Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu - The Origins of The Lesbian Vampire and Female Sexuality in The Gothic
The Blog of a Bookseller
I associate Carmilla as a summer book, partly because of my time at Sixth Form - we spent our summer term pouring over Gothic texts, reading everything from Bram Stoker to Anne Rice to Angela Carter, and being given a large selection of broader reading to pick from and read over our summer holidays before we returned for our final year, where, at the end, we would inevitably sit an exam all about The Gothic.
My English Literature class was a small collective of five students between 16 and 18 years old. It was taught by two remarkable women who approached the texts and discussions with a formidable strength that hooked us.
One of the texts on the list was Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, published in 1872. It predates Bram Stoker's Dracula by a full 25 years and is often credited as the main inspiration for what is described as the most famous vampire novel in history. I selected that as one of the few broader readings I would do before the exam. The reason I was drawn to Carmilla was the concept of a Female Vampire - I am part of the Twilight generation, so to speak, where most vampire fiction was the concept of an immortal man, turned as a teenager, falling for a mortal girl who would then try and convince him to turn her, or there would be a battle with other supernatural creatures to keep her alive. It was always an epic saga about whether she would stay human or turn into an immortal being herself - Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, True Blood, Etc.
These were the vampire stories I was raised on and ones I look back on nostalgically.
Here I was, nearly ten years after the first Twilight Saga movie, studying Dracula, one of the original vampire texts that inspired the teen vampire novels I devoured during my coming-of-age, debating Team Edward or Team Jacob, Team Damon or Team Stefan, Team Bill or Team Eric, with other romance hungry girls my age in the school cafeteria.
At the time I was studying Dracula, eighteen-years-old, I felt immense frustration at the treatment of the character of Lucy Westenra - killed in a deeply violating method in her sleep with nothing to protect her and no chance to defend herself by the three men who vied for her hand in marriage, who didn't even consider trying to find a cure for her vampirism. They decided she was ruined, tainted, immoral, and the only way of saving her was to kill her.
At its core, Carmilla is about the love of a female vampire for a young woman who reciprocates it—it is often seen as the root of the motif of the Lesbian Vampire, an archetype created to avoid the heavy censorship of lesbian characters.
The Lesbian Vampire is a double motif - not only does it serve as necessary Lesbian representation in media, but it also works as a separate literary device - an exploration of the importance of female sexuality and empowerment.
The titular character, Carmilla, is the vampire in question, but it is not she who tells the story but the young mortal woman, Laura. Carmilla is a constant presence in Laura's life—the story only begins when the two meet; we never see Laura without Carmilla and vice versa.
Considering the period in which Le Fanu wrote his novella, it is surprisingly ahead of its time. The leading characters are female and make their life choices alone, and, to be frank, the male characters, who are hellbent on destroying Carmilla, are virtually useless. They provide the female characters no help and are practically side characters. When you consider the company of Le Fanu, though, it is no surprise his novella challenges the societal expectations of women and the fear the patriarchy has surrounding female empowerment and sexuality. His great-grandmother was a novelist and playwright; his grandmother was a successful playwright in her own right, and his great-niece was also a novelist. Intentionally or not, Le Fanu was raised in a family where the women could express themselves creatively however they pleased. They became successful in doing so and became financially independent in the process.
With great pleasure, Le Fanu appears to abolish the puritanical Victorian belief that women are useful possessions for men, who need to rely on men and need their constant guardianship. As previously mentioned, the men are the only ones who have issues with Carmilla—a robust and powerful woman independent from men in every sense of the word—and are helpless and unproductive. They lack control and power in this story, and it grates them.
While it is often debated whether Camilla and Laura's relationship is love or lust, there is undoubtedly an attraction. Carmilla marks Laura as her own by feeding on her but still keeps her alive, even hinting at one point at the concept of turning Laura into her immortal companion.
You must come with me, loving me, to death, or else hate me, and still come with me.
Unlike her male counterparts, Carmilla involves herself with her victims emotionally, physically and (theoretically) sexually - providing them pleasure and satisfaction that the male vampire does not offer. In Dracula, Lucy is turned quite anti-climatically turned and promptly killed, whereas Laura's interactions are charged with an irresistible urge to devour or be devoured. It is a feeling she craves but is simultaneously frightened of - unsurprising as Laura is a symbol of all Victorian Women - she is restrained by society, judged for her emotional responses and urges, and unable to fully express her concerns and desires.
It considerably implies that a female vampire is more desirable, pleasurable and overall more enjoyable for her victims to interact with and that for a female vampire to proceed, she and her victim must enjoy each other in every sense of the word first before the victim dies or is turned.
With this attitude, Le Fanu departs from the negative association of a female parasite, as the connection between Carmilla and Laura is irresistible and mutual.
I always recommend this novella to customers when given a chance for many reasons. One is that it is considerably shorter than Dracula and far more interesting, as the plot progresses with more passion and pull than Stoker's novel. Not only that but the effects of Le Fanu's Carmilla are still felt today.
When a work is significant, you don't have to have read it to feel its impact, but Carmilla should be given the appreciation it deserves as a text about female sexuality, empowerment and LGBTQIA+ representation.
It is criminal that the text is not more widely known.
Art Work: Carmilla about to attack Bertha by D.H. Friston