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Dracula

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The punctured throat, the coffin lid slowly opening, the unholy shriek as the stake pierces the heart—these are just a few of the chilling images Bram Stoker unleashed upon the world with his 1897 masterpiece, Dracula. Inspired by the folk legend of nosferatu, the undead, Stoker created a timeless tale of gothic horror and romance that has enthralled and terrified readers ever since.

A true masterwork of storytelling, Dracula has transcended generation, language, and culture to ...

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Overview

The punctured throat, the coffin lid slowly opening, the unholy shriek as the stake pierces the heart—these are just a few of the chilling images Bram Stoker unleashed upon the world with his 1897 masterpiece, Dracula. Inspired by the folk legend of nosferatu, the undead, Stoker created a timeless tale of gothic horror and romance that has enthralled and terrified readers ever since.

A true masterwork of storytelling, Dracula has transcended generation, language, and culture to become one of the most popular novels ever written. It is a quintessential tale of suspense and horror, boasting one of the most terrifying characters ever born in literature: Count Dracula, a tragic, night-dwelling specter who feeds upon the blood of the living, and whose diabolical passions prey upon the innocent, the helpless, and the beautiful. But Dracula also stands as a bleak allegorical saga of an eternally cursed being whose nocturnal atrocities reflect the dark underside of the supremely moralistic age in which it was originally written — and the corrupt desires that continue to plague the modern human condition.

The Dracula mythology has inspired a vast subculture, but the story has never been better told than by Stoker.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

If it were not for his horror masterpiece Dracula, Abraham "Bram" Stoker (1847-1912) might be remembered today, if at all, only as a talented theatre manager and personal assistant. His novels, though numerous and published, are not polished literary productions; indeed, paradoxically, it is Dracula's cobbled together realism that makes this 1897 fiction so authentic and arresting. In this edition, that sense of vividness is redoubled by its accompanying illustrations by famed comic book and graphic novel artist Becky Cloonan (Conan The Barbarian; The Wolves). The rebirth of a vampire who continues to pursue us.

Tim Flannigan

1897 London Times reviewMonday August 23rd
DRACULA cannot be described as a domestic novel, nor its annals as those of a quiet life. The circumstances described are from the first peculiar. A young solicitor sent for on business by a client in Transylvania goes through some unusual experiences. He finds himself shut up in a half ruined castle with a host who is only seen at night and three beautiful females who have the misfortune of being vampires. Their intentions, which can hardly be described as honourable, are to suck his blood, in order to sustain their own vitality. Count Dracula (the host) is also a vampire but has grown tired of his compatriots, however young and beautiful, and has a great desire for what may literally be called fresh blood. He has therefore sent for the solicitor that through his means he may be introduced to London society. Without understanding the Count's views, Mr. Harker has good reason for having suspicions of his client. Wolves come at his command, and also fogs; he is also too clever by half at climbing. There is a splendid prospect from the castle terrace, which Mr. Harker would have enjoyed but for his conviction that he would never leave the place alive-
. . .
These scenes and situations, striking as they are, become commonplace compared with Count Dracula's goings on in London. As Falstaff was not only witty himself but the cause of wit in other people, so a vampire, it seems, compels those it has bitten (two little marks on the throat are its token, usually taken by faculty for the scratches of a broach) to become after death vampires also. Nothing can keep them away but garlic, which is, perhaps, why that comestible is so popular in certain countries. One may imagine, therefore,how the thing spread in London after the Count's arrival. The only chance of stopping it was to kill the Count before any of his victims died, and this was a difficult job, for though several centuries old, he was very young and strong, and could become a dog or a bat at pleasure. However, it is undertaken by four resolute and high-principled persons, and how it is managed forms the subject of the story, of which nobody can complain that it is deficient in dramatic situations. We would not however, recommend it to nervous persons for evening reading.
Children's Literature - Anita Barnes Lowen
Almost everyone is familiar with the story of Dracula. Jonathan Harker, a young English solicitor, travels to Transylvania to finalize a real estate sale. He soon realizes that Count Dracula, his host and client, is not what he seems. "...what manner of creature is this in the semblance of a man?" Finding himself effectively imprisoned and discovering that he is promised to three female vampires ("...when I am done with him, you shall kiss him at your will") Harker escapes down the castle wall and knows no more. In England, a mysterious ship wrecks near the home of Lucy Westerna, a friend of Harker's fiancee. No crew, no captain...only a large dog that bounds overboard and disappears. Soon afterwards Lucy becomes pale and ill and unexplainable red marks appear on her throat. Her doctor is baffled and calls on his mentor, Van Helsing, who quickly surmises that Lucy has become one of the Undead and must be destroyed. "I shall cut off her head, fill her mouth with garlic, and I shall drive a stake through her heart." But the horror will not end until Dracula himself is found and destroyed. The story is told through journal entries and letters written by the novel's characters. At the end of the book, readers will find information on the author, major and minor characters, vampire myths, and vampire bats as well as suggestions of things to think about and do, and a glossary. With the current popularity of vampires in teen and young adult fiction, this chunky classic should be in every middle and high school library. Reviewer: Anita Barnes Lowen
School Library Journal
Gr 5-9–For readers wanting a small shiver down their spines, these books will suffice. Stoker’s Dracula is succinct and well edited. The art is stale and tame and might titillate, but it won’t produce any nightmares. The adaptation in Dorian Gray can be clunky at times but it covers the main points of the story. The beautiful and youthful Dorian Gray is never very attractive in the illustrations, but the decaying painting will appropriately disgust young readers. The story in The Invisible Man is heavily edited, and the action is crammed into a few pages, but the scenes in which the Invisible Man is on the loose are intense. The illustrations are fairly detailed and include some graphic scenes of blood and a nearly naked Invisible Man. All three books include information about the authors and a glossary. There are better adaptations of these novels available, but these titles provide slim and chilling reads that give a taste of the actual stories for reluctant readers.–Carrie Rogers-Whitehead, Kearns Library, UT
Publishers Weekly
This illustrated adaptation of Bram Stoker's work trades the epistolary nature of the original for a condensed, third-person narration, supplemented by selections from Jonathan Harker's journal entries and from John Seward's memoirs. Hitting the major plot points, like Jonathan's arrival at Dracula's castle and Lucy's frightening transformation, Raven retains much of the subtle terror of Jonathan's imprisonment, while providing Mina with more volition (" ‘Tonight we end this,' added Mina firmly"). Readers will likely be chilled by Gilbert's evocative ink and colored pencil images and drawn to the enigmatic Count, with his long, blond hair and violet eyes. A lavish and accessible retelling. Ages 12-up. (July)
David Glover University of Southampton
"No other edition so carefully assembles a wealth of contextual material, nor succeeds so admirably in drawing the reader into Stoker's cultural milieu."
Carol A. Senf Georgia Institute of Technology
"Glennis Byron has done a superb job of collecting just the right supplementary materials to accompany the novel, including reviews by Stoker's contemporaries, biographical material, information on the social and cultural topics that concerned Stoker and his readers, even a tourist guide to London in the late nineteenth-century."
Margaret L. Carter Bradley University
"Valuable for both research and classroom use. All Dracula scholars will want to own this useful, very reasonably-priced text."
Elizabeth Miller Memorial University
"Glennis Byron’s succinct yet comprehensive introduction provides a useful overview of critical responses to Stoker’s text. Even more valuable is the inclusion of supplementary material (some of which has not, until now been readily available) that clearly places Dracula in its historical context."
From the Publisher
"John Lee gives a superb performance of the malevolent Count Dracula, the original vampire. His relaxed low tone, while unexpected for a horror reading, works perfectly. Precise timing and eerie vocal inflections ratchet up the fear factor in each scene." —-AudioFile
VOYA - Matthew Weaver
The prospect of a remake of Bram Stoker's classic is, at first, frightening. This book, however, quickly quells any uneasiness with the first of many gorgeous illustrations. Gilbert's artwork is so lushly vivid and lovingly crafted—particularly the recurring bat imagery and a scene where a wolf drinks a young woman's blood—that it threatens to overpower the words altogether. As we advance through a story both familiar and fresh, heroine Mina waits for word from her fiance, Jonathan, who has gone to Transylvania to help a mysterious Count Dracula arrange housing in London. It's not long before the count has arrived and dear friend Lucy Holmwood falls gravely ill. Mina and Jonathan, with the aid of Professor Abraham Van Helsing, must work to rid themselves of the most famous vampire of all. Raven has rearranged Stoker's novel and made slight alterations to the story, including the addition of a gypsy boy who bears a long-standing vendetta against the infamous count, and a twist to the ending that would doubtless have sat well with the original author. In the midst of Twilight fervor, it must have been tempting to revisit Dracula as a tortured romantic figure, but aside from his new blond locks, there's plenty here to please longtime enthusiasts and welcome a whole new audience to a tale that, just as its central figure, refuses to die. Reviewer: Matthew Weaver
Children's Literature - Paula Rohrlick
This retelling of Bram Stoker's classic about the evil vampire count shortens the tale considerably and adds dramatic, handsome pen and colored ink illustrations, in a large format. In a note from the author, Raven explains the ways in which she has changed the story. Rather than relating it all in diary entries and letters, it is now mostly a narrative, featuring a young Jonathan Harker, though some diary pages do appear. Also, Raven marries Jonathan to Mina later than Stoker does, and she has Holmwood and Lucy marry as well. She offers a less gloomy version of vampire hunter Van Helsing; he is now a man with some wit and flair. Raven also presents the gypsies as enemies of the count, rather than allies. So this is a different take on the novel, rather than just an abridgment, but this version's striking illustrations should help attract a new audience to this old favorite. Their ominous shadows and beautifully rendered details help convey the sense of menace that hangs over the story. Reviewer: Paula Rohrlick
London Times
DRACULA cannot be described as a domestic novel, nor its annals as those of a quiet life. The circumstances described are from the first peculiar. A young solicitor sent for on business by a client in Transylvania goes through some unusual experiences. He finds himself shut up in a half ruined castle with a host who is only seen at night and three beautiful females who have the misfortune of being vampires. Their intentions, which can hardly be described as honourable, are to suck his
From Barnes & Noble
Mysterious, gloomy castles and open graves at midnight are just two of the Gothic devices used to chilling effect in this 19th-century horror classic that turned an obscure figure from Eastern European folklore into a towering icon of film and literature.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780743477369
  • Publisher: Simon & Schuster
  • Publication date: 10/1/2003
  • Series: Enriched Classics Series
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Enriched Classic
  • Pages: 528
  • Product dimensions: 4.00 (w) x 7.00 (h) x 1.00 (d)

Meet the Author

Alfonso Ruiz was born in 1975 in Macuspana, Tabasco in Mexico, where the temperature is just as hot as the sauce is. He became a comic book illustrator when he was 17 years old, and has worked on many graphic novels since then. Alfonso has illustrated several English graphic novels, including retellings of Dracula and Pinocchio.

Benny Fuentes lives in Villahermosa, Tabasco in Mexico, wherethe temperature isjust as hot as the sauce. Hestudied graphic design in college, but now heworks as a full-time colorist in the comic book and graphic novel industry for companies likeMarvel, DC Comics,and Top Cow Productions. He shares his home with two crazy cats, Chelo and Kitty, who act like they own the place.

Michael Burgan has written numerous books for children and young adults during his nearly 20 years as a freelance writer. Many of his books have focused on U.S. history, geography, and the lives of world leaders. He has also written fiction and adapted classic novels. Michael has won several awards for his writing, and his graphic novel version of the classic tale Frankenstein (Stone Arch Books) was a Junior Library Guild selection. Michael has also worked as an editor at Weekly Reader, the classroom news magazine used in schools across the United States.
Michael graduated from the University of Connecticut with a bachelor’s degree in history. When not writing for kids, he enjoys writing plays, and his works have been staged across the United States. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with his cat, Callie.

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Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1: JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL (Kept in shorthand)

3 May. Bistritz. — Left Munich at 8.35 P.M. on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6.46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most Western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh. Here I stopped for the night at the Hôtel Royale. I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Mem., get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and he said it was called 'paprika hendl,' and that, as it was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians. I found my smattering of German very useful here; indeed, I don't know how I should be able to get on without it.

Having some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search among the books and maps of the library regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a noble of that country. I find that the district he named is in the extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk over my travels with Mina.

In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them the Wallachs, who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the west; and Szekelys in the east and north. I am going among the latter, who claim to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the Huns settled in it. I read that every known superstition in the world is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very interesting. (Mem., I must ask the Count all about them.)

I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night long under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then. I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was 'mamaliga,' and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call 'impletata.' (Mem., get recipe for this also.) I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to the station at 7.30 I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China?

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts of attire. Some of them were just like peasants at home or those I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were all very clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier — for the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina — it has had a very stormy existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress — white undergarment with long double apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: 'The Herr Englishman?' 'Yes,' I said, 'Jonathan Harker.' She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter: —

'My Friend, — Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land. — Your friend,
'DRACULA.'

4 May. — I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask anyone else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.

Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a very hysterical way: —

'Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?' She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again: —

'Do you know what day it is?' I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head as she said again: —

'Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is?' On my saying that I did not understand, she went on:

'It is the eve of St George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?' She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous, but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me. I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck, and said, 'For your mother's sake,' and went out of the room. I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I am waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix is still round my neck. Whether it is the old lady's fear, I do not know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here comes the coach!

5 May. — The Castle. — The grey of the morning has passed, and the sun is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There are many odd things to put down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on what they call 'robber steak' — bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple style of the London cat's-meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.

When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside the door — which they call by a name meaning 'word-bearer' — came and listened, and then they looked at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out. I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them were 'Ordog' — Satan, 'pokol' — hell, 'stregoica' — witch, 'vrolok' and 'vlkoslak' — both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire. (Mem., I must ask the Count about these superstitions.)

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty I got a fellow-passenger to tell me what they meant; he would not answer at first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a charm or guard against the evil eye. This was not very pleasant for me, just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man; but everyone seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic that I could not but be touched. I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn-yard and its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the yard. Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered the whole front of the box-seat — 'gotza' they call them — cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom — apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the 'Mittel Land' ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in summer-time excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at loading point.

Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty, snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our serpentine way, to be right before us: —

'Look! Isten szek!' — 'God's seat!' — and he crossed himself reverently. As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was emphasized by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There were many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees and here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now and again we passed a leiter-waggon — the ordinary peasant's cart, with its long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold, and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do at home, but the driver would not hear of it. 'No, no,' he said; 'you must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce,' and then he added, with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry — for he looked round to catch the approving smile of the rest — 'and you may have enough of such matters before you go to sleep.' The only stop he would make was a moment's pause to light his lamps.

When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each side and to frown down upon us; we were entering the Borgo Pass. One by one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed upon me with earnestness which would take no denial; these were certainly of an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with a kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of fear-meaning movements which I had seen outside the hotel at Bistritz — the sign of the cross and the guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along, the driver leaned forward, and on each side the passengers, craning over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was evident that something very exciting was either happening or expected, but though I asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest explanation. This state of excitement kept on for some little time; and at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the glare of lamps through the blackness; but all was dark. The only light was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which steam from our hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could now see the sandy road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle. The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone; I thought it was, 'An hour less than the time.' Then, turning to me, he said in German worse than my own: —

'There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected, after all. He will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day; better the next day.' Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up. Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal crossing of themselves, a calèche, with four horses, drove up behind us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the flash of our lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the driver: —

'You are early to-night, my friend.' The man stammered in reply: —

'The English Herr was in a hurry,' to which the stranger replied: —

'That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift.' As he spoke he smiled, the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's 'Lenore': —

'Denn die Todten reiten schnell.' —

('For the dead travel fast.')

The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. 'Give me the Herr's luggage,' said the driver; and with exceeding alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the calèche. Then I descended from the side of the coach, as the calèche was close alongside, the driver helping me with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must have been prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses turned, and we swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I saw the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps, and projected against it the figures of my late companions crossing themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses, and off they swept on their way to Bukovina.

As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely feeling came over me; but a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent German: —

'The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz [the plum brandy of the country] underneath the seat, if you should require it.' I did not take any, but it was a comfort to know it was there, all the same. I felt a little strange, and not a little frightened. I think had there been any alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again; and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so. I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention to delay. By and by, however, as I was curious to know how time was passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch; it was within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.

Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road — a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance, from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and sharper howling — that of wolves — which affected both the horses and myself in the same way — for I was minded to jump from the calèche and run, whilst they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few minutes, however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the horses so far became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to stand before them. He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary effect, for under his caresses they became quite manageable again, though they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking his reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which ran sharply to the right.

Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine powdery snow began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs, though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my fear; but the driver was not in the least disturbed. He kept turning his head to left and right, but I could not see anything through the darkness.

Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses and, jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but while I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated endlessly, and now, looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare. Once the flame appeared so near the road that even in the darkness around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where the blue flame rose — it must have been very faint, for it did not seem to illumine the place around it at all — and gathering a few stones, formed them into some device. Once there appeared a strange optical effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same. This startled me, but as the effect was only momentary, I took it that my eyes deceived me straining through the darkness. Then for a time there were no blue flames, and we sped onwards through the gloom, with the howling of the wolves around us, as though they were following in a moving circle.

At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he had yet done, and during his absence the horses began to tremble worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether; but just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pineclad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import.

All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see; but the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, and they had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through the ring and to aid his approach. I shouted and beat the side of the calèche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness.

When I could see again the driver was climbing into the calèche, and the wolves had disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. We kept on ascending, with occasional periods of quick descent, but in the main always ascending. Suddenly I became conscious of the fact that the driver was in the act of pulling up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, from whose tall black windows came no ray of light, and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the moonlit sky.

Introduction, critical excerpts, and supplementary materials © 2003 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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Table of Contents

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

I. Jonathan Harker's Journal

II. Jonathan Harker's Journal

III. Jonathan Harker's Journal

IV. Jonathan Harker's Journal

V. Letter from Miss Mina Murray to Miss Lucy Westenra

VI. Mina Murray's Journal

VII. Cutting from The Dailygraph, 8 August

VIII. Mina Murray's Journal

IX. Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra

X. Letter, Dr Seward to Hon. Arthur Holmwood

XI. Lucy Westenra's Diary

XII. Dr Seward's Diary

XIII. Dr Seward's Diary

XIV. Mina Harker's Journal

XV. Dr Seward's Diary

XVI. Dr Seward's Diary

XVII. Dr Seward's Diary

XVIII. Dr Seward's Diary

XIX. Jonathan Harker's Journal

XX. Jonathan Harker's Journal

XXI. Dr Seward's Diary

XXII. Jonathan Harker's Journal

XXIII. Dr Seward's Diary

XXIV. Dr Seward's Phonograph Diary, spoken by Van Helsing

XXV. Dr Seward's Diary

XXVI. Dr Seward's Diary

XXVII. Mina Harker's Journal

LITERARY ALLUSIONS AND NOTES

CRITICAL EXCERPTS

SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING

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Foreword

1. Dracula relies on journal fragments, letters, and newspaper clippings to tell its story. Why might Stoker have chosen to narrate the story in this way? Do letters and journal entries make the story seem more authentic or believable to you? Likewise, discuss the significance that many of the male protagonists are doctors (Dr. Seward) or men of science (Dr. Van Helsing). Why is this important to the story?

2. How does the novel invert Christian mythology in its description of Count Dracula's reign of terror? For instance, what specific elements of Stoker's story parallel scenes or images from the New Testament? Why might this subversion of Christian myth be significant?

3. Discuss the roles of Lucy Westenra and Mina Harker in the novel. How are the two women similar? Different? What accounts for their differences? To what extent does the novel depend on both of these women to propel the narrative forward?

4. Discuss the role of sexuality in Dracula. Would you say that Dracula attempts to reproduce himself sexually or by some other means? In what ways does the figure of Dracula subvert conventional notions of heterosexuality? Consider, for instance, his predilection for drinking blood and his habit of making his victims feed from his chest.

5. What are the elements of vampire folklore? For example, what, according to the novel, attracts or repels a vampire? How do you kill a vampire for good? Although Stoker did not invent the mythology of the vampire, his novel firmly established the conventions of vampire fiction. Choose another novel that deals with vampires and compare it with Dracula. (Consider, for example, one of Anne Rice'svampire books.) In what ways are the novels similar? Different?

6. Consider Freud's essay "The Uncanny" in relation to Stoker's Dracula. How would Freud describe the world that Stoker evokes in the novel? Is this a world of common reality? Or is it a world governed by supernatural belief? Or both? Discuss Freud's claim that the writer of gothic fiction is "betraying to us the superstitiousness which we have ostensibly surmounted; he deceives us by promising to give us the sober truth, and then after all overstepping it." In what ways does Stoker's narrative strategy of employing newspaper clippings and journal entries promise the "sober truth"? To what extent do you think Dracula achieves a sense of the uncanny?

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Reading Group Guide

1. Dracula relies on journal fragments, letters, and newspaper clippings to tell its story. Why might Stoker have chosen to narrate the story in this way? Do letters and journal entries make the story seem more authentic or believable to you? Likewise, discuss the significance that many of the male protagonists are doctors (Dr. Seward) or men of science (Dr. Van Helsing). Why is this important to the story?

2. How does the novel invert Christian mythology in its description of Count Dracula's reign of terror? For instance, what specific elements of Stoker's story parallel scenes or images from the New Testament? Why might this subversion of Christian myth be significant?

3. Discuss the roles of Lucy Westenra and Mina Harker in the novel. How are the two women similar? Different? What accounts for their differences? To what extent does the novel depend on both of these women to propel the narrative forward?

4. Discuss the role of sexuality in Dracula. Would you say that Dracula attempts to reproduce himself sexually or by some other means? In what ways does the figure of Dracula subvert conventional notions of heterosexuality? Consider, for instance, his predilection for drinking blood and his habit of making his victims feed from his chest.

5. What are the elements of vampire folklore? For example, what, according to the novel, attracts or repels a vampire? How do you kill a vampire for good? Although Stoker did not invent the mythology of the vampire, his novel firmly established the conventions of vampire fiction. Choose another novel that deals with vampires and compare it with Dracula. (Consider, for example, one of Anne Rice's vampirebooks.) In what ways are the novels similar? Different?

6. Consider Freud's essay "The Uncanny" in relation to Stoker's Dracula. How would Freud describe the world that Stoker evokes in the novel? Is this a world of common reality? Or is it a world governed by supernatural belief? Or both? Discuss Freud's claim that the writer of gothic fiction is "betraying to us the superstitiousness which we have ostensibly surmounted; he deceives us by promising to give us the sober truth, and then after all overstepping it." In what ways does Stoker's narrative strategy of employing newspaper clippings and journal entries promise the "sober truth"? To what extent do you think Dracula achieves a sense of the uncanny?

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Customer Reviews

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 50099 Customer Reviews
  • Posted June 28, 2009

    I Also Recommend:

    One of the best vampire books ever written.

    I don't mean to sound mean or anything, because I love Twilight, but Dracula is probably one of the best (if not the best) vampire book ever written. Not only is it a classic, but it's just a great story, with well thought out characters and a great plot. It takes a little bit of getting used to, since the format of the story is a little strange, but a chapter or so in it's not too hard to read. The story is very compelling and will make you think, which also makes it good for book clubs and discussions. A good thriller!

    63 out of 72 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 14, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Just as scary as contemporary novels!

    This book was written 112 years ago and it's just as scary as Stephen King's Salem's Lot. The fictional character of Dracula is not sexy nor repentant he is just full of bloodlust and everyone around him is his prey. This book should be read by anyone who likes gothic novels or vampires. This book should be the first vampire novel read before any others so you can see the progession of how the character has changed.

    47 out of 51 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 23, 2010

    Best vampire book EVER!

    This is the original but it is definitely the best. Many people who are used to reading Stephanie Meyer and other modern vampire authors may be disappointed as they will be forced to think about what they are reading in Stoker's Dracula. I have always had this on my "to read" list. I am very sorry I waited this long to pick it up. I read it almost straight through and now my 9th grader is reading it. At over 100 years old, there are language and expressions used that you may need to think about but most can be taken contextually. It should not present much of a problem for those who are willing to look things up or ponder for a moment before pressing on. There are some very tense and scary moments in the story. It is set up as a series of journal entries from the diaries of each of the characters (except for Dracula himself). I actually found this setup to be most entertaining. Stoker developed the characters thoroughly via this avenue. It is an excellent book -- a timeless classic that everyone should read.

    33 out of 35 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 28, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Dracula (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

    This was the first Barnes & Noble Classics Series book I bought and I had some mixed feelings about it. The book itself was great, and I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys horror films. But I would also recommend not reading the introduction if you do not already know the outcome of Dracula. In the introduction, Brooke Allen tells you alittle too much about the story, like its outcome and all kinds of things in the middle. I had not read Dracula, or seen any film adaptations of the original story, so having an introduction, that is not part of the story, tell me what the outcome was really bugged me. The book is great, but I would recommend skipping the intro if you don't already know the story of Dracula.

    33 out of 34 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted September 7, 2010

    A true classic!

    This was one of the first books I downloaded to my new Nook (admittedly because it was free at the time, but I was intrigued). I love a good scary read and thought this would be a great book to break-in my Nook on. I wasn't disappointed. Leave any movie visions you have behind and let your imagination run wild. It was a facinating read with several climaxes that keep you on edge. Definitely not what I expected, but in a good way. Enjoy!

    18 out of 21 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 25, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    This time the movie was better (kinda).

    Bram Stoker's Dracula is unique in its approach to writing. It is original in its style and storytelling concept. As introduced at the beginning of the novel, it is portrayed to be a stake of journals, diaries, letters, and recordings, placed in a particular order that will tell the story of Count Dracula and the characters involvement with him. This is unique and enjoyable. When the source changes from letter to diary to journal etc, then the style and voice and perspective also change to the point that one forgets that Bram Stoker is the sole author. After seeing Francis Ford Coppola's 1992 movie and the initial love story, back story, and Dracula's motivation for coming to London the book is deficient. The ending of the movie of course provides for an ongoing story or sequel. The book just abruptly ends and you are left with a "is that all" feeling. Character development is shallow but there are moments of brilliance in scenic description and allusion. Vampire lore and abilities are defined and there are moments of pure evil. No sparkling in the sunlight. No pretty boys with gorgeous eyes. No modern day "you would if you loved me" BS. Just plain, straight up horror and creepiness. Though very very subtle the sexual undercurrent can be pronounced. Freud, who is reported to have analyzed Dracula, saw it and most modern readers will too. The sexual scenes and tension was palpable in the movie and could be even more. I guess this is one of the facets of vampirism that is appealing to modern teens and writers. The book is a good easy read and has several genius moments of description and visualization that every one should read once. This is still the FIRST true vampire novel that has influenced the world. One could say that Dracula is to vampirism as Elvis is to rock and roll. No one hardly remembers what happened before but the phenomenon that is still raging now owes everything to this world changing pioneer. The thing that stands out even now as I am writing this review is how Bram Stoker changed voice and style and meter when he changed characters. By the middle of the book you could tell who's letter or journal or diary you were reading by the way it was written and the way it sounded; very talented and insightful author.

    16 out of 17 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 23, 2010

    More engrossing than modern vampire tales

    I remember picking up this book from the library in high school and not getting past page one. Ten years later, I could not put the book down. This is truly THE vampire tale. This is where all modern vampire tales come from. I am a Buffy and Twilight fan but they do not hold a candle (or a stake) to this classic. Once you get to page ten, you will not be able to stop. Highly recommended.

    14 out of 15 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 8, 2010

    Loving the Classics

    I just started reading this one and so far I can't put it down.

    13 out of 16 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted April 9, 2010

    The original is still the best

    When I was fourteen I saw a documentary on Bela Lugosi. Up to that point, I had never given much thought to vampires other than Grandpa Munster, Count Chocula, and the Count from Sesame Street. But there was something about Bela, his story and the way he immortalized Dracula forever that led me to reading Dracula.
    Johnathan Harker isn't the most interesting character in literature. He's rather bland and I struggled through the first chapter or two until he enters Castle Dracula and meets his captor. Count Dracula is always written about in the third person. I really enjoy the epistolary form of conveying the story and I think Bram Stoker did a pretty good job of creating different voices. Sure his female characters lack complexity and Quincy Morris is the sterotypical Texas cowboy-- the strong but silent type. And of course, Van Helsing...Dracula's nemesis and the most complex good guy in the entire book. Stoker does a terrific job with setting the stage and moving the story along. He creates a monster that is genuinely terrifying because he is so inhuman and doesn't play by the rules of well-mannered Victorians. He is terrifying because you never know what form he'll take. Perhaps one of the more frightening aspects of Dracula isn't the actual vampire so much as his ability to control mere mortals and even drive them to the point of madness...there's a very fine line between sanity and madness sometimes and I think that point is driven home quite well in Dracula.
    Dracula may not be scary in the fashion of Steven King, but I know I've had times where I've gone to bed and I haven't been able to fall right to sleep because there could be malevolent forces outside my window...well you never know. All I know is Dracula isn't sparkly or whiney or hating his eternal life. He embraces his life and maybe that's a lesson we should all learn.

    9 out of 10 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 16, 2012

    Must read!

    Dracula is such a gripping, suspenseful novel that I found it hard to put down. I would highly recommend this to anyone who enjoys the modern thriller genera.

    8 out of 11 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 10, 2009

    Now THIS is a vampire book!

    I read this shortly after reading Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series, and let me tell you, if you're looking for a book about vampires, THIS is the one to get! No sparkly, "vegitarian" vampires here! I've got nothing againts the Twilight saga, but Stoker's Dracula is definatly the book to read for an awesome vampire story!

    8 out of 10 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 10, 2012

    Great Book, and Nook Book is Excellent!

    I read this classic tale of horror many years ago and it was the first book that frightened me so much I couldn't sleep. That's odd because I never thought it would be so terrifying. Of course, I've seen all the movie versions, but there're nothing compared to the original book by Bram Stoker.

    The Nook version is also excellent. It's so easy to read and the layout is perfect. You can get from chapter to chapter by simply tapping on the table of contents.

    Well worth the money for this classic tale of terror.

    7 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 8, 2012

    Very good starting bop Very good starting book

    If you just purchased a nook this book is a perfict first book because A. Its free B. Its a classic C. Its the the perfict combonation of suspense, comedy, and horror. I highly recomend this book to any new nook customer.

    7 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted November 19, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    The only vampire book that matters

    I recently purchased this book after going years without reading it. This is a classic novel. By an underrated author bram stoker who died in povertyand enver saw the books impact or success. By using vlad the impaler and elizabeth bathery as inspiration he creates a misty world of supernatural romanticism. Dracula as a creature of the night in thrilling action sequences is just what you need sometimes. he writing style in this book is along dead form but it works well with dracula.

    7 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 10, 2012

    Great classic

    It was fun to finally read this wonferfully written horror classic.

    6 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 31, 2012

    A must read classic.

    If you are a fan of modern day horror or vampire stories, you owe it to yourself to read the father of them all. The language is old, but the story is timeless. I have already re-read it once and probably will again someday.

    6 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 27, 2012

    Excellent.

    Perhaps there is a tenth of the book that drags, and some thick-written accenrs for passing characters is rough to read, but on the whole this novel is impossible to put down. The links to appendices work well and serve to inform of archaic termonology as well as references (remember that while in the appendices you can touch the number of the entry and return back to the page it pulls from, in case the "back" button disappears). Better than the movie, and any vampire fiction I have read or seen.

    6 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 24, 2012

    Dracula

    Seems boring . Is it. Should i. How do you delete it.

    6 out of 45 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted March 20, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Better Than the Movie

    I loved this book! I wasn't going to bother reading it because I've been watching Dracula movies for years, but I'm glad I did. It is much better than the movies.

    6 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 18, 2008

    DRACULA BY BRAM STOKER

    Good detail about the main characters and good visualization. Kind of hard to follow at times, but I was satisfied with how it came together.

    6 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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