Bram Stoker's Dracula, a cornerstone of Gothic literature, transcends its genre as a mere horror narrative, revealing itself as a profound cultural artifact deeply embedded within a broader literary and politico-geographic endeavor. This endeavor, spanning eighteenth- and nineteenth-century travel literature, Enlightenment philosophy, and the Gothic novel itself, meticulously constructed a distinct difference between Eastern and Western Europe. The novel's very structure, heavily reliant on journal entries and letters from abroad, consciously echoes the popular travelogues of the era. These travel narratives were not simply descriptive accounts; they functioned as powerful instruments in shaping Western perceptions of foreign lands and their inhabitants, often serving to reinforce a sense of Western identity and superiority.
Indeed, during the period of Dracula's genesis, regions such as Romania, while never formally colonized, were frequently treated as if they were by dominant British and other European powers, fostering a quasi-colonial relationship that positioned Eastern Europe as a territory to be understood, categorized, and ultimately, subjected to Western authority. A pervasive anxiety underlying the novel’s narrative reflects a profound fear of "reverse colonialism," an apprehension that the "Other" might infiltrate and contaminate the perceived purity of Western civilization, particularly its "pure Anglo-Saxon blood". Dracula's vampirism, in this context, becomes a potent metaphor for a "plague from Eastern Europe that must be prevented," embodying this deep-seated xenophobic dread.
The deliberate imitation of travel literature in Dracula thus becomes a key mechanism for its Orientalist portrayal. Western authors, through such narratives, did not merely describe Eastern Europe; they actively fashioned an "imaginary geography" that served to reinforce Western identity and superiority, rather than engaging with the region's true complexity. This is starkly evident in the narrative's design, where Jonathan Harker, the novel's protagonist, travels through the countryside during the day but is made to arrive at cities only at night, thereby intentionally precluding any opportunity for him to describe them as civilized or modern. This strategic omission of reality for narrative effect is a prime example of how the West actively invented a version of Eastern Europe that reinforced its self-image of advancement and enlightenment. This Orientalist portrayal in Dracula may have contributed to and continues to influence contemporary perceptions of Eastern Europe, perpetuating stereotypes and power dynamics related to the region.
To fully grasp the intricate layers of Stoker's portrayal, one must turn to Edward Said's seminal work, Orientalism. Said's critical concept describes the Western world's often condescending and distorted depiction of the Eastern world, arguing that this "Orientalism" is intrinsically linked to the imperialist societies that generated it, thereby rendering much Orientalist scholarship inherently political and subservient to power. At its philosophical core, Orientalism represents a "style of thought based upon an ontological and epistemological distinction made between 'the Orient' and (most of the time) 'the Occident'". This fundamental division inherently asserts the supremacy of the Occident and the inferiority of the Orient.
Central to Said's framework is the concept of the "Other": Europe, in its endeavor to construct its self-image, fabricated the Middle East, the 'Orient,' as its ultimate "other" or "alter ego". This binary opposition rigidly positions the West as rational and superior, while consigning the East to the realm of the aberrant and inferior. Orientalism operates not merely as an academic field, but as a "corporate institution for dealing with the Orient" and, more profoundly, as "a Western style for dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the Orient". It posits the 'Orient' as static, immutable, and incapable of self-definition, thereby legitimizing Western representation and exploitation. This process heavily relies on "essentialism," the attribution of fixed, unchangeable, and inferior qualities to "Orientals". Such "knowledge" about the East, Said contends, is often derived from "imagined constructs" rather than empirical facts, serving to justify colonial and imperial ambitions. Said unequivocally views such essentialist perspectives as a form of racism.
This adaptation acknowledges that Eastern Europe, despite its geographical location within the European continent, has been culturally constructed as an 'Other within'. Unlike the 'Orient,' which functions as Europe's absolute polar opposite, the Balkans, for instance, occupy an 'interstitial position of being neither here nor there'. This 'intimate estrangement' signifies a unique form of internal colonialism and subordination within Europe itself, where the region serves as a 'repository of negative characteristics upon which a positive and self-congratulatory image of the 'European' has been built'.
This nuanced application of the theoretical lens highlights how Eastern Europe experiences "othering" despite its European geography, and how this "othering" can manifest distinctly, often through ideological rather than purely racial distinctions. This deepens the analytical power of the report by demonstrating an awareness of the specific academic debates surrounding the application of Orientalism beyond its original scope.
Stoker's construction of Transylvania within Dracula immediately establishes it as a realm of alterity, portraying it as a 'dark forbidding unmapped forest' and 'the land beyond the forest,' strategically positioned on the border between the 'civilised modern west and the superstitious old east'. This geographical framing is far from neutral; it is an active construction that sets the stage for a narrative of profound difference and latent threat. The novel's narrative deliberately obscures any signs of modernity in Eastern European cities. Jonathan Harker's journey is meticulously structured so that he traverses the countryside by day but arrives at urban centers only at night, thereby precluding any opportunity for him to describe them as equally civilized as their Western counterparts.
For example, Bistritz, a thriving modern town at the time, is presented solely through the limited perspective of a 'superstitious peasant' innkeeper. This intentional misrepresentation reinforces the Western narrative of Eastern Europe's inherent backwardness and lack of advancement. The way Stoker constructs the Transylvanian landscape and its towns is not merely descriptive but actively contributes to the 'imaginary geography' of the 'Orient'. By selectively presenting only the 'primitive' aspects and intentionally obscuring any signs of modernity, Stoker reinforces the Western narrative that defines Eastern Europe as inherently underdeveloped and exotic. This serves to justify the Western gaze as one of superiority and enlightenment, looking upon a less evolved region.
Beyond the landscape, the characters themselves become embodiments of these constructed stereotypes. Throughout the novel, Romanian and Transylvanian characters are consistently depicted as profoundly superstitious, a stark contrast to the supposedly rational and enlightened English protagonists. This aligns perfectly with the prevalent 19th-century Western travelogues that characterized Balkan peoples by "barbarism and primitiveness," viewing their way of life as an "antiquated life form" and attributing to them "moral inferiority". Stoker's portrayal extends to specific ethnic groups within Transylvania. Slovaks, for instance, are depicted in a particularly unflattering light, described as "more barbarian than the rest," with "big cowboy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers," and appearing like an "old Oriental band of brigands". While noted as "picturesque," they are simultaneously deemed "not prepossessing" and "wanting in natural self-assertion," serving primarily as "elements of the scenery".
Gypsies, though a smaller minority within Transylvania's diverse population, are reduced to "despicable hirelings of the Count," reinforcing existing stereotypes of their villainy and contributing to the overall strangeness attributed to the region. Their role is primarily to "reinforce both the villainy of Dracula and the strangeness of Transylvania more generally". A striking aspect of Stoker's "othering" is the near absence of Romanians, also known as Wallachs, despite their being the majority population in Transylvania according to Stoker's sources. Instead, Stoker chooses to make Dracula a Hungarian-speaking Székler, explaining that his vampire needed to be an aristocrat, and Romanians were not among Transylvania's nobility. This selective representation, highlighting certain "races" while essentially excluding the majority, demonstrates how the Western author controls and manipulates the "whirlpool of European races" to fit a preconceived narrative.
The "othering" within Dracula is not a monolithic process but operates intersectionally, layered with classism and racialized anxieties. The novel reveals that English lower-class characters are just as superstitious as Romanians, and that Romanians, lower classes, and even a Jewish character must be bribed for the main characters to make progress. This implies a broader hierarchy of "otherness" where perceived "foreignness" or lower social standing leads to similar treatment. The explicit fear of "pollution of pure Anglo-Saxon blood" suggests a deeper xenophobia that transcends mere cultural difference, extending to a concern for biological or racial purity. The specific portrayal of Gypsies as "despicable hirelings" further illustrates how particular minority groups within Eastern Europe were subjected to intensified marginalization and negative stereotyping, serving to reinforce the overall "villainy" or "strangeness" attributed to the region.
Count Dracula himself embodies the ultimate Orientalized "Other." He is presented as a "feudal relic," a figure of ancient, untamed power from a vaguely defined "oriental part of an eastern country". His vampirism is explicitly framed as a "plague from Eastern Europe that must be prevented," directly linking him to the pervasive fear of "pollution of pure Anglo-Saxon blood by foreigners" and the broader anxieties of "reverse colonialism". He is the personification of the "Orient" to be feared, controlled, and ultimately, dominated.
Yet, despite Stoker's clear efforts to present Western civilization as "technologically advanced and, therefore, superior" to Eastern Europe, the novel paradoxically reveals the limitations of this perceived superiority. It is not Western science or modern technology that ultimately defeats Dracula. Instead, the narrative explicitly shows that "superstitious practices," such as using Catholic crosses, holy water, and Eucharistic wafers, are the only effective means to overcome the vampire. The novel can be deconstructed to demonstrate that the "superstitious peasants" of Transylvania, like the innkeeper who warns Harker, are in fact "wiser than the English characters". In Stoker's fictional world, vampires are real, and the local people's long-standing dealings with them have equipped them with practical, albeit "superstitious," knowledge that the rational, scientific West foolishly dismisses.
This is a critical point where Dracula transcends being a mere perpetuator of stereotypes and actively challenges the very framework of Western rationalism and scientific dominance that Orientalism often champions. The novel, while initially framing Eastern European "superstition" as a sign of backwardness, ultimately validates it as the sole effective defense against the supernatural threat. This subtly undermines the presumed Western superiority, suggesting that the "primitive" knowledge of the "Other" holds a truth and efficacy that the "enlightened" West has either forgotten or arrogantly dismissed. This profound paradox is a key reason for Dracula's enduring power and its status as a masterpiece, as it forces a re-evaluation of the very binaries it initially establishes.
The historical "orientalization" of Eastern Europe, where Western intellectuals of the Enlightenment defined their civilization in terms of the semi-Oriental backwardness of Eastern Europe, has persisted and evolved into contemporary forms. Researchers now term this phenomenon "new orientalism," which, while rooted in Edward Said's original concept, describes "otherness" from an ideological rather than purely cultural or racial viewpoint. This modern iteration often differentiates countries based on their "adjustment to the free market and democracy," criteria frequently determined by powerful Western actors. This leads to "Eastern Europeanism," a specific prejudice that conjures an image of the region as "desperate, distressed, exploited by a corrupt elite," with populations perceived as "demoralised" and innately prone to supporting autocratic governments, and often characterized as "anti-semite, islamophobic, homophobic and racists".
This effectively positions Eastern Europe as the direct opposite of the idealized West. The persistence of Eastern European stereotypes is not merely a cultural hangover but is deeply embedded in and perpetuated by ongoing geopolitical and economic power imbalances. "New orientalism" adapts older prejudices to new ideological justifications, such as financial and political "backwardness," rather than solely cultural or racial ones. This serves to maintain a hierarchical structure within Europe, justifying policies like the exploitation of Eastern European labor as a "reservoir of cheap labour" and contributing to the "fortification of Europe's borders" by restricting the mobility of racialized "Others". The stereotypes thus function as a tool for Western control and self-affirmation, demonstrating the adaptability of the "othering" process to changing global contexts.
Eastern Europeans continue to be "distinctively, yet ambiguously racialised," often inferiorized within Europe despite being positioned within global categories of "Europeanness". They are frequently imagined as "a lesser breed, carriers of disease, specifically skilled manual workers, a strain on public services, and criminal tricksters". Contemporary Western media consistently reduces Slavic and Eastern European people to damaging, simplistic caricatures, portraying them as barbaric, emotionless, and cold-blooded. Specific gendered stereotypes persist: Eastern European women are often hyper-sexualized "exotic" models, prostitutes, "sugar babies," or "shallow gold diggers." In contrast, older women are cast as "mysterious psychics" or "conservative maids". Eastern European men are typically depicted as criminals, spies, or low-wage laborers "chugging vodka and chain-smoking" with thick accents.
There is a pervasive "lazy shorthand" in Western media that lumps diverse cultures, such as Russians, Ukrainians, Poles, Romanians, and Lithuanians, into one undifferentiated "Slavic" or "Eastern European" type, effectively erasing their distinct identities. Examples abound in popular culture, from "war criminal" exchange students in television shows like Community to "evil Russian" villains in professional wrestling. Even in supposedly "politically correct" film industries, these reductive portrayals, as seen in Borat or Emily in Paris, are tolerated and prevalent. The "new orientalism" is also disseminated through visual media, with photography projects fetishizing the "ruins of a 'long-lost' world" in Eastern Europe, depicting socialist architecture as "otherworldly," "strange," or "alien", contributing to the genre of "ruin porn". Memes, even those that are "self-orientalising," perpetuate these images for a broad international audience.
A profound consequence of this persistent Western gaze is the phenomenon of "self-orientalising," where Eastern Europeans themselves adopt and reproduce the orientalist stereotypes about their own culture.
This is evident in popular online content like "Squatting Slavs In Tracksuits" memes. This internalization represents a form of "internal colonialism", where the "Other" begins to view their own culture through the distorted lens imposed by the "Self." This highlights the profound psychological and cultural impact of the Orientalist gaze, perpetuating inequality and a distorted cultural identity. These deeply entrenched stereotypes are rooted in historical power imbalances and societal prejudices. They contribute to "xenoracism," a form of discrimination where Eastern Europeans, despite often being racially white, still face prejudice and marginalization in Western societies. The historical "double hegemony" of Western colonial interest and Russian dominance has profoundly shaped Eastern Europe's identity and Western perceptions, often denying Eastern Europeans "autonomous agency" and portraying their attempts at modernity as "artificial and unnatural". A significant reason for the persistence of these stereotypes is that society has not actively tried to eradicate them as strenuously as it has for other vulnerable groups. This allows for the continued use of "lazy shorthand" and sustains a "vacuum of understanding" about the diverse realities of Eastern European cultures.
While Bram Stoker's Dracula undeniably utilizes and reinforces many prevalent 19th-century Western stereotypes of Eastern Europe, depicting Transylvania as economically backward, its people as inherently superstitious, and its aristocratic figure as a threatening, ancient "Other" its enduring power and status as a masterpiece stem from its complex, often contradictory, engagement with these very themes. The novel's subtle yet profound subversion of Western scientific and rational superiority by validating Eastern "superstition" is a critical challenge to the Orientalist binary. By demonstrating that the "primitive" knowledge dismissed by the West holds vital truths necessary for survival against the supernatural, Dracula suggests a wisdom in the "Other" that the "enlightened" West has either lost or arrogantly ignored.
This central paradox is what elevates Dracula beyond a mere reflection of its era's prejudices. The novel is not simply a product of Orientalist thought but a text that, perhaps even inadvertently, offers a powerful critique of its underlying assumptions. By showing the efficacy of the "Other's" ways and the failure of the "Self's" presumed superiority, Dracula complicates the straightforward narrative of Western dominance and Eastern inferiority. This inherent tension and re-evaluation of established binaries make the novel a more profound and enduring commentary on cultural arrogance and the limits of Western understanding, cementing its status as a masterpiece.
The narrative, while initially presenting the "Other" as fearsome and alien, implicitly questions the absolute authority and completeness of the Western perspective. It forces readers to confront the limitations of their own "civilized" understanding and to consider that what is deemed "backward" might possess a deeper, more effective form of knowledge. Dracula taps into deep-seated and timeless Western anxieties about the unknown, the foreign, and the perceived threat of the "Other" encroaching upon the "Self". The pervasive fear of "reverse colonialism" and the "pollution of pure Anglo-Saxon blood" resonate with enduring xenophobic impulses that transcend the Victorian era. The novel's remarkable ability to encapsulate and then subtly interrogate these anxieties, presenting a world where the lines between "civilized" and "barbaric," "rational" and "superstitious" are blurred, makes it a powerful and enduring cultural artifact.
Its continued relevance in reflecting persistent stereotypes about Eastern Europe, even centuries after its publication, underscores its foundational role in shaping and reflecting the Western gaze. The fact that contemporary "new orientalism" continues to echo the themes and anxieties present in Dracula speaks to the novel's profound insight into the mechanisms of "othering" and its lasting impact on cultural perceptions. Ultimately, Dracula's genius lies not in its creation or simple perpetuation of Eastern European stereotypes, but in its dynamic and often contradictory interplay with them. It functions as both a mirror, reflecting the deep-seated prejudices and anxieties of its Victorian era, and a window, subtly hinting at the inherent flaws of those prejudices and the limitations of a purely Western-centric perspective. By engaging with these complex themes of cultural difference, power dynamics, and the construction of identity, and by implicitly challenging the very binaries it initially presents, Dracula transcends its genre to become a profound and enduring commentary on the human condition and the persistent, often uncomfortable, relationship between the "Self" and the "
Other."
Add comment
Comments