Rise From the Crypt and Grasp Hold
Nico Gurdjian
In the hush of the National Library of Ireland, the gloved hands of an Irish pharmacist were searching through faded marginalia. Suddenly Brian Cleary, astonished to see a beloved author's name, unfolded an 1891 advertisement leading to an issue printing of a yellowed short story. Its author: Bram Stoker, famed for the gothic legend Dracula.
Cover art by Edgar Alfred Holloway for the Rider edition of Bram Stoker’s most influential work. | JohnCoulhart
The recovered short story, more than 130 years old is entitled Gibbet Hill, tells of a murdered sailor in Surrey England with eerie children, and graveyard encounters. As it was originally written just before he started on Dracula, it may give an inside look into the beginnings of themes he would later employ for his titled work. A Stoker expert, Paul Murray, told Smithsonian how the short story had effectively disappeared from recorded history. It had not appeared in any archival lists of Stoker's publications nor had any modern scholars known of its existence.
The Dublin Daily Express 1890 printing with the story's first appearance. | NewYorkTimes
The story was released publicly for the first time at a festival in Dublin and it is in the process of being republished in collaboration with Irish artist Paul McKinley. All proceeds from the sales will go to a deafness research foundation to honor Brian Cleary who unearthed the work.
The disappearance of Gibbet Hill raises questions about the fragility of artistic legacy. The rediscovery of a story is a moment when the past refuses to be finished. Bram Stoker is now reborn one hundred years later with words dusted off and reintroduced to academia. So then who decides what lasts? Legacy is not a linear or curated timeline. It is governed by accident or fortune rather than intent, shaped by survival not fame. Stoker's manuscript survived not because it was cherished but because it was misplaced. As a society we are so obsessed with visibility and imminent relevance. But there is a humbling force in the idea that what we leave behind is not revered until after we are gone.
The republished edition's cover. | Goodreads
It's easy to think of legacy as grand. But more often than not, legacy is something we did not think mattered, left behind in a supplement not meant for preservation. It's not deliberate and what we intend to be remembered by isn't what survives. The closest thing to immortality is legacy. Not in the form of statues or accolades, but someone feeling moved enough to see us. A quiet resurrection.
Nietzche introduced the declaration “God is dead” trying to describe the metaphysical certainties in the modern world. Death would lead to a profound crisis where humanity must grapple with the loss of inherent meaning and purpose. Nietzche believed that individuals are compelled to create their own meaning and legacy in the absence of preordained values. Self-creation is an act of the will and the individual must transcend conventional morality to define their own existence.
Central to the large philosophy of Nietzche, is the idea called “eternal recurrence.” It posits that the universe and all of its events are perpetually recurring in an infinite loop. He is challenging the concept that individuals must live as if their actions would be repeated eternally and therefore each moment holds significant effect. Here legacy is not a distant abstraction but literally an immediate ever-present reality.
Ouroboros: a snake swallowing its tail as the symbol for Nietzche’s eternal recurrence, representing the continuous cycle of life, death, and rebirth. | Odin
Although Nietzche and I don't always get along, I obsess over some of his proposals. If our lives are to be lived infinitely then the weight of our actions becomes immense. This might not seem like a comfortable idea, but it helps me puzzle over the idea of legacy. If each decision we make contributes to an everlasting legacy, then I think it helps urge us to live authentically and deliberately. It is then less about being famous enough or making a large enough impact on the world around me, which is generally impossible to do in the modern era; and more about acting in ways that I will eventually be proud of. If time is an illusion, despite the cliché, then the conventional notion of legacy—as something left behind after death—becomes problematic. So legacy must be viewed as a construct within an eternal space where past, present, and future are indistinguishable. I am writing this article now with intention, I love language and shaping it into something lasting. In this version of time, I've written this before, and in another I haven't begun yet. And you, reading this, are too part of that strange continuity. Your presence, here and now, folds into the same loop. This is legacy. Not being just remembered, but being felt across and through and all at once in the past, present, and what comes next.
A clinical pharmacist on an unremarkable week day becomes a stewed of a dead man's whisper. A story meant to vanish does not vanish. And the voice of a writer is heard again. Death is porous and moments aren't minor and here is the soft persistence of attention.
Strike Out,
Nico Gurdjian
Born and raised in Miami, she is studying Psychology/Pre-Med at FIU. She likes creation myths, piano sonatas, puppet shows, and comic books. She dislikes serious letterboxd reviews, Green’s theorem, the Sicilian Defense, and whispering.
