Yesterday morning I read an article that stated Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies might head to theaters soon. You read that right. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I wonder how the playful Elizabeth Bennet will choose among her suitors this time. Guaranteed Mr. Right would need martial arts training.
For this edition of Monday Mayhem, I’d like to explore other classics that would benefit from a zombie facelift.
Okay. Ready? Set. Here’s my take on classic literature zombie style:
Romeo and Juliet and Zombies—Juliet outside on the balcony: “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art the undead that we shall henceforth quicken their demise? Deny me not, be but sworn the pleasure to raise my knife against the bowels of the fiends.”
Anne of Green Gables and Zombies—Anne walking through Violet Vale with Diana: “There’s such a lot of different Annes in me, I frighten myself sometimes. I have horrid dreams of violence. Is it wrong to want to thrust a fireplace poker into the head of a walker?”
Les Misérables and Zombies—Victor Hugo: “He never went out without a skull under his arm, and he often came back with two.”
Hamlet and Zombies—Hamlet holding a skull: “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him whole; before the eaters raised their gnashing teeth and their unbridled hunger to tear at his flesh, discarding his limbs as puppetry. For whence forth are thy gibes now among thy pieces?”
Great Expectations and Zombies—Miss Havisham: “Kill it, kill it, kill it! If it resists, kill it. If it wounds you, kill it. If it tears your heart to pieces—and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper—kill it, kill it, kill it!”
The Three Musketeers and Zombies—Aramis to D’Artagnan: “Athos takes his creature beheadings very seriously. Not to worry, he’ll be his usual charming self by morning.”
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Zombies—The opening line: “What is the use of a book, without the pleasure of jamming it down the throat of a brain chewer?”
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Zombies—Holmes holding a bow: “It’s elementary, my dear Watson. Once the creatures cross the threshold, these razor sharp arrows will dispatch them whole. There will be nothing left of the boastful relics.”
A Christmas Carol and Zombies—Ghost of Christmas Present to Ebenezer Scrooge: “There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as destroying a maggot bag with your bare hands.”
Julius Caesar and Zombies—Antony’s oratorio: “Friends, Romans, countrymen, protect thy ears. The harbingers have devoured Caesar to the bone. Lift up thy swords and swear vengeance to the beasts, spilling their entrails forthwith beyond the square.”
Can you think of other classics more deserving of a zombie makeover?
Looking to God 