
As far as I’m concerned, there are few pleasures in this world greater than settling in across from the TV and watching Alex Trebek stump a bunch of nerds with questions (excuse me– answers) that I am all too eager to shout out responses to. Which is why the writing of this article brings me no joy.
You done messed up, Jay-oh-pard-ee.
I was watching the show last night with the last of our Thanksgiving company. The final Jeopardy category was “Classic British Novels.” “Hell yes,” I said out loud. “That sh*t’s my jam.”
Then the clue:
“The title character of this novel says of his home, ‘The wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements.'”
Now, I didn’t come up with the correct answer, despite having read the book in question. (For the record, however, I once correctly predicted AND ANSWERED the clue before it even was given, so, I’m still a legend.) Did anyone else? Anyone?
The line is taken from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t get it; none of the contestants did, either. But some of the failure to figure out the answer might be due to the Jeopardy team themselves, because here’s the problem.
Dracula isn’t Brit lit. It’s Irish.
Here’s why it may be classified as British literature:
Here’s why I think that’s a crock of sh*t:
Britain has a fantastic history of taking things from other countries and saying “this is mine.” They literally built a shrine to it. We can’t undo all the oopsies of British colonialism, but we can be honest about it. And I think it’s important to, especially when it comes to countries whose gripes with Great Britain are still so recent.
Ireland (and Dublin especially) has an amazingly rich literary tradition and history. From the birth of modern satire to devastatingly sharp quips to theatrical classics to, yes, the original (and greatest) vampire novel of all time, these greats deserve the credit they’re due. They are not British. They are Irish, and better for it.
Be better next time, Jeopardy.