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LESTAT ON INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE MOVIE
13:27 Jul 15 2005
Times Read: 629


To Anne Rice

A Personal Statement by

the Vampire Lestat

Regarding the Novel

Interview With The Vampire



On October 8, 1994, I finally got round to reading your novel, "Interview With The Vampire."



The book is, I am told, a worldwide success, but, as you know, the world has never interested me that much, and I have better things to do at bedtime than sit and read. When I think of all the novels recommended to me over the last two hundred years, I shudder at the hours I wasted ib Mr. Stoker, with his quaint "effects," or that vulgar little tramp Mary Shelley.



But a few days ago, still recovering from my exertions at Milan fashion week, I spent the night in the company of your prose.



I am making this personal statement now for my victims, and for myself. It's not a news story. I paid for the space. O.K., I had to rip a couple of throats along the way, but you know publishing.



What I have to say is this:



I loved your book. I simply loved it. I read it to a couple of naval recruits, and they loved it, too. It surpassed my maddest expectations, although personally I would have cut back on the adjectives a teeny bit. But I was honored and stunned to discover how faithful this novel was to the spirit, the content, and the ambience of my life. I was moved by your poignant sympathy, and touched by the good sense with which you banished the old mirror-and-garlic stuff. I mean, I have the sign of the cross on the front of my *car*. Having said that, I noticed you still buy all that crap about white faces, leeched lips, etc. Wake up, honey. Has Clinique not reached New Orleans, or what? And I know you think the books are "really" about guilt and suffering, and the plight of the outsider, but what did you expect me to do? Get married? Let me tell you, outside is a fun place to be. For one thing, I like to watch.



But these are just quibbles. Basically, I'm one lucky immortal. Anne, you are great. I wish every pansexual bloodsucker could know the happiness you gave to me. I love you for it. And I hope and pray, for our sake, that you never meet me.



And now I have a confession to make. I adored the first book so much that I went and bought the sequels, and I loved them, too. I loved their stamina, their restless intensity. And my undead friends in Hollywood tell me that a motion picture is on the way. At last! It must be *years* since I first made those polite enquiries. Never had much time for movies myself, not since von Stroheim died. But some while back, deep in my usher-and-bellhop phase, I spent an evening at the pictures, and there onscreen was this juicy little piece called Cruise, and I thought, *yes*. If anyone ever wanted to play me--no, to become me--it would be that boy. I'm so moved that somebody was kind enough to take an old vamp's advice.



So, did you see the movie? In a theatre, or only on tape? I hear you couldn't get to the screening because of a blood-related problem. Love it.



If I'm wrong, if you don't like the picture--let me know. Laugh in my face. Write me letters. Call me. I have to stick my neck out and say your book is great, and I'm sure the movie is great, too. Do forgive me if I skip the premiere; I have some travelling plans that can't be put off. As I always say, if you're destined to roam the earth for the rest of time, you might as well make a party of it--you know, really *roam*. It's so simple these days; who needs coffins in the hold when you can fly to Europe overnight and still arrive in the dark? I always travel Virgin myself. The stewards taste so fresh.



All my love to you,



Lestat

LETTERS FROM LESTAT PART IV
13:22 Jul 15 2005
Times Read: 631

Hello. How intriguing to return to see that once again another has taken my name and posted here. How flattering. How completely dull and uninteresting his letter was, and I must wonder; is this what I am to you? So utterly arrogant and without substance. I had not thought it, but perhaps that is what I have become, what it _all_ has become. Void of life and meaning. Empty words on a page.



Yes, this gave me pause. How could it not?



But enough about that. I am not here to contemplate the mental stability of the author, or complain and bitch about the mortal player and his wild streak of sudden creativity. I am a proud fiend. Let me bow to his feet and give my thanks.



After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, isn't it?







But onto the news of the day.







Vampire boys and girls, lean closer and let me bring glee to your pale faces while I say this. Another writer has entered the colessuem, one borne to me and eager to make his place in the literary world. For years now, it was the newest of our kind that sought to make history. Books. Films. The tell-tale autobiography that almost was but has since been abandoned by my newest fledgling. Still, he holds fast to the pen and on more than occasion I have heard of his passionate nights wrought with writing and deep contemplation.



It is old news now, but David seeks to record his story, or rather some deep dark forsaken _meaning_ to his creation. Whether or not I will be included in this half-baked novel is still a mystery.



To be sure, this new book will not be the awful truth, nor the tell-all sort that seems to empassion our kind now and then. It is a story. I reckon David has become quite the romantic in his old age and seeks to frantically record and place the past into some coherent order. Something to be studied, dissected and destroyed.







He claims that Rio de Janeiro drove into his very soul the desire to write. We all have our reasons, I suppose and Rio has been known to inspire. But whether it be the desire to twist the past into a little readable tale of mystery or intrigue, or to lose himself in the illusion of belonging to the mortal world, he is writing.







And so is Louis.







Which brings me to my next tidbit of news. Like the colorful newspapers on the shelfs with their vicious gossip, I come to you not in your dreams, but in the virtual world of Electronic Make-Believe to tell you that indeed, Louis is writing again and wishes to cross the line between truth and fiction once again.



I have not read what he has written. I refuse to read what he has written. I haven't the desire to stomache again the angst and slobbering seniments that lit the page of his first written declaration of our kind.







Did you know that he had written before? Away from the hustle and bustle of the world of print and publishers? His little tale is stowed away in the petit house of his ghost. A lovely woman she is, if not a little too mild and shy for my tastes. A lovely creature you are, Mademoiselle and you needed worry about my showing up on your doorstep demanding to know why you wrote such a strange and intriguing mix of fact and fiction. I know. I know why you did it.







I know everything.







The early morning I met this ghost of his, she glimpsed me only for a moment. A brief instant in time and I watched the emotions play on her face. Fear, disbelief... fear from the one who had listened night after night to the rustle of Louis's long coats and quiet voice soberly relating to her the events of our middle years together.







I'll end this now, hoping it finds it's way to you, Sharon. These days one never knows.





L.

LETTER FROM LESTAT PART III
13:21 Jul 15 2005
Times Read: 627

Here is some of the information I promised to you.



Marius- Marius, at the age of forty was already a well eduacated scholar and had lived his mortal lifetime in the company of books rather than other men. He is the son of a Keltic woman and a very wealthy Roman citizen. He is, as you may know, a bastard child.



Marius lived his first lifetime in the Roman Empire, somewhere near the year 50 B.C, though he never stayed in one area too long before leaving. Educated in five languages, he was often asked to translate, and perform other scholarly duties. It is this education that brought upon him the, then mortal, Mael.



They met in a tavern, in the Roman Gaullic city of Massila, while Marius was writing, as he often did, in one of the numerous textbooks he had aquired. He has hundreds of these little books. The number used to be much greater but many of them were destroyed in the Grand Canal villa in Venice, in the attack. You do know what attack I am reffering to.



Because he was so well traveled, Blonde, with blue eyes,(The very marking of the Keltoi) and strong built,Marius was the choice for the sacrifice of the God in The Grove. However, it was not only his physical nature that made him the obvious choice.



Marius could go down into Egypt, He could read and write.



After he had been gived the blood, repeatedly by the God In The Grove, Marius escaped The Feast of Samhain ritual ceremony and traveled to many, many cities of the Roman Empire. In these cities, Pergamon, Athens, he searched for others of his kind, other vampires that could help him understand the enormousity of The Gift. It wasen't until he reached Alexandria that he searched out the Elders, a group of very old ones who had been partailly destroyed.



I do not remember if I explained the reason these immortals were nothing more than blackend things, things with no flesh, but rather seemed to be made of thick ashes and gleaming slits that were eyes.



I will tell you now.



Marahet had found Akasha, in the shrine of those who must be kept. She had pierced the heart of the Queen and stirred a force that had been dormant for many ages. This occured BEFORE the renevants took the Goddess into the sun, Before Marius had even been turned. So as these renevants, disciples of Khayman, took her into the sun, she was already coherent, not having "lapsed back" as Marius would say. She was the one who destroyed these Elders. And it is my beliefs that she did this to show her power, to make it know that she, Akasha, could not be defeated. It was a lesson, this pyre of the old ones, that she not be disturbed again.



Of course then she found Marius, and the rest you know.



While Marius tended to Those Who Must Be Kept, years later in the fifteenth century, he spent those days away from the shrine, in Venice Italy, taking up the passion of art he'd derived from those days in Alexandria, the images that he had seen in the libraires of the Egyptian city were kept close to his thoughts, and it was inevitable really, that he should pick up a paintbrush one day, and begin to recreate these images the way he would like to see them.



You see cherie, every immortal feels the need to create others, and Marius, dedicated to his oen cause, would not surcumb to this desire. The way he created was through his paintings, through the art that ruled his existence for the next century.



This passion for artistry eventually led to his desicion to adopt others, young children who captured his affection. And this is how, and why, The Vampire Armand came to be.



He found Armand, then Armadeo, in a monastary near the Grand Canal. only a few miles from his villa there, and apprenticed the boy, not based on the child's talent, or skill, but on his physical appearance, the details can be found in the books.



What was done to Armand in that brothel is unknownst to me, though I know his suffering was deep. But that is another story, one that will be documented soon,



Armand was "created" in 1483, by Marius.



The attack that is scrawled, rather boyishly across the pages of my autobiography took place in 1590, over a century later. Led by Santino, a very old, but not powerful vampire from Italy, (Documentation of him still to come) and his/the Roman Coven.



Marius was thought to have died by the pyre, but in reality fell into the canal, extinguishing the flames that tore at his garments, and fled to the Shrine of Those Who Must Be Kept, badly burned. He remained there for centuries, having drunk the blood of Akasha, never Enkil, to heal.



It is here that he met Pandora.



But the rest of this must wait. I hope this has helped your cause, or at least provided you with intersting reading. There is more, and it will come.



I look forward to your reply Madmosielle,



Lestat de Lioncourt



April 1995.

LETTER FROM LESTAT....PART II
13:20 Jul 15 2005
Times Read: 628




You ask many things, most importantly you ask how I came to know Anne, It's a rather interesting story.



As I am sure you know, Mme Rice has lived in New Orleans for most her life, on First St. She is activily involved in many projects, mostly community oriented, and was a well known author even before the first chronicle was released. She had submitted several of her articles and short essays to many of the local papers and while I knew nothing of her writings, a young lawyer of mine did.



I was yet to discover that this author was the very same one whom Louis had hired to assist him with ITV, though it wasen't Louis who made the actual arrangements, How could he? He knew nothing of the modern world, never mind the business aspect of it all.



And so John Thomas, my current lawyer at the time came to me with Mrs. Rice's name. And I'll admit, I rather liked the idea of her, after all it was she who turned ITV into a smash hit. Of course Monsieur Molloy wrote the original text, Louis may be many things but a writer? No. SO when John came to me with Anne's credentials, I found her more than competent for the job.



Of course Anne and I have met, I attend each and every one of her Balls on Hallow's Eve, Have you heard of them? It's really a masterful event, immortals and mortals alike donned in costumes and white make-up. I'd like to say it is the charitable aspect that brings me back year after year, but let's face it cherie, I've never been one to turn down a chance to flaunt my preternatural form have I?



Anne's belief in the supernatural has certainly increased since 1980, I assure you of that.



Ah...Memnoch, the final chronicle. What would you like to know? Who is Memnoch? He is a devil, and a nasty one at that. The novel centers around me (surprised?) and involves an offer from this Memnoch that I cannot refuse, though I pretend to concider it, as you might expect. It was the same with James' offer. Impossible really, to not take it up.



The original title was to be "OF HEAVEN AND HELL" and in my opinon. that is as it should have stayed. I believe it emcompasses this book far greater than "Memnoch" does.



Finally Pandora,



I see you have sone your research Madmosielle. Yes, Pandora was a renevant, reincarnated from vampirism into a mortal femme, and yes, she did plead for the Dark Gift again, harrassing Marius until he finally gave in at the foot of the shrine of Those Who Must Be Kept.



But as many of us do, after one lifetime, she began to regret her descion and drew into herself, away from the rest, Santino, and eventually even her beloved Marius.



She went into the ground for an entirity of 100 years



When she rose, she traveled across great spans of lands, searching for Marius, but he was with Armand at the time and in Venice with his apprentices, Because of the common blood they shared, finding him proved to be an impossible feat, and eventually she gave up, retreating into the mountains, dissapearing, as so many of us do.



At the present time she is in Egypt, with Marius, though I doubt they will ever, as you say so elequently, find each other,



One last question, Why is information on Armand so sparse? Would you like help there as well? In the images I have pulled fron his mind I have some idea of his past, in Russia and in Venice with Marius, working under him as an apprentice.



I thank you for your interest and prompt response.



L.



April 1995

A Letter From Lestat...
13:17 Jul 15 2005
Times Read: 630

To Unknown Person...



I'm regreful in informing you that I never had the chance to read the mail that you sent, though I did see that you had sent it. Frankly, I am surprised you bothered with me at all, but also very, very pleased.



You see , Madame Rice tends to get credit for the novels, the public just isn't going to take it well if I were to reveal myself to them. But the truth is, as I believe you asked this question, that the novels are written by me and sent to Mme Rice's editors for a going-over. The finnished product, par example, Memnoch The Devil, then reaches the stores and is eaten up by the fans.



Ah, Memnoch. I assume you've heard about the new novel, the 5th and final of the chronicles? It has been completed, and set to be released mid September. I believe the actual date is September 15th. Though what impact this book will have on the community, mortal and immortal alike, I can't say. I hope whatever it is, it doesn't turn out like that infernal film. (You have seen the motion picture of ITV) How Louis let the rights of his documentation slip into the hands of that sleazy Hollywod producer is beyond me. All I will say about the new novel is this: It is different from my past three, and somewhat similar to Louis' attempt at a book. It is the future of the immortals, Marius, David (A huge surprise for the fans here) and moi. Though it is a very good possibility that the novel will be disliked by many Vampire fans, namely the ones who have deemed me a certain way, heroic. The Revelations of Memnoch will stun you,this I will promise, as well as change the face of Vampirism (or at least the public's view of it) forever.



Also, let it be known I hate the title.



I've now seen the Family trees on this homepage, and as always, I am amazed that you've taken the time to create such records. For the most part the information here is accurate, but some parts are a little sparse. Armand for example. You have documented well his time with Marius, but what about his life before becoming his apprentice? His time at the villa, in Venice? Personally, I find his time as a boy in Russia far more fascinating, the waif he was, his sister, The Tartars that bore him away..it makes for quite a story.



And finally Pandora.



Though I cannot say that I know this one well, I can offer some information to you. Firstly, she is the only immortal I know of who can truly say that they despise the Gift. I know, I say this all the time, but I never mean it, not really. Pandora lives in a silence, a void of sorts that often leads her into long periods of stillness. She is also, probably the strongest of all the immortals, stronger than Marius even. You'd never know looking at her.



She also loves to play the piano, did I not mention that in a book of mine? And spends hours at the Night Island villa doing so.



Does this make sense to you? This information, I often think things are imoportant when in all truth they mean very little.



Please understand one thing Madame, I don't mean to critize your pages. You know the address, please contact me as soon as it is convienent as I have much more to tell you.



The fact that these letters are turning to essays has not escaped me.



Lestat de Lioncourt



April 1995