“Have you ever killed
anyone, Benjamin? It's like sex only there's a winner.”
--- Mr
Hyde, Jekyll (2007)
The Space Vampires
has a deceptive title. I got my copy at a booksale and was told I
could take ten books for €5; I only took this one to fill that
quota. From the title and the blurb – about a sex-crazed lady who
starts seducing men to their destruction – I was expecting a bit of
disposable pulp.
I was
surprised to learn that the book was in fact a philosophical tract
written by a man who seemed to garner some controversy in his
lifetime. I don't know much about philosophy, but I am interested to
see how writers infuse their personal beliefs with their stories.
Therefore, I approached Mr Wilson's book with more interest.
The
plot of The Space Vampires
is what you'd expect; a team of astronauts discover a derelict
spacecraft built and abandoned by some formidably intelligent alien
race, yet somehow harbouring humans in suspended animation. Three of
these specimens are brought down to Earth, wherein they break free
and start preying on any humans they find by seducing them and
possessing their minds. The fate of the world lies primarily in the
hands of Olof Carlsen, commander of the team that discovered the
“vampires”, and Dr Hans Fallada, who becomes fascinated by their
hunting techniques.
One
thing I'll say for this story is how effectively it shifts between
different genres. The opening chapters, from Carlsen's exploration of
the space derelict (christened the Stranger)
to Fallada's experiments with life-fields, are situated well within
the science-fiction genre. Wilson gets the plot off running almost
instantaneously with the Stranger's
arrival, and creates an oppressive feeling of dread when the team
embarks on it. Fallada's experiments with sea creatures creates dread
of a different sort, where the simple act of an eel eating an octopus
becomes an almost sexual act, as depicted by Fallada's
“life-streams”.
This
section seems to be inspired by the controversial theory of the
physicist, Harold Saxon Burr, who argued that all organisms have an
electromagnetic field surrounding them that corresponds with their
physical state. Wilson uses this theory to add to the philosophical
argument of his own work – he parallels the life-field theory with
his own depiction of the mental/sexual relationship between the
vampires and their prey. The concept of an interconnected universe is
explored by the text in various ways, from the life-field
experiments, to Carlsen's newfound telepathy, to the aliens' own
concept of sexual attraction.
The
story shifts into Gothic territory when Carlsen and Fallada travel to
Sweden in the search for answers about the vampires. They come to a
secluded mansion, owned by an eccentric count named Geijerstam, who
has a trio of young, eager female students to greet the newcomers.
Wilson undermines our expectations here; the count has all the
trappings of the Stoker-like vampire but turns out to be benevolent
and helpful. Instead, it's Carlsen who is the vampire – or more
precisely, has a psychic connection to one of them after a brief
encounter.
The
act of seduction itself is the text's replacement of blood-sucking;
it's through this method that the vampires infect their victims.
Rather than bloodlust, it's sexual lust that the victims are overcome
with, and Carlsen finds his personal magnetism skyrocketing in the
wake of this new power. Unsurprisingly, he has to fight to keep a
hold of this humanity in the face of this temptation.
I
liked how the text subverts the classical vampire trope and
transplants the Gothic theme into a form that contemporary readers
could relate to. However, it really could have been handled better.
Carlsen tries to use the thought of his wife and children to stop
himself giving into his desires. I found this potentially moving
development lacking, as we really don't see much of Carlsen's family
life. His relationship with them isn't explored much, and so I found
it hard to get too invested in this part of the story.
This
point in the novel throws up a bigger problem, however. Wilson bases
the vampires' methods around his own perception of men and women's
sexual relations. The book uses the standard “Men are from Mars,
women are from Venus” argument; in this case, “Men are inherently
sexually aggressive, while women are submissive”. At one point,
Geijerstam takes Carlsen to a psychic to examine the vampires'
connection to him. She does this by hanging a pendulum over him, and
Geijerstam explains that there are subtle differences in the
experiment when it comes to men and women. In this case, the text
seems to be arguing that a person's mental state is somehow connected
with their gender. I'm not an expert on gender politics, but I wasn't
much convinced by Wilson's argument here. For one thing, it
completely ignores LGBT people. The argument comes off as very
archaic and simplistic
Thankfully,
the story does pick up again in the third act, where the truth about
the vampires' origins is revealed. Wilson not only conveys how truly
alien the vampires are, but how much of a culture shock it would be
to meet them. When Carlsen is shown just how much of the Universe
they have explored, it puts the Planet Earth in a rather obsolete
perspective. Carlsen's nihilistic reaction to this – and to the
vampires' unexpected fate – left quite an impression on me. Wilson
also draws a broad outline of the aliens' culture, how they became
vampires, and also of their intentions in coming to Earth. It's
enough to make the novel feel richer, but not too much that it gets
bogged down in technical details.
The
theme of interconnectedness returns to the novel's climax. Near the
start, Fallada showed how the life-fields of predator and prey work
in harmony as one is consumed by the other. Here, the vampires' own
predatory nature is a result, not of connection, but isolation. Cut
off from their own world, they're forced to take genocidal measures
just to survive. I couldn't help feeling some degree of sympathy for
the vampires, but Wilson manages to avoid downplaying the horror of
their acts.
The
Space Vampires is an interesting if uneven novel. I didn't agree
with all of its arguments and the characterisation is pretty thin.
Where it succeeds is building a feeling of weirdness and horror,
while hinting at some deeper, groundbreaking themes.
