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THE CLASSICS

Reading builds a fascinating world around us as we move from sentence to sentence and go even deeper, exploring the world of literature. Some might call this a journey, as each book acts as a stepping stone that brings us closer to the path we need to take. Masterful prose, timeless themes, and memorable characters are the reasons why classic literary works endure for generations. In their pages we find lessons and themes that are intertwined with the people and their life experiences. They awaken our imagination and allow us to experience different places, time periods, triumphs and struggles through the lens of a multitude of characters. There is a reason, then, why the stories of these classic books are read again and again over the centuries and are constantly adapted to new circumstances. Let’s not forget that they were all written in their own time. We are used to reading about the times only through historical events and history itself can sometimes seem black and white and one-dimensional.The classic books add colour and depth to it.They show exactly how people lived during those times. Times that would be difficult to approach or even relate to if there were no books to illuminate the intricate paths of the daily lives of the people who lived back then. Seeing –through these books– different time periods gives us a new perspective through which we can understand and judge our place in the world. It allows us to reflect on how our contemporary books may look back on us and what our contemporary books will say about us to future generations.

The debate about what makes certain books “classics” never ends – is it longevity, popularity, literary merit, or all of the above? Are all books we consider “classics” worthy of that title? Should some lesser-known books be considered “classics”? There are no safe answers to these questions, and opinions about which classic books should be read by everyone will always differ. In his book Why Read the Classics? the Italian writer Italo Calvino considered classics to be “books which, the more we think we know them by reputation, the more original, unexpected and innovative we find them to be when we actually read them”. A classic book must have stood the test of time and address issues that are still relevant and universal today. And there are so many of them: from coming-of-age stories to wonderful romance tales, and from fantasy literature to science books that changed the world. In the new The Classics series you’ll find a variety of books that are nonetheless a good starting point, covering a wide range of literature from different time periods and genres. There really is something for everyone.

DRACULA

by Bram Stoker

EDITED BY Christina

Theocharis

COVER DESIGN

DESKTOP PUBLISHING LaSid

PUBLISHING DIRECTOR Nikos Chatzopoulos

Brainfood Digital Media and Publishing M.E.P.E. 28 Empedokleous Str., 12131 Peristeri, Athens, GREECE Tel.: +30 210 2514123, Email: contact@brainfoodmedia.gr www.brainfood.gr

March 2025

ISBN: 978-618-5903-14-5

All rights reserved. No portion of the book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

Introduction

Dracula was first published in 1897. It was mainly written in the form of diaries and journals by the key characters of the book: Jonathan Harker, who made the first contact with the vampire Count Dracula; Wilhelmina (“Mina”) Harker, Jonathan’s wife later in the book; Dr. John (“Jack”) Seward, a psychiatrist; and Lucy Westenra, Mina’s friend and Dracula’s victim who herself becomes a vampire. The story is this: a Transylvanian vampire who, with his supernatural powers, makes his way to England and starts to turn innocent people into his victims in order to gain the blood on which he survives. Led by Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, Harker and his friends, after many sinister encounters and terrifying adventures, are at last able to destroy Dracula. Dracula has become immensely popular in Western popular culture and has had many adaptations for film, television, and the stage.

Chapter I

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL

(Kept in shorthand)

3 May. Bistritz. – Left Munich at 8:35 p.m. on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6.46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh. Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Mem., get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and he said it was called “paprika hendl,” and that, as it was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians. I found my smattering of German very useful here; indeed, I don’t know how I should be able to get on without it.

Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the library regarding Transylvania; it had

BRAM STOKER

hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.

It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier – for the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina – it has had a very stormy existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I found, to my great delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress – white undergarment with long double apron, front, and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said, “The Herr Englishman?” “Yes,” I said, “Jonathan Harker.” She smiled, and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirtsleeves, who had followed her to the door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter: –

My friend, – Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina: a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you

DRACULA

to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

Your friend, DRACULA.

4 May. – I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled out 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, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask any one else, for 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 excited 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 did not know at all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I told her that 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 again: