Random Thursday Musing

Today is novelist Anne Rice’s birthday. In honor of the occasion, I’ll share–and probably somewhat repeat past entries–some of my favorite moments with Anne Rice’s work.

Back in the mid 1980s, I made a new friend who, upon finding out that I was an avid reader, suggested that I read Interview With the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat. While anxiously awaiting release of The Queen of the Damned, he wanted someone to talk with about the novels.

I wrinkled my nose. Although I enjoyed the artistry of classic literature with some characteristics of horror or the supernatural–most notably works of Poe, Hawthorne, and the Bronte sisters–my heart and mind didn’t really go in that direction. But I valued his friendship and his opinion, so I said I’d give Interview a go.

As I’ve mentioned before, this was the first time in my life that I’d lived alone. No family, husband, roommates. I was in an old brownstone building, in an apartment with high ceilings, plaster walls, and weathered hardwood floors. It was loaded with atmosphere and was the perfect place to read this first of Rice’s vampire books. Late at night, with the windows open to the spring breeze, I would feel vampire eyes out in the darkness… watching… waiting. I was scared, but I wanted those vampires to be real. And when one night a flying palmetto bug hit my screen just as Louis bit into a victim’s flesh, I lost all composure. It was fantastic.

I was hooked, of course. From the time I was very young and first wanted to be a writer, my main interest was creating a world that wouldn’t end with the last page of a novel. Many mystery, fantasy, and science fiction writers did this, but it wasn’t so common in other popular fiction back then: a setting and a cast of characters who would continue from one novel to the next, for as long as the writer could sustain interest in writing about them. Anne Rice did this splendidly, creating something entirely new with her vampire and witch series, and for this, I’ll always admire her writing.

Another of my favorite memories having to do with the vampire series was going to see Interview With the Vampire with friends when it came out. I think Amy, Nora, Lynne, Tom, and I were the ones who’d read the books, but our friend Vicki went with us, too. We tried to warn her that it might be a little graphic, and indeed, the first time we heard the sound of Lestat biting into flesh, she got woozy. She valiantly stuck it out, but I don’t think it’s one of her happiest movie experiences ever. And amazingly, since he constantly watches TV shows full of screaming females, Tom, too, got nauseated during the scene with Lestat taunting Louis with the prostitutes before killing them. All of us agreed that Kirsten Dunst gave a beautifully chilling performance as Claudia. Interview remains the only movie that’s exempt from my Tom Cruise ban (and in spite of the fact that my beautiful Armand was woefully miscast with Antonio Banderas). I’ll always love the first two vampire books, and I’ve enjoyed the entire series, with The Tale of the Body Thief a wonderful treat for me to reread occasionally for the romance element Rice added to the homoeroticism found in all of her vampire stories.

It was the first of Rice’s Mayfair books that conjures up another of my favorite memories. I hadn’t read any of the witch books before a night in the spring of 1995 when I went to my friend Tim Rose’s house to discuss the declining health of a mutual friend. It was my first visit to Tim’s home, a charming cottage in the West U area that was filled with antiques including quilts, furniture, and stained glass windows taken from demolished houses. I arrived to find him sitting in darkness alleviated only by candlelight while he listened to a tape of The Witching Hour. I was enchanted by the idea of creating an atmosphere like that, and from then on, whenever we watched Interview With the Vampire at The Compound, we did so with the lights out and candles burning. This night also caused me to finally start reading The Witching Hour, which had been on my to-be-read pile for several years.

Finally, another favorite association I have with the Rice books is her novel Violin. I didn’t really enjoy the book when I read it, but directly afterward, when I was telling someone about it (it may have been Tim–whoever it was, he hadn’t read the book), I felt Rice’s concept was quite brilliant. It was her execution that disappointed me, and I couldn’t understand why. Several years later, I told Greg Herren about my lackluster reaction to the novel. He then proceeded to deconstruct the story for me in terms of it being a metaphor for Anne Rice and her relationship with her writing. This was an experience that awed me, not only because I finally could appreciate the book on this level, but because it reminded me of what a profound gift a good teacher can be. That’s what Greg was on that day, and if I never thanked you, Greg, consider this an expression of my gratitude. That kind of discussion is why people talk about books they’ve read and take classes in literature.

I like it that I don’t always agree with Anne Rice’s choices, because she remains a brilliant example to me of a writer who follows her instincts, who does what she wants with her career and succeeds, no more daunted by disapproval than she is by acclaim. As a writer, she’s a world-builder with a unique voice, and I admire that and her longevity. I wish her the happiest of birthdays and many more years of writing and enjoying the rewards that her writing has provided her.