Customer Reviews

The Lair of the White Worm

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(6)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

I've heard two different stories of Bram Stoker's mental state at the time he wrote this book. A review below stated that he was hooked on drugs and another story (and I like this one better) was that he was dying of syphillis when he wrote it.

What this book reminds me of is a bizarre dream where everything makes sense at the time but when you look at it afterwards nothing makes sense. The characters constantly engage in strange behavior with obscure motivations. For example a few characters engage in psychic mind battles over mid-afternoon tea on a regular basis, one character sends solid metal and glass objects to a kite in mid-flight by some unexplained method for no apparent reason, and the evil snake woman sells her house and lair to the hero whom she is also trying to kill and he agrees to buy it because fine china can be made from the clay on her property. I've had dreams like this without drug or venereal disease influence so maybe Stoker just decided to write a dream down without bothering to make sense of it. This gives the book a very surreal feel but causes it to fail as a narrative. I think its worth a look if you want to read something a bit different, but if you want a good, well-plotted story skip this one.

Rarely have I read a book which has so entirely created such an atmosphere of abject horror. No author scares me, none except the master, Bram Stoker. He did it with Dracula and now he does it again with Lair of the White Worm. The evil which permeates throughout this horrible tome is beautiful. I highly recommend this book for anyone who wishes to experience the spawn of hell. A warning to all, this masterpiece has absolutely nothing to do with the movie of the same name. The movie is an atrocious bastardization of this phenomenal tale of horror and should be regarded as such.

Adam Salton, born and raised in Australia, is contacted by his granduncle in England, for the purpose of establishing a relationship between these last two members of the family. Adam travels to Richard Salton's house in Mercia, and quickly finds himself in the center of some inexplicable occurrences.

The new heir to the Caswall estate, Edgar Caswall appears to be making some sort of a mesmeric assault on a local girl. And, a local lady, Arabella March, seems to be running a game of her own, perhaps angling to become Mrs. Caswall. There is something strange about Lady March, something inexplicable and evil.

This book has elements that should make it a gripping story. Unfortunately, the tendency of the characters to move on, after a fantastic event, as if nothing unusual had happened gives the story a disjointed, surreal feel. This story just does not come together, but rambles along to its uninspiring conclusion. I do not recommend this book.

This is indeed one strange little book, but I agree with no less a critic than H.P.Lovecraft when he says that the central idea--that of an ancient serpent who survives into the "modern" 19th century and exerts a malign influence on the living--is a good one. But the execution IS rather poorly done. This is not the masterpiece that is "Dracula," nor even the well-put-together read of "Jewel of Seven Stars." Stoker could have used a good copy editor on this book. For example, in one scene, Mimi, our heroine, thinks to herself that a nutzy character by the name of Caswall is mad, because of the way he has just spoken to her. However, there has been no dialogue or indication of Caswall saying anything up to that point. Numerous other inconsistencies abound, the net effect being one of almost non sequitur, dreamlike surrealism, which is perhaps Stoker's intent but is seemingly sloppy writing nonetheless. The descriptions of the English countryside are impossible to picture, so that you can never really get a mental view of the locale in which the story takes place. Also, the exact relationship between Lady Arabella and the Worm itself is vague at best, as is the significance of Mesmer's chest, and the "stare fights" that the reader below refers to. The book certainly held my interest, short and compact as it is, but after all was said and done, I certainly wanted more in the way of explication and denouement. More scenes such as the one where Oolanga falls down the wormhole would've been nice. So what we have here is a frustrating read, but an engaging one, nonetheless.

I like Dracula. But this is as disjointed and downright strange a novel as I have ever come across. People behave in the most bizarre way, they seem to show no surprise at uncanny supernatural occurrences. What's all that stuff where they sit down and stare at each other? And the end - talk about an anticlimax! Read it. It won't take long. Then tell me what the point was.

I am an avid fan of Bram Stokers works and would heartily suggest this book to anyone who enjoys his writings. A library of his works wouldn't be complete without a copy.

On the other hand, this is arguably his worst work of fiction. It was his last finished novel and his declining mental and physical condition is evident in the disjointed writing style. While I somewhat enjoyed the surreal nature of the work, other readers might become incredibly annoyed by it. I wouldn't blame them either.

To summarize, if you are a fan of Stoker, pickup a copy. If not, you might as well skip it.

It has been said that Ken Russell's 1980s cinematic adaptation of Bram Stoker's "classic", "The Lair of the White Worm", is a travesty of the original, a betrayal of the source material. However, a read of the book in question will in fact reveal that Russell must be some sort of genius to rewrite this thing so that it makes any kind of sense at all.

Our story begins in rural England, though I must say that it's not much like the rural England I remember from my childhood. For one thing, every landmark and citizen appears to live within one hundred feet of each other; this almost claustrophobic aspect of the Less Than Great Outdoors proves a plot point later on when not one, but two, places of residence are blown to smithereens by the same bolt of lightning. Still, they were evil places of residence, so let's not trouble ourselves too much about it.

Our central characters are young Adam Salton, an allegedly dashing Australian, and his pal Sir Nathaniel de Salis, the kind of individual whose immediate reaction upon hearing that a young lord of the realm was staring at a young woman is that this is "a matter of life and death".

The rest of our merry band includes Edgar Caswall, said young lord, whose primary delight in life is flying kites through thunderstorms in a manner that can only be described as Darwinian; Mimi and Lilla Watford, shy blushing young country lasses straight from Central Casting, whose primary role in the proceedings is to engage in inadvertently hilarious staring contests with Edgar; Oolanga, a jaw-droppingly racist caricature of a black man who, since Stoker wants to have his Ku Klux Kake and eat it too, is both manipulative AND stupid; and, last but certainly not least, Lady Arabella March, the White Worm herself, although Stoker can't seem to make his mind up as to whether or not she was originally human and is now possessed by the Worm's spirit (as a flashback by Sir Nate would indicate), or is actually an ancient serpent who has evolved the ability to shape-shift (as everyone eventually concludes).

Evidently, when the forces of Good and Evil are collectively as effective as, well, flying a kite in the middle of a thunderstorm, you can immediately see how the story is going to be problematic. This, however, does not do the book justice. Independent of the characters, Stoker manages to cram in such enormous plot holes that the Worm, were it to really exist, could comfortably dwell inside one of them for many centuries to come. This is a novel where, after the battle lines have been clearly drawn, the deadly enemies STILL keep inviting each other to tea; where two entire chapters are dedicated to a chest that belonged to Mesmer, which turns out to have absolutely no further role to play in proceedings whatsoever; where a villain murders a victim right in front of the hero and then does nothing to stop him telling anyone other than writing him a sternly worded letter. Clearly, we're not in Kansas anymore. I understand they have editors there.

In addition to all this, we're treated to Stoker's thrilling theories about such matters as gender (women are either evil or stupid), mental illness (mad people are just being selfish), and, especially, race relations, upon which everyone in the novel, good and bad, can agree that black people are just naturally inferior. Isn't it nice that they can all put aside their differences in the face of a common cause?

So, yes, all of this contributes to make "Lair of the White Worm" a less than urgent addition to one's book collection. However, I hasten to add that the book, if read as a comedy, is an absolute laugh riot. Keeping that in mind, I shall leave you with my own personal favorite exchange from the novel, one which, I hope, will afford you as much mirth as it did me:

"'...God alone knows what poor Captain March discovered - it must have been something too ghastly for human endurance, if my theory is correct that the once beautiful human body of Lady Arabella is under the control of this ghastly White Worm.'

"Adam nodded.

"'But what can we do, sir - it seems a most difficult problem.'"

I had just finished reading DRACULA (after seeing numerous films I thought it was time I read the book) and was hoping for another good Stoker read with LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM....was I disappointed! The characterizations were weak, insipid immitations of Jonathan Harker, Mina Murray Harker, Lucy Westenra and Dr. Van Helsing, not to mention Lady Arabella/The White Worm, who couldn't begin to compare to Count Dracula! There's a ridiculous subplot where Lilla (derived from Lucy) is needlessly sacrificed, as well as mongooses dying left and right, which was just plain silly!

I'm planning to read JEWEL OF THE SEVEN STARS, hope I have better luck this time!

Allegedly written while the author was going insane, "The Lair of the White Worm" is a fantastic, dream-like narrative whose only saving grace is that there's nothing else like it out there. The plot, if one can call it that, is a maze of myth and pseudo-gothic imagery that, while never the least bit convincing, is somehow irresistible. It is to Stoker's credit that he was able to infuse even a total failure with a mesmeric readability--perhaps he had taken lessons from one his own characters (read the book and you'll get it)! The whole has shades of "Dracula," though none of that work's macabre artistry. Whereas "Dracula" is a frequently subtle, carefully crafted piece of literature which defies the reader to refute its horrors, "Lair of the White Worm" requires so many leaps of faith that it's impossible to achieve any suspension of disbelief. But again, despite its literary deficiciencies, the book inexplicably entertains on a minor level. Amidst the decaying estates through which his characters stumble, the hackneyed romance, the stupefying telepathic duels, the clouds of protective pigeons and the malevolent kite (!)and the gross-out climax in the midst of a raging storm--between all these things are glimpses into a great writer's mind that, to the true devotee of classic horror, might make this book worth buying. Caveat Emptor!

As other reviewers did, I liked the premise of the book (which is in fact why I buy most fiction books). However, a premise is nothing if it's not carried out properly, and Bram Stoker gives us an account of how not to do that. Charachters do all sort of ilogical things, so as visiting the "baddies" for no real reason. The strenght of fantasy and horror novels lies in their ability to make you belief this could happen to you (meaning you have to feel empathic towards the characters and the plot must have logical, even is surprising, turns). This is one thing this book fails to do.