Countess Dracula by Tony Thorne

From The Week of September 17, 2012 cruelty is a force as puzzling as it is pernicious. Capable of ruining lives and cultures with equal ease, it has engulfed entire centuries in blood and war, its ugly urges spelled out in scars that persist to this day. But while its existence is undeniable, its origins are less clear. For humanity is a species built on altruism, on the singular notion that one act of kindness will be returned with interest. It is this very system of positive reciprocity that has built our civilization. This too is undeniable. Where, then, is there room for cruelty in this equation? It seems antithetical to the very ideas that have elevated humanity out of the muck of ignorance. Whatever its origins, its power is tragically clear, a truth demonstrated in Mr. Thorne's biography of one of history's most gruesome figures.

A woman now hopelessly sheathed in legend, Elizabeth Bathory has become a titillating symbol of cruelty. A 16th-century daughter of one of Hungary's most powerful noble families, she has had ascribed to her, by various, contemporary sources, unimaginable acts of brutality which she was said to have salaciously inflicted upon her own female servants. Having reputedly cultivated a small circle of cronish confidantes to execute her fiendish will, she subjected these helpless girls to boiling baths and sadistic floggings which were said to have filled her halls with blood and death. So legendary was she that her cruelties inspired the myth of the heartless mistress bathing in the blood of virgins in order to recapture the beauty of her spent youth.

But who was Elizabeth Bathory? And just how cruel has history been to her? To answer this question, Mr. Thorne, a cultural historian, delves into the histories of both the Countess and the region that birthed her to unearth a handful of tantalizing clues about this most controversial creature. He discovers that, while the Countess was by no means an angel, her deeds were only remarkable for having been authored by a woman. Bathory was a product of a dark, warlike period in European history, one that produced many masculine atrocities. When these crimes are committed by men, Mr. Thorne argues, they are accepted as the deeds of a man shaped by his time. But when a woman wields a knife dripping in innocent blood, then these are not crimes but unforgivable sins that cannot be tolerated.

Charting the political forces that animated Bathory's world, Mr. Thorne makes the convincing case that the Countess' crimes were inflated by men who had every reason to discredit her. For proof, he points to Bathory's perilous position. For while she was undoubtedly one of her realm's most powerful figures, she was a widow with vast estates and near-endless wealth, both of which were coveted by her family and her rivals. With enemies lurking in every corner, waiting only for a weakness upon which to pounce, her downfall was as certain as sunrise. And so, when the abused bodies of dead servants were discovered on her land, and this evidence married to the compelling testimony of a loyal priest who had previously complained about rumors of ill-treatment from Bathory's castle, the means of her demise was assured. She would be devoured by the wolves she could no longer keep at bay.

Though Countess Dracula is at times dry, burdened by a blur of deeds and families that have long-since been pulled down into the depths of history, it is simultaneously a tempered and scholarly reconstruction of the life of a woman of her time. For Mr. Thorne is correct to contend that, if we but thought of Bathory as a man, these awful deeds would be contextualized in the broader life of a tyrant. Any of a hundred men have done no worse than Elizabeth Bathory, but these cruelties are viewed through a more adoring lens. In the Countess' case, her gender makes her unusual, allowing it to play into Christian preconceptions of sinfulness that have helped propel her out of reality and into nightmare. Bathory was undoubtedly brutal, but she is also a reminder that cruelty does not stand alone. It has causes. And if we are willing to recognize this for Tamerlane, then we must also do so for the Countess.

A sober but rewarding analysis of a difficult subject. Mr. Thorne does well with what he has. (3/5 Stars)