Remember Dracula, the Transylvanian villain who gradually drained young women, including the hero’s fiancé, of their life force, in the book by Bram Stoker? This vampire may have been wealthy, clever and suave as ancient nobility, but there was no question as to his basic nature: he was evil personified.
In contrast, Angel, the vampire star in the TV series by the same name, is the good guy. He’s not unblemished—he killed hundreds of men, women and children in earlier years—but he is repentant; he has been cursed—or blessed—with a soul. He struggles against his basic vampire nature to drink the blood of living humans and instead subsists on bottled pig blood, warmed in the microwave. He still kills, but this time it’s the undead whom he stakes to save individual humans. He is capable of genuine love, for his miracle son, for his beloved, for his friends, making him almost human.
Despite lacking breath and a pulse, Angel is hot. Tall, brunette, and handsome, with a buff body and a brooding nature, he is the strong, silent type, a man of action rather than words. Played by David Boreanaz, Angel is a knight without the armor, literally saving damsels in distress from the deadly attentions of vampires and demons, seeking nothing, not even gratitude, in return.
But Angel is only one example of this new breed of vampire. Edward, the heart-throb of the “Twilight” movies is another. Tall, handsome and fair, he is also a strong, silent type. He, too, has integrity, drinking only animal blood and killing only to protect his beloved Bella from another vampire. Bella pleads with Edward to turn her into a vampire so they can be together forever, but he refuses, unwilling to risk her immortal soul. Unlike other vampires who literally catch fire in sunlight, those in the “Twilight” series merely glitter.
In “Daybreaker,” Ethan Hawke plays Ed, a hemotologist turned vampire by the younger brother who can’t live without him. Although Ed says he can’t remember what it was like to be human, he dedicates his life to finding a cure for the bloodlust that is destroying both humans and vampires. Made in Australia, where the Earth’s ozone layer is dangerously thin, the movie also portrays an entire society for whom the sun is death, albeit not the comparatively slow demise from metastasized melanoma but immediate immolation.
And then there are the vampire romance novels, such as the Black Dagger Brotherhood series by J.R. Ward. Here, too, the vampire males are strong, silent, types who form a bond with their beloved which can only be broken by death. Once a vampire has found his mate—which can take a century or more-- he will protect her with his life. If she dies, perhaps in childbirth or at the hands of an enemy, he is like as not to walk into the sunlight and certain death. Not only is he incapable of hurting his mate, he can’t cheat on her either. The female struggles to maintain her independence in the face of her mate’s protectiveness, but she recognizes that he’s hard-wired that way. Besides, between their chemistry and his stamina and size, the sex is out of this world.
Angel, Twilight, the Black Dagger Brotherhood books-- all can be seen as 21st century fairy tales for adult women who still long to be swept up in a protective embrace and passionate love-making by a male who is capable of committing for eternity.
And then there are the two television series "True Blood" and "Vampire Diaries"; the central plot line of both is two vampire males fighting for the attentions of the female lead. These stories explore the archetype of the sociopath-- charming one moment, sadistic the next-- and the possibility of redemption, by power of love, specifically the love of a good woman (be she human doppelganger or telepathic fey). In an era of terrorists and serial killers, these stories can also be seen as morality plays posing the question of what it means to be truly human.
But beyond the sex, love and violence, there is another layer to these narratives. Although we are manifestly at the top of this planet’s food chain, we don’t seem particularly comfortable there. We want there to be other forms of intelligent life among us, whether alien visitors from outer space, demons from another dimension, soulful vampires from this one, or angels from the great beyond. Nor is this desire necessarily a reflection of a more secular culture: look at the succubus and incubus of the Middle Ages, demons who took the blame for unlawful sexual encounters. Even the saints, who intercede with God on behalf of a particular individual, can be seen as another form of unseen but intelligent beings who keep us company. The fact that all of these beings are largely invisible means their existence cannot be disproved; it remains a leap of faith.
As science discovers more about the size of this universe and other daughter universes, perhaps our human need to not be alone, with or without our Maker, is intensifying. Perhaps we are looking for a more intelligent being who will not judge us, but who will save us from ourselves, not only as individual sinners but as a species. Perhaps these other beings can reverse environmental degradation and restore our planet to some semblance of Eden-- or at least unite us in a common cause.
