The Signal of Another Start*
In June 1970, Dark Shadows was set in a universe other than the one where it usually takes place. The show insisted on calling that other continuity “Parallel Time.”
In the main continuity, mad scientist Julia Hoffman is the friend and enabler of vampire Barnabas Collins. When Barnabas crossed over to Parallel Time, he found that Julia’s counterpart there was as devoted to wicked witch Angelique as the Julia he knew was to him. He made himself Angelique’s enemy, and in #1036 Hoffman was poised over him with a stake and a hammer, ready to destroy him. In the nick of time, Julia arrived from the main continuity and saved Barnabas. She bashed Hoffman’s head in, stole her clothes, and set about impersonating her. When Barnabas first saw Julia in Parallel Time, he thought she was her Doppelgänger, and since she was in his hiding place he was going to kill her. Fortunately for Julia, Barnabas had got into the habit of making speeches to people before he murdered them, so she was able to tell him who she was. With that, the murder was off and their friendship was back on track.
Now, it is Julia who has crossed over into another world. She has traveled back to the year 1840, and has told the family in the great house of Collinwood at that time that she is the daughter of the Barnabas Collins who supposedly left for England in the 1790s. She has also told them to expect her brother, Barnabas Junior, who, she says, looks just like their old man.
In a moment of extreme folly, Julia went to the room where Barnabas was sealed in his coffin in the 1790s and released him. This mirrored the folly of her waiting around in his hiding place after she killed Hoffman in Parallel Time. The Barnabas of 1840 had no idea that any time had passed since he was imprisoned four and a half decades before, and certainly did not know what Julia was talking about when she claimed that they had met in 1967 and become friends in 1968. He was about to kill her when his old friend Ben Stokes turned up in the nick of time and stopped him.
Now, Barnabas has discovered that Julia is interfering in his plans. He has bitten the lovely Roxanne Drew, intending for her to die and rise as his vampire bride. Julia and Ben found Roxanne and brought her to the Old House on the grounds of Collinwood. Julia is giving Roxanne a blood transfusion which has prevented her death. When Barnabas sees what is going on, he grabs Julia and is about to bite her.
Barnabas is already flashing his fangs when he has a seizure and collapses. He stands back up and finds Julia holding a cross at him. He tells her that he is the Barnabas of 1970, projected into his 1840 body by some mumbo-jumbo involving the I Ching. He could be making that up based on things she has already told him, so she keeps holding the cross. He goes on to give specific facts about several people they know in 1970. She realizes he is telling the truth. She puts the cross down, and gives him a hug. As Julia came from the main continuity and destroyed her own Doppelgänger to save Barnabas, so Barnabas has come from the future and destroyed his previous self to save Julia.**
The 1970 model Barnabas does not want Roxanne to be a vampire, and he is ashamed of his earlier self for having tried to make her one. Roxanne comes to, sees him, and is delighted to think he has come to bite her again. When he says that things have changed, she is disappointed and he is embarrassed. He goes away.
Julia has a superhuman power of hypnosis that she has often used to erase people’s memories and overwrite them with information that will not incriminate Barnabas. She tries this on Roxanne. She is halfway through the process when some noises outside prompt her to leave the room and investigate. The room is at the top of the stairs, and has been a major set for years. We’ve caught glimpses of the door that opens to it a couple of times, but this is the first time there is set built all the way to the railing.
Julia goes to the railing and calls downstairs, asking if anyone is there. No one answers, so she goes back into the room. Roxanne has somehow got away.
Barnabas goes to the great house and introduces himself as Julia’s brother. Julia comes. They get a private moment, during which Julia tells him that Roxanne escaped and that she does not know whether the hypnosis was successful. Roxanne enters, looks at Barnabas, and announces to the assembled Collinses that she knows who he is. She is escorted upstairs. Barnabas and Julia are on the verge of panic until Roxanne’s sister, Samantha Drew Collins, comes down and says that Roxanne doesn’t remember anything of the last couple nights.
The Gods are Weak at First*
The 1970 version of Barnabas is not the only character to make his grand entrance today. We also meet Desmond Collins and an acquaintance of his.
Desmond is the son of Flora Collins, a lady novelist and all-around silly person who lives in the nearby mansion called Rose Cottage. He has just returned from a long journey with a present for his friend, Quentin Collins, husband of Samantha and heir to the Collins estate. Flora breaks the sad news that Quentin and his son Tad Collins were lost at sea some time ago, that they have been missing ever since, and that they are now presumed dead.
The present is in a large cube that is covered with a cloth. Desmond removes the cloth and exposes a glass box holding a severed head. Flora reacts with horror; Desmond laughs and says that it is surely a carved figure of some sort, entirely harmless. We know better; the episode ends with the head opening its eyes.
In 1945, C. S. Lewis published the third volume of his “Space Trilogy,” a novel called That Hideous Strength. It was a commercial success at the time, and has been in print ever since. I have mixed feelings about Lewis’ writings; I essentially agree with his religious views, but he often expressed them in a cutesy-poo style that is still endemic among Anglican writers and that makes me wish I were a Zoroastrian or a Buddhist or something whenever I encounter it.
But the first fifty pages of That Hideous Strength are terrific. I teach in a university, and the account of life inside the fictional University of Edgestow is the most insightful depiction of campus politics I’ve ever read. The place is dominated by a clique of administrators who keep talking to each other about what “Our Head” wants them to do. In British institutions of higher education, “Head” is a title for a permanent director of a department or institute, so that’s what you think they are talking about. But no, it’s an actual severed head through which the voice of Satan speaks to them. They worship the head and follow the commands they receive from its mouth.
That Hideous Strength was certainly popular enough that it is likely the writers of Dark Shadows had looked to it as a source of material. In particular, Sam Hall was a serious enough Protestant that he persuaded Shirley Grossman to convert from Judaism and join him in the Lutheran church before they married and she became Grayson Hall. Lewis was so celebrated for his apologetics that it would be rather odd if his name did not attract Hall’s notice. So we can expect that Desmond and others will form a cult of some sort and that the Head will give them diabolical orders to follow.
The Head is that of Michael McGuire, making the first of scores of television appearances. One of my favorite parts of his was Sumner Sloan, the prominent academic who dumped Diane Chambers in the first episode of Cheers and came back for her in her last episode as a regular part of the cast of characters. McGuire also appeared in my favorite episode of Columbo, “A Friend in Deed,” in which his character tries to confess to killing his wife in a fit of rage only to find himself involved in a plot to kill another man’s wife in cold blood. I suppose one of McGuire’s specialties was “Do Not Date This Man.” I’ve never heard that he was anything other than a nice guy in real life, though.
*These section titles are taken from William Dickey’s 1961 poem, “Continued in Our Next”:
Over the quiet paper, in light that is
Interested only in a casual way,
All quite polite, the neat pen idly marries
Third sons to princesses.
They go away,
To the widest margin, to a land of white,
Wholly uninhabited until they came,
And from the sacks with which they are provided
Stock it with leaping trout and huntable game.
Hounds to be cursed at when the blood trail falters,
Eventually, reasons why the hounds went wrong.
Then to the reasons they establish altars.
The gods are weak at first.
When they grow strong
They bring into the world their choicest thunders.
Plagues, curses color the narrow countryside.
The peasantry speaks of horned, unnatural wonders,
And in the violence takes a natural pride.
But all the while the map-makers are busy.
Faint explorations die in the savage hills,
Others go on to the farthest fabled city,
Where for six months the sun is lost, and the cold kills.
Geometers prove the world, and it is conquered.
Truth overtakes the aborigine.
The gods depart. Mankind is anchored
To clear historical necessity.
Until one day at midday
When the sun ought to be loudest in the shouting sky
Shadow occludes it. Suddenly life is done.
The fire goes out. The constellations die.
Only, above the following page, the pen,
Whose quality is not to have taken part,
Hovers in uncommittedness again,
Poised for the signal of another start
Towards some fresh country, princesses more golden,
And younger sons who wage a bolder fight,
Stags nobler, hounds more diligent than the olden,
The page lies empty in the easy light.
This poem reminds me of Dark Shadows. The creative process is so close to the surface of the show that an image of a writer with pen and paper is a suitable way to start a description of it. When the third sons and the princesses are moved to the “widest margin, to the land of white” it’s ambiguous if that just means the writer is making notes on the otherwise blank edge of the paper or whether the characters are going off to the Arctic. We see the same ambiguity in “the pen whose quality is not to have taken part.” That brings to mind both the characters visiting from other times or other universes and the writers who use those cosmic journeys to start the story fresh.
The “natural pride” that the “peasantry” takes in the crimes of the “unnatural wonders” explains both why there are characters who are willing to go on living in Collinsport and why the audience keeps coming back to the show. The wish for “princesses more golden” and for “younger sons who wage a bolder fight” casts our minds to stories like the conflict between Barnabas and Jeremiah Collins over the love of the gracious Josette and the ongoing scheme Gabriel Collins has devised to do away with his sister-in-law Samantha, grubby little imbroglios that never could lead to anything but sorrow, and leaves us wondering why we choose to follow this show rather than seeking out happier and more glorious tales.
**My wife, Mrs Acilius, had a lot to say about this inverted parallel.
