#and Van Helsing strives for that like he did with Lucy and does with Mina

[anony-geist]

Pretty sure Mina secretly went and told Van Helsing privately to make a plan so she and Jonathan can be separate in the final hunt. She wanted to go to the Castle herself instead of staying back, and to go there without Jonathan. She likely even explained to Van Helsing the big part of the reasoning behind her hard choice by telling him Jonathan's secret.

It tracks along with how she 1. Showed Van Helsing Jonathan's sealed journal, in order to cure him 2. Told Van Helsing to start hypnotizing her to track Dracula and to take her with them 3. Showed no surprise at Van Helsing's public proposal for her to go to the Castle, and she simply observed him try to convince her husband

[vickyvicarious]

Lucy wrote her memorandum so no one else will get in trouble through her, and if I remember correctly Jonathan too at one point said that he's writing about what is happening as facts for someone else to benefit from if he perishes...

You have excellent timing, I was actually planning to talk about yesterday's Lucy/Jonathan parallels when I came back to see this. Yes! In fact, there are several lines which call back to Jonathan quotes:

"If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye." Jonathan, 4 May "I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night." Lucy, 17 September

I'm pretty sure Jonathan has a few other similar lines but this is the first one. And it becomes apparent that his journal is written for multiple purposes, including keeping his own sanity intact, serving as a record he can consult, a place he can be honest about his emotions... but from very early on it is also intended as a resource that can be seen by others. Jonathan's intention is for them to know the truth of what happened to him. But in a way at the end, the diary is also intended to serve the purpose of countermanding his own assistance in getting Dracula to England. He doesn't want anyone to 'get into trouble through him' either, it's what provokes him to make the shovel attack. (Alas, then he breaks down and his memory loss and trauma lead him to choose not to open it.)

And of course, Jonathan also has several different times he emphasizes that he is making an exact record. He's not the only one, of course. The Captain of the Demeter does the same. All three narrators who suffer from Dracula preying upon them for extended amounts of time take care to say this.

"I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!" Jonathan, 5 May I have a dim half-remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing; darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress more poignant: and then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of water. Since, however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this bad dreaming seems to have passed away; the noises that used to frighten me out of my wits—the flapping against the windows, the distant voices which seemed so close to me, the harsh sounds that came from I know not where and commanded me to do I know not what—have all ceased. [...] But I need not be watched; I am well enough to be left alone. Thank God for mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our friends who have been so kind! Lucy, 17 September

Lucy is more willing to confess to the strange things she thinks here, for the first time. Jonathan wasn't, in the beginning, and we aren't sure whether he ever fully did (he certainly had nightmares he wasn't talking about, regardless of how open he was about more confirmable experiences). But they both experience similar uncertainty about the reality of what is happening to them. They both suffer memory loss - at different points, maybe in somewhat different ways, but also maybe not that different? They also both hope to be saved for the sake of those who love them.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! Jonathan, 24 June I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already—for her dear heart had ceased to beat—weighed me down; and I remembered no more for a while. The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing. Lucy, 17 September

Both Jonathan and Lucy are hypnotized by vampires in their swirling specks of dust form. Both begin to come back to their senses as they hear dogs howling.

"If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place." Jonathan, 8 May "What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear?" Jonathan, 24 June "What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead!" Lucy, 17 September

They both speak of being alone with the dead, though in Lucy's case she doesn't realize the full extent of the 'dead' who are with her. But both bring this up in the context of being unable to speak/communicate with other people, and in both cases this is because Dracula has deliberately isolated them. By trapping Jonathan in the castle, by drugging the maids...

I included the second Jonathan quote because I love how despite this completely understandable despair and uncertainty, both he and Lucy take action almost immediately after writing those lines. Jonathan decides to make the climb through the window the very next day, and Lucy resolves to hide her memorandum in order to make sure it is found. They both have very limited resources/options, but neither sinks into despair for too long. They fight till the end.

"The chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shall risk it. At the worst it can only be death; and a man's death is not a calf's, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me. God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina!" Jonathan, 25 June "At least God's mercy is better than that of these monsters, and the precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep—as a man. Good-bye, all! Mina!" Jonathan, 30 June "I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing. [...] Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!" Lucy, 17 September

They both fully understand that they are facing death, and in fact are more likely to die than to survive. Both are certain the risk is worth it and press forward despite the danger/their fear or weakness. Both fear something worse than death happening to them, and appeal to god for a death as a human... though Lucy's pleas are less explicit about this because she doesn't remember enough to be able to verbalize any distinct other possibility.

And of course, when convinced they are about to die, both of them dedicate their final words to their loved ones.

.

And that's just the quotes that stuck out to me. There's also other things, like:

A shared feeling of inevitability (in Jonathan's case, externally imposed by Dracula's deadline/the threat of the vampire ladies; in Lucy's, it comes as a result of her long health struggles and the impending danger tonight she cannot stave off alone)

Being menaced by wolves under Dracula's command, who don't actively hurt either narrator but do serve to trap them in with him for the night

Everything about their nightmares, especially the timing of Jonathan's nightmares being specifically mentioned on the same day as Lucy's nightmare becomes a waking one

Each of their avenues of protection/escape being eroded or blocked one by one, leading them to lose hope for their survival. Sort of overlaps with that shared feeling of inevitability, but I wanna emphasize how Dracula is intentionally cutting them off repeatedly as they try various things.

I mentioned the dogs already, but Lucy's two encounters with Dracula in swirling speck form echo Jonathan's two close calls with the vampire ladies who first showed that form, except Jonathan was saved both times and Lucy wasn't. Even when she came out of the trance for a while, it was too late.

It was a lot.

[see-arcane]

What you said about Jonathan wanting to do good is so true. Like, he reads the letter of recommendation about how nice and good at his work he is and beams up!

Sometimes it felt like ppl thought he was itching to hurt Arthur, Jack, Quincey, and Van Helsing, which was the last thing he wanted to do. He wants to be a good person and not hurt the friends who helped him and his. He KNOWS they're right morally. That's why he doesn't protest them vowing to kill Mina. But it doesn't matter that they're moral and noble, he will cut them down before they can fulfill the promise. And he DOESN'T want to do that.

He was very distinctively silent about his silence, which may be why people interpreted him as a cold-blooded backstabber. But he'd been very unhappily avoiding them for a reason (until Mina started to improve due to Dracula fleeing her mind) because he doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially friends.

That's the added tragedy of it if it had happened! If he had had no moral qualms about killing, there'd have been nothing tragic about his struggle. Because he wants to be good, he knows his friends are good, but he also knows he'll do evil for Mina.

It all feeds into Jonathan Harker as a person who, while striving always to Do Good, does not exist in a stark black-and-white version of morality like the rest of his friends do. He places everything in his world within a hierarchy. We see that with how he reacts in the castle and his miserable game of ‘Would You Rather?’

He would rather die than join the Brides. He would rather live than be meekly torn apart by the wolves, a lamb to slaughter. He would rather risk falling to his death and those same wolves while trying to return home to Mina, proving he did not go quietly at Dracula or the Brides’ whim. 

It’s a huge horrible spread of awful choices to make, but since there are no good options, he orders his actions and thoughts by which he deems least awful.

Which is exactly what we see in the predicament with Mina becoming a vampire, her martyr demands, and the Stalwart Classic Heroes swearing to give her what they all deem a merciful euthanasia should she turn. 

And then there’s Jonathan. Incapable of nodding along and agreeing with the Stalwart Good Course. Because it’s Mina. Mina exists at the height of importance in all things for him.

I bet it’s a shock in itself when he recognizes that--he really does value her existence, no matter what she is, above good and evil and God and Hell and the lives of innocents. The lives of his friends, who are already risking so much for their sake and the sake of all the strangers Dracula might yet prey on.

If only in his heart, Jonathan has to register himself as a villain in potentia. Would he die for these men? Die beside them? Yes, of course. 

But they still exist below Mina in importance. Everything does. 

These men are his friends. New, yes, but such a blessing in his lonely life; a small thing revolving around Mina, Lucy, Mr. Hawkins and casual acquaintances he charms but never grows close enough with to earn so much as a named mention in his journal. Seward, Holmwood, Morris and Van Helsing came into his life as his first real batch of friends, a premade camaraderie already set in place. He cares about them immediately and immensely. So much so that his will is made out to them should he and Mina die (or do more than die). 

Jonathan would never hurt them...unless he had no choice.

And the fact that that choice is there, lingering in the dark places of his mind where he cannot help putting together another hierarchy of unhappy ‘Would You Rathers?’, is what makes his constant grip on the kukri as tragic as it is foreboding.

[draculalive]

Mina Harker's Journal.

1 October. -- It is strange to me to be kept in the dark as I am to-day; after Jonathan's full confidence for so many years, to see him manifestly avoid certain matters, and those the most vital of all. This morning I slept late after the fatigues of yesterday, and though Jonathan was late too, he was the earlier. He spoke to me before he went out, never more sweetly or tenderly, but he never mentioned a word of what had happened in the visit to the Count's house. And yet he must have known how terribly anxious I was. Poor dear fellow! I suppose it must have distressed him even more than it did me. They all agreed that it was best that I should not be drawn further into this awful work, and I acquiesced. But to think that he keeps anything from me! And now I am crying like a silly fool, when I know it comes from my husband's great love and from the good, good wishes of those other strong men.

That has done me good. Well, some day Jonathan will tell me all; and lest it should ever be that he should think for a moment that I kept anything from him, I still keep my journal as usual. Then if he has feared of my trust I shall show it to him, with every thought of my heart put down for his dear eyes to read. I feel strangely sad and low-spirited to-day. I suppose it is the reaction from the terrible excitement.

Last night I went to bed when the men had gone, simply because they told me to. I didn't feel sleepy, and I did feel full of devouring anxiety. I kept thinking over everything that has been ever since Jonathan came to see me in London, and it all seems like a horrible tragedy, with fate pressing on relentlessly to some destined end. Everything that one does seems, no matter how right it may be, to bring on the very thing which is most to be deplored. If I hadn't gone to Whitby, perhaps poor dear Lucy would be with us now. She hadn't taken to visiting the churchyard till I came, and if she hadn't come there in the day-time with me she wouldn't have walked there in her sleep; and if she hadn't gone there at night and asleep, that monster couldn't have destroyed her as he did. Oh, why did I ever go to Whitby? There now, crying again! I wonder what has come over me to-day. I must hide it from Jonathan, for if he knew that I had been crying twice in one morning -- I, who never cried on my own account, and whom he has never caused to shed a tear -- the dear fellow would fret his heart out. I shall put a bold face on, and if I do feel weepy, he shall never see it. I suppose it is one of the lessons that we poor women have to learn...

I can't quite remember how I fell asleep last night. I remember hearing the sudden barking of the dogs and a lot of queer sounds, like praying on a very tumultuous scale, from Mr. Renfield's room, which is somewhere under this. And then there was silence over everything, silence so profound that it startled me, and I got up and looked out of the window. All was dark and silent, the black shadows thrown by the moonlight seeming full of a silent mystery of their own. Not a thing seemed to be stirring, but all to be grim and fixed as death or fate; so that a thin streak of white mist, that crept with almost imperceptible slowness across the grass towards the house, seemed to have a sentience and a vitality of its own. I think that the digression of my thoughts must have done me good, for when I got back to bed I found a lethargy creeping over me. I lay a while, but could not quite sleep, so I got out and looked out of the window again. The mist was spreading, and was now close up to the house, so that I could see it lying thick against the wall, as though it were stealing up to the windows. The poor man was more loud than ever, and though I could not distinguish a word he said, I could in some way recognise in his tones some passionate entreaty on his part. Then there was the sound of a struggle, and I knew that the attendants were dealing with him. I was so frightened that I crept into bed, and pulled the clothes over my head, putting my fingers in my ears. I was not then a bit sleepy, at least so I thought; but I must have fallen asleep, for, except dreams, I do not remember anything until the morning, when Jonathan woke me. I think that it took me an effort and a little time to realise where I was, and that it was Jonathan who was bending over me. My dream was very peculiar, and was almost typical of the way that waking thoughts become merged in, or continued in, dreams.

I thought that I was asleep, and waiting for Jonathan to come back. I was very anxious about him, and I was powerless to act; my feet, and my hands, and my brain were weighted, so that nothing could proceed at the usual pace. And so I slept uneasily and thought. Then it began to dawn upon me that the air was heavy, and dank, and cold. I put back the clothes from my face, and found, to my surprise, that all was dim around. The gaslight which I had left lit for Jonathan, but turned down, came only like a tiny red spark through the fog, which had evidently grown thicker and poured into the room. Then it occurred to me that I had shut the window before I had come to bed. I would have got out to make certain on the point, but some leaden lethargy seemed to chain my limbs and even my will. I lay still and endured; that was all. I closed my eyes, but could still see through my eyelids. (It is wonderful what tricks our dreams play us, and how conveniently we can imagine.) The mist grew thicker and thicker and I could see now how it came in, for I could see it like smoke -- or with the white energy of boiling water -- pouring in, not through the window, but through the joinings of the door. It got thicker and thicker, till it seemed as if it became concentrated into a sort of pillar of cloud in the room, through the top of which I could see the light of the gas shining like a red eye. Things began to whirl through my brain just as the cloudy column was now whirling in the room, and through it all came the scriptural words "a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night." Was it indeed some such spiritual guidance that was coming to me in my sleep? But the pillar was composed of both the day and the night-guiding, for the fire was in the red eye, which at the thought got a new fascination for me; till, as I looked, the fire divided, and seemed to shine on me through the fog like two red eyes, such as Lucy told me of in her momentary mental wandering when, on the cliff, the dying sunlight struck the windows of St. Mary's Church. Suddenly the horror burst upon me that it was thus that Jonathan had seen those awful women growing into reality through the whirling mist in the moonlight, and in my dream I must have fainted, for all became black darkness. The last conscious effort which imagination made was to show me a livid white face bending over me out of the mist. I must be careful of such dreams, for they would unseat one's reason if there were too much of them. I would get Dr. Van Helsing or Dr. Seward to prescribe something for me which would make me sleep, only that I fear to alarm them. Such a dream at the present time would become woven into their fears for me. To-night I shall strive hard to sleep naturally. If I do not, I shall to-morrow night get them to give me a dose of chloral; that cannot hurt me for once, and it will give me a good night's sleep. Last night tired me more than if I had not slept at all.