Chapter I

I most likely will not be writing an entry on every chapter, but it is only natural that the most questions and personal ideas about a text pop up during the first few pages.

I was faced with a surprise on the very first page of the book, and I am still not sure if it is a pleasant one or not. I had always assumed the story would be told from the point of view of Dracula himself, following him along through his days of endless blood-sucking and cryptic ventures. When I realized that it was a journal entry of a real-estate agent, I was somewhat disappointed. The fact that I had never even heard of a Jonathon Harker in my life and the only character of the story I had been familiar with was Dracula himself was probably the reason it was so unexpected. I'm guessing I was disappointed because it does not seem like I will be in the center of the action or it might not be as interesting or something. I'm not so sure if I am thrilled about the style journal entries that formulate the book, either. It seems like this might create the feeling for me of dancing or tip-toeing around the central issue, when I think I would much rather dive headfirst into the matter at hand. There is only one way to find out if my predictions are true or not, though, and that is to continue reading.

The first question that crept up on me in my reading was that of Harker's motivations. What was the big deal? I mean, I understand he wants to make a buck, but really I don't think that if the entire town was blessing me and holding up crosses with their fingers at me I would feel very compelled to continue with my journey. That might create a bit of hesitance in anyone else, would it not? Nevertheless, he pushes on, and I'm looking forward to seeing whether or not there are other motives or stronger reasons as to why he did not back out of the whole ordeal.

The part of this chapter that really hit home for me was his trek by carriage through the countrysides of Europe. The descriptions of the homey inns and the beautiful landscapes and mountains made me quite eager to do some traveling of my own. Stoker does a great job of describing the sights appealingly when they're meant to be appealing and frighteningly when they're meant to be frightening. At one point in particular (pg. 37-38), the idea is for the imagery to be foreboding, and I read it with that sense the first time around. But I found myself stopping afterward to take an objective view on it and re-reading it. "Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel... It grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery snow began to fall, so that soon we, and all around us were covered with a white blanket." I imagined it looking something like this:

and I felt a sudden urge to be there on that carriage with Jonathan Harker, despite the obvious impending doom.