I love True Blood. Just plain love it. I think that makes me a “Trubie”. I’ve always been fascinated by vampires. Well I say always, but in the name of accuracy let’s say from the age of 12 or thereabouts. When I first saw Interview With A Vampire, I was hooked. I scoured bookshops for Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles and am pleased to say that I own all of them. And do they bear marks of being read over and over again! My copy of The Vampire Lestat, which I picked up somewhere in Camden, looks much worn and I’m afraid it will fall apart the next time I go to read it.
I tried to read the Twilight books. I really tried, but I found them to be too childish for me. I understand, they’re this generations Vampire Chronicles. I’m too old. So now I would love to extend a heartfelt thank you to Charlaine Harris for penning the Sookie Stackhouse novels. And to HBO for making it into a fantastic TV series.
And I’m not the only one. But what is it about vampires and other sinister mythical creatures we find so fascinating? Do we have a secret desire to be drained to death? To be bitten? To be savagely attacked, fed upon and left for dead? Or is it indeed the idea that out there somewhere are people, creatures who have cracked the secret to eternal youth and immortality?
Imagine being an improved version of yourself. With better senses, greater speed, and some handy superpowers thrown in for good measure. Obviously there is a price to pay. That price being unable to see sunlight and having to feast on the blood of people. I for one was always more of a night person anyway. Seriously speaking, there is an allegory there about all of us having a dark, savage side and all that jazz but why thread onto a path so well travelled?
To be honest, I think the main attraction here is the fact that those vamps are really quite sexy. It’s not just the fact that they’re young for all eternity, although that is a bonus. Besides, none of these novels, films or TV series seem to have an ugly vampire in them. If you had all of time to do as you pleased, I’d imagine there’d be a fair amount of sex involved.
I know Anne Rice’s books were more sensual than they were sexual, and Charlaine Harris truly pushes the boat out in her work, but the premise is there nonetheless. Sex is great when you’re immortal. Or with someone who’s immortal. And ladies (and some gentlemen); would you be able to kick this one out of bed?
For those interested, you should check out Mick Farren’s The Victor Renquist Quartet for some bedtime reading, I found them quite good.