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The Vampire; The consummate lover who can see through to your most hidden desires; the dominator whose eyes can command you into submission; the ultimate in primitive carnal passion who transcends the boundaries of terror and arousal, pleasure and pain. Is it our fear of lust or our lust for fear? This look at the Eroticism of Vampires features interviews with writer Anne Rice and vampire expert David J. Skal.
Airdate: Saturday, Nov. 3, 2001 @ 11:30pm
Repeats: Sunday, Nov. 4, 2001 @ 11:30pm
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BLOOD LUST: SEX AND THE VAMPIRE
The idea of a vampire biting into my neck has always terrified me. As a child I used to be so scared of vampires that I would not be caught dead (so to speak) without a large crucifix around my neck, the bible an arms reach away, and the name of Jesus firmly placed on the tip of my tongue. And even now when I innocently play ‘vampires’ with my children, I cannot extend my Oh so Vulnerable neck for the bite. In short, I have a complete vampire phobia.
So, as you can imagine, I did not eagerly look upon my trip to New Orleans, a.k.a, VAMPIRE CENTRAL, without a sense of evil foreboding. The words ‘vampire’ and ‘sex’ remained desperately far apart - as far as I was concerned, vampires remained hideous monsters NOT seductive lovers. And as exciting as it was to be interviewing the Queen of the Undead (Anne Rice), I was worried about the fact that I was on my period, that it was a Harvest Full Moon (no less), and that I would have to visit the Cities of the Dead (the above-ground cemeteries that are all over the New Orleans). Vampires lurked in the recesses of my conscious and unconscious mind and I was terror struck.
And then when I firmly stepped on Louisiana soil, I immediately understood why vampires were attracted to this place. New Orleans is sinking into the ocean (sewers actually bubble), roads are steaming, old beautiful French colonial buildings are crumbling, poverty is rampant, and the city’s violent, torrid past sticks to you like the humidity itself. Cajun and jazz music whirl out of bar windows, solitary blues musicians moan their way into your dreams, good food and alcohol is abundant, and hedonistic excess is on display all over the place.
Sodom and Gomorrah… I could almost hear my Grandfather say…
And so it’s not for nothing that Anne Rice chooses to write her vampire chronicles here (her very own birthplace after all). The Rice’s (Anne and her painter/poet husband Stan) live in an absolutely beautiful old house in the Garden District (complete with refurbished slave quarters in the back) and - I might add - a ghost. (I quickly learned that every house in New Orleans has a ghost.) Stan Rice’s paintings gracefully cover the walls, catholic icons, large statues of saints and martyrs can be found in almost every corner of this immaculately furnished house, and one can easily tell that Rice loves dolls. At her house you can find some of the most valuable dolls in the world - not to mention the fact that Rice owns an entire convent that houses hundreds of her other dolls.
Doll collection aside, it was apparent from walking around Anne Rice’s house that she is absolutely obsessed with Christian symbolism, Catholic iconography, the interplay of good and evil - sex, blood and death - and all things decadent, transcendent, and orgasmic. And all of which, of course, are played out in her vampire chronicles.
I eagerly and nervously anticipated meeting her.
"Anne is ready to see you," I was told by her gracious Southern Belle of an assistant. And before I knew it Anne Rice was sitting in front of me… almost as if she floated into the room. I felt immediately at ease and wanted to engage in conversation. I wanted to deconstruct, analyze and understand the vampire.
Rice was easily up to the task. I found her to be extremely intelligent, thoughtful, and articulate. The only problem I had with her was that she was almost too cerebral. I felt like I was interviewing a Giant Head detached from its body. This is the woman who said, "I want to be sexual, but my sexuality is dead."
But after our interview I have to admit that I too had fallen in love with the vampire. I couldn’t help but feel that my primal fear of the vampire biting into my neck was some Calvinistic fear of sexuality itself. I wanted to surrender to the orgasmic… to the transcendent… see the vampire as a seducer, not a demon. At Anne Rice’s house, the vampire was my lover… a sexual creature/predator of the night who was one of the "tempters on the Path." The vampire was a transgressor of boundaries - a commanding, suave, decadent, sexually accomplished, victor over the forces of social convention.
The Vampire fascinates us because he is everything that conventional society cannot face and seeks to crush, and because of this exile he has tremendous power. He is a composite taboo - death, blood sexuality.
"Capable of bestowing death or granting eternal life," says David J. Skal, "the vampire can lead us up the stairs to a transcendent superhuman reality, or down, down, inexorably down to our basest instincts and animal desires… the vampire is both savior and destroyer."
BITE ME!
Michelle Melles
Segment Producer, SEXTV |
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