Too tired for an intro this morning, let’s gooo

October 2

Mina writes first today, about how tired and worn out she feels. Apparently she went to see Renfield although all she tells us is that he kissed her on the hand and said “god bless you.” Mina’s been crying about it and is eager to keep her tears from Jonathan.

The boys are all business and leave Mina out. Mina asks Dr. Lobotomy for drugs to help her sleep and he gives her something mild, but she’s still awake and growing nervous about sleeping.

What a mysterious ailment that surely no one would take seriously after what Lucy went through???


Jonathan is excited as he gets a note from Smollett about who to talk to to find out where the other dirt boxes went. He’s worried about Mina and considers sending her home to Exeter.

Jonathan has some difficulty finding his fresh contact because Smollett’s spelling is bad, which I find endearing.

Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4, Poters Cort, Bartel Street, Walworth. Arsk for the depite.

In Potter’s court, Jonathan finds the “depity.”

Stoker really loves spending time with these lower class people, almost as much as I love watching these upper-crust goons try to translate real folk talk.

The deputy reveals that Sam Bloxam has gone to work already and he isn’t sure where he is exactly, but Jonathan sets off with limited information anyway. After several acts of dialect interpretation he meets with Bloxam and is told that he moved nine boxes from Carfax to a house in Piccadilly. He doesn’t remember precisely where, but that it’s close to a new-ish church. A man, description resembling Dracula, helped Bloxam to move the boxes onto the cart.

“Why, ‘e took up ‘is end o’ the boxes like they was pounds of tea, and me a-puffin’ an’ a-blowin’ afore I could up-end mine anyhow—an’ I’m no chicken, neither.”

Dracula was at the Carfax house to move the boxes out, and met Bloxam at Piccadilly to let Bloxam in again. They left all nine boxes in the front hall. Bloxam does describe the house for Jonathan even if he doesn’t remember the number, and Jonathan believes he can find it, and heads to Piccadilly.


Dracula is so deeply a story that takes place in London that I feel at a distinct disadvantage not knowing what any of these directions are telling me, but oh well. I like to think a lot about novels where the city is a character, and frankly I’m bored of stories where the city-character is London or Los Angeles, but I’m not sure if London is a character here, but I do feel like it’s supposed to be.

I guess the idea is that, like Dracula sucked Lucy dry and made her into a monster, so too with Dracula do to London. In which case London, like Lucy and Mina, is a bride, and perhaps their efforts to look after Mina with a veil over her eyes is also how they hope to protect London itself.

Anyway, I want more city-character stories but not about LA or London. Or Tokyo.


Jonathan finds the house in Piccadilly. He snoops around and thinks about contacting the former owner for a way in. He talks to some randos on the streets and someone suggests that he get in touch with the people selling the house—Mitchell, Sons, & Candy.

SIIIGHHHHH this is the group that we heard from in the letter from Arthur yesterday (Oct 1), but I think I neglected to write the name because I didn’t care. So either Arthur is way ahead of Jonathan here (which I doubt) or Stoker fucked up the dates again. So this is the house that Dracula bought “over the counter.”

Jonathan goes to the Mitchell, Sons, and Candy office and talks to a clerk.

Having once told me that the Piccadilly house—which throughout our interview he called a “mansion”—was sold, he considered my business as concluded.

What’s with the “mansion” mention here? Is he implying that the lawyers are overselling it?

Jonathan tries to ask who bought the mansion and finds the clerk unhelpful.

This was manifestly a prig of the first water, and there was no use arguing with him.

I think this is the first rude thing Jonathan has said of anyone but Dracula.

Jonathan gives the guy his card and says he’s acting on behalf of Lord Godalming, and the prig says they’ll send him a letter later. Jonathan counts his blessings and leaves.

Jonathan goes home to Mina who is pale but putting up a strong front. Jonathan swears tonight will be the last night that she suffers being kept out of things before he sends her home to Exeter. He puts her to bed and goes to talk to the fellowship.

Our boy wrote the day’s events down in his diary already, while on the train, so he can recount them easily. Quincey questions how they plan to break into a house in a residential suburb without causing a scene. They decide to wait for the letter from Mitchell’s (which we’ve already seen) and see where to go from there.

Oh, but I am sleepy!

This is exactly the kind of thing I write in my planner.


We switch to Dr. Lobotomy who is keeping a close watch on Renfield, but the guard he put on alert admits that he fell asleep a bit.

While Jonathan was looking around Piccadilly, apparently Arthur and Quincey are preparing horses in case of an emergency, as good cowboys ought. They plan to sterilize all the dirt between the time the sun rises and sets, presumably “tomorrow” the 3rd, as I wrote in my planner that the Dracula Daily for tomorrow is “V LG!!” Meanwhile Van Helsing is checking the British Museum for more folk remedies against witches and demons.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

Later, Dr. Lobotomy accounts for the meeting already mentioned by Jonathan. Dr. Lobotomy finds Renfield’s silence suspicious and wonders if it has to do with Dracula.

He is now seemingly quiet for a spell…. Is he?—— That wild yell seemed to come from his room….


An attendant comes for Dr. Lobotomy to say that Renfield has been in some kind of accident. Dr. Lobotomy and the attendant both heard him scream and the attendant found him, face-down on the floor, covered in blood.


I wonder what comes next?


I could keep reading but I have work to do. Tomorrow my foster cat Scruffy McFluffers has an appointment at the vet for his sad poops. I don’t want to get too depressing about pet health on this blog because I know it can be difficult for people to read about, but rest assured that Scruffy is acting fine, seems to be feeling okay, and might just have IBS. Luckily, thanks to my volunteering and his role as a foster cat, he’ll be looked after in a way I never could have done by myself. Either way, I’m not gonna tell you any bad news here so read without fear. Just please pray that I don’t have to give him more pills because wow, he gets really really mad at me haha.

See you soon, my fellow perverts!

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