Sixteen: "A Girl Named Mina"
Arguably Dracula's most important victim, and the only one who seems to fight back. A devoted wife, ending up with a circle of devoted followers. Religious and benevolent to the point she insists others pity Dracula himself--yet is herself seared by the touch of a holy wafer. Mina Harker (nee Murray) remains among the most commonly portrayed characters from the novel and the focus of most modern adaptations.
Not only modern ones. The 1920s (a period with disturbing parallels to our own) saw the first of what
ultimately proved many versions to have Mina herself destroy the vampire. In F.W.Murnau's Nosferatu she does so alone, without any advice or aid of any kind. Disturbingly, she does so via deliberate self-sacrifice, giving her own blood and life to save an entire city.
As written, the novel really has only two (maybe three) female characters of any note--Lucy and Mina. Lucy too often becomes the focus of what seems like all that is frail in womankind. Mina on the other hand comes across as her opposite, everything positive. An utterly devoted and obedient bride, for example, who fiercely protects her own with great (but modestly presented) skill, accepting men's devotion and totally unwarranted condescension.
Wee bit of a peek into Bram Stoker, in my opinion.
In recent decades this has changed quite a bit. In the popular musical as well as arguably the most important adaptation since Hammer's Horror of Dracula (maybe even the Lugosi version) graduates from helpless waif needing rescue to the actual slayer of Dracula himself, in both those cases said death blow delivered in pity and even love. No real complaints on that score! It proves a nicely faceted approach in many ways!
It has also become a cliche. Dracula's one true love (often his reincarnated bride) has been done so many times it makes me groan. Other versions interest me many times more, up to and including her portrayal in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (both film and graphic novel, the latter far superior in pretty much every way) or some stage versions, one of which explicitly portrayed her as trapped in a Victorian London which was no less a feminist dystopia than The Handmaid's Tale.
Apart from discarding the vampire and she falling in love, here seem to me the most fascinating building blocks for Mina in my adaptation: She and Lucy are best friends, despite their class differences. Mina fell in love with and was chosen by Jonathan Harker--a man pretty openly desired (in Stoker's original notes) by at least two other women. She travels across Europe without protect or escort, then handles evidence of her new husband's possible insanity with calm precision and patience. She felt genuine horror at the idea the Almighty might turn from her as "polluted" yet urged pity towards the creature who so polluted her. She also demonstrates considerable intelligence, imagination and a strong will as well as genuine courage throughout the tale.
I would argue--as many have--this helps make her one of the most fascinating and compelling people in the book, as well as giving us a strong clue as to Harker's true personality. Frankly, their marriage seems to me woefully under-explored. Some might accuse me of defining this interesting woman by her husband but my view is that I'm doing the opposite--defining her husband by the fact she chose to wed him. This works both ways of course, and opens up some powerful storytelling possibilities.
To be continued
Not only modern ones. The 1920s (a period with disturbing parallels to our own) saw the first of whatultimately proved many versions to have Mina herself destroy the vampire. In F.W.Murnau's Nosferatu she does so alone, without any advice or aid of any kind. Disturbingly, she does so via deliberate self-sacrifice, giving her own blood and life to save an entire city.
As written, the novel really has only two (maybe three) female characters of any note--Lucy and Mina. Lucy too often becomes the focus of what seems like all that is frail in womankind. Mina on the other hand comes across as her opposite, everything positive. An utterly devoted and obedient bride, for example, who fiercely protects her own with great (but modestly presented) skill, accepting men's devotion and totally unwarranted condescension.
In recent decades this has changed quite a bit. In the popular musical as well as arguably the most important adaptation since Hammer's Horror of Dracula (maybe even the Lugosi version) graduates from helpless waif needing rescue to the actual slayer of Dracula himself, in both those cases said death blow delivered in pity and even love. No real complaints on that score! It proves a nicely faceted approach in many ways!
It has also become a cliche. Dracula's one true love (often his reincarnated bride) has been done so many times it makes me groan. Other versions interest me many times more, up to and including her portrayal in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (both film and graphic novel, the latter far superior in pretty much every way) or some stage versions, one of which explicitly portrayed her as trapped in a Victorian London which was no less a feminist dystopia than The Handmaid's Tale.
I would argue--as many have--this helps make her one of the most fascinating and compelling people in the book, as well as giving us a strong clue as to Harker's true personality. Frankly, their marriage seems to me woefully under-explored. Some might accuse me of defining this interesting woman by her husband but my view is that I'm doing the opposite--defining her husband by the fact she chose to wed him. This works both ways of course, and opens up some powerful storytelling possibilities.
To be continued
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