Dante Remy
The eternal vampire story: Will it be a recast of Bram Stoker’s classic? A literary reference to folkloric traditions? Perhaps something else? Well, if you have read my other articles, you will know it is going to be something else. And, in fact, it is the theme of duality. Let us begin with an evocative narrative about the vampire, one of duality, of pain, and of pleasure.
Feast Upon The Light (an excerpt) by Clacks Writer
You know our kind. Beings of blood and death, as we are. Predators, feeding upon the weak, the vulnerable…and the chaste. Ageless and timeless. The ancient ones.
We are doomed, or blessed – depending on your view – to live out the centuries eternal. I suppose we do seem an alluring species. We possess many things which make us the envy of mortals. Not least amongst them – the gift of time. Time to bear witness to the waxing and waning of the living realm. The seasons’ soft undulations of bloom and decay. The planet’s revolutions of darkness… and light.
We watch these events, mostly with spiritless indifference, as a cat might observe the slow death of its prey. But sometimes… sometimes one can discover something new – something which adds a fresh, luminous spark to the deathless procession of existence. Let me tell you of it.
Ah, the duality of vampirism. It really comes through in this initial introduction to today’s reading: The narrative Feast Upon the Light by Clacks Writer. I encourage you to check out more of her writing on Reddit (u/clackswriter) and on Twitter (@ClacksWriter).
The theme of duality is ever present in the vampire story and it comes through in this reading. Let us take a look at it in the opening. We are immediately struck by the duality of being doomed or blessed, and that is a bit of the vampire dilemma. It’s something that’s so attractive. The eternity, the eternity of life. It’s an attractive thing, certainly to mortals, but it’s a struggle for vampires and we know throughout the vampire story, many of the vampire stories, they are doomed. They do meet defeat, whether it’s a stake through the heart or sunlight itself. This vampire does admit that they do seem alluring and that they do possess many of the things which make us the envy of mortals.
But then there’s a shift, there is mortality, but how is it described? The gift of time. What does a vampire do with all of this time? Well, certainly in one aspect, it’s out of their control. To quote the reading “time to bear witness to the waxing and waning of the living realm.” Here again, time to witness the duality, the waxing and the waning. It seems as though this vampire’s really expanded horizons here. To continue, “the seasons, soft undulations of bloom and decay.” Again more dualism of bloom and decay, soft undulations, a playful way to think about it, a beautiful way to think about it, not harsh, not violent, but an interplay between the seasons. And then, finally, “the planets, revolutions of darkness and light.” Oh, now, here is the duality for this particular vampire story. The planets, revolutions of darkness and light turning on its axis, that nocturnal life, the waxing and the waning, evening after evening, year after year, century after century, and a hesitation, the light again standing in duality.
This seems to be a vampire who craves more than the nocturnal life. Who craves more than simply taking life. Who seems to be growing in perspective. Who is looking for more. Finally, we end with a discovery: something new. What is this eternal vampire seeking? “A fresh, luminous spark to the deathless procession of existence.” The deathless procession of existence? I exist, yet I am dead. I look for something that’s fresh, not old, not dead, not decaying, something of light, a spark, something that will take on this procession of existence and death.
“Let me tell you of it.” Well, this vampire has a story to tell and we will get to it soon. But first let’s take a step back and explore this idea of dualism. Let’s explore the ideas of vampirism through the years and find what might be relevant to this story.
Considered to be one of the first literary references to the vampire, the poem Der Vampir by Heinrich August Ossenfelder was published in 1748. Now, the poem follows hundreds, if not millennia, of folklore. It is highly erotic, written in German, now translated into English, and it tells the story of a scorned lover who is threatening to seduce an innocent love into his world of darkness. He proposes that this world is superior to the teachings, the life, the religion of the woman’s mother.
Der Vampir, 1748 by Heinrich August Ossenfelder
My dear young maiden clingeth Unbending. fast and firm To all the long-held teaching Of a mother ever true; As in vampires unmortal Folk on the Theyse’s portal Heyduck-like do believe. But my Christine thou dost dally, And wilt my loving parry Till I myself avenging To a vampire’s health a-drinking Him toast in pale tockay.
And as softly thou art sleeping To thee shall I come creeping And thy life’s blood drain away. And so shalt thou be trembling For thus shall I be kissing And death’s threshold thou’ it be crossing With fear, in my cold arms. And last shall I thee question Compared to such instruction What are a mother’s charms?
Well, let’s unpack Der Vampir and come to some understandings. First, we establish the immortal, the immortal vampire, and a love that lasts and that continues, a need and an energy to want to take, to stay with, to be with forever. These are themes discussed in my article on Poe’s poem Annabel Lee. And, in another article, we I discussed the story of Tokaj wine (“Tockay”). The poem cites the River Tisa and compares blood to Tokaj. Remember, the purest form of Tokaj wine is called Essencia, the essence, and it’s thick and it’s sweet but it’s pungent and it’s earthy. And so here we have the blood compared to a beautiful, delicious Tokaj wine, the essence of life.
And we see duality here, a challenge to the mother’s faith, a challenging of the goodness and the mortal life, with the immortal vampire life, as it’s described, standing in contrast, wanting to take away. And we also see this idea of love and death in contrast. Only through death, only through the life-giving and the life-taking-away of blood, the essence of life, the Tokaj wine, so to speak, for the vampire, only by taking life can there be an eternity together, can the love be lasting and sustained. So again, duality, goodness and evil, life and death, the taking away to lead to eternity. And some interesting parallels to earlier articles around death and everlasting love and the essence, the Tokaj wine, and the continuity of history.
Let us return to Feast Upon The Light and certain pivot points that bring our story together on duality and around aspects and themes of continuity within the vampire story. A final reference to earlier articles: This narrative centers around a discovery, and the discovery relates to the uncurling front of the fern. Recall, in an earlier article, we discussed the eternity of the curl of the fern, the eternity as it carries forth representations in culture, in history, in sustenance, and that uncurling of the fern as a natural process of photosynthesis. In this narrative, we find the ultimate discovery for this vampire: The life-sustaining nature of the sun, of light, standing in contrast to the death that it brings to the immortal vampire. Sustaining and taking away. This is the vampire’s discovery.
Let us dive deeper into this narrative. Feast Upon The Light begins with a kind of invitation, doesn’t it? We are invited to be the voyeur of this vampire’s journey, and perhaps that is our duality. Many would not consider themselves a voyeur, a pair of eyes peeking into the life of another, but in fact we are. We are invited into this journey. We are invited into this story and, like a fly on the wall, we are going to witness what is to come.
Is this our duality? Your duality? Are you a voyeur? Or, do you consider yourself one who takes an interest in the lives or the visions of others? What is your duality? That is a question to keep in mind as we progress through this reading. Is there a public you and a private you? Are there thoughts and ideas that you keep to yourself? Are there needs that you keep to yourself? Is there a part of you that needs to be expressed in some way through story? Socially? Through personal connection? What is your duality?
We take a deep dive into the duality of a vampire, and what do we discover after this initial introduction? We discover that it is science, it is the books, it is the product of humankind, our knowledge, our learning and it is the cycle of life, the complete circle of life, as the vampire states, this idea that what can kill him also creates life. The light creates and sustains life in plants and in animals, as he states, from “the mightiest leviathan down to the smallest mite. How they live. How they die. All in this great circle.” This a powerful line, as you will read, at the conclusion of this article.
It is light. It is biology and what the vampire calls a “blissful and wild decadence” that he seeks. He wants more than waiting. He seeks more than observing. He wants to be part of the blissful and wild decadence that is light, that is life. And, again, these words are wielded in such an effective way to tell this story. Through these books that he has found and his studies, it is as if he has taken himself out and laid himself across the earth and let the bright sun shine on him.
The vampire talks about the glistening petals, “the glistening petals that tempt the wanted insects to the flowers fecund in fertile depths.” Again, it us not just the earth, It is not just life. It is not just nature. He wants to experience this. He wants to immerse himself in it. He wants to experience the pleasures that this all brings. He wants to, in his own words, “turn the sun’s rays into sustenance.” And what is he going to do? How is he going to do that? As a vampire? What has he been hiding from us in this story? Where is he taking this? Well, as voyeurs of this story, we need to know.
So he’s intrigued. He’s enticed. He understands that this seemingly universal act of creation is forbidden to him. He thinks and plans. He wonders, what powers could be bestowed on him? What would be the fruit of this light if he could be among “the dappled green fronds of ivy which latch upon my walls and feast upon light?” He waxes poetic about what could be and where it could take him, where it could take his powers, his perpetual, eternal life, his body? What would this do? And again, this line, “the dappled green fronds of ivy which latch upon my walls and feast upon light:” He sees himself in that and it reminds us of that curling fern that reaches out and unfurls towards the light, towards life, and thus gives life.
In so many ways, I found this so powerful, having explored the world of the fern and its meaning and how it is carried through culture and how it sustains life. This is no ordinary vampire. He has a plan and it is great and it is immense. He is going to launch this plan during Solstice. He describes Solstice as “that brief opening when this reverent satellite that we inhabit worships its mistress more fervently.” The theme of the body and of the erotic is so strongly carried through the vampire story, isn’t it? Those rays, surely they would be their “most potent, their most irresistible?”
He views life as something to be wrestled with, to struggle with, to dance with, to experience, to seduce in some way, some way so that he can take what could be his, so that he can experience more. And how will he do this? Well, it is so simple: he is going to create a careful slit in a curtain and sit and wait for the sun to shine. It is a seductive, irresistible beam upon his neck and upon his body, and without revealing the effect this has on him, allow me to just recall a few lines that I think will accentuate this.
He talks about the light and how it begins to “playfully excite my senses.” He is already trembling with excitement, resolved “not to move to experience the power and what may come from this light.” He describes it as being “delicate at first, just the faintest hint of feeling and teasing him”, then a “tingling in his heart”, racing as his “breath quickens.” He describes this first sensation as “delicious.” And, here comes the duality, he describes it as “merging from pleasure to pain, like kisses that turn to ice, cold daggers piercing” him. And as he comes to this realization, this duality, this pleasure and pain, he “shudders from his being” and he “cries out in ecstasy.” He calls it his “‘beautiful torment, the silver light, the gentle lover” that he invites in, and has so much to teach him. So much to teach him about life, about living, about feelings and sensations, about his own duality and, in his words, “the potent emotion deep at his core, a pain that’s unbearable,” and the “spectra of death playing at the edge of his mind.”
This is a vampire story for the ages. It is about continual discovery. It carries that duality so strongly forward, but also washes back upon the vampire, providing a kind of pleasure that is unspeakable. He puts words to it. He talks about being seduced, about being hurt, about being ravished, and in the end he wants to share this. He wants to share this pleasure. He tells the story and invites us in. And, oh, aren’t we the curious voyeurs, our own duality projected onto this. We want to know more, we want to learn what the vampire experiences. We need to know. We also want to feast on the light.
I return to the question: What is your duality? What is it that you keep closed off in the dark only, perhaps, to pierce a curtain to let a little bit of light in? What are your dualities that you don’t share with others? Are they cravings? Are they needs? Are they wants? Are they too personal to share? Are they too dark and deep to explore?
In the end, this reading leaves us with some questions. Who is it that the vampire is inviting in? The vampire, in the end, is inviting us to explore ourselves. What should we cast off? What should we reveal? What is it that you bring to this story? This is the vampire’s story, yet it is a story about us. It is an eternal story about good and bad and pleasure and pain and secrets and want and need. Are vampires in our own right? This reading, this feast, will encourage you to let the light in and, in doing so, to invite others into your world. Feast Upon The Light by Clacks Writer.
Feast Upon The Light by Clacks Writer
You know our kind. Beings of blood and death, as we are. Predators, feeding upon the weak, the vulnerable… and the chaste. Ageless and timeless. The ancient ones.
We are doomed, or blessed – depending on your view – to live out the centuries eternal. I suppose we do seem an alluring species. We possess many things which make us the envy of mortals. Not least amongst them – the gift of time. Time to bear witness to the waxing and waning of the living realm. The seasons’ soft undulations of bloom and decay. The planet’s revolutions of darkness… and light.
We watch these events, mostly with spiritless indifference, as a cat might observe the slow death of its prey. But sometimes… sometimes one can discover something new – something which adds a fresh, luminous spark to the deathless procession of existence. Let me tell you of it.
Since I was turned, I have of course read many of the written works of mankind. This learning has imbued me with knowledge of many things – events, people, the thread of history running down through millennia. But what most aroused my interest were the books on the natural sciences. An unusual subject for the undead, I know. But nonetheless a truly unexpected delight in my reading. I devoured piece after piece of knowledge. Knowledge encompassing all of nature’s offerings – the delicate air, the boundless expanses of the oceans, the profound, creaking age of the earth which breathes and shifts imperceptibly beneath our feet. Animals of all kinds, from the mightiest leviathan to the smallest mite. How they live. How they die. All in this great circle.
But it was the botanical tomes that I particularly loved. I found in them a kind of blissful and wild decadence. With their lists of Latin names to tease the tongue, their sensuous depictions of smooth tendrils… sap-soaked leaves… glistening petals that tempt the wanton insects to the flowers’ fecund and fertile depths.
What more appropriate a place to find that spark – that tiny, individual morsel of wisdom which arrested my mind and made my cold heart pound within my chest. I’m almost afraid to utter it. It seems trite to speak of it so simply now, but… I learned of the way in which plants possess the remarkable ability to turn the sun’s rays into sustenance. I was astounded. That very same elemental force that means destruction for me is to them the very essence of life. I learned that this was indeed true for all living things – without light they are diminished. The enormous power of this simple chemical reaction! It intrigued me. Enticed me.
I began to feel a deep longing. I began to wish that I too could partake in this delight – this seemingly universal act of creation that was forbidden to me. I knew it was not possible… yet… was it? Could I find a way to experience this? What powers would be bestowed on me if I could bring this to fruition, even if just for a moment? Could I become akin to the dappled green fronds of ivy which latch upon my walls… and feast upon light?
I admit, I became obsessed. With time enough to fill infinite oceans, one has ample opportunity to dwell. My mind would not cease thinking of it. That was when I learned of the Solstice – that brief opening when this reverent satellite we inhabit worships its mistress more fervently. The sun – that enraged fire threatening to be my destroyer – would appear, suspended at its divine apex, like an eagle poised moments before a kill. Its rays would surely be at their most potent. Their most… irresistible.
I had to take advantage of this. The night before, I carefully prepared my experiment. It was so simple. A single cut – that’s all it took. In the thick, heavy drapes hanging up at my study window. A perpendicular slit, deftly teased open just the right amount, to allow a small shaft of light to penetrate the gloom. Then, I waited.
The sun began to rise the next morning, and there, in the dimness, I first glimpsed its rays. Unused to such a sight, they began to playfully excite my senses, though I found that I could not look directly at them without discomfort. Thus I found myself, on that bright summer’s day, alone, sitting in the chair in the dark of my study, watching out of the corner of my eye as the brief sliver of light moved steadily closer. From its trajectory, it would reach me within an hour or so, and begin its slow creep across my exposed throat.
I was already trembling with excitement, resolving to myself not to move no matter what happened. And then, finally, after what seemed like an age… it started. Delicately at first. Just the faintest hint I felt, teasing me. Then it crept further, and further. I felt a tingling. My heart raced. My breath quickened. Then… Oh! The way it conjured itself – that first delicious sensation! The way it merged from pleasure to pain – oh! Like a warm kiss suddenly turned to ice cold daggers piercing me. I shook, and my whole body ached with its memory as it subsided and I came to rest.
But no sooner could I think about what I had just experienced, it returned – stronger and even more intoxicating. Biting. Searing. Entering me. Seeping into my very being. And so it continued – a rising and a falling – each wave greater and more potent than the last. And like a still surface suddenly troubled by a resonance – its ripples undulated through me, growing, extending, until they filled my senses entirely. I felt a pulsing, as if my whole body were contracting. Shaking, trembling, I grasped my chair ever tighter. A shudder left my being and I cried out in ecstasy.
Oh how the beautiful torment of that moment returns to me now! Tears streaked down my face as I felt the last delicate vibrations leave me. As the sliver of light – that gentle lover – caressed my skin one final time, then faded to darkness once again.
Was it the pain that I enjoyed? Undoubtedly it was. But it was something more than that. It was the realisation that, until that moment, I had not felt fear for many centuries. Not since I was amongst the living had I observed in myself the tremble of that potent emotion. And now I had felt it, deep at my core, as the pain had become almost unbearable… and the spectre of death had played at the edges of my mind. It was sublime.
And now I want to share that with you, my darling. Come. Come with me and feel for the first time once again. Let us together experience this life-giving act. Let us allow ourselves to be seduced… hurt… ravished… Let us devour each other’s pleasure. Until we are truly sated. Let us feast upon the light.
©️ 2023 Dante Remy
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