Bella stands in front of a vintage mirror taking a photo. In the background is the Pharmacy museum which was filled with old medical paraphernalia of the 19th century.
Hiding under the covers. Hiding under the covers is where I find my comfort in a time of distress, fear, and most importantly when I find something scary. Well, for three days of the trip, I find myself hiding under the covers and clinging on to our second novel, Interview with The Vampire by Anne Rice. As I lay protected by the warm sheets of the hotel bedding, I wince and writhe as Lestat makes his next calculated kill. These tales are somewhat of a mystery to me as I have neglected to indulge in such genre of writing. I had always found it obscure and not to my liking as one could not fathom to imagine the world in which these creatures lived. It is obscure and mysterious, unlike life in my small beach town back home.
Upon arriving in the setting of Interview with The Vampire, it does not take long for me to realize the inspirations that Anne Rice drew upon for her novel. In fact, it is hard to ignore the eerie and hair prickling feelings that you get when you enter the French Quarter of New Orleans. As you pass through the hustle and bustle of Bourbon Street in the daytime, it seems a perfectly normal tourist attraction. Laughter and smiles fill the faces of those surrounding you, a comforting place to be.
An alter to the Papalegba is covered in offerings, jewelry and alcohol. Papalegba is said to be the gatekeeper to the afterworld. He is always pictured as a sweet old man and is paired commonly with St. Peter.
As you step further into the French Quarter and wander away from Bourbon Street and truly dig into the quarter outside of the bustling alleys, you find yourself in a setting of Anne Rice’s novel. Down one street you are engulfed by vintage tales of the past. You see a VooDoo museum that details the curse after curse that someone could procure during the 19th century. On the other side you have the old Pharmacy museum. Two floors filled with vials of distinct powders, serrated tools that would be inserted into a patient's body, lobotomy aids, anything that would make the average human feel bombarded by a cold gust of the unnatural. Down another street you hit the jackpot; vampires. Vampire boutiques, vampire restaurants, a man who will chisel your teeth into fangs, an alcoholic concoction in the form of blood, a whole ghastly array that plunges you directly into Anne Rice’s world.
While approaching these landmarks in the daytime can give you a feeling of uneasiness, it is only when the sun slips below the horizon that you can get a taste of the setting that Anne Rice’s two vampires, Lestat and Louis, experienced on a nightly basis. When nightfall rushes in like an unsuspecting ghost, the whole city gets flipped upside down. Instead of smiles and laughter down Bourbon Street you are greeted by creatures that you believe were once human not more than a few hours ago. These creatures who are overtaken by the sweet temptation of liquor and luminous bar lights. They all of a sudden become possessed. They are no longer in control of their own bodies. Their mouths ramble heinous things at one another, they stumble through the cobblestone streets, their clothing transforming from a curated ensemble to a disheveled costume doused in the scent of absinthe.
Cornstalk Hotel stands basked in the night light and lit up by the occupants inside. This hotel is positioned right next to the Andrew Jackson Hotel which is said to be haunted by five young boys that died tragically when they were unable to escape a fire.
In order to obvert your gaze and to hide from their empty eyes, I look up. My vision is greeted with the French architecture that resides on each house front of these streets. The iron work is delicately crafted in each and every balcony. Each fleur de lis distinct feature silky smooth and the gentle designs jutting from the corners of the awning. The iron work provides a sort of regality that is both untouchable yet comforting. Each and every home is fit for a King, or in Anne Rice’s case an elegant and poised vampire. I can imagine Lestat and Louis standing on a balcony, protected by the fleur de lis drinking their glass of wine, or at least appearing to be a glass of wine to onlookers and assessing their next target. I can understand how their nightly activities could go unnoticed in the midst of these humans turned creatures at dusk. For as Anne Rice writes,
“ ‘Never in New Orleans had the kill to be disguised. The ravages of fever, plague, crime – these things competed with us always, and outdid us.’ ”
It is not until I really was able to look around and examine this city and dismantle each cobblestone piece by piece until you are able to understand Anne Rice’s writing. The creatures of the night that terrorize you and make you long for home. The possibilities of VooDoo and ghosts around every corner leave you fearful each step you take. The possibility that you may just be greeted by Lestat and Louis. Or the painstaking fear that these characters were based on true characters that roam these streets at nightfall. Characters that pray on the incapacitated and innocent, sucking them of their lives, their virtue, their wealth. These shady creatures that lurk under the radar and are undiscovered because of the ravages of fever, plague, and crime that flank these streets. For this reason I retreat to my hotel room and find myself yet again protected by the covers, hidden from Anne Rice’s world.