I read the novel Dracula years ago. I struggled to read it at first because of the language – not that English isn’t my first language, it is, but this book was written so long ago and our language has changed and evolved so much that it’s getting difficult to understand easily. Because of that, I decided to take Dracula and edit it to fit in better with modern-day language.
Here’s the project I set myself then. I hope you enjoy it… it’s taken quite a while.
Pictures from Google Images - licenced for re-use
DRACULA
by
Bram Stoker
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Publishers
Copyright, 1897, in the United States of America, according to Act of Congress, by Bram Stoker
[All rights reserved.]
TO MY DEAR FRIEND HOMMY-BEG
4 May.
I heard my landlord had got a letter from the Count, telling him to reserve the best place on the coach for me; but when I asked him for details, he pretended that he couldn’t understand my German.
This couldn’t be true, because up to then he’d understood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questions like he did.
He and his wife looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled that the money had been sent in a letter, and that was all he knew.
When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and simply refused to speak further.
It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask anyone else. It was all very mysterious and not by any means comforting.
Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in a very hysterical way, "Must you go? Oh, young Herr, must you go?"
She was in such an agitated state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew, and mixed it all up with some other language which I didn’t know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking questions.
When I told her I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important business, she asked again, "Do you know what day it is?"
I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said, "Oh, yes! I know that! I know that, but do you know what day it is?"
I told her I didn’t understand, and she went on, "It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have dominance? Do you know where you’re going, and what you’re going to?"
She was so distressed that I tried to comfort her, but without effect.
Finally, she went down on her knees and begged me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting out. It was all ridiculous but I didn’t feel comfortable.
However, there was business to be done, and I couldn’t allow anything to interfere with it. I tried to raise her up, and said that I thanked her, but my work was important, and I must go.
She then rose and dried her eyes. She took her crucifix from her neck and offered it to me.
I didn’t know what to do. I’ve been taught to regard such things as superstitious, and yet it felt ungracious to refuse the old lady. She obviously meant well.
She saw the doubt in my face, and put the rosary round my neck. "For your mother's sake," she said, and went out of the room.
I’m writing up this part of the diary whilst waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late. The crucifix is still round my neck.
Whether it’s the old lady's fear, or the ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I don’t know, but I’m not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye.
Here comes the coach!
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Thank you!