The ceaseless name-checking of fictional vampires and genre characters, plus a tendency to take the novel's concept far too seriously (23% of the new reprint is back matter including annotations
, fuh crying out loud) made reading this far more of a chore than it need have been. Had this been a critical work about vampires, decadence, others and othering, c. 1888, I would have happily sucked it down, pun intended. (Newman does allude to a thesis from his university days.) The book begins to pick up midway through as the plot focusses on the book's own central characters, Beauregard and Geneviève, as they pursue the Ripper and work to undermine Prince Consort Dracula.
I wonder if enjoyment here may be a case of striking a balance with the individual reader between those who have enough familiarity with the sources being name-checked to have fun with it, and not so much that it gets in the way.