Journal of Dracula Studies 14 (2012)
[Jennifer Miles recently received her M.A. in English
from the University
of Louisville
Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) has been analyzed from multiple perspectives, with
the role of science in the novel receiving a good deal of attention, especially
the issue of evolution and fears about degeneration. For instance, Victorian studies scholar Carol
Senf has examined the theme of scientific control in Dracula, arguing that fears about scientific classification and
evolution echo throughout the text[1]. Scholars have also examined the emphasis
Stoker places upon scientific technology, shown through the characters’ use of
then cutting-edge tools like blood transfusions[2]. However, scholars have rarely touched upon
the medical issues Dracula raises. Perhaps one of the most interesting
underlying themes in the novel concerns animal research in the late nineteenth
century. This article aims to show how Dracula depicts the dark side of animal
vivisection, first illustrating how the characters of Dr. Seward and Dr. Van
Helsing resemble typical nineteenth-century vivisection researchers, then
reading these characters’ staking of Lucy Westenra as analogous to a
vivisection. Through the
characterization and staking, one may see the novel taking an
anti-vivisectionist stance, depicting the cruelty the practice inflicted upon
animals and warning that animal research may start society down a slippery
slope toward medical experimentation on humans.
Beginning in the 1870s, a sharp rise in the
number of animal vivisections performed in Britain
Though Bram Stoker was not a researcher
with a stake in the debate, his brother Thornley was. Thornley worked as a surgeon, a chair of
anatomy at the School of the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland, and an
inspector of vivisection for Ireland under the 1876 Cruelty to Animals Act
(“Obituary”). The act mandated the use
of anesthesia for some experimental procedures and put restrictions on when
higher mammals such as dogs and horses could be used as research subjects
(“Cruelty to Animals”). Thornley would
have been responsible for inspecting vivisection laboratories for compliance to
these mandates (“Cruelty to Animals”), which made him well informed about
vivisection and the controversies surrounding it. Since Stoker had a close relationship with
Thornley, even consulting him about scientific information included in Dracula, Stoker would probably also have
heard his brother speak of his experience as a vivisection inspector. One may conclude that Thornley’s information
might have inspired certain passages in Dracula.
Dracula does explicitly reference
vivisection. The most notable reference
occurs in Dr. Jonathan Seward’s phonographic diary and paints Seward as a
vivisection advocate. As Seward contemplates
diving into ethically dubious territory by using his patient Renfield as a
psychological experiment, he justifies this course of action by stating, “It
might be done if only there was a sufficient cause. Men sneered at vivisection, and look at the
results today!” (71). Seward’s argument
that an experiment with potential to harm the subject is permissible if it
benefits larger society was a common defense for vivisection experiments at the
time, showing that Seward shares the researchers’ mindset (Mayer 400; Richards
50-51). He also explicitly lauds
vivisection’s results, dismissing the anti-vivisectionists who “sneered” at the
experiments (Stoker 71).
The scene also more subtly references the
vivisection debate through the scientists Seward mentions, who are all
pro-vivisection. He imagines that a
breakthrough in brain knowledge would “advance [his] own branch of science to a
pitch compared with which Burdon-Sanderson’s physiology or Ferrier’s
brain-knowledge would be as nothing” (Stoker 71). What Seward fails to mention is that his
idols, Sir John Burdon-Sanderson and David Ferrier, both came under fire in the
late nineteenth century for their use of vivisection. Burdon-Sanderson, one of several authors of
the Handbook for the Physiological
Laboratory, was accused of mistreating animal subjects by withholding
anesthesia during painful experiments (Richards 41). Though his section of the Handbook sometimes encouraged the use of
anesthetics, the book contained “extraordinary inconsistencies, anesthesia
being specified for a rabbit but ignored for the dog (271)” (Richards 41). Sanderson claimed that he assumed students
using the book would be supervised by teachers who would instruct them to use
anesthesia, so he omitted instructions to administer the medication, a claim
many doubted (Richards 43-44).
Ferrier, a British physiologist, was a
vivisectionist who was tried for violating the 1876 Cruelty to Animals
Act. Despite not holding a research
license, Ferrier had been present and possibly assisted at a monkey’s
vivisection (Farmer 16). Though he was
later acquitted after claiming he did not participate in dissecting the
monkey’s brain, the case became well-known and “infuriated his opponents
[anti-vivisectionists], who came finally to realize with the verdict that the
Act of 1876 could be ignored with relative impunity” (Farmer 16). Seward
glosses over Ferrier’s and Burdon-Sanderson’s ethical shortcomings, however,
and portrays both these vivisection advocates in positive terms. Sanderson and Ferrier are standards against
which Seward measures his own achievements; he must therefore feel their
research has been extraordinarily beneficial.
Seward likewise ignores the fact that the two men were widely criticized
for their inhumane experiments, hinting that perhaps his enthusiasm for science
has blinded him to vivisection’s cruelty, a theme which will resonate in later
scenes in the novel.
Furthermore, the book’s portrayal of Seward
as the protégé of a researcher from continental Europe associates Seward with
vivisection researchers. Though vivisection only rose to prominence in Britain
in the late eighteen hundreds, it had been a scientific method on the Continent
for quite some time, where “fundamental advances were being made by this
method, first in France, and then in Germany” (Richards 28). In discussing Burdon-Sanderson’s section of
the Handbook, Richards lists many
well-known physiological researchers from the Continent, stating, “On page
after page we find accounts of classical experimental procedures from the
laboratories of such pioneers as Bernard, Brucke, Du Bois Reymond,
Brown-Sequard, Fick … [and several other researchers from mainland Europe]”
(37). Young scientists in Britain based
their work on these men’s groundbreaking research (Richards 37). Likewise, Seward looks to the Dutch Dr. Van
Helsing to teach him about medicine, science, and later, vampirism. Van Helsing’s nationality is one of the first
bits of information we learn about the doctor.
Seward tells Arthur Holmwood, “I have written to my old friend and
master, Professor Van Helsing, of Amsterdam, who knows as much about obscure
diseases as anyone in the world” (Stoker 105).
The novel further emphasizes Van Helsing’s nationality each time he
speaks through his foreign speech patterns and overly formal diction. Van Helsing’s foreign background, combined
with his medical expertise and role as the Crew of Light’s leader, thrusts him
into the role of experimental medicine expert.
Finally, Van Helsing and Seward’s emotional
detachment is typical for vivisection researchers. Van Helsing is portrayed as even more
emotionally detached than his medical colleagues who are not shown to be
researchers. For instance, when he takes
Seward to visit Lucy’s victim in the hospital, Van Helsing distances himself
from the boy, calling the child “it” (Stoker 174). His medical colleague on the ward is much
more affectionate and refers to the boy as “he” and by endearing pet names such
as “the poor little mite” (Stoker 174). Likewise, the book hints that Seward
does not become emotionally involved with his work, for when he becomes upset
at the idea of beheading Lucy the vampire, Van Helsing admonishes him,
“Ah! You a surgeon and so shocked! You, whom I have seen with no tremble of hand
or heart, do operations of life and death that make the rest shudder” (Stoker
149). Here, Van Helsing judges Seward’s
emotional reaction as out of character.
In this way, both resemble the ideal
physiologist that lauded vivisection researcher Claude Bernard described: “No
anatomist feels himself in a horrible slaughter house; under the influence of a
scientific idea, he delightedly follows a nervous filament through stinking,
livid flesh which to any other man would be an object of disgust and horror”
(207). Van Helsing’s assertion that Seward can do procedures “that make the
rest shudder” parallels Bernard’s statement that physiologists must perform
operations that are “object[s] of disgust and horror” to laymen. Furthermore, Bernard’s declaration that
scientists should not only repress negative emotions but take pleasure in
performing procedures others find ghastly calls to mind a passage from Seward’s
diary about preparing for Lucy’s staking.
As the group watches Van Helsing remove knives and a stake from his bag,
Seward thinks, “To me, a doctor’s preparations for work of any kind are
stimulating and bracing, but the effect of these things on both Arthur and
Quincey was to cause them a sort of consternation” (Stoker 190). Seward is de-sensitized to the pain
operations cause and eager to get to work, in contrast to his friends’
apprehension. This de-sensitization makes Seward appear abnormal and even
cruel, which does not reflect well on his role as a representative of medical
research.
Considering the novel’s doctors as vivisection
researchers allows one to re-read the scene of Lucy’s staking as analogous to a
vivisection. The scene makes Bernard’s
allusions to working in a “horrible slaughter house” with “stinking livid
flesh” literal, offering a tomb full of bodies as a backdrop for the action.
Though Lucy’s staking has often been interpreted as sexual in nature[3],
it shares features in common with vivisection as well. As literary critic William Hughes notes, from
the beginning, the physicians think of the staking in terms of a medical
procedure (164-165). Consider this
excerpt from Seward’s diary, a transcript of a conversation with Van Helsing:
VAN HELSING: “Tomorrow I want you to bring
me, before night, a set of post-mortem knives.”
SEWARD:
“Must we make an autopsy?”
VAN
HELSING: “Yes, and no. I want to
operate, but not as you think.” (Stoker 149).
Afterwards, Van Helsing re-iterates that he “shall
operate” upon Lucy (Stoker 149). The
procedure does resemble an operation in some respects: Lucy appears
unconscious, lying upon a raised surface; two esteemed physicians are in
attendance; surgical tools, including Van Helsing’s “post-mortem knives” are
used. However, as the staking begins,
Van Helsing’s implication that this is a new form of operation makes
sense. In contrast to a typical
operation, the patient is alive and awake (Stoker 192). In this sense, Lucy has much in common with
the un-anesthetized animals vivisected in the name of science, one of several
similarities to a vivisection throughout the scene. These similarities show how
vivisection negatively affects all parties involved, especially the medical
students and animal test subjects; ultimately the scene hints that vivisection
could have unexpected consequences for the British public as well.
Lucy’s staking has an audience composed of
experienced medical researchers and men with little medical experience, as
vivisections often did. This allows for
the scene to show the effects of the practice on students entering medicine. Though the Cruelty to Animals Act restricted
when teachers could use vivisection experiments to illustrate anatomy and
physiology concepts in class, students were still allowed and encouraged to
participate in real research experiments (“Cruelty to Animals”). Dr. George Hoggan, a former assistant in
Claude Bernard’s physiology laboratory, speaks of the pressure placed upon
students to conform to scientific norms and accept vivisection’s horrors. He writes, “No student can be expected to
come forward as a witness when he knows that he would be hooted, mobbed, and
expelled from among his fellows for doing so, and any rising medical man would
only achieve professional ruin by following a similar course” (Hoggan
339). Students were placed in an impossible
position, as refusing to accept experimentation’s role in science would result
in ostracization, but not everyone felt comfortable performing such grisly
procedures.
Arthur Holmwood, as an outsider with no
previous knowledge about either medicine or vampirism, finds himself in a
similar situation in the text. Though
Van Helsing originally declared he would perform the operation himself, he
pressures Arthur into staking Lucy, saying
“But is there none amongst us who has a
better right? Will it be no joy to think
of hereafter in the silence of the night when sleep is not: ‘It was my hand
that sent her to the stars; it was the hand of him that loved her best; the
hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been her to
choose?’ Tell me if there be such a one
amongst us?” (191)
Though ostensibly Arthur has a choice in whether to
volunteer, in reality he has no option, much like the medical students
mentioned above. Van Helsing’s questions
are clearly rhetorical, and he portrays the procedure as beneficial to the
public health, just as medical students were told experimental procedures would
add to the public good. In this case, if Lucy remains alive, Van Helsing warns
she will continue infecting others “adding new victims and multiplying the
evils of the world” (Stoker 190). If Arthur
chooses not to perform the staking, he may be criticized for failing to protect
his homeland and socially shunned like the students Hoggan describes. Arthur may also fear the other men will think
him weak, since Van Helsing shows no fear about taking up the stake.
The novel shows that the procedure itself
negatively affects Arthur, both emotionally and physically. Van Helsing’s
discussion with Arthur, taken out of context, could easily be mistaken as an
encouraging speech to a new scientist before a grisly vivisection. He prepares Arthur for what he will see,
saying, “‘Brave lad! A moment’s courage,
and it is done. ... It will be a fearful ordeal – be not deceived in that – but
it will be only for a short time, and you will then rejoice more that your pain
was great; from this grim tomb you will emerge as though you tread on air’”
(Stoker 191). Van Helsing’s word choice
here – “brave,” “courage,” “fearful ordeal” – admits the procedure is
unpleasant, but he again emphasizes its positive effects and reassures Arthur
that he will not regret performing the staking. Van Helsing obviously fears
that the procedure would shock a layman – which it does, as Arthur’s “face was
as pale as snow” (Stoker 191). Though he courageously carries out the
procedure, “never falter[ing],” afterwards Arthur almost faints (Stoker
192). Seward writes, “The great drops of
sweat sprang out on his forehead, and his breath came in broken gasps. It had indeed been a great strain on him; and
had he not been forced to his task by more than human considerations, he never
would have gone through with it” (Stoker 192).
Seward confirms that the procedure took a toll on Arthur and that his
friend did not desire to endure such a task in the first place. One may conclude that many vivisection
students suffered similar fates after experiments and wished that they had not
been pushed to participate.
The staking shows that vivisections were
likewise cruel to the animals being used because it argues that animals felt
great pain during the procedures. To do
this, the novel repeatedly encourages readers to view the vampires as
animals. For instance, as the staking
occurs, Seward depicts Lucy’s state as similar to a frenzied animal “champing”
at the bit (Stoker 192). Seward
continues stripping Lucy of her humanity throughout her staking, calling her
“the Thing in the coffin” and again “the foul Thing” (Stoker 192). Comparing Lucy to an animal may help Seward
emotionally distance himself from his friend, giving him courage to witness the
staking. However, the animal references
have a deeper significance because they are repeated throughout the novel and
attached to other vampire characters.
For instance, scholar Carol Senf points out that in an earlier meeting
at the graveyard, Seward says Lucy “drew back with an angry snarl, such as a
cat gives when taken unawares” (Senf 82; Stoker 188). She also hunches over her child victim
“growling over it as a dog growls over a bone” (Senf 82; Stoker 188). Senf notes that Stoker draws attention to all
the vampires’ inhuman qualities, writing of Dracula that there was something
“so panther-like in the movement – something so inhuman” and that his “evil
smile as quickly passed into a cold stare of lion-like disdain” (Senf 83;
Stoker 266). These repeated comparisons
show that Stoker’s vampires are very much animalistic, though they retain their
human appearance.
In comparing vampires to animals, Stoker
implicitly enters the discussion between researchers and animal activists about
the extent of animal emotions. Some vivisectionists insisted that animals did
not feel the same emotional impulses as humans (Mayer 403). Jed Mayer, a scholar specializing in the role
of the nonhuman animal in Victorian society, relates that a “kind of
hermeneutics of suspicion regarding the interpretation of nonhuman emotions”
developed around vivisections (Mayer 403).
Scientists insisted that what people took to be cries of suffering
actually were not indicating pain (Mayer 403).
Here, Stoker’s description sides with the anti-vivisectionists. The previous scene at the cemetery where the
men confronted Lucy shows that even though she is no longer human, she still
communicates using the same language as her human counterparts – literally so,
as she speaks to them in English (Stoker 188).
Seward also indicates that he had no trouble reading Lucy’s emotions,
stating, “If ever a face meant death – if looks could kill – we saw it at that
moment” (Stoker 188). Since the novel
has already drawn a clear parallel between vampires and animals, this means
that Dracula encourages readers to
interpret animal emotions as they would human emotions. In other words, cries of pain really are
cries of pain.
The staking scene has no shortage of cries
of pain; Lucy is in pain verging on torture, clearly illustrating the agonizing
suffering animals endured during vivisections.
Dr. Seward notes, “The Thing in the coffin writhed; and a hideous,
blood-curdling screech came from the opened red lips. The body shook and quivered and twisted in
wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the lips were
cut, and the mouth was smeared with crimson blood” (Stoker 192). If one substitutes the phrase “on the
operating table” for “in the coffin,” the passage could easily describe a
painful vivisection. Dr. Seward’s
wording here leaves no room for error; words and phrases such as “writhed,”
“hideous, blood-curdling,” and “twisted in contortions” show that not only is
Lucy in a great deal of pain, but that the tableaux was gruesome to
observe. The scene sends the message
that vivisections were terrible for the animals involved.
Lucy’s immobility further coincides with
the conditions vivisected animals endured, showing the cruel way researchers
restrained animals in the laboratory.
Experimenters would often administer a medication called curare rather
than anesthesia for animals undergoing procedures (Richards 41). In his oft-reprinted letter to the Morning Post, anti-vivisectionist George
Hoggan decried such chemicals, writing, “An animal is sometimes kept quiet by
the administration of a poison called ‘droorara,’ which paralyses voluntary
motion…” (341). The animals could not
move, but still experienced pain (Hoggan 341).
The stake immobilizes Lucy in much the same way. True, Lucy has more range of motion than an
animal under curare’s effects, as her “body shook and quivered and twisted in
wild contortions,” but she appears unable to rise (Stoker 192). Here Stoker follows the folkloric tradition
that the stake immobilizes the vampire, rendering it unable to stand and escape
(fn. Auerbach and Skal 190). The stake
alone proves insufficient to kill the undead Lucy and merely acts as a
restraint (Stoker 193). Without the
stake, one may safely assume that Lucy would have fled the torture chamber, as
would many of the animals used for research.
Ultimately, the scene moves beyond arguing
that vivisection is cruel to animals or difficult for students. It offers readers a reason to care about
animal suffering: someday, humans may find themselves in Lucy’s position. Though the men would loathe to admit it, Lucy
still looks human – she is not, in fact, wholly different from the woman they
knew. Whatever cravings she may have
developed for human blood and lascivious behavior, she still lives in a human
body. Lucy’s human appearance touches
upon a fear rampant among anti-vivisectionists: that experimental medicine may
one day be practiced not only on animals, but on humans as well, a fear which
permeates Dracula.
This fear was well-established at the
time. For instance, anti-vivisectionist
Lewis Carroll once warned that
accepting animal experimentation would set Britain on a slippery slope to
allowing medical experimentation on defenseless human populations. He writes about
“…the possible advent of a day when anatomy
shall claim, as legitimate subjects for experiment, first, our condemned
criminals – next, perhaps, the inmates of our refuges for incurables – then the
hopeless lunatic, the pauper hospital-patient, and generally ‘ him that hath no
helper,’ – a day when successive generations of students, trained from their
earliest years to the repression of all human sympathies, shall have developed
a new and more hideous Frankenstein – a soulless being to whom science shall be
all in all” (Carroll 854).
Dracula
implies a similar chain of
causality, not only through the staking of a vampire bearing a human face but
also through Seward’s work in the hospital.
The novel has already shown that one of the classes Carroll mentions –
“the hopeless lunatic” – is fair game for experimentation, though not yet
vivisection. Throughout the novel Seward uses his patient Renfield as a
research tool. Though The Cambridge
World History of Medical Ethics reports that physicians at the time had an
imperative to conduct research and add to the medical knowledge base, Seward
errs in letting his research come before Renfield’s health (Baker 447). On several occasions, Seward’s personal quest
for knowledge leads him to encourage Renfield’s mania. Once, Seward questions Renfield extensively,
but afterwards admits, “In my manner of doing it there was, I now see,
something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him on the point of madness
– a thing which I avoid with the patients…” (Stoker 61, emphasis added). Seward acknowledges that he has broken his
normal medical practice for his research goals, and in doing so he reinforced
Renfield’s mental illness instead of diminishing it. The last phrase hints that Renfield’s role as
research subject takes precedence over his condition as a patient, since Seward
treats him differently from the other inmates in the asylum.
Renfield’s death scene hints that the drive
for knowledge may lead researchers down the path to medical experimentation on
humans. The final operation Seward and Van
Helsing perform upon the madman has a key similarity to a medical experiment:
its sole purpose is to prolong Renfield’s life to give the doctors more
information. As Van Helsing prepares to
trephine Renfield’s skull he notes, “There is no time to lose. His words may be worth many lives; I have
been thinking so, as I stood here” (Stoker 243). Here, as in the vivisection experiments
discussed above, the goal is not to help the patient but to gather data that
will save other lives. The idea that he
should work to save Renfield, or that he has an ethical duty to a fellow human,
appears never to have crossed Van Helsing’s mind. Renfield’s insanity has rendered him an
inhuman “other” to the men. Furthermore,
the scene again bears a resemblance to a medical experiment in that the patient
is paralyzed (Seward notes that even attempting to turn his head causes
Renfield’s eyes to “grow glassy”) and observed by an audience of men (Stoker
242-243). Of course, like a vivisected
animal, Renfield dies shortly after the trephining, an event which the men do
not even stay around to witness (Stoker 246).
Thus, by
mid-novel Seward and Van Helsing have already used their power as medical
doctors to exploit not only the “hopeless lunatics” but those like Lucy who
“hath no helper.” Lucy’s plight would
have especially resonated with readers, as women were particular targets for
medical power during the Victorian era. Dracula was written when “new
legislation and policies were emerging which gave medical doctors themselves
unprecedented rights of physical intervention with women” (Scott 629, emphasis
in original). The Contagious Disease
Acts of 1864, 1866, and 1869 gave physicians huge amounts of power over women’s
health. The acts, which applied to
districts near military garrisons, forced women that police identified as
prostitutes to undergo internal examinations for venereal disease every two
weeks or face a jail sentence (Scott 633).
Women determined to be infected could be hospitalized against their will
for up to nine months (Scott 633). Of
course, women wished to avoid hospitalization at all costs, as a poor woman
receiving medical charity was treated “less [as] a patient than a subject for
study and research” as well as a learning tool for medical students (Lansbury
416). Under these laws, vulnerable
populations – “him that hath no helper,” as Carroll termed it – were at
physicians’ mercy.
Even wealthier
women at the time might be subjected to unnecessary medical interventions and
restraint. Coral Lansbury writes that
doctors might prescribe removing a woman’s healthy ovaries to alleviate
menstrual or psychological problems (418).
She states, “Blackwell and Kingsford [female physicians Elizabeth
Blackwell and Anna Kingsford] both saw such surgery as an extension of
vivisection, with doctors using women in place of dogs and cats” (418). Women were also regularly strapped “across
saddles and tables for the purposes of examination and operation” by
gynecologists, which many recognized as similar to the plight of animals
restrained for vivisections (Lansbury 421, 415). Victorian pornography likewise saw women as
animalistic (Lansbury 421). Pornographic
stories fetishized the restraint of women and spoke about them like animals,
particularly horses, as “women are made to ‘show their paces’ and ‘present
themselves’ at the command of the riding master who flogs and seduces them into
submission” (Lansbury 421). Because
Victorian medicine had already stripped women of their agency and
systematically treated them as less than human, it did not take a huge leap of
logic to imagine the legalization of human vivisection among women,
particularly lower class women. During
Lucy’s staking, Dracula reflects this fear of medical violence against
women, as men led by two physicians hold her down and carry out what they deem
to be necessary for public health.
One should also
note that though Van Helsing touts staking as the proper “cure” for vampirism,
only female vampires are staked, namely Lucy and the three females Van Helsing
encounters near Dracula’s castle. The
staking of the three women bears remarkable similarities to Lucy’s staking, as
they writhe in agony with “lips of bloody foam” (Stoker 320). The only male vampire, Dracula himself, is
not subjected to a prolonged death by staking, but is stabbed in the heart with
Morris’s bowie knife (Stoker 325). He dies quickly – Mina Harker notes that
Dracula turns to dust “almost in the drawing of a breath” – and without
evidence of pain (325). The fact that only female vampires are tortured with
the staking ritual provides further evidence that the practice represents
Victorian medical violence against women.
These fears
about medical ethics, particularly the ethics of vivisection and exploitation
of the weak, place Dracula within a tradition of late-nineteenth century
texts. For instance, H.G. Wells’ The
Island of Dr. Moreau, published the year before Dracula, shares
themes with Stoker’s novel. Notably, in Dr.
Moreau, the fear that vivisection may be applied to humans is explicitly
expressed, as the character of Edward Prendick mistakenly believes Dr. Moreau
is experimenting upon people; the monstrous results of Moreau’s attempts to
turn animals into human-like creatures also blur the line between human and
animal. Likewise, Wilkie Collins’
anti-vivisection text Heart and Science (1883) touches upon fears that
vivisection may be used upon humans and also illustrates how such experiments
were torturous for the animals involved.
Dracula’s warning that vivisection harms not only the animals
used, but also vulnerable human populations, carries on the tradition of these
earlier novels in expressing the general population’s concerns about scientific
practices. Taken as a whole, these works
capture the sense of fear and panic the surge in vivisection experiments
managed to create at the time, raising questions about morality in science that
are still applicable today.
Works Cited
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Boddice, Rob. “Vivisecting Major: A Victorian Scientist
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al. Handbook
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Lansbury, Coral. “Gynaecology, Pornography, and the
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Scott, Anne L. “Physical Purity Feminism and State Medicine
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Senf, Carol A. “For the Blood Is the Life: Dracula and
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1997. Print.
[1]See “For the Blood is the
Life: Dracula and Victorian Science”
published in Dracula: Between Tradition
and Modernism (1998).
[2]See Leann Page’s article
“Phonograph, Shorthand, Typewriter: High Performance Technologies in Bram
Stoker’s Dracula” or Carol Senf’s
book Science and Social Science in Bram
Stoker’s Fiction, especially pages 21-23.
[3]For example, see Christopher
Craft’s “Gender and Inversion in Dracula.”
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