Vampyres, Myth and Legend

What is it about vampyres that has held countless millions enthralled with the mythology and legend for untold centuries?

If you were to ask anyone who knows me well, they would tell you I'm a little vampyre obsessed. I collect literature, movies, memorbilia, and assorted odds and ends. I have read stories about vampyre legends from every country on every continent (save for Antarctica) in the known world. So what is it about vampyres that keeps people like me so hopelessly enthralled?

If you ask contemporary artists, authors, and movie makers, they will tell it's the sex appeal of the vampyre. The dark, mysterious figure prowling in the shadows - searching for the next meal, the next unsuspecting fool who crosses that forbidden path. A vampyre seduces with his gaze, holds your attention with a few well-chosen words, and then makes love to you in the only way they choose - by robbing you of your blood.

Others will tell you that the fascination lies in the blood itself. When vampyre legend began appearing in local mythologies throughout the world, very little was known about our "elixir of life". No one knew what components made up blood - the only thing that was known is that if you lost too much, you would die. This was also a time of unknown diseases - contagions that would decimate entire populations that today are cured with a small pill. Combine the two and you had the recipe for speculation, gossip, and infamy.

But what is the true hold for those with a vampyric obsession? Is it the blood? The sex? Does the answer lie somewhere in between the two or in another direction entirely?

Someone asked me last night why... why I have this obsession with these creatures of the nyte, and I had to stop for a moment - examine my own interest into the cult phenomenon surrounding vampyric lore. What was it that drew me to these legendary predators? Why do I, at times, feel myself sympathizing - nay, empathizing - with these damned souls cursed to eternal darkness? How can a creature that is evil personified fascinate an educated person to the point of obsession?

The answer lies somewher along the outer edges of both explanations - with a decided twist.
Yes, the vampyre is undeniably an incredibly sexy character in literature. Bewitchingly beautiful, a vampyre can entrance with a glance, enthrall with a word, and steal your soul. This is the legendary lover of our deepest, darkest fantasties - that dark man or woman who so totally consumes us that we can no longer tell where we end and they begin. As a whole, the human race seeks to find that person that will fulfill our whispered promises of forever - and a vampyre delivers upon that promise. Mystery meets magic meets mayhem in a being meant to literally steal your soul as he or she sups on your blood.

Another portion of the quotient is blood. This magical substance really is the elixir of life. It's possible to rehydrate you if you lose too much water - you can always eat if you have been starving. But, if you lose too much blood, your body shuts down and dies. Although we know more about blood today than when vampyric myth and legend first surfaced, blood still holds as much fascination now as it did then - maybe even more because we do know about its components and how they make our bodies function. If we should happen to cut ourselves or get injured, this rich red liquid comes forth - a very real reminder that you are still alive.

But those are not the only magnetic parts of the myth. There are so many more... such as the promise of eternal life on earth, gaining that singular ability to experience all that is to come.

Personally, I have to admit the mythology itself is what fascinates me. There are very few things on Earth, now or in history, that can be claimed as a part of every single society that has ever been. Vampyric myth and legend is one of those few things. While details may vary depending on the locale (from the head and attached entrails of the Malay Penanggalang to the four-armed Indian Kali draped in human remains to the smooth talking vampyre recognized in English literature), the essentials are there - a feared demon that feasts upon humankind, living forever trapped in whatever form they are in, and possessing a damned soul with the knowledge of an awful afterlife upon final death.

Another fascination for me is the fact that, even within one given mythology, the different stories vary depending upon the view of the storyteller. If you were to take a look at English vampyric literature, you would see all sorts of differences in the details. While one story may claim sunlight is deadly to vampyres, another claims they are merely allergic to it but can tolerate small amounts of it. You'll read stories where the only way to kill an vampyre is either a wooden stake through the heart, cutting off the vampyre's head, or burning the vampyre to its final death; and then you'll read a story that says all of those ways are hideously wrong - you'd have to do something totally different.

And that, for me, is the real fascination. Delving into each story and discovering the commonalities between them while panning for those subtle differences like Yukon gold. You really never know exactly what you're going to get upon opening the cover of a vampyric novel or story - and with the variety of authors out there carrying the legend forth to cult status, you never will.

College Coffee House

I ran across the most perfect little place. It's called The College Coffee House - just this little place down the hill from the university. (When I say little, it says "Maximum Occupancy 80".) But it's this warm, open, inviting little place.

For the most part, the tables located within the coffee house are made just for two - just right for enjoying a cup of coffee after a date or maybe even while on a date, listening to whomever happens to be playing at the time. There are a few larger tables, where a study group from up on the hill could congregate and accomplish their study goals.

There are four computers with internet access (the first fifteen minutes are free when you pay for your drink; then it's just two dollars for fifteen minute increments after that. Not bad for a little cafe.) Two of the computers are out in the main cafe - two are located in this darker back room that also has a couple couches where you could get together with some friends and talk uninterrupted.

The decor is simple - actual burlap bags that have been used in Columbia and Costa Rica to collect coffee beans and some South American art. In the far left corner, away from the door, is a small stage with microphones and an amplifier - just right for a small music ensemble or a solo artist to perform... or even a poetry reading or two. The walls behind the stage are decorated with posters of jazz legends and photographs of people who have actually performed at the coffee house.

They make a really damned good espresso (I had two) and offer a variety of coffees. In addition, they have a wide selection of teas, smoothies, and specialty drinks for those not overly fond of coffee. Along side the drinks, they offer some small lunch or dinner items and some snacks/desserts.

Looking around, you see all types of people milling about - college students workin on an assignment; friends getting together to catch up on what's been happening in each other's lives; a couple on a first date, anxiously leaning in over the table to talk; a couple who have been together awhile, relaxing on a couch and talking like the old friends they are; people seeking a respite from a day of shopping; even a family taking time out of their busy schedules to really just catch up with one another.

You wouldn't think a town like Fairbanks - and let's face it! Fairbanks is still small enough that it can't really be called a city! - would have a place like this tucked into some back corner in a little strip mall. Fairbanks with its gruff old sourdoughs with that shock of white hair and the ZZ Top beards; young, naive cheechakos in their sneakers and leather jackets, braving the elements at forty below; old fashioned gentlemen who will still offer their seat to a lady; young, brash punks who would rather stare you down than even offer something akin to kindness; military members and their spouses, in a state of aftershock due to the change in environment; old timers who would rather die than ever move back to a big city. Not this place - no way.

But, then again, why not? Fairbanks is slowly growing - the military with its Army post and Air Force base are seeing to that. So is Wal-mart for that matter. Fairbanks is a true melting pot, a real representative of America at its best. You can see tourists mingling with residents at any time of year. A college student is not afraid to ask a local for directions their first time out and about in town. It has that comfortable hometown feeling while being removed from the rat race that so often consumes a small town.

So, why not Fairbanks? Why not indeed...