Carmilla - Vampire Novel Review
I will admit, this is not the first time that I have read Carmilla. The first time was right after I had finished Twilight and an erudite school librarian slipped this across the desk to me like some kind of secret service assignment, smiling slyly as she did so. Bemused, I took ownership, briefly, of one of the shortest, sweetest and most disturbing novels I had read until that point. Carmilla was also one of the novels that made me entranced with the Gothic, but that’s a story for another time.
As far as traditional Gothic novels are concerned, especially those from the 19th Century rebellion against Enlightenment, Carmilla has it all. The brooding atmosphere, the isolated setting, the heroine who seems just a little too real. But something that sets this novel apart is the subtle, or not-so-subtle depending on how you read it, allusions to a homoerotic relationship between Laura and Carmilla. It is this relationship that seems to have informed Dracula, Nosferatu and many other vampire novels. This inclusion sets the tone for vampires entrancing their victims and leaving them in an almost Stockholm-Syndrome-esque state.
Carmilla is narrated by a young woman called Laura, who leads a solitary life in the Austrian forest with her father. Her life is isolated and dreary until a mystery guest arrives to stay with them after an unfortunate carriage accident outside. Her name is Carmilla. Carmilla and Laura struck up an unnaturally close bond, with both dremaing about one another and yet, also experiencing night terrors and Laura becoming increasingly weak. From here the stroy takes a rather ambitiously folkloric turn.
Le Fanu, the author, was well-known for his ghost stories, and those elements are clear in Carmilla. The story is not exactly tense, but brooding. There are subtle hints placed all throughout the text, enabled by the past tense narrative and first person narrator, that Carmilla is not as sweet as she seems. This creates a delicious breathlessness throughout, enhanced by the break-neck speed at which it moves.
Remarkably, despite the novels brevity, Le Fanu leaves room for entrancing setting description and a peep through the keyhole at Laura and her father’s past. This, of course, is essential to the climatic end of the novel, but in the moment it feels like a too-warm hug, enveloping and claustrophobic.
In truth, I had little to no complaints about this novel, only that it is too short. I am yet to watch the film version, perhaps that will be my next viewing, but I can only imagine it will be excellent. For the sake, however, of neutrality, I shall mention one thing. There are times when it feels that the nature of Carmilla is being made a little too obvious, and there are times when I, as a reader, wondered how on earth other characters were not realising that she was not all she seemed. Morevoer, the interlude in the middle of the novel with the doctor, whilst I undertsnad it served a story purpose, seemeda tad elongated, especailly as it had little to no bearing upon the ending of the novel.
Other than that, I must say that this novel is an excellent read. It is almost like a pocket guide to vampirism and Gothic literature. I would rate it solidly 9 / 10, my only main complaint being that it is far too short!