Vampires & Esotericism: Sinners movie and the Annabelle Tour

( You should listen to the song Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier while reading this for the correct atmosphere 😂)

The Paranormal as a Sanctuary for the “Othered”

The esoteric and paranormal have always served as a refuge for the “Other”, those exiled from societal norms. Vampires, demons, spirits, witches, sorcerers, and shapeshifters are archetypes of exile, exclusion, and power reclaimed. These beings, often cast out or demonized, echo the experience of marginalized communities of people who have been labeled too strange, too different to be understood.

Vampires in particular are intimately tied to themes of colonialism, exile, and vengeance. Even in death, they fight for justice, for stolen homelands, for dignity. Their immortality becomes resistance. Their thirst? A symbol of hunger for truth, for liberation.

Haunted and On Tour: Annabelle in America

Annabelle is back and this time, she’s on tour. The infamous haunted doll, long encased behind glass and prayers by the New England Society for Psychic Research (NESPR), is now traveling the U.S. as part of their “Devils on the Run” exhibition. Paranormal fans are flocking to see her in person, staring into her hollow eyes as if daring her to blink.

Recently, as her tour passed near New Orleans, something strange happened, a plantation estate in the region mysteriously caught fire. No official connection was made, of course. But online, a interesting theory was born:
What if Annabelle burned it down?

It sounds far-fetched but consider this: what if haunted objects are not merely passive vessels, but mirrors? What if they echo the pain of the forgotten? Annabelle, a symbol of suppressed rage, injustice left to rot behind glass. What happens when that mirror cracks?
​
What if this doll, cursed, enraged, and long “othered” took justice into her own stitched hands? What if haunted objects aren’t just charged by spirits… but by centuries of pain? Intersectional pain that demands to be reckoned with?

The "Other": Mirrors to Society and Catalysts for Change

Throughout history and fiction, figures like vampires, demons, and various paranormal entities have served as more than just objects of terror; they are complex mirrors reflecting societal anxieties and, paradoxically, often embodying a strange form of inclusivity. Why this fascination? Perhaps because they represent ultimate alterity. Vampires, for instance, are the quintessential outsiders existing between life and death, often possessing immense knowledge and power, yet said to be forever barred from the sunlit world of conventional humanity. They are the eternal exiles, frequently depicted as being driven from their homelands, their very existence a rebellion against natural law and societal norms. This resonates with the historical experiences of marginalized communities, minorities, and anyone who has ever been labeled "different" and cast aside by the dominant culture. 

These narratives become potent allegories. The vampire’s fight for survival, their often-tragic quest for connection or vengeance against those who stole their mortal lives or ancestral lands, echoes the silenced struggles of erased cultures. We are now witnessing a powerful resurgence of these suppressed narratives, the old myths and the wisdom of old gods bubbling up from the depths of the collective unconscious. These are not just quaint folktales; they are living archetypes. Potent, primordial energies representing fundamental aspects of the human (and non-human) experience, being unbound from centuries of repression and unleashed into a world desperately in need of their challenging perspectives. This unbinding is disruptive, even chaotic, but it can also be profoundly liberating, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths and re-evaluate our definitions of 'us' and 'them.'

New Orleans: A Living Crucible of Ghosts, Gods, and Reawakenings

New Orleans is more than a backdrop; it's a pulsing, living entity where the veil between worlds seems perpetually thin. Its air, thick with the scent of jasmine, damp earth, and history, is alive with the whispers of the paranormal. The Annabelle doll, a modern icon of contained (or perhaps, uncontainable) spiritual force, naturally finds its place in a city whose very foundations are steeped in Voodoo, Hoodoo, and intricate Catholic mysticism. Traditions that acknowledge and work with the unseen. Imagine the oppressive weight of its history: the site of a plantation burnt down in New Orleans isn't merely a spotlight of past violence; it becomes a pyre of transformation. Fire consumes, yes, but in alchemical thought and in many spiritual traditions, fire is also the ultimate purifier, a force that clears away the old and rotten to make space for new, vibrant growth. The ashes of such a place might well fertilize a landscape where the ghosts of injustice demand to be heard, and where the resilient spirit of survival, so akin to the vampire's tenacity, is a daily sacrament. The city’s unique vampire lore, rich and distinct, further cements its role as a sanctuary and a battleground for these "othered" forces.

The Inheritance of the Other: Monsters, Margins, and the Mystic Mirror of Power

There has always been a figure in the dark. A monster. A stranger. An “Other”.

And every empire, at some point, needed one.

Throughout history, marginalized people have been turned into mythic threats. Not just through propaganda, but through stories, folklore, superstition, and horror. The supernatural has always served as a symbolic theater where society projects its deepest fears, guilt, and shame. But when you look closely, these monsters begin to look familiar. They begin to look like us.

They begin to look like the people history tried to erase. 

This archetypal shadow of civilizations tends to cyclically reap what is sowed. You need only look in the mirror to see it. 


The Alchemical Fire: Transmuting Shadow into Illuminated Blood
Solve et Coagula, Azoth et Ignis

​This journey into the shadow is, at its heart, an alchemical process. The ancient art of alchemy wasn't about turning lead into gold; it was a profound metaphor for spiritual transformation, for the journey of the soul from the darkness of ignorance (Nigredo) through purification (Albedo) to wisdom and integration (Rubedo). It's in the Rubedo, the "reddening," that we find the most potent parallels to our themes. This is the stage of the sang graal : the holy blood, the life force awakened, on fire, and made conscious. This isn't just physical blood; it's the metaphorical vampires, the passionate commitment of the revolutionary, the artist, the mystic. It is the blood of the exile, now imbued with power and purpose. This fire is inherently dual: it can destroy old, limiting structures within ourselves and society, but it also fuels creation, passion, and the radiant heart of courage. It’s the fire that radiates from the Philosopher's Stone, the symbol of ultimate wisdom and enlightened immortality. 

​The metaphorical blood that is shed, in this context, is not lost; it fruits the most radiant flowers. The ancient mystics whispered that the blood of the gods is golden. The luminous life-force, which, mixed with the dark, fertile soil of the Earth and the vibrant fire of the courageous red heart, sprouts flowers of flaming petals. This is the fire that does not only destroy but also nourishes and sustains all life. In this way each time we die we are planted into the earth and return like these perennial flowers.

Here is a prose poem that I wrote recently about my journey with esotericism and alchemy

Le Jardin Voilé : la rose voilée d’ombreBy Sarah Liliane Liénard

After the darkness, the labyrinthine halls beneath the abyss. The tunnels below, like roots weaving through the black earth.

I lie above the soil now, after the ordeal, as deep green vines begin to wrap around my body, infiltrating my bones, threading themselves through my being like roots. Like a many-headed serpent. Like the branching of the world tree. Like an anchor taking root, a marriage to the earth.

With the moon circling above, full of silvery dew, the vines begin to bloom. Small flowers, night-blooming beauties, nourished by the moon’s milky white light of reflection. Like white lilies. Like roses.

Then it seemed that this union with the dark earth had summoned another strange living light.

Golden vines like threads appeared from within me, from nowhere, from somewhere I could not fathom, and merged with the green.

Golden vines, like threads of living light, like mycelium of flame. In their presence, the green begins to turn gold.

The moon and sun appear together in the same quadrant of the sky. The threefold self revealed. The secret face shared between moon and sun.

The flowers begin to change. Golden light, like sunlight's flame, nourishes them more fully.

Now a fragment of the sun appears. A tiny starlike ember. A candle reigniting in the trail of ash and smoke.

The golden vines turn Red as they meet the veins and Heart. Each heartbeat feeds the blossoms, and they pulse radiant in return.

A great Fire begins, multicolored, golden. The flowers turn red, become aflame, and perfuming.

A phoenix surrounded by roses, is a rose itself.

The blood ignites. Its light nourishes the spiritual blooms. The burning bush of roses. The world tree of Eden, aflame. The garden of Hesperides. A strange garden without name.

A true crown is one of:

flowers, laurels, vines and leaves.

Ouroboros.
​
A wreath imparted by Nature herself.

In this image the roses bloom from within the fanged snake of eternity.  In a better description the image is missing a key component. Ouroboros bites down on its own tail while devouring itself and the blood that drips then is used to water and nourish the roses.  

The Theatre of Life: The Vampires’ Savage Garden 

The body is merely a costume, worn for a fleeting moment in the great performance on the stage of life. We die, we forget, we return. Perhaps the true vampire is not the undead, but the fully conscious mortal, the lucid dreamer who recognizes the illusion, plays their role with awareness, and dares to change the story and narrative. This, perhaps, is the essence of eternity: to die countless times and yet remain oneself; to rise again and again from death and soil like a perennial flower with deep roots. Life itself becomes a grand masquerade. Not one of concealment, but of revelation, where each person wears their truest face without shame. Imagine how vibrant, how wildly diverse the Earth could be if we embraced that truth. 

We embody archetypes and engage with timeless myths, donning new masks and garments with each life we live. Eventually, each of us will play the role of the other, the one feared, excluded, or misunderstood. We may find ourselves among the sick, the queer, the disabled, the oppressed. These roles may not wait for another lifetime; they may arrive in this one. Many more live quietly with parts of themselves hidden, afraid of the cost of authenticity. Hatred toward others often reveals a deeper fear within, an aversion to the vulnerability, difference, and mortality we all carry. In the end, we do not fear others as much as we fear what they reflect back to us: the parts of ourselves we struggle to accept, and the death we spend our lives trying to forget.

We don't choose the circumstances we are born into, the time period, or our genetics. We don't choose our faces or our names. We don't choose the way we love or the passions we bring to the world. We choose so little about ourselves, the set and setting are already made. All we can do is choose to be authentically ourselves and take control over the pen that writes the script. To no longer be defined or controlled by our circumstance or fate. To make our own story on how we choose to act and who we choose to become. Once you see the world in this way, that being othered is something beyond your control, it brings a certain compassion to all living things. How we struggle and choose to become something beyond our suffering. That's when I think the rose mentioned above blooms. 

The Power of Music: Summoning Spirits Across Time

In Sinners, music is not merely a backdrop but a central force that bridges the temporal divide. This concept is encapsulated in the line:

"There are legends of people with the gift of making music so true it conjures spirits from the past and the future." 

The film's portrayal of music as a medium to connect with the spiritual realm echoes ancient myths, particularly those of Orpheus and Dionysus. Orpheus, in Greek mythology, was a legendary musician whose melodies could charm all living things and even inanimate objects. His music was so powerful that it allowed him to descend into the underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice. Similarly, Dionysus, the god of wine, fertility, and ritual madness, was often associated with ecstatic music and dance, leading his followers into states of divine frenzy and spiritual transcendence.

In Sinners, Sammie's music evokes a similar transcendental experience, blurring the lines between the living and the dead, the past and the future. This is likened to the Music of The Spheres in ancient writings. His performances are not just musical expressions but spiritual rituals that summon and connect with entities beyond the boundaries of Time and the physical realm.

The Annabelle Conundrum: Dissecting Possession through Esoteric Lenses

The disquieting phenomenon of the Annabelle doll serves as a compelling case study for exploring the multifaceted nature of "possession," urging us beyond simplistic demonic paradigms into more nuanced esoteric and psychological territories.

• Archetypal Resonance: More than a mere receptacle for a singular entity, Annabelle can be understood as a potent focal point for condensed archetypal energies. In a Jungian sense, an object so saturated with human fear, narrative, and focused emotion can become a "complex" in physical form, embodying, for instance, the "Innocent Corrupted" (the child's plaything perverted into an icon of terror) or the "Vengeful Poltergeist." The doll then functions as a psychic magnet, drawing upon and amplifying these primal patterns from the collective unconscious, becoming less "possessed" by a spirit and more animated by the projected shadow of a culture. (These condensed archetypal energies can also be seen in people at times bringing into focus the idea of avatars and of donning their masks. This will be discussed much more in depth in another post…)

• Egregores: The Birth of a Thought-Form: The concept of an egregore offers a sophisticated framework for understanding Annabelle's perceived agency. An egregore is a non-physical entity brought into existence and sustained by the cumulative psychic energy (thoughts, emotions, beliefs, rituals) of a group of people. As Annabelle's notoriety grew, so too did the collective emotional and mental investment in her malevolence. Each story told, each fearful glance, each ritual performed in her presence could be seen as contributing to the vitality of this collectively manifested psychic entity. She becomes, in this light, a self-sustaining psychic vortex, a tulpa born from the fertile ground of modern folklore and media, her "haunting" a reflection of the power of concentrated human belief.

Understanding Annabelle thus requires a shift from seeking a singular "possessing spirit" to appreciating the doll as a potential nexus or convergence point where collective psychology, focused intention, and subtle energetic phenomena intersect, creating a truly modern form of haunting.

The Face of Night: Vampiric Allure and Monstrosity as Cultural Cipher

The vampire’s remarkable persistence in the cultural imagination is significantly fueled by its profound duality: it is concurrently depicted as a creature of breathtaking, almost celestial beauty and as a grotesque, undeniably demonic horror. This schism is not a contradiction but a sophisticated symbolic language reflecting humanity's deepest ambivalences.

• The Seraphic Predator: Allure and Aristocracy of Darkness: The "angelic" or alluring vampire, often an archetype of tragic romanticism, refined intellect, psychic powers, and melancholy grace (think Byron's heroes transmuted into undead nobility) appeals to our fascination with the forbidden, the eternal, and the exquisitely dangerous. Their beauty is a potent weapon, a velvet glove over an iron claw, promising ecstatic transcendence, arcane knowledge, and an escape from the mundane constraints of mortality. This vampire embodies the transcendent Other, the seductive shadow who understands the world's deepest secrets and offers a dangerous liaison. They are the Byronic anti-hero taken to its ultimate expression, their charisma often masking a profound existential sorrow or a chilling predatory detachment. This allure speaks to a yearning for power, timelessness, and a connection to something ancient and profound.

• The Bestial Revenant: Horror and the Stench of the Grave: Conversely, the monstrous vampire, the Nosferatu, the ghoulish reanimated corpse clawing its way from desecrated soil, taps into our most primal terrors: the fear of death, disease, decay, and the ravenous, unthinking predator. This entity is often devoid of sophistication, a raw embodiment of insatiable hunger and corruption. Its physical form is a roadmap of its spiritual decay: pallid skin, feral features, eyes burning with mindless malice. This vampire is a true revenant, a literal manifestation of the grave's horrors and the anxieties surrounding bodily violation and contagion. It is the unholy thing that should not be, its existence an affront to natural and divine law.

This transcendental dual nature allows the vampire to serve as a uniquely versatile cultural cipher. The beautiful vampire permits exploration of complex themes like desire, the seductive nature of power, the ethics of immortality, and the romanticism of rebellion. The monstrous vampire provides a cathartic outlet for primal fears, representing the ultimate unknown, the consequences of transgression, and the terrifying fragility of the human body and spirit. The enduring power of the vampire lies in its capacity to embody both the sublime and the terrible, the desired and the dreaded, often within the same chilling figure, making it a perfect, ever-evolving mirror for society's shifting anxieties and aspirations. After all, what is more terrifying than true otherworldly beauty? 

Let's now change the narrative…

In mainstream portrayals, the vampire is often defined by its hunger, its exile, its cursed immortality. But through a more radical, esoteric, or even gnostic lens, the vampire can be seen as something else entirely:

A liminal agent of truth, rejecting societal illusions and unveiling the shadow beneath civilization’s polished mask

In this role, the vampire becomes a revolutionary being, one who, like the bodhisattva, refuses the comfort of transcendence until others awaken and join them.

Lets look at this in a more esoteric lens.

Vampires as Angels of Death: Psychopomps in the Savage GardenI am the spirit of perpetual loss and transformation. The witness of endings and beginnings. The one who sees you as you are when the veils and masks fall away.

In Anne Rice’s savage garden, where beauty intertwines with decay, the vampire does not merely exist within the world, they act as mediators between realms. These immortal beings, with their heightened awareness of time, mortality, and suffering, take on the ancient and sacred role of the psychopomp: the guide of souls, the companion of the dying, the silent witness crossing thresholds.

Psychopomps in Mythology: The Guide Between Worlds

In myth and esoterica, a psychopomp is a figure who escorts souls from the world of the living into the afterlife, neither judge nor executioner, but a sacred intermediary. Hermes, Anubis, the Valkyries, and Charon all embody this function. Their role is not to condemn or save, but to accompany, to reveal, to transition.

Vampires, in Rice’s lore, perform a darkly mirrored version of this role. Their feeding becomes a kind of metaphorical ritual death. It is often about witnessing the passage, holding the gaze of the dying, recognizing the soul in its most vulnerable hour.

“I see death as a beautiful woman,” Lestat de Lioncourt muses, “clothed in crimson and shadow, singing songs too old to be remembered.”
Lestat's reflections often touch upon this duality:

"Very few beings really seek knowledge in this world... To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner."

This quest for understanding positions the vampire as both seeker and guide, navigating the mysteries of existence and leading others through the veil of mortality.

In this viewpoint vampires don’t kill for hunger but instead simply show up to take and guide the souls of the already dying and recently dead. When analyzed as angels of death the vampire myth completely alters. Instead of these monsters who kill innocents they are seen as psychopomps, initiatory guides to the dead and those at the threshold. The vampire's hypnotic gaze then is likened to a mirror before death. 

Esoteric Death Mysticism: The Vampire as Thanatological InitiateWithin esoteric traditions, death is never just an end, it is transformation, the final initiation. The vampire, who dies and returns, embodies the ancient archetype of the death-initiate, one who has crossed the veil and come back changed. They carry with them the knowledge of impermanence and eternity, of hunger and awe.

This makes them natural psychopomps, not only for others but for themselves. They are guardians of death’s meaning.

The Savage Garden as The Fallen Earth In the grandest sense, the savage garden is the domain of the psychopomp. It is the world as it appears to one who lives in constant dialogue with death: dazzling, dissonant, burning with color, full of cries and silences. The vampire walks its tangled paths like a priest of impermanence, bearing witness to the strange holiness of transfiguration and metamorphosis.

“To love the world,” says Louis, “you must love it through its ruin.”

This is the vampire’s sacred role, not to transcend the world, but to see it fully, even in its most broken form, to keep loving it anyway, and then to choose to try and transform it. That is the deepest act of compassion.

The vampire, in esoteric terms, is an agent of initiatory death, a being who stands upon the threshold between life and death, not to annihilate, but to awaken. They are symbolic of the lesser dweller on the threshold, a liminal force that confronts the soul with its shadow before it can pass into deeper understanding or transcendence.

They walk the savage garden with ancient eyes, naming each petal and bone, whispering to the dying, “You do not have to do this alone. I am with you”

To meet a vampire is to undergo a ritual encounter with the unknown self, a death before death, a stripping away of illusion, ego, and innocence. Like the rites of ancient mystery schools, the vampire's embrace initiates a transformation: the end of one life, and the beginning of another. In this way, they do not take life; they reveal it.

Vampires mark the space where death becomes a mirror, and crossing that threshold, one becomes either reborn or devoured.
—————————————————————————-
The goal is to look at old ideas in a new light. To look at these monster myths in a deeply analytical/reflective manner in order to break down their frameworks/narratives/myths/egregores, and transform them. Thus, shedding light upon the darkness and transforming shadow to light. 

We will take a deeper dive into this topic and learn why we must challenge these stories in next week's post, Liminal Letters No. 1, part 2. 

It's about to get much more opinionated in part 2. I will bring up the function of Othering as a tool of control for societies. As well as different instances in history where monster narratives have been created to dehumanize and Other certain groups of people. 
​
Welcome to the Garden.