Surely the only book about Dracula to include a reference to Larry Grayson - it's dedicated to 'Larry- don't ever shut that door'- and countless italicized plugs for Seagram's 100 Pipers. The latter should of course tip you off to this being the work of James Moffatt writing as Etienne Aubin...a name derived from Moffatt's 1971 book 'Demo' where that surname is shared between heroic frenchman Rolande Aubin and his sexy daughter Nanette Aubin.
Originally promoted by New
English Library as if it were part of Robert Lory's Dracula book series,
Moffatt instead looks to have taken inspiration from the Hammer Dracula movies
of the period. The opening scene of a vampire being traced to its crypt and stake
being driven into its heart, cries out for a James Bernard musical
accompaniment. Only for Moffatt to then pick a fight with the film company,
with derogatory references to 'Christopher Lee making a bomb from having
plastic teeth inserted into the corners of his mouth. Pig's blood trickling
down the chin of some sexy, busty, non-acting dish as she frolics in the near
nude across an artificial stage forest'. Yes, what better way to integrate
yourself with the horror aficionados of the 1970s, than to piss all over Hammer
films. Still you have to hand it to Moffatt, Dracula and the Virgins of the
Undead is one of the all time great, attention grabbing horror titles, and one
he could have easily sold to Hammer's rivals like Amicus and Tigon...had he not
hated Jewish people so much.
Reading Dracula and the Virgins
of the Undead is an experience akin to a very drunk person trying to tell you a
scary story, despite being well past the stage of being able to string a
sentence together. A drunk's rendition of the plot here, would go something
like this "remember Maud who lived down the road, yeah well the priest had
to drive a stake through her heart because she'd become one of the virgins of
the undead. Anyway, I called up my friends, Douglas and Stafford, and told them
we needed to hunt down Count Dracula, because he's a right bastard in real
life. Then we decided that Dracula must be posing as an astrologer, but we
didn't know for sure, so me and Douglas we went to a stone circle, and got
distracted by this bird in light Levi trousers who had great looking knockers.
Oh and Douglas is a powerful warlock by the way, and he realized that I was
possessed, so he had Stafford burn a chest of drawers in my backyard, then I
wasn't possessed anymore. Then I got into an argument with Douglas, and he
pissed off, so I looked at my watch and it was 12:47am so I decided to hunt
Dracula myself, and I found him in a field, and said 'hey you' but he
completely ignored me. Anyway, pour another Seagram's 100 Pipers, we're both gonna
need it".
I'm unsure as to how I could be
so entertained by a book that stumbles around and ungainly falls on its arse
every time it tries to function as horror or tell an intelligible story.
Dracula and the Virgins of the Undead has the feel of an 'in-between marriages'
book. Moffatt's big theme towards the end of the book being whether the hero
should rush into a second marriage, his first having ended on a bitter note,
whether this will cramp his bachelor lifestyle, and most importantly how it will
effect his relationship with his cat. Until you've read it for yourself, you
wouldn't believe how much of this book is taken up by the man/feline
relationship...come for Dracula and the Virgins of the Undead, and stay for the
adventures of Whisk the cat. The big takeaway from the book being that- in
Moffatt's eyes- men and cats are much preferable company to women and vampires.
Whilst the other love of Moffatt's life, Seagram's 100 Pipers, receives such an
overkill of product placement here that the book would have been more
accurately titled The Seagramic Rites of Dracula. Speaking of which...in order
to trick the residents of Wiltshire and drink the blood of their womenfolk here
Dracula is hiding out under the cunning name of Mister La Dacru...'cause that'll
fool all those smart arses who saw through aliases like Dr. Acula and Alucard.
James Moffatt...thank you, and also fuck you. Dracula and the Virgins of the
Undead is the most fun you can have whilst having your intelligence insulted
over 124 pages.
No comments:
Post a Comment