293 pages
Published 2022 (expanded from original 2021 version)
Read from June 12 to June 13
Rating: 4 out of 5
A vivid and atmospheric tale delving into the trope of the brides of Dracula (and what such a relationship would entail from the perspective of one such bride), Dowry traces a gorgeously sharp line from an initial seduction and power exchange to abuse, isolation, emotional debasement, and control. It luxuriates in the queer polyamorous monster-fuckery hinted at in Stoker’s novel, but at its core knocks the horrid rhythm of an abusive relationship, pulled from the depths still beating for us to see. Gibson skillfully portrays the allure of the vampire's power and how it curdles into domineering, gaslighting, and manipulation. As she writes in the dedication, “To those who escaped a love like death, and to those still caught in its grasp: you are the heroes of this story.”
Our narrator Constanta (so christened by the vampire upon her second birth upon a medieval battlefield) addresses the story to Dracula, hoping to justify, if only to herself, the actions she took, and to examine the hold he had exercised on her for so long. Dracula (never named as such, though an offhand reference to “that whole debacle with the Harkers” removes any ambiguity about his identity) uses Constanta’s own erotic desires to further ensnare her, toying with her in the tension between her insecurities and her lust. The introduction of Magdalena, in particular, is perfectly poised between Constanta’s carnality and Dracula’s paternalistic control.
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