Is Carmilla a love story or a warning?
“never does she dodge Carmilla” — M
Is Carmilla homophobic?
R
The oldest reading of the book: an anti-lesbian morality tale, the love written as the evil. Do you buy that?
M
I don't knowwww. That might be true? I'm not a historian or even a classics expert.
My read? Carmilla is irresistible, and it's hard not to cheer for her. Do they bring up that she doesn't seem to pray? Yes. Is her sapphic interest subtle? No. But guess what? Carmilla doesn't read as evil. She's kind of just a victim of circumstance.
R
What do you mean when you say she's a victim of circumstance?
M
She didn't choose any of it. The book tells us some suicides become vampires, and vampires create more vampires — that's the line Carmilla is descended from. It tells us about the special relationships vampires can have with some people, and it never tells us those relationships aren't genuine. It's even implied that Carmilla DID plan to tell Laura everything at some point.
R
When we were talking earlier you compared Carmilla to Heathcliff. Why?
M
The depth of love Carmilla expresses for Laura is Heathcliff-esque, and the evil of Carmilla pales in comparison to Heathcliff's. So if this book can only be read as an indictment of gay love (and again, it might be), then Wuthering Heights should be read as an indictment of the counterpart. And both should be read as failing in their quest, because it's hard not to fall in love with either one — twisted as each may be.
Is the love story in the text, or read into it?
R
Carmen Maria Machado's 2019 edition frames the book as a cover-up — real letters between two women, censored by Le Fanu into a vampire story. The frame is her invention; the novella under it is untouched. So: was the vampire the censorship?
M
Look — it might be! I don't know. One thing is true though: calling vampirism censorship is nuts. Vampires are hot, obviously, and so is star-crossed love. If the goal of this book was to douse the flames of love-sans-Y-chromosome with a little blood-sucking, it certainly failed at that.
R
Isaiah Colbert, reviewing that edition, says Machado is both “inventing and excavating” the erotic charge. Which is it?
M
OK: one, I am super amped to read Machado. But two — yea, “inventing,” “excavating.” Maybe. THE LOVE FEELS ALREADY THERE TO ME! I went to Catholic school. Eisegesis, exegesis. No way to really know author intent. What you read is what is there. Books belong to their readers.
R
That last line is John Green's, so the citation's on the record. “[Carmilla is] one of the few self-accepting homosexuals in Victorian or any literature.” That's Nina Auerbach in Our Vampires, Ourselves. Does that match the book you read?
M
OK: yes, yes, yes. That is what is refreshing about Carmilla. I mentioned the sapphic love not being some buried thing we have to squint to see — and yes, that is lovely!
In the app, every speaker keeps one color for the whole book — Laura one ink, Carmilla another — so in the passages where the two of them blur together, you can watch who is talking. In this book, that matters.
Read Carmilla in ChromaticsFree on iPhone and iPad.
The book everyone is rewriting
R
One more, before we leave Machado. The book most new readers now arrive from is Kat Dunn's Hungerstone — last year's bestselling retelling, the whole story moved to 1888 steel money in the Peaks: same carriage crash, same languid guest, appetite where the blood was. The Lesbrary ran two reviews that disagree — one haunted, one wanting more Carmilla on the page. Did you know you were reading the book everyone is currently rewriting?
M
No, I really didn't. My arrival to Carmilla was sideways: about three months ago I started building an app for reading books — public domain classics, huge shoutout to Project Gutenberg — and Carmilla is the 5th book I've finished on my own app, and the 8th I've started. I say the 8th I've started because I'm a famous DNFer. Chromatics has improved that for me — it really has. But it hasn't cured it. And we aren't talking the quit-at-page-75 thing: I re-read Frankenstein this year and DNF'd at three-quarters, quit North and South at two-thirds. Been hung up on Ulysses for months (but that's a whole other thing).
R
What separates the books you finish from the ones you don't? Don't lie — did you read Carmilla because it's short?
M
So I've been trying to figure that out. It isn't just length though! I read Crime and Punishment and Wuthering Heights this year. I crave the weird (Murakami, Shelley), I crave an unexpected ending (Christie, Larsson), and I like a book that captures you the whole way through instead of setting up an ending you saw coming three fourths of the way in.
In any case Carmilla checks all three. Deeply weird, and I genuinely didn't know where it was going until it went there. Finished it within a few days.
And then I googled it afterward, since I had nobody to book club with, and was so happy to learn that everyone else is reading and re-writing this book too.
Did Bram Stoker copy Carmilla?
R
The claim: Dracula is the famous one because Stoker filed the Carmilla off — same story, gender flipped. Buy it?
M
Hmmmm! I haven't read Dracula in a while. My first take is suspicion. I adored much of Carmilla, but ultimately it is a novella that is begging to be novel-length. And so, sure — Dracula is, at the bare minimum, that. Dracula also adds in all sorts of cool Gothic atmosphere we miss out on a little in Carmilla. If Dracula was a woman, would I be even more enthusiastic to read it? Yea, probably. But my first guess is that, yea, maybe Dracula is Carmilla fanfic that finished what the original started.
R
That sounds like a yes.
M
Even still — it seems a little unlikely. I think it's unlikely because even in CARMILLA they make it clear how common the superstitious belief in vampires is in the region. There's already this super rich mythology that Stoker, like Homer before him, snagged a piece of and wrote down.
R
Except: Stoker's own cut story, “Dracula's Guest,” has a beautiful countess in a marble tomb — “Countess Dolingen of Gratz, in Styria” — with an iron stake driven through it. And his working notes first set Dracula in Styria, Carmilla's province, before he moved it to Transylvania. Still just the shared folklore?
M
Honestly that's lit. I guess we always assume that statements like “Dracula is an extended-cut fanfic of Carmilla with a gender-swapped cast” are too good to be true and better left unquestioned. But just like the “superstition” about the oupire turned out to be warranted in Carmilla, I should have trusted my gut on this one too.
Could Laura even consent?
R
Rae X. Yan reads the book as intimate partner violence — Laura's “my energies seemed to fail me” as consent failing, the book's “artful courtship” as grooming. What do you say to her?
M
Honest answer? It's a really worthwhile question to ask, and I'm not sure. This is the part of the book where I trust my own read the least.
R
What makes you unsure?
M
Laura. Her discomfort is real — but the book never tells you which kind of discomfort it is. And it sparks this memory: Buck Mulligan in Joyce? Based on a friend of his, if I recall, who I think actually did turn out to be romantically interested in James… no — it wasn't Buck. It was some other guy — the one Stephen is always having memories of.
R
Cranly — drawn from his friend J. F. Byrne. Though the romance seems to be Joyce's invention; Byrne married, and stayed a friend for life.
M
Right! Cranly. For anyone who hasn't read Joyce: Cranly is Stephen's very, very close friend — but Cranly wants to be more than a friend. Stephen is bound head-to-toe in repression and religiosity, so who knows for sure what he wants. But as far as we can tell, Stephen isn't gay — so the advance is (at least mostly) unwanted.
The point is: close intimate friendship is OFTEN threatened by the possibility of romance. And Laura? She seems to find her companion very beautiful. She clearly enjoys the intimacy — playing with Carmilla's heavy hair, and so on. But that doesn't mean she's gay. She might not be. At one point she even gets excited by the idea that Carmilla might be a young suitor in disguise, courting her. Which tells you two things: Laura can't even imagine desire between two women as a real possibility — and she's fantasizing about being courted by Carmilla anyway. So the question under my question is: is Laura into the advances, and uncomfortable because they're forbidden? Or is she not entertaining them at all — this is her friend — and they're truly unwanted? Which, I'll admit, is a bit of a digression from what Rae is actually asking.
R
So: predator or not?
M
Idk. Rae — you can make that argument. My general sense is that Carmilla is no predator — at least not in the sense you're arguing for. But that doesn't mean it's not so. Different readers could experience her differently.
Do the men protect anyone?
R
Isabel Panadero writes that the two father figures “are incapable of protecting the women they are supposed to.” Too hard on the fathers?
M
Hmmm. I mean, they are kind of useless, no doubt. I want to be sympathetic to the General — he did lose a daughter to her — but he baselessly killed a woman without any sort of trial. And there is ample evidence throughout history of killing women for all sorts of things. Salem witch trials, etc.
R
Give me the no-vampire version of events.
M
A mourning father's daughter dies of tuberculosis. He goes mad with his own mourning and superstition, and he ends up killing his friend's daughter's best friend — with the help of her father. So yea… they are far from protecting anyone. Bertha is dead. Carmilla is dead. Laura's poor soul is dead, and, as before, she has no companion.
R
As before?
M
Laura starts the book lonely — her sole desire is to find a bosom friend.
R
Bosom friend. We were talking about Frankenstein earlier and I think you used that same word.
M
Yes! Walton! The lonely captain whose letters open Frankenstein. Funny how that romantic-era friendship always reads homoerotic, even when it isn't meant to be romantic. Here, I think it probably is. Doesn't that just make you want to give your best friend a kiss though!
What did the fear cost? The ending of Carmilla
R
Last one. Amira Shokr reads the book by way of Foucault — the repression is the monster, intimacy something people “touch but rarely experience to its fullest.” Where does that leave you?
M
I haven't read enough Foucault to agree or disagree, but I love the idea. And yea — repression is a monster. I felt no joy at the (spoiler) death of Carmilla. The fear of a beautiful woman killed that woman and left us with what? No Bertha? No Carmilla? No joy — we all loved her!
So you could read it that way — if you blamed the bodies piling up on malaria or tuberculosis, which is entirely plausible. In a world of many things to fear, we fear most the thing we actually love. Yeesh.
Quick answers
Do Carmilla and Laura kiss in the book?
Yes. On the cheek and hands — “with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses.” Never once as an acknowledged kiss between lovers.
Does Carmilla actually love Laura?
Her declarations are the book’s most fervent — “You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever” — and the same speech promises Laura’s death: “you shall die—die, sweetly die—into mine.” Whether that is love or appetite is the argument this page is having.
Is Carmilla queer-coded?
Not coded — overt. “I have been in love with no one, and never shall,” she whispers to Laura, “unless it should be with you.” What the overtness is for is where readers split.
Did Carmilla have a male lover?
One, in life: Baron Vordenburg’s ancestor was, “in very early youth… a passionate and favored lover of the beautiful Mircalla, Countess Karnstein.” His grief preserved her tomb; his papers are what end her.
How did Carmilla become a vampire?
The Baron explains in the final chapter: a suicide, under certain circumstances, becomes a vampire; that specter visits the living, who die and, in the grave, develop into vampires. “This happened in the case of the beautiful Mircalla, who was haunted by one of those demons.”
How long is Carmilla?
About 28,000 words — a prologue and sixteen chapters; under two hours for most readers. Public domain, free at Project Gutenberg, and featured free in the Chromatics catalog.
Is Carmilla a difficult read?
No — short chapters, Laura’s clear voice, about a fifth of Dracula’s length. Choosing between the two? The case for Carmilla first has its own page.
Which Carmilla should you read? The short answer
| Edition | What it actually is | Read it if |
|---|---|---|
| The original, 1872 | Le Fanu's full text, serialized 25 years before Dracula. Public domain — featured and free in the Chromatics catalog, all seventeen chapters. | You want what Laura actually wrote down. |
| The Machado edition, 2019 | Lanternfish Press, illustrated by Robert Kraiza. Le Fanu's novella wrapped in a deliberately forged scholarly frame — an invented scholar (Dr. Jane Leight), invented letters (Veronika Hausle's), an invented trial (Marcia Marén's). | You want the argument about the book staged inside the book. Know the frame is fiction going in; plenty didn't. |
| Union Square Signature Editions, 2026 | The original text, new — a trade paperback August 4, then a gilded hardcover September 1 that adds Le Fanu's The Room in the Dragon Volant. | You want it new — paper now, gilded in September. |
The long answer — nine editions, three audiobooks, and exactly what the Machado introduction invents — is its own page: every Carmilla edition, compared.
- Notes. Published August 2, 2026. Le Fanu and Stoker quotations checked against Project Gutenberg #10007 and #10150; critics quoted from the essays linked in place.
- Plates. Félicien Rops (Rijksmuseum), Charles Meryon and A. Fays (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, open access).
- Annexes. Every edition, compared · The Dracula question · Carmilla & Hungerstone · and elsewhere in the library, Wuthering Heights.