I, Vampire
Review by The Mad Bibliographer, submitted on 01-Jan-1992

The following is adapted from material that originally appeared in the column "Vampires in Print" in The Vampire's Crypt #3 (Spring 1991).

Review by Cathy Krusberg

Michael Romkey. I, Vampire (Fawcett, 1990).

I, Vampire (not to be confused with the 1984 novel of the same title by Jody Scott) falls sadly short of what it might be. A book featuring such luminaries as Mozart, Rasputin, Jack the Ripper, Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia, and Princess Tatiana Nicolaievna Romanov ought at least to be interesting. A book in which all of them are vampires (some wearing white hats, some black) might even be enthralling. Do you hear me, Mr. Romkey?

Adjectives more appropriate to I, Vampire include pretentious, sensational (in the bad sense), silly, adolescent, and oh, yes, pretentious--the book reeks of pretentiousness. A yuppie lawyer becoming a vampire is unobjectionable in itself. A yuppie lawyer being made a vampire by a Russian princess is another matter. When the yuppie lawyer writes like a Victorian novelist but is still yuppie enough to tell us, "I put on an Arrow shirt, khaki pants, Clarice's belt, and Topsiders"--

In answer to the question possibly still in your mind, gentle reader: Yes, it does get worse. Rasputin uses drill-sergeant tactics to break in new vampires. Mozart leads a high speed car chase on mountain roads and fakes mortal wounds as a part of a training exercise.

And these are the good guys.

I, Vampire offers an uneven blend of boot camp, fraternity hazing, premature mid-life crisis, tear-jerking theatrics, stomach-jerking theatrics, and espionage. Reading it is an experience, but not an experience you'll want to repeat.

(In fairness, I should mention that I, Vampire has an enthusiastic following among vampire fans. There is, as they say, no accounting for tastes.)