It seems that everywhere I turn, I see women reading Twilight, and from what I've heard, it isn't a very good book, and the movie is even worse, but it's being nominated for MTV movie awards. Clearly, it's not literary talent that is making a mediocre story into a cultural icon. The reason isn't the book but the character. Chicks dig vampires.

Guys usually aren't huge vampire fans; they like science fiction. With science, magic, or mutation, the protagonist overcomes challenges and conquers his environment. Mythically, the sci-fi hero is a knight or magician dressed in more modern clothes. This is an old story, and its fantastic setting allows for enough escapism to let the reader or viewer truly imagine himself in the heroic role.

In contrast, the vampire is either a villain or an anti-hero. And the anti-hero is such an attractive figure. From Batman to Wolverine to House to countless others, men and women alike are drawn to the flawed yet noble creature that is the imperfect hero. The badass with countless names, the anti-hero is easier to cheer for than the perfect hero, because even if we don't share his flaws, we share his imperfection. His flaws make him the underdog, even when he is the most powerful character in the story. His own greatest enemy is himself, and, in a twisted way, this makes him seem humble, even when he announces or displays his superiority. He's the tough guy with sensitive core in a world where most men appear decent while hiding the douchebag inside.

The vampire is more and less than human, a parasite drawn to the vitality of others, and even this parasitic quality can be attractive. He is someone who will wither away to dust without the blood of his victim, usually a woman, and his dependency makes him a vulnerable sort of monster, a villainous little child that needs only the love and life of that very special woman. Other monsters attack because they're evil or mindless; the vampire attacks only because he thirsts for human warmth. In the words of punctured women everywhere, “He only sucks my blood because he loves me.”

Ultimately, though, it is the vampire's power of seduction that makes him so attractive. There's the obvious oral quality, the kiss on the neck that is more intimate than sex. And yes, the vampire is very much a symbol of sex, but a certain kind of sex, the kind that we publicly vilify and privately long for. The vampire is the full descent into desire, the unrestrained, all-powerful urge for life to stave off the pains of death. It is amoral, socially repugnant, but so incredibly attractive. Here is a character that can overwhelm restraint and decorum, someone who can let his victim release all barriers and fall guiltlessly into rapture. He offers his victim all excuses to dissolve into decadence and hedonism.

It's easy to think that this type of domination and manipulation would be repellent, but it isn't, because the victim, in the fantasy at least, is not totally passive. She gets to show her trust, her passion, and her eagerness for adventure. It is her nobility and ability to sacrifice herself that lets the story happen.
She is the one who decides to let the story continue. I don't know if this willing passivity is an honest benefit of the submissive role, or a fantasy invented to mitigate the suffering of being controlled by others. Maybe one day my muse will tell me.

History, society, and maybe biology have created a true darkness in our souls, and the vampire is actually a rather tame portrayal of one of our deepest desires: to savor both life and death in the same intimate embrace.