Isn’t It Byronic?
This is Villa Diodati, made famous because it was the site where, in 1816, Lord Byron hosted a thunderstorm slumber party where he challenged his guests — among them Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, and John Polidori — to write the best scary story. The most famous work to come out of that night was a plucky little book you may have heard of called “Frankenstein: A Modern Prometheus”, which turned 200 this year.
But the standout effort, after Frankenstein, was the very first English-language novel concerning a vampire.
It would come as no surprise that Byron, poet laureate of AP English class, authored the wildly successful “The Vampyre”; a book that swept Europe and inspired spinoffs, sequels, several stage plays and even an opera. It was reprinted innumerable times. Johann Goethe raved that it was Byron’s finest work. Burger King had a promotional tie-in.
Small problem: Byron didn’t write it.
That summer at Villa Diodati, Lord Byron never finished the ghost story he began. He gave up on it like House of Cards gave up after Season 2. But he did manage to finish his relationship with his personal physician, John Polidori. Polidori had been touring Europe with his lordship, providing him with medical services and party drugs, until, at some point, the physician got tired of Byron’s fuckery.
See, Byron was an infamous shit-talker and man-slut. In fact, the reason he was touring the continent is because he was persona non grata in England after getting handsy with the wrong booty. He belittled those around him, stole ya girl, and probably caucused for Santorum. But when he needed to, he was alluring as James Bond — charming, handsome, and without any regard for anyone else. Those qualities were about to get worked against him…
It’s hard to feel bad for Byron when, after he’d kicked Polidori around one too many times, the jilted doctor swiped the lord’s unfinished tale from the Diodati all-nighter, polished it to a shine, and made the villain a tight resemblance of Byron, resulting in a best seller.
In fact, the image of a noble, refined, well-dressed vampire is often called a “Byronic vampire.” Meaning that Lord Byron, bon vivant of Villa Diodati, is forever associated with one of the most sociopathic villains in western literature.
Mic drop, Mr. Polidori. Mic drop indeed.
But now, are you ready for some messed up head trippy stuff?
Briefly, the antagonist of The Vampyre (the one based on Lord Byron) has a way of using people up —presumably through some supernatural force — until they, without fail, meet untimely ends. Some fall into ruin, some die, many get ill and never recover. And he doesn’t give a good goddamn about any of the people left in his wake.
So after Polidori publishes The Vampyre and it’s misattributed to Byron, Polidori tries to correct the attribution and gets accused of plagiarism, and later when he attempts to become a monk, he’s barred because he wrote The Vampyre, even though he’s also accused of not writing it. He attempts to become a lawyer and fails. He then falls into gambling, ruin, and dies alone and broken, all in the shadow of Lord Byron. EXACTLY LIKE THE CHARACTERS LEFT IN THE FICTIONALIZED BYRON’S WAKE.
In one sense, it would appear that Lord Byron got the last laugh on Polidori. But in another sense — if we see Polidori’s The Vampyre as a warning of what it’s like to be around Lord Byron, and Polidori’s own unfortunate end as a validation of that warning — Polidori told us everything we need to know about the 19th Century’s most colossal douche.
Incidentally, Villa Diodati still stands and you can get close, though it’s privately owned so gaining entrance is a problem. Also, the current owners don’t take “But I’m a big fan of Frankenstein and this is the bicentenary of the book!” as an excuse when they catch you grave-robbing in their garden.
Toothpickings is a blog that you can read. It is generally about vampires and rarely about Frankenstein.
Image credits: Edward Francis Finden, Shutterstock
