You know the whole vampire trend is out of hand when a book called Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter is a bestseller. I recently picked it up. I mean, Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter—it’s right there in the title. What more do you need?
For the record, I’m not a huge fan of vampire lit. OK, I’m a big fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But that has little to do with vampires and everything to do with the awesomeness that is that show. And I read the Twilight series—meh. But this ridiculous mashup of history and fantasy was too good to pass up.
At least in theory.
The concept of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter is awesome. It’s reminiscent of a b-movie from a while back that was likely a decade too early—Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter. The idea of our 16th president secretly wielding an axe and taking down bloodsuckers is just too good. Unfortunately after 336 pages it starts to lose its luster.
How many times can you blame Lincoln’s dark history on vampires and have it not be completely predictable? [spoiler alert] His mother—killed by a vampire. His son—killed by a vampire. John Wilkes Booth—he’s a vampire. By the time that assassination comes along it’s all ho-hum. Perhaps 336 pages of Lincoln as vampire slayer is too much.
But it would have made an awesome comic book. Apparently Tim Burton is going to make the movie.
This is probably taking the book way too seriously, but it’s a little depressing that we have to blame some of the world’s greatest injustices—from slavery to the holocaust—on vampires. It’s understandable that we’d want to find a scapegoat like the undead rather than face the reality that regular people did these things. Escapism is a little easier than reality.
Taking it too seriously? Yeah. Though Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter is deadly serious. (sorry, couldn’t resist that one)