From crumbling castles to vine-choked plantations, from the Danube to the Mississippi, the locus of the Gothic has shifted — to the U.S. Sou
The Southern Gothic is a can of fucking worms, and we’re diving in. On the one hand, mapping the Othering of Eastern Europe onto U.S. landscapes is a fascinating way for authors to explore the blood-soaked history of the American South. On the other, what do we do when the trend toward romanticizing monsters takes the metaphor into places we’d rather not go?
From True Blood to Vampire Diaries to Twilight, there are honestly more Confederate vampires than I’d care to count — especially because these men are meant to be romantic heroes: redeemed, unproblematized (for their political histories, at least), and worthy of love. And every author who wrote one of these characters made a choice.
Then again, there are authors and directors who use the Southern Gothic to critique and problematize the racial dynamics of the South, from Anne Rice to Ryan Coogler. Their vampires represent something insidious, masked, and hungry — a polite and presentable malice that draws its strength from the lives and bodies of those it deems inferior.
There’s a ton to unpack, and I haven’t even mentioned New Orleans. If you’ve ever wondered why vampires seem to flock to the South, give us a listen.
