. Oh, and please learn French. I despise this barbaric parlance.

  Believe me, I am always yours sincerely,

  Étienne Lavec

  222 S. Cooper

  Memphis, TN 38104

  November 23rd, 1983

  Dear Mr. Lavec,

  You’re right about this whole vampire thing being a little much, a little fast. I knew campus life would be a big change, and that it would test my values, but no one ever prepped me for the challenges of a campus afterlife! I thought that joining the Interfaith House and going to worship group were the safe way to live at school--particularly after I met “Dan,” who was so good at leading the Up All Night weekend service. I thought he was just super nice to me because I’ve always been a fun and faithful girl, so it was pretty freaking surprising when our relationship took this turn! My mom always said that older men want you for the wrong reasons, but I don’t think she could have imagined these particular “wrong reasons.”

  Now that “Dan” (he hasn’t told me his real name, and I’m not buying that it’s “Dan Christensen.” I mean, come on. He’s a vampire.) has turned me, he wants to leave the Memphis State Ministry and go somewhere else, where he wants me to pose as his fiancée and be super charming so that all the young people will think we’re really trustworthy. “Dan” isn’t a very down-to-earth vampire. He can’t just suck on a person and get it over with; he wants them to believe he’s saving their soul in the process--some wack-job interpretation of the “think of me when you drink this” Bible verse. The guy has some serious issues.

  As for me, I like doing it quick and simple. I used to do Meals on Wheels when I was human, so I’ve been sort of forcibly returning myself the favor, if you catch my drift. The old people never know what hit them.

  Mr. Lavec, there’s a lot I have to learn. For instance, it surprised me a bunch at the recent gathering that if you drink from a person with AIDS, not only do you not get the disease, but you’re not even gay afterwards! (I’d kind of thought differently, because of how all the boy vampires dress . . . it’s kind of, frilly, you know? If you want to talk about “the pace of change,” let’s look at capes. Not really something you buy at Sears these days.)

  And all this Anne Rice stuff is blowing my mind. I started Interview with the Vampire, and it’s really freaking me out. I get it that we’re, like, the top of the food chain and everything, but do we all have to be so morbid about it? I think everybody has just had about a thousand years to think about themselves, and not enough fresh air. I, for one, would rather think of myself like a bear or a lion or a really heavy falling thing--a semi-natural cause of death, not some bla-bla-bla-dark-angel madness.

  The one thing that really bugs me so far is that I used to be such a people person, you know? And now I can’t even go to a party without feeling like the girl with bad hair and glasses-except, instead of glasses, I have fangs and the desire to kill. Gives “sucking face” a whole different ring.

  Also, I know that God said “don’t kill,” but then he made Abraham almost kill Isaac as if that was all okay, so I guess turning me into a pasty-faced vamp is the clearest celestial command I’ve ever gotten to sort of step outside the moral lines. Maybe it’s like a heavenly population control thing?

  I’d really be into being your vampire niece. Mostly because I am going to have to get away from “Dan Christensen.” I can’t pretend to be someone’s fiancée--I’m only nineteen! Plus, he is such a creep-job. I think you could teach me a few things. So, I have some questions: How did you get to be a vampire so long ago? Who turned you? Also, this might be kind of personal, but who were you before you got turned? I need some major details. Because, honestly, you’re not the sort of stranger I’d get into a car with if I weren’t an immortal predator.

  About the French: American Sign Language was my language elective at Memphis State, but, like, I haven’t exactly been researching night classes. I’ll see what I can do about picking up some French. Hey, maybe if more of y’all had been vampires back in the day, you wouldn’t have lost all those times to the “blabbermouth” British! Haha, no offense.

  Yours Truly,

  Paulie Dori
Williams

  17 Magazine Street

  New Orleans, LA 70130

  January 16th, 1984

  Chère Paulie,

  Please forgive my delayed response. Matters of our collective concern have been dominating my attentions. I cannot say a great deal about these problems now, but it should suffice that your observations about AIDS are more than incidental to our present troubles. The mortals are likely to remain perplexed about the origins of the pathogen, but perhaps that is because they have not yet imagined that we have our own sciences, on the other side of the coil, aimed at solving our problems. Sometimes things develop in directions unforeseen, but one must admit that hunting is better now than it has been since the last Yellow Fever epidemic (which you won’t remember, but that was when I relocated to this lovely and decadent city--my, how decades seem like weeks to me at this point; I can no longer quite understand the idea of “nineteen years”).