The Last Breath Before Death – review

Author: Alan Golbourn

First Published: 2024

Contains spoilers

The Blurb: BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER

A missing brother … An imminent phenomenon …

Award-winning comic book illustrator and artist Jimmy Cochran is also a freelance reporter in New York City, specialising in the supernatural. Upon hearing that his estranged brother, Quentin, has gone missing with his best friend over in Germany, Jimmy becomes concerned — unable to shake off the feeling of foreboding and dread. Things worsen when he quickly learns that the missing two are in great danger from an unequalled evil, which is connected to an upcoming, ominous and phenomenal event.

A mysterious ‘man’ with a terrifying tale …

With time running out, Jimmy investigates further, in spite of the strong warnings and the danger to his own life — particularly after he is contacted by a peculiar and mystifying man with a horrific, nefarious past of his own, linked to old Serbian and German folklores and a sinister, secret brotherhood.

The review: I received this novel by Alan Golbourn for review and, honestly, my take is mixed. On the one hand it is a really interesting story and races along at the end of the novel at a breathtaking pace. However, there are issue with the prose, specifically around the dialogue.

So, we have a character Jimmy, an Englishman in New York who is estranged from his brother, Quentin, due to missing the other’s wedding (for medical reasons). Yet, following a call from their mother, suggesting that Quentin and his friend have gone missing in Germany, he begins have a feeling of intense foreboding. He has also had an accidental meeting with a psychic, and their subsequent association convinces him something is very wrong. He travels first to England and then Germany.

Quentin has been embroiled with (and kidnapped by) a vampire cult and the author’s choice of lore was really quite interesting. He based the cult on the history and folklore around Arnold Paole, as well as the Germanic Nachzehrer, bringing in the shroud eater aspect, but making them much more active and purposeful than suggested in Bane, who posited that it “remains in its grave during the day not because it is harmed by sunlight but rather because it chooses not to confront the living who would without a doubt try to destroy it.” Bane’s entry suggests they are more an astral creature that devour life (energy) but the author has taken the name and myth and created a physical, deadly adversary who are looking to perform a ritual to increase their powers. The author genuinely looks to make the vampires here a thing of nightmares.

The first half of the book paces steadily as we get to know Jimmy – the author has added an afterword about the character, explaining some of his foibles for those who believed he made a strange protagonist, but I never thought negatively of the character – and start placing the pieces together. The pace ratchets up when he travels to Germany and starts trying to investigate the disappearance himself. The author carries the reader with that vastly increasing pace. I mentioned an issue and it is within the dialogue which often feels unreal – with a formality in the phrasing that just didn’t feel natural. The author contacted me as I was reading through the volume and I mentioned this to him, he suggested that this had been said on an occasion before but felt it was the way his mind works, which is fair. It is also true to say that dialogue writing is, to me, one of the hardest parts of authorship and one that develops over time. As mentioned, the formality in some phrasing was the main issue but also, occasionally, a non-British character would use specifically British idioms, which was also noticed whilst reading. However, I must stress that the story and the pace kept me engaged. It is those elements that suggests to me as 6 out of 10 being fair with a thought that Alan Golbourn’s writing can only go from strength to strength.

In Paperback @ Amazon US

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Vampires of Lore: Traditional Tales and Modern Misconceptions – review

Author: A P Sylvia

First Published: 2019

Contains spoilers

The Blurb: Vampire . . . the word immediately conjures up bloodstained fangs, an aversion to sunlight, bats, garlic, and wooden stakes. These undead immortals have haunted our favorite books, television shows, and movies for decades. This exploration of a seemingly supernatural topic delves into past traditions around the world and how those traditions have affected our pop-culture modern-day monster. Explore belief systems as well as origins of various notions we all seem to have about vampires, and unearth the bloody dirt about this mystical creature. Discover differences and similarities between the realm of folklore and what modern media has taught us. Did villagers really use wooden stakes, garlic, and mirrors? What about vampires turning into bats or hypnotizing victims? Did they really cause disease, turn into dogs, and sleep in coffins? Topics are arranged by trait so that the reader can consider each characteristic before believing or dismissing it. So . . . if you're ready, let's hunt some vampires.

The review: There is a trepidation when facing a reference book sometimes. I have looked at them previously – especially ones driven by a desire by a publisher to tap into a pop culture area and where they seem to spend more attention on design (this is a nice hardback volume with fancy, glossy pages) than content – and found myself annoyed. Annoyed by lack of referencing, lack of indexing and, in some of the worst cases, errors by the bucket full.

So, lets cover off what this is about first before looking as to whether it addressed the standard gripes. Sylvia has set a task of examining tropes from the vampire genre (running on a vampire definition in chapter one of a restless corpse, corporeal and blood-drinker, but veering off-piste when there is something of interest to see) and comparing them to extant folklore to see whether those tropes/traits are from original sourcing or a media invention. The working definition established, the book is then split into a further 19 chapters each about a given trait (for example, sunlight has a chapter, as does garlic and mirrors respectively).

The splitting the chapters into trait might have made a lack of index forgivable – except he does index his work, happy days, and each chapter has end-note citations, and there is an overall bibliography. The writing is fairly chatty, but engaging for it, but I would say that the chapters are fairly short and there is certainly scope in some for expansion.

When it comes to accuracy I found (for the most part) that the author had examined relevant sources and was in the right ballpark. There were areas that possibly demanded deeper exploration – so, as a prime example, the conclusion was that a vampire’s ability to fly was from the media vampire and likely a twentieth-century invention (whilst acknowledging a couple of rare folkloric examples, one Russian and one Chinese). However, I would counter argue that flying is referenced in Pepopukin in Corsica (1826) and actively seen in Phantoms (1863). To give the author fair hearing their conclusion is stated to rest around “major vampire-themed works” but Alexandre Dumas père, it can be argued, must be deemed a major source and his Ruthven based stage-play contains stage notes that state, “Lord Ruthven first sits up—then rises completely and having shaken his hair to the wind, he deploys great wings and flies off.” However – having said that (and if the author ever does a 2nd edition I hope they consider the works I have mentioned) this was an incredibly rare moment where I disagreed with the conclusion on an error of fact (or perhaps parameter). For the main this showed a diligence in research exemplified by the marvellous find of a brief reference to the, so-called, Vampire of Snowdon – a tantalising moment from 1890.

So, it is a light volume – it took a day to read – but written in a very readable style and, whilst I believe there was plenty of room for expansion, as a primer for the division between folklore and media this does the job well. 7.5 out of 10.

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Vampires: First Blood – Volume 1: The Vampire Lords – review

Editor: James Grant Goldin

First Published: 2019


The blurb: Before Edward…

Before Lestat…

Before Dracula…

These vampires set the stage for all the rest…

Arnold Paul… The ‘real’ vampire of 18th Century Serbia…

Lord Ruthven… the first multi-media vampire star…

Varney… antiheroic prince of the penny dreadfuls…

Count Kostaki… Terror of the Carpathians…

Meet then… and their brothers in blood…

The review: I was contacted by editor James Goldin to see if I wanted to review this volume and the companion volume that focuses on female vampires (and will be subject to a separate review). This volume gathers a variety of 19th century vampire stories (along with a couple of 18th Century entries in reportage and poetry). Of course, all have been in other volumes (indeed these are specifically drawn from public domain). However, gathering them in another volume is not necessarily a bad thing.

Goldin bookends each tale with a commentary, often about the story (or author) specifically and points out some interesting factoids. The shame with this is these are not referenced, for a student of vampire media that would have been useful, and the story's source is not referenced. This is important as these stories can shift and change a little – especially those translated, so if you take the Family of the Vourdalak, I have a Skal translation that says (as per the version in this volume) that a vampire must be staked using aspen but I have a Nikanov translation that suggests ash. What is really useful is the glossary at the end of each entry, which explains words and phrases perhaps unfamiliar to the twenty-first century reader.

The stories included are all important in the genre but I might have put a little less of Varney the Vampire (21 chapters) and actually jumped through the book more (perhaps including the first chapter, the mob scene from early in the series, something from the London Hotel sequence, something from the continental stories and the turning of Clara – though the latter is included in the second volume). I then might have used some of the volume space to add in, perhaps, Karl Heinrich Ulrichs’ Manor or one of the more unusual Le Fanu stories (taking the point that they do not necessarily explicitly involve blood). It was a shame that Tolstoy’s Upir had only a brief excerpt, but also understandable as the editor had been unable to find a public domain translation.

The criticism on content is a personal taste thing, however, and references aside (and to be fair, most compendiums do not reference source/facts), this was worthwhile. It was fun re-reading some of these classics and I always love it when I discover something new and I had not heard of the comedic verse the Thirsty Vampires (1765) by William Hayes. 7 out of 10.

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The Universal Vampire: Origins and Evolution of a Legend – review

Editors: Barbara Brodman & James E Doan

First published: 2013

Contains spoilers

The blurb: Since the publication of John Polidori’s The Vampyre (1819), the vampire has been a mainstay of Western culture, appearing consistently in literature, art, music (notably opera), film, television, graphic novels and popular culture in general. Even before its entrance into the realm of arts and letters in the early nineteenth century, the vampire was a feared creature of Eastern European folklore and legend, rising from the grave at night to consume its living loved ones and neighbors, often converting them at the same time into fellow vampires.

A major question exists within vampire scholarship: to what extent is this creature a product of European cultural forms, or is the vampire indeed a universal, perhaps even archetypal figure? In this collection of sixteen original essays, the contributors shed light on this question. One essay traces the origins of the legend to the early medieval Norse Draugr, an “undead” creature who reflects the underpinnings of Dracula, the latter first appearing as a vampire in Anglo-Irish Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel, Dracula.

In addition to these investigations of the Western mythic, literary and historic traditions, other essays in this volume move outside Europe to explore vampire figures in Native American and Mesoamerican myth and ritual, as well as the existence of similar vampiric traditions in Japanese, Russian and Latin American art, theatre, literature, film, and other cultural productions.

The female vampire looms large, beginning with the Sumerian goddess Lilith, including the nineteenth-century Carmilla, and moving to vampiresses in twentieth-century film, literature, and television series. Scientific explanations for vampires and werewolves constitute another section of the book, including eighteenth-century accounts of unearthing, decapitation and cremation of suspected vampires in Eastern Europe. The vampire’s beauty, attainment of immortality and eternal youth are all suggested as reasons for its continued success in contemporary popular culture.

The review: I do like books like this but they come with two problems. One is the price tag – though I understand that an academic piece is not going to sell as well and that influences the tag. The second is a variance of quality between contributors’ pieces and the Universal Vampire is no exception when it comes to that.

Looking at the blurb, for a moment, the premise of the book is looking for universal roots within the vampire genre. The book doesn’t actually do that, in totality at least, though it does take us on an international journey.

However the first chapter, Draugula by Matthias Teichert, certainly did this and I find the exploration of both Draugr and Revenant myths and legends fascinating. It is clear that there are heavy similarities to the vampire myth that developed amongst the Slavic nations. The biggest difference was the vampire seemed to have a fixed focus on blood drinking (often, it seems, assumed due to the corpse state when exhumed) and the other types not so much. Blood drinking and flesh eating do appear within some of the myths, but not so much in this essay, which nonetheless was informative and thought provoking.

Flying to the other end of the spectrum, the piece Biomedical Origins of Vampirism by Edward O. Keith could have been left out of the book altogether. A tired re-hash of the discredited porphyria theory (with an almost embarrassed admission that the theory does not fit) is followed by equally tired looks at Pellegra and Rabies. This misses the point that illness as a source of the myth does not rest with a condition suffered by the accused vampire (as they are dead by the time an assumption of vampirism is reached) rather it is with the victims. As such this chapter managed to completely avoid tuberculosis – a disease that we know certainly did influence folk opinion in the 19th century American panics. It was amusing, therefore, that the next chapter, Evidence for the Undead by Leo Ruickbie, shot down Keith’s chapter in a couple of paragraphs. The Keith Chapter also showed a lack of remembrance or knowledge of Dracula with suggestions that the Count avoided daylight (he certainly was abroad in daylight and one of the supporting quotes for this assertion is misattributed to the Count when it was Van Helsing’s dialogue) and only preyed on women prior to their marriage (Mina was married before she attracted the Count’s nightly visitations).

If that chapter is the low point in the book there was a Lilith chapter that was pretty light and a view that Stoker (and subsequently Dracula scholars) got details of Transylvanian society and cuisine wrong was met with a mighty shrug of the shoulders as it is clear that Stoker only used travel books to research that setting. In honesty the argument was very sound but the point of the debate was lost on me.

As well as the Draugula chapter and Ruickbie chapter particular favourites included a chapter by Ridenhour comparing Carmilla and Let the Right One In and Ruthner’s look at Visum et Repertum, the report of the Arnold Paole case.

All in all, for the full volume 7.5 out of 10.

The Stranger – review

Director: Guillermo Amoedo

Release date: 2014

Contains spoilers

This is widely touted as an “Eli Roth presents” vehicle, which is all well and good but I am left – having watched the film – with the distinct impression that it is relying on that connection to sell itself. The film itself is flawed – and in one way that flaw is almost fatal.

This is a shame as the film itself has some level of interesting (if under explored) premise. It was shot, I understand, in Chile but is set in a small Canadian harbour town. The setting does actually suit the film.

Ana's grave

Things begin with a stranger (Cristobal Tapia Montt) arriving by boat. He goes to a specific address and asks for Ana Paole (Lorenza Izzo). The young man, Peter (Nicolás Durán), who answers the door says she doesn’t live there and directs the stranger to her grave. A few things here… The wooden marker is remarkably well preserved 16 years on. Ana is clearly named after the patient zero of vampirology – Arnold Paole (Petar Blagojevich died a year before Paole but it was Paole’s case that was more widely reported and really brought the idea of the vampire into the consciousness of Western Europe). The stranger is not named within the contemporary film but is credited as Martin.



Lorenza Izzo as Ana

The film goes back in time some 16 years. The stranger looks much the same with just a tidier beard. He comes home and the place is a mess, chicken carcasses and vessels that clearly have held blood. He is looking for his wife Ana (Lorenza Izzo, Hemlock Grove) but she is hiding in the locked bedroom. He breaks the door down and her face is covered in blood, by the bed is a woman, her throat torn but still alive. The stranger closes her eyes and then breaks her neck.

Luis Gnecco as De Luca

Back to the present and he is sat on a bench. A group of non-descript thugs lead by Caleb (Ariel Levy) approach him, demanding their bench. It ends with him being beaten. Peter is out spraying graffiti and sees the attack. He tells them they’ll kill the stranger and is told to move along, which he does as Caleb stabs the beaten man in the stomach. Peter rides off on his bike, sees a cop, Lt De Luca (Luis Gnecco), driving past and flags him down, telling him about the attack. The cop approaches gun out, the two henchmen leg it but Caleb stays where he is. Peter, watching from a vantage spot, sees De Luca help Caleb with the body – it turns out that Caleb is his son. They take the body to be buried, believing him dead (as he isn’t breathing), but a call from the police despatcher interrupts them and they cover the body to deal with later. Peter goes over, realises he is alive and takes him home.

Nicolás Durán as Peter

Now the main issue with the film. Peter is the closest thing we get to a likeable character and he is a meth-head and not really sympathetic. De Luca is a bent cop, his son is a psycho, Peter’s mother (Alessandra Guerzoni) fails to illicit any sympathy and the stranger is obnoxious. There is not a single likeable character or, actually, one who carries our interest. I don’t subscribe to the idea that films have to have likeable or heroic characters to work, but the characters must illicit some reaction that makes us want to watch them – even if it is only to thrill at their Machiavellian machinations or outright acts of evil. Indeed evil characters can carry a charm, as can anti-heroes. Nada in this and it is the film’s near fatal flaw.

facing the sun

In a further flashback we see the stranger try to kill himself and Ana. She lost control, and fed from a human, because she was pregnant and manages to escape him. It has taken 16 years for him to find her last location and the fact that he could go straight to the home of the nurse who took on their child (Peter) makes no sense – Ana voluntarily handed Peter over and then committed suicide by daylight. The fact that Peter has a graffiti tag that is the same as a mark the Stranger wears didn’t make any sense either – I suppose one could argue supernatural knowledge but nothing suggests Peter has such knowledge.

Cristobal Tapia Montt is the Stranger

The Stranger believes he is the last vampire (and, we assume, he has hunted any others down). His blood is extremely infectious, and someone getting it into an open wound will turn. With that (and the fact that he suggests vampires represent man’s doom) we might have had a viral basis for the vampires and the film might have been a simile for disease – it wasn’t really. There might have been interesting things done with the son of a vampire being addicted to drugs, there wasn’t. These vampires are definitely supernatural.

a victim

Ana was 47 when she died, by her grave, but is played by a twenty three year old. The stranger looks much the same age 16 years on and so we can guess they are long lived/immortal. Sunlight kills them and their blood has a miraculously fast healing factor. It can be used to heal without infecting is it is blessed first. There is the mysterious symbol that isn’t explained in any way. Beyond that we get very little lore. There is an indication that the vampires have superior strength, except for when the plot calls on them to be subdued or beaten.

another victim

The film is slowly paced, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing but it needs characters to anchor us into the pace – and as I say the characters are unsympathetic, annoying and irrelevant in turns. The film could also have done with some background to the vampirism as that might have stretched our interest out. As it stands I am left frustrated by a film that might have worked with some judicious changes. 4 out of 10.

The imdb page is here.

Realm of the Vampire: History and the Undead – review

Author: Daniel J Wood

First published: 2009

The Blurb: Do vampires exist? Our ancestors certainly believed they did.

We are forced to rely on ancient records and eyewitness testimony, and absolute proof remains in the shadows, just out of reach.

Vampire research has fallen into a pattern of debunking, with academic writers chasing after trendy theories to explain away the vampire.

The review: I came across this book through Anthony Hogg and purchased it via kindle as this seems to be the only way to get the book currently.

After a foreword by David A Sattman, which seems to garble the Arnold Paole story, we move onto Wood’s work. He briefly introduces English Tradition and then the New England vampire scares before going into the work proper. This concentrates primarily on Polish vampirism.

There is debate as to whether the restless dead of the English tradition, revenants, can rightly be called vampires. Wood answers that by laying down the concept that whilst, “More and more modern authors, frustrated by this linguistic looseness, have attempted to restrict the use of the term ‘vampire’ by imposing an artificial dichotomy between the vampire-as-living-corpses and other unquiet dead. The folkloric sources of many nations, many realms of the undead, do not support this dichotomy, which itself is based upon a unique set of eighteenth-century cases.” Pretty much espousing, therefore, the Montague Summers broad view of the folklore.

Wood seems to almost take the view point of accepting the existence of vampires as reported. To me, accepting the theories of (say) Barber does not lessen the power of the original belief and thus I can, at least, accept a (mistaken) genuine belief by those who laid down the stories and unearthed the corpses, and the impact this had culturally, psychologically and politically thereafter.

Wood is right in his assertion that less is known of the Polish traditions, compared to those of the more Southern Slavs, and draws a fairly vivid picture of a Poland at the height of its power. He introduces us to concepts such as the zmory, living vampires that fulfilled a night hag role but tended to be shown as young and beautiful (interestingly the zmory only appear in Bane's Encyclopedia of Vampire Mythology, under zmora, as an alternative for incubus and do not have their own section). He also contemplates whether the occult activities in Poland (and Czech) led to the large numbers of restless dead reported through the post-Renaissance period – a position that seems sustainable only if one agrees that the outbreaks were real.

One thing not mentioned, but that did strike me whilst reading the book, was around the thought that victims of vampiric attack often speak of strangulation and not blood drinking, the blood drinking apparently assumed because of the state of the corpse when exhumed. However, if the vampire strangled a victim and then drank the blood post mortem, then surviving victims would only have reported strangulation.

One frustrating part of the book was that whilst it has a large sources section, there was a tendency to not cite within text and one feels that a scholarly work should do so. There is no index, though this might have just been missed from the kindle version as redundant (kindle's having a search capacity). Beyond this it was an enjoyable read and, whilst I disagree with some of Wood's assertions, an interesting tome. 7 out of 10.

The Vampire in Slavic Cultures – review

Editor: Thomas J Garza

First published: 2009

Contains spoilers

The Blurb: Eight hundred years before Bram Stoker gave us the West's most memorable vampire in Dracula (1897) and long before the exploits of Vlad "the Impaler" Tepes horrified Europe (1431-46), the Russian Primary Chronicles write of a Novgorodian priest as Upyr' Likhij, or Wicked Vampire (1047). The Slavic and Balkan worlds abound in histories, legends, myths and literary portraits of the so-called undead, creatures which draw life out of the living in order to sustain their own. These stories of the vampire simultaneously fascinate and horrify, as they draw the reader closer to an understanding of death and the undead.

This unique volume brings together a wide variety of historical, critical, and literary texts that reveal and explore the origins, growth, and development of the vampire myth from its beginnings to the 21st century. These texts explore the vampire within the region of its origin in Western cultures: the lands of the Balkans, Eastern Europe and Russia. From the earliest recorded tales to the recent offerings of Russian vampires on film, this volume gives the reader a dynamic perspective on one the world's most enduring cultural phenomena, the vampire.

The Review: Normally I try to avoid comment on price when doing a review – content is more important, and I’d expect a higher price for an academic reference book. However I must mention that (at time of review) the new volume price for this book, on Amazon UK, has only just (for the first time) dipped below £100. On Amazon US it is still over $115.

Now, trusting I didn’t spend anywhere near that for my used copy, and despite the fact that it is a large tome, the contents of this would seem to be problematic given the price. Firstly it is made up of extracts from other works (all accredited) as well as having a section of literary offerings. There are extracts ranging from the great – for example Keyworth’s Troublesome Corpses – to the not so great – I still have no love for Konstantinos’ Vampires: the Occult Truth. However extracts from books such as Dundes’ The Vampire a Casebook and just about anything by Perkowski were noticeable by their absence. Perhaps permission to reprint couldn’t be gained, however missing these when including some of the lower quality extracts seemed at best a mistake.

The first section contains several definitions of vampires. Pulling these together from a variety of sources was a great idea. It allows the student to see several variants. However it has absolutely no commentary and this is a problem. So, when we get mention of vampires taking the form of a monstrous bat, Garza does not inform the reader that the primary association of bats and vampires comes from the novel Dracula. Given this is a reference book I would have expected some commentary but the book contains no primary commentary on the extracts, hence suggesting that Garza is an editor rather than author at the head of the review (he does translate a couple of pieces).

Worst still is that the reference for each extract dates the extract to the publication Garza used. Thus, when we read the definition of vampire from Dudley Wright’s Vampires and vampirism it offers the date of 2001 (the date the specific publication it was lifted from was reprinted) but the reader may be unaware that the original publication date is 1914. Looking at the date enables us to track changes in genre/folklore thoughts (to be absolutely fair some of the literature, later in the volume, carries an original publication date at the end).

Worse comes with the referencing and footnotes from the extracts. Some have them intact, some don’t – and we know some should have footnotes because the footnote’s citation number is still in the text but the foot (or end) note is nowhere to be seen. At the best this was lazy and unhelpful.

There are sections on both Vlad Ţepeş and Erzsébet Báthory. In the introduction Garza admits that neither was Slavic but suggests that “the geographic proximity of their dominions to the lands of the Slavs clearly had an effect on the development of the vampire myth in those neighbouring countries,” No evidence is offered for this by Garza, though he does suggest that both figures were given the “moniker of ‘vampire’”. Certainly that never occurred until post-Stoker for Ţepeş. Then again, given the cover of the volume I shouldn’t have been surprised by this content. Anyway, the sections themselves carry little in the way of balanced extracts. Though I personally suspect Báthory was guilty (at least to a degree) of the crimes accused (though they were used by her enemies to their advantage) I would have liked to have seen a “she was innocent and framed” article as a balance. As for Ţepeş an extract from Dracula: Sense and Nonsense or similar was sorely needed to offer a balanced viewpoint.

I was mystified as to why an essay on The Golem was included – again commentary would have explained Garza’s thinking, perhaps he expected readers would only be people with his lesson plan? I was also mystified as to why an extract from Blavatsky’s Isis Unveiled was included, only to be followed by a Montague Summers’ extract that contained the very same extract!

I was rather excited about the literature section. Though I have read the Night Watch (there is an extract from this), Viy and the Family of the Vourdalak there were others included that I had been unaware of and wanted to read. Positively I discovered Jan Neruda’s The Vampire and Iván Turgénieff’s Phantoms (even if I had to find the date of publication from other sources).

I was bemused at the inclusion of the extract from Dracula and the full text of the Vampyre: A Tale. Let us look at the title of the book again – In Slavic Cultures – as important as these two works are, they are not from Slavic culture (though some of the lore used by Stoker is). Other inclusions that were actually from Slavic culture (primarily Russian, it has to be said) bemused me just as much. Karamzin’s the Island of Bornholm is certainly gothic but may not even have a troublesome corpse, never mind a vampire (and is deliberate in its obfuscation). There were four Pushkin poems included – ish. I say ish because The Bridegroom was included twice. A commentary explaining why the different translations were included would have been useful. More useful would have been an explanation why The Bridegroom (x2) and Evil Spirits were included as neither contains any hint of vampirism. At least Pushkin’s the Drowned Man has a troublesome corpse in it, though whether it was a vampire in the strictest sense of the word is highly debatable.

Pelevin’s A Werewolf Problem in Central Russia is fantastic – but has no vampire aspect (so why not an extract from his (currently untranslated) vampire novel Empire V?) Indeed why not two extracts (the vampire parts obviously) from the Probratim: A Slav Novel by Prof. P Jones (1895)? (If you are interested, my reference book, The Media Vampire, covers this work pp136-144!) Indeed why not an extract or the full text of Milovan Glišić’s Posle Devedeset Godina or 90 Years Later – unfortunately not available yet in English but based on pure Slavic vampire lore and the legend of Sava Savanović. The volume’s final section contained vampire lyrics in Russian popular music, which is fair enough if you want that sort of thing.

To be fair, the interesting sections were interesting, but the book has one more sin that needs to be recounted. It doesn’t have an index, so its academic use becomes further limited. In total honesty the book confounded my expectations as I expected a fresh reference work that explored the Slavic vampire rather than a regurgitation of other books, many of which I had. If you see it cheap you might want it, if you are in Garza’s classes then it expect it becomes much more useful but at full price it comes with a health warning. 5 out of 10.

Troublesome Corpses: Vampires & Revenants from Antiquity to the Present – review

Author: David Keyworth

First Published: 2007

The Blurb: Since earliest times man has feared troublesome corpses – the bodies of the dead which do not lie still and decompose, but rise again to revisit the living. European folklore is particularly rich in tales of vampires and reanimated cadavers. The Undead take many forms, as do precautions to avert an attack and methods of destruction should precautions fail.

What distinguishes vampires from other revenants? What metaphysical agencies empower the Undead and how do theological contortions help explain them? And why did popular belief in the existence of the undead wane during the eighteenth Century? These and other vampiric questions are addressed in David Keyworth’s encyclopaedic survey of troublesome corpses.

The Review: It is difficult to review this book without using words such as seminal, wonderful and necessary: so there you go, I got them out of the way.

Heyworth’s book explores the concept of corpses who just won’t stay still and the main question within the book is, “what is the difference between a vampire and the other types of undead?” This is not an etymological question and the simple answer seems to be blood. The vampire panics of the eighteenth century had revenants that were not only called ‘vampire’ for the first time (in print at least) but drank the blood of victims. Blood did come into earlier folklore but it was not as central as it was in the eighteenth century vampire reports/folklore.

To take us on this journey Keyworth takes us from Antiquity, through Medieval writing all the way to the Eighteenth century and beyond that, touching onto the twenty-first century. However, keep in mind that this is an exploration of the vampire of folklore, media vampires need not apply except in passing. I found the discussions around the revenants of medieval England and the Scandinavian draugrs particularly fascinating.

It has to be said, however, that the book is so much more than the above. It looks deeply into all aspects of the vampire reports and folklore with impressive referencing and useful indexing.This book has been either the source of, or has informed, several threads on the Facebook Vampire Lore and Legend page and is, in itself, invaluable to all students of the vampire. 10 out of 10.