Later.--I endorse the last words written

Later.--I endorse the last words written, but this time there is no doubt in question. I shall not fear to sleep in any place where he is not. I have placed the crucifix over the head of my bed, I imagine that my rest is thus freer from dreams, and there it shall remain.

When he left me I went to my room. After a little while, not hearing any sound, I came out and went up the stone stair to where I could look out towards the South. There was some sense of freedom in the vast expanse, inaccessible though it was to me, as compared with the narrow darkness of the courtyard. Looking out on this, I felt that I was indeed in prison, and I seemed to want a breath of fresh air, though it were of the night. I am beginning to feel this nocturnal existence tell on me. It is destroying my nerve. I start at my own shadow, and am full of all sorts of horrible imaginings. God knows that there is ground for my terrible fear in this accursed place! I looked out over the beautiful expanse, bathed in soft yellow moonlight till it was almost as light as day. In the soft light the distant hills became melted, and the shadows in the valleys and gorges of velvety blackness. The mere beauty seemed to cheer me. There was peace and comfort in every breath I drew.  As I leaned from the window my eye was caught by something moving a storey below me, and somewhat to my left, where I imagined, from the order of the rooms, that the windows of the Count's own room would look out. The window at which I stood was tall and deep, stone-mullioned, and though weatherworn, was still complete. But it was evidently many a day since the case had been there.  I drew back behind the stonework, and looked carefully out.

What I saw was the Count's head coming out from the window. I did not see the face, but I knew the man by the neck and the movement of his back and arms. In any case I could not mistake the hands which I had had some many opportunities of studying. I was at first interested and somewhat amused, for it is wonderful how small a matter will interest and amuse a man when he is a prisoner. But my very feelings changed to repulsion and terror when I saw the whole man slowly emerge from the window and begin to crawl down the castle wall over the dreadful abyss, face down with his cloak spreading out around him like great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes.  I thought it was some trick of the moonlight, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept looking, and it could be no delusion.  I saw the fingers and toes grasp the corners of the stones, worn clear of the mortar by the stress of years, and by thus using every projection and inequality move downwards with considerable speed, just as a lizard moves along a wall. 

What manner of man is this, or what manner of creature, is it in the semblance of man? I feel the dread of this horrible place overpowering me.  I am in fear, in awful fear, and there is no escape for me. I am encompassed about with terrors that I dare not think of.

Comments

[David40]

The important part of this passage, I think, is that Dracula allows himself to be seen for what he is. Presumably Dracula could travel around the castle in slightly more human ways if he wanted to keep his true nature secret. Jonathan clearly 'knows too much' at this point, and his period of usefulness to Dracula must be nearing its end. Making even a pretense of concealing his true nature is now too much effort for Dracula to be bothered with. Dracula is only keeping Jonathan alive at all because he does not expect Jonathan could escape alive, and has small uses for Jonathan that may still be of some benefit to Dracula.

[Elizabeth]

The scene of the Count crawling down the castle wall (perhaps my favorite in the entire book) is depicted on the cover of the 1901 abridged edition of the novel (first paperback).

It was also the inspiration for the following lines in T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land": "And bats with baby faces in the violet light/ Whistled, and beat their wings/ And crawled head downward down a blackened wall."

[David40]

I find the scene of the Count crawling down the castle wall to certainly be one of the most disturbing in the entire book. He is so obviously mocking Jonathan and all of Jonathan's 'civilized' ways. He (Dracula) is saying (at least the way I see it) 'this is what I am and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it'.

[David40]

Quick question, Elizabeth--why was an abridged version of the novel published so soon after the original novel? I mean, novels today are not usually changed significantly just four years after publication--what was the issue with the original version that substantial modifications were deemed necessary?

[Elizabeth]

Re abridged edition - a cheaper book for the less affluent general market. That's the short answer. I published an article about this edition and how it differs from the original. You'll find it at www.blooferland.com/drc
Follow the link for Stoker & Dracula: miscellaneous articles.

[David40]

It is interesting that a fifteen percent reduction in the length of the text was significant enough to mean the difference between the book being affordable or not. Of course, presumably there were other changes, like going to paperback, that also reduced the cost.

[Elizabeth]

There was a considerable reduction in cost. As you can see on the cover illustration, the paperback sold for 6d (6 pence). The hardcover first edition sold for 6 shillings. (Prior to the 1970s when British currency went decimal, there were 12 pence in a shilling, 20 shillings in a pound.)

A paperback is much cheaper to produce than a hardcover. I suspect the paper itself would have been of cheaper quality.

What interests me the most is the material that Stoker considered expendable (assuming he made the deletions, which is likely). If you scroll past the end of my article at the Dracula Research Centre (past the endnotes), I have included some of the major passages that were deleted, including some from the early chapters that we have already been reading.

[David40]

Thanks for the pointer to your article with the deletions, Elizabeth. Since we are reading this novel day by day, I'll concern myself only with passages in the text as we have seen thus far. Most of the deletions I agree with, at least in the context of the novel being deemed to have 'too many notes' and some deletions being unavoidable. One that you commented on that I think cannot be deleted (but was):

"The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East..."

This is central to the novel--the idea of two worlds clashing--and shouldn't be deleted. On the other hand, the description of the menus at hotel restaurants, while setting the stage, can presumably be dropped without losing much of the meaning. The other passage that I consider crucial, that was removed, is the following:

"The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told."

Actually I note that this passage seems to have been deleted twice--once in the 1901 abridged edition, and again as part of a larger section that looks like it should have appeared in this online edition on May 8 (or possibly May 9--it being a 'midnight' entry on May 8), but seems to have been omitted. I presume its omission was intentional in 1901 but a simple oversight here.

In any event, it is an important passage. For one thing, it introduces the concept of blood being important to Dracula--rather a significant idea, I'd say. But it also establishes some sense of what kind of a man Dracula was in life. He was probably a warrior--a man who believed in peace only by achieving it through war. It also is a perceptive, and, I think, accurate comment on the historical times in which the novel was written. It was a fin-de-siecle era when people were reflecting on a century that was drawing to a close. There were great unresolved tensions between nations, but for the most part these tensions were to be allowed to remain unaddressed until early in the new century. Hence the sense of it being a time of dishonourable peace--the stresses between countries were not settled, but they were being allowed to fester (at least at the level of the great powers) for a time.

The cynic in me wonders if this is the real reason this passage was deleted, and if perhaps this passage was omitted at the insistence of the publisher, not Stoker. The upper classes didn't want the lower classes to know they were soon to again be sent off to war, even though that was inevitable by 1901. But that is pure speculation on my part.

[Bryan]

A copy and paste error on my part. The passage is restored to 8 May; please refresh the page, read and enjoy.

[David40]

Thanks Bryan!!!