Isn't it time vampires went back in the coffin? Our fanged friends are in serious danger of outstaying their welcome.

A new Twilight movie is almost upon us (wasn't the last one in cinemas, like, the other week?); the hilariously over-sexed vampire soap True Blood just started on terrestrial television and has critics foaming at the chops; and vampire novels continue to swamp our bookstores with over-written prose and stilted dialogue .

In other words, vampire mania is approaching saturation point. Frankly, somebody ought to stand up and yell 'stop' (preferably while twirling a string of garlic and hefting a hammer and stake) Actually, someone has.

The prominent comic book and horror novelist and screenwriter Neil Gaiman -- his most recent movie, Coraline, was recently released on DVD -- has expressed the wish that vampires would do the decent thing and disappear from the cultural landscape for a quarter century or so.

"Vampires go in waves," he says. "And it kind of feels like we're now finishing a vampire wave, because we're at the point where they're everywhere, it's probably time to go back underground for another 20 or 25 years."

As you would expect, his comments were greeted with shrieks of fury from vampire devotees, who, as is the way with geeks with too much time on their hands, have lit up the internet with their criticisms. But that doesn't mean he hasn't got a point.

We are in the midst of a vampire infestation not witnessed since the heyday of Hammer Horror. Bookshelves groan under the weight of vampire fiction. In addition to Stephenie Meyer's Twilight novels we can feast our eye-balls on Melissa de la Cruz's Blue Blood saga; Laurell K Hamilton's Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series; and Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire novels (the inspiration for True Blood). There is even a Dracula 'sequel' co-authored by Dacre Stoker, great-grand nephew of Bram, whose previous claim on our attention was the fact that he helped mentor the Canadian Pentathlon team in the Seoul Olympics.

At the cinema, too, vampires are so ubiquitous it is starting to get a bit dull. This winter, alongside Twilight follow-up New Moon, audiences can sink their teeth into the the art-house vampire flick Thirst and Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant, starring Salma Hayek and John C Reilly. The latter is based on the Cirque Du Freak novels by Limerick writer Darren Shan and looks set to become a global hit.

How are we to explain this sudden, silent take-over by vampires? Teenage girls appear to have developed a collective crush on unattainable hunks with sad eyes and sharp teeth.

Certainly, that's the lesson you take away from the success of the Twilight saga, in which shy Bella Swan falls for the hunky, yet soulful, charms of vampire Edward Cullen. First published in 2005, Stephenie Meyer's series has shoved aside Harry Potter to become the publishing story of the decade -- the books have shifted an estimated 70 million copies worldwide.

Neil Gaiman's take on the phenomenon is that vampire fiction speaks to teenage girls' desire to be swept off their feet by a non-threatening love interest.

"The fact that women are so attracted to that idea -- that they want to wait for Prince Charming rather than taking control of their own life -- I find that frightening."

Not every vampire franchise is (exclusively) aimed at teenage girls. Consider True Blood, the steamy-to-the-point-of-being-camp HBO television series set in the American Deep South. Here, vampires are coming out of the closet thanks to the invention of a new drink ('tru blood'), which means they are no longer obliged to feed off humans.

Of course, like any minority they still have to face down prejudices. In the show's gloriously creepy title sequence, we see a sign outside a church proclaiming 'God Hates Fangs'.

Naturally, it has been assumed that the vampires in True Blood are a metaphor for the gay community. However, series creator Alan Ball says vampires can represent whatever minority you care to think of -- "pretty much any group that wasn't on the bus with [President] Bush".

With a background in serious drama [he wrote American Beauty and created arty soap opera Six Feet Under], Ball is the last person would you expect to find clambering aboard the vampire bandwagon. The idea for a show about blood suckers came to him out of the blue, after he encountered one of Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire potboilers in a dentist's waiting room.

"It struck me that if the subject could be made surprising, scary, sexy, funny and, in the right moments, moving, then it would make a really good series," he said. "You'd have thought vampires would have been done to death by now, if you'll excuse the joke. But I think we've proved that, as in all stories about the un-dead, you can't keep a good vampire down."

In vampire fiction, the fanged hero is in possession of dreamy good looks, a complexion straight out of a Cure video circa 1985 and an air of morose sophistication. In other words, he isn't like other boys.

And therein lies the appeal: he represents the ideal, unattainable boyfriend (in all of these books there will inevitably come a moment when the vampire will look soulfully into the female narrator's eyes and tell them their love cannot be).

Some commentators have come up with some surprising conclusions. "Vampires have overwhelmed pop culture because young straight women want to have sex with gay men," said writer Stephen Marche in Esquire magazine. "Not all young straight women, but many, if not most, of them."

- Ed Power

Irish Independent