Exploring the Mount Dracula phenomenon.
Whether you owe your sexual awakening to a foundation-caked Robert Pattinson or not, the vampire, as an element of folklore, has long maintained some erotic appeal. In fact, for fabled beings popularized centuries ago, the so-called “monsters” have earned themselves quite an impressive quantity of recent air time. Throughout the past decade, Twilight franchise aside, we saw the emergence of True Bloods, Vampire Diaries, countless Dracula reboots, the list goes on. And in every instance, the vampire has been portrayed as a notably sexy creature—Mount Dracula, if you will.
Why you ask? Well, there are many answers. For starters, throughout literary history, vampires have always been, well, horny. If you’ve paged through Bram Stoker’s 1897 Dracula, you know that the OG vampire fed, exclusively, on the blood of beautiful women. That theme of fetishism—of counter-culture kink—plays out throughout vampiric literature. It’s all about pursuit, intimacy, charged advances.
Moreover, you could describe the quintessential vampire as some kind of blood-sucking James Dean. They’re classic bad boys—they break the rules. While famously attractive (as a way of luring in beautiful women filled with particularly tasty blood), vampires have, for time immemorial, been handsome as hell. But beyond their inherent good looks, they’re outlaws. They’re living on the wrong side of the rules. They’re troubled, cursed, afflicted, and thus, never boring. They’re the hot drug dealer from your 10th-grade geometry class...but prettier.
Technically, vampires are also immortal—which certainly bolsters their appeal as protectors. While dangerous in their own right, your classic vampire need not fear anything else on this earth which is, well, hot.
Additionally, the sultry vampire bit may have something to do with the classic reform or rescue fantasy. There is a famous appeal, especially amongst women, to the tradition of “bettering” a partner. In vampire folklore, when a vampire and a mere mortal pursue a relationship, the mortal is responsible for aiding the vampire in altering their very nature. The romantic interest in question is responsible for training the vampire out of his dangerous, natural inclinations.
And, last but not least, folks have made the case that the vampire’s allure lies in its mystery. Neither human nor monster, alive nor dead, fully bad nor righteously good, they represent this enticing, attractive iteration of unknowable middle ground. They can never be rote, boring, rendered unsexy because they will always be riddled with mysterious otherness.
Alternatively, maybe it’s just a Pattinson thing.
