Prince Lestat
Vampire Chronicles #11
by Anne Rice
A review, of sorts.
Many moons ago, for my 18th birthday, my mum bought me the complete (at that time) set of the Vampire Chronicles and the New Tales of the Vampires by Anne Rice. This included Blackwood Farm and Blood Canticle, which are now considered part of the Lives of the Mayfair Witches, (depending on who you ask). To say that I was smitten with these larger than life characters would be an understatement. I adored them and the world Rice had built for them, of which ours was but a pale reflection, and I read their stories so many times I lost count.
Fast forward to the beginning of January 2019. I'd known for some time that Anne Rice was still writing novels, and that there were further volumes in the Vampire Chronicles, but for one reason or another I hadn't bothered to seek them out. I couldn't even tell you what prompted me to do so, only that I suddenly had the three new books on order and felt ready for an entire series re-read.
Until it came time to start.
I approached my shelves with trepidation, because of course I have the entire series on display (in order of publication date), and I began trying to decide where to start the process.
'But Emma' I hear you say 'Shouldn't you start at the beginning?'
Well, you see, I would, but I've always disliked Interview with the Vampire, in my opinion it is the weakest one. So it was not even considered.
The question I asked myself was 'should I start with The Vampire Lestat?' But then I thought if I start there I would have to read the Queen of the Damned again, and that's a hard slog.
The first three books were ruled out.
Alright, the Tale of the Body Thief - Ugh no.
Memnoch the Devil - Fascinating story but another hard slog.
Books 4 and 5 dismissed.
The Vampire Armand - I skipped over Armand because I really liked Pandora's story, even though that's breaking into the New Tales of the Vampires, but I thought that I couldn't start with Pandora I should read Blood and Gold first, since Pandora and Marius' stories are so entwined. And nobody likes Merrick.
So I said no to book 6, 7, and 8, plus the New Tales of the Vampires (since Vittorio is inconsequential).
Blackwood Farm - I've always had a soft spot for Tarquin and his insane family, but I just wasn't in the mood to wade through all of the Goblin nonsense.
And of course I couldn't start my re-read with Blood Canticle, the 10th book in the series. So I dismissed them all, and I began to wonder.
Could it be possible that I had outgrown Lestat de Lioncourt, and the Coven of the Articulate? Nonsense!
But it started to make sense.
I have come so far from the romantic adolescent I used to be, and probably more to the point I have read SO MUCH since then (I am a librarian, after all). My horizons have expanded and I have been privy to some truly brilliant writing. And though I will always treasure the series for what it gave me in the past, I fear that I can no longer read Anne Rice's writing through rose colored glasses.
So as I work my way through Prince Lestat, the 11th book in the Vampire Chronicles, I am adrift in bittersweet nostalgia, but these last three books will be my farewell to an old, beloved friend.
Because I have lived too much of a life to ever recover that naive magic.
