Introduction

Few resources in English Language Teaching (ELT) generate as much discussion as the coursebook. For some teachers, it provides structure, security, and continuity; for others, it represents limitations that restrict creativity and responsiveness to learner needs. This tension is particularly evident when teachers work with adult learners whose professional, academic, and personal realities may differ significantly from the contexts envisioned by textbook writers. Reflecting on the ideas presented in the British Council course TeachingEnglish: How to Adapt Resources and on my own experience teaching young adults and working professionals online, I have come to view the coursebook neither as an obstacle nor as a solution in itself. Rather, it is a resource that must be critically evaluated and adapted.

The debate surrounding coursebooks is not new. Questions regarding their effectiveness continue to keep cropping up in professional discussions, conference presentations, and teacher-training programs. While modern coursebooks are often the result of extensive research and development carried out by publishers, they cannot anticipate the needs of every learning context. Consequently, teachers must bring their professional judgment, creativity, and understanding of learners to bear on the materials they use to cater for particular needs.

This essay explores the advantages and limitations of coursebooks, the rationale for adapting them, and the particular implications of adaptation for adult online learners. Drawing on insights from the British Council, my own reflections, and contributions from scholars such as Lindsay Clandfield, Tomlinson, Thornbury, and Harmer, the discussion argues that coursebooks remain valuable resources when used flexibly and critically rather than mechanically.

The Enduring Value of Coursebooks

Coursebooks have long occupied a central position in language education. According to the British Council (n.d.), teachers frequently rely on coursebooks because they facilitate lesson planning and provide learners with a record of what has been covered in class. The organization and sequencing offered by a textbook can be particularly useful in programs that follow a structured curriculum such as the online programs where I teach young and working adults.

From my perspective, the textbook serves as an important guide because it forms part of a larger language-learning sequence aligned with proficiency frameworks such as the Common European Framework of Reference (CEFR). As I have frequently observed, “The textbook is a great guide since it is important to understand that it is part of a language series that is graded in terms of CEFR levels and scaffolds student learning based on their levels of performance and given moments of a program” (Acuña Solano, personal reflection, 2026). Research supports this view. Harmer (2015) notes that coursebooks provide coherence and progression, helping teachers and learners navigate the learning process. Without some form of organized syllabus, instruction can become fragmented and inconsistent. Coursebooks therefore contribute to curricular stability while ensuring that essential language components are addressed systematically.

Lindsay Clandfield, cited in the British Council (n.d.) course materials, highlights several advantages of coursebooks. These include providing structure, offering motivational multimedia content, presenting graded language suitable for learners' proficiency levels, reducing planning time, and serving as a source of methodological ideas. These benefits are especially relevant in educational contexts where teachers face increasing administrative demands and limited preparation time.

The significance of these advantages should not be underestimated. Teachers today often juggle multiple responsibilities, including assessment, reporting, curriculum development, and institutional meetings. In such circumstances, coursebooks can prevent the planning process from becoming a “colossal” burden. Instead of creating every lesson from scratch, instructors can rely on professionally developed materials while focusing their energy on adapting and enriching instruction. Tomlinson (2013) similarly argues that well-designed materials can support both teachers and learners by providing exposure to language, opportunities for interaction, and pathways toward communicative competence. The existence of a structured textbook does not diminish teacher expertise; rather, it can enhance it by freeing teachers to concentrate on the pedagogical decisions that matter most.

The Limitations of Coursebooks

Despite their many advantages, coursebooks are not without limitations. The British Council (n.d.) acknowledges that many teachers feel textbooks do not include everything necessary for effective language learning. Some believe they fail to address all language skills adequately, while others worry that excessive dependence on textbooks can make lessons repetitive and uninspiring. This concern resonates strongly with my own experience. Even when textbooks are developed locally and designed with a country's cultural context in mind, gaps remain inevitable. As I noted in my reflective journaling notes, “Even when books are locally produced taking into account a country and its culture and idiosyncrasy, teachers will always find that something is missing. Well, isn't it our job to supply learners with what is needed to help them develop the language?” (Acuña Solano, personal reflection, 2026).

One reason for these limitations is that coursebooks are designed for broad audiences. Publishers must create materials that appeal to diverse learners across different educational settings, cultures, and objectives. Consequently, the content may appear generic or disconnected from specific learner realities. Tomlinson (2011) observes that many commercial materials prioritize standardization over personalization. While this approach facilitates mass distribution, it can result in learning experiences that lack relevance for particular groups. This issue becomes especially noticeable when teaching adult learners whose professional needs require specialized language and contextualized communication tasks.

Another challenge is that some coursebooks become outdated. The British Council (n.d.) notes that textbooks may reflect assumptions, examples, or cultural references that no longer resonate with learners. In rapidly changing professional environments, examples that were relevant only a few years ago may seem distant or even irrelevant today. This mismatch can create an unsettling classroom experience. Learners may struggle to connect with scenarios that bear little resemblance to their professional lives, interests, or goals. As a result, motivation may decline, and opportunities for meaningful communication may be lost.

The Adult Online Learning Context

The necessity of adaptation becomes particularly apparent when teaching adult learners online. Unlike children or adolescents, adults bring substantial life experience, professional expertise, and clear learning objectives to the classroom. Knowles' (1984) theory of andragogy emphasizes that adult learners are self-directed and motivated by immediate relevance. They want learning experiences that connect directly to their personal and professional realities. Materials that fail to achieve this connection may be perceived as artificial or unnecessary.

My own teaching context illustrates this challenge. As I explained in my reflection:

“The coursebook is a great starting point and helps me focus on the lexis and grammar to be covered in a given unit, but it is my task to work on some kind of differentiation for my learners so they can profit from the thematic unit but within the corporate world” (Acuña Solano, personal reflection, 2026).

When teaching executives, managers, engineers, healthcare professionals, or customer-service representatives, textbook scenarios often require modification. A unit about vacation plans may become a discussion about international business travel. A lesson on daily routines may be transformed into an exploration of workplace productivity and time management. Such adaptations are not departures from the curriculum. Rather, they represent efforts to make learning more meaningful and applicable. Adult learners tend to value opportunities to discuss authentic challenges, workplace communication, and professional interactions. Therefore, adaptation helps bridge the gap between textbook content and real-world language use.

Moreover, online teaching introduces additional considerations. Virtual classrooms require sustained engagement and interaction. Simply moving through textbook exercises page by page can quickly reduce participation. Teachers must therefore create opportunities for discussion, collaboration, problem-solving, and personalized communication. In this sense, adaptation has roots not merely in pedagogical preference but in educational necessity. The online environment demands flexibility and responsiveness if meaningful learning is to occur.

The Teacher as Adapter and Designer

The British Council (n.d.) proposes four primary strategies for adapting coursebook materials: skipping, changing the order, replacing, and supplementing. These strategies provide a practical framework through which teachers can respond to learner needs while maintaining alignment with curricular objectives.

1) The first strategy, skipping, recognizes that not every activity deserves classroom time. Teachers may decide that a task lacks relevance, clarity, or instructional value. Selective omission allows instructors to focus on content that better serves learning goals.

2) The second strategy involves changing the order of materials. Language learning is rarely a perfectly linear process. Teachers may identify opportunities to introduce language earlier than planned or postpone certain activities until learners are better prepared.

3) The third strategy, replacement, allows instructors to substitute more relevant texts, examples, or tasks. This approach is particularly useful when coursebook content fails to reflect learners' interests or professional realities.

4) Finally, supplementation involves adding resources, tasks, and opportunities for practice. Supplementation may be the most common form of adaptation because it enables teachers to preserve valuable textbook content while expanding it in meaningful ways.

My own practice with young adults and working professionals reflects these principles closely:

I have always followed the British Council's recommendation in regards to using a textbook: I skip parts, change the order of elements in a unit, replace content for more contextualized ones to make the class more relevant for my students, and I always supplement the textbook content with many communication activities that are not part of the book to make the class much more communicative and participative (Acuña Solano, personal reflection, 2026).

These actions illustrate an important shift in how teaching expertise is understood. Rather than functioning as mere implementers of published materials, teachers become designers of learning experiences. Their role extends beyond delivering content to interpreting, reshaping, and contextualizing it. Shulman (1987) argues that effective teaching requires pedagogical content knowledge, the ability to transform subject matter into forms that learners can understand and use. Material adaptation represents a practical manifestation of this expertise. Teachers apply their knowledge of learners, contexts, and language development to create more effective educational experiences.

Moving Beyond the Myth of the Perfect Textbook

A persistent belief within ELT is that somewhere there exists a perfect coursebook capable of meeting every learner's needs. However, such a belief is difficult to sustain when examined critically. Reflecting on my own teaching experience, I have concluded that teachers should not expect to find “the perfect book for a group without having to adjust it to learners” (Acuña Solano, personal reflection, 2026). Every class consists of unique individuals with different backgrounds, motivations, strengths, and goals. No textbook can fully account for this diversity.

The notion of the perfect textbook may itself be untenable because learning contexts are inherently dynamic. New technologies emerge, workplace demands evolve, social realities change, and learner expectations shift. Materials that appear highly relevant today may require modification tomorrow. In this line of thought, Scott Thornbury (2017) suggests that effective teaching involves maintaining a critical perspective toward materials rather than accepting them unquestioningly. Teachers must continually examine whether resources support meaningful language use and learner engagement.

This critical stance does not imply hostility toward textbooks. On the contrary, it requires appreciation for the work that authors, editors, researchers, and publishers invest in material development. As Clandfield (as quoted by the British Council, n.d.) notes, many coursebooks are based on years of research and teacher feedback. Recognizing this effort allows teachers to evaluate materials fairly while remaining aware of their limitations. The goal, therefore, is not to reject coursebooks but to approach them with a fresh eye and fresh skills. Teachers must remain willing to reinterpret activities, redesign tasks, and create connections between published content and learner realities.

Conclusion

Coursebooks remain one of the most significant resources available to language teachers. They provide structure, graded content, methodological support, and valuable multimedia resources. Their contribution to curriculum organization and instructional planning is undeniable. At the same time, coursebooks cannot address every learner's needs, interests, or objectives. This limitation becomes particularly evident in adult online learning environments, where professional relevance and authentic communication are essential. Teachers must therefore adapt materials thoughtfully and purposefully.

The British Council's framework of skipping, reordering, replacing, and supplementing offers practical strategies for achieving this goal. These adaptations enable teachers to connect textbook content with learner realities while preserving curricular coherence. Ultimately, effective teaching does not depend on finding the perfect textbook. Rather, it depends on teachers' ability to bring their expertise to bear on available resources. Coursebooks are valuable starting points, but meaningful learning emerges when teachers use them critically, creatively, and responsively. By approaching materials with a fresh eye and fresh skills, instructors can transform even imperfect resources into powerful tools for language development. In doing so, they ensure that textbooks serve learners rather than learners serve textbooks.

San José, Costa Rica

Sunday, June 21, 2026

📚 References

Acuña Solano, J. (2026). Personal reflections on coursebook adaptation and adult online language teaching. Unpublished course notes.

British Council. (2026). TeachingEnglish: How to adapt resources. Module 1, Unit 2: The coursebook. https://open.teachingenglish.org.uk/Team/UserProgrammeDetails/699499?stepId=2

Clandfield, L. (n.d.). Reflections on coursebooks in ELT. In British Council, TeachingEnglish: How to adapt resources.

Harmer, J. (2015). The practice of English language teaching (5th ed.). Pearson.

Knowles, M. S. (1984). The adult learner: A neglected species (3rd ed.). Gulf Publishing.

Shulman, L. S. (1987). Knowledge and teaching: Foundations of the new reform. Harvard Educational Review, 57(1), 1–22. https://doi.org/10.17763/haer.57.1.j463w79r56455411

Thornbury, S. (2017). Scott Thornbury's A–Z of ELT. Macmillan Education.

Tomlinson, B. (2011). Materials development in language teaching (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press.

Tomlinson, B. (2013). Developing materials for language teaching (2nd ed.). Bloomsbury Academic.

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Introduction

The nineteenth century witnessed the flourishing of literary forms that explored the unstable boundaries between “reality” and “the supernatural.” Among these forms, the fantastic emerged as a particularly fertile mode through which authors could interrogate uncertainty, desire, fear, and the fragility of human perception. George Sand, often remembered primarily for her social novels and pastoral narratives, also ventured into the realm of the fantastic in The Drac (1861), a dramatic reverie deeply rooted in folklore, dream imagery, and psychological ambiguity. Sand’s play presents the story of a supernatural sea spirit who assumes human form as a young boy and who falls in love with a female character by the name Francine, only to become entangled in jealousy, deception, and emotional suffering. Through this metamorphosis, Sand constructs a narrative that oscillates between enchantment and terror, while simultaneously examining the instability of identity and desire.

The complexity of The Drac’s plot and characters becomes especially evident when approached through the theoretical framework proposed by Tzvetan Todorov in The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre. Todorov (1975) defines the fantastic as the moment of hesitation experienced by a character and the reader when confronted with apparently supernatural events that resist immediate rational explanation. In George Sand’s play, the Drac’s existence, his transformations, prophetic visions, and manipulations generate precisely this hesitation. Although the play openly incorporates folkloric material, Sand avoids reducing the supernatural to either pure illusion or complete certainty. Instead, she creates a liminal space in which psychological experience, dream states, folklore, and supernatural possibility coexist uneasily.

At the same time, the Drac may also be interpreted through the lens of Carl Jung’s theory of archetypes, particularly the Trickster archetype. In Jungian psychology, the Trickster represents instability, transformation, deception, boundary-crossing, and the chaotic energies that disturb fixed social and psychological structures. The Drac embodies these characteristics repeatedly throughout the play. As a supernatural being, he manipulates perception, creates illusions, impersonates identities, alters written language, and exploits emotional people’s vulnerabilities. Yet he is not merely malicious. Sand portrays him as a tragic and divided being whose contact with humanity generates emotional awakening alongside moral corruption. His actions reveal both the destructive and revelatory dimensions of the Trickster figure.

This essay argues that The Drac functions simultaneously as a fantastic narrative in Todorovian terms and as a profound dramatization of the Jungian Trickster archetype. Through ambiguity, dream logic, metamorphosis, and psychological destabilization, Sand transforms the folkloric Drac into a figure who embodies both the uncertainty central to the fantastic and the disruptive psychological force associated with the Trickster. Ultimately, the play reveals how supernatural narratives may operate not only as folklore or fantasy, but also as symbolic explorations of human consciousness, desire, and identity.

The Fantastic and the Logic of Hesitation

According to Todorov (1975), the fantastic exists in the hesitation between natural and supernatural explanations. He writes that “the fantastic occupies the duration of this uncertainty” (Todorov, 1978, p. 25). The reader must remain uncertain whether the events presented belong to reality, hallucination, illusion, or genuine supernatural intervention. Once the uncertainty is resolved, the narrative shifts either toward the marvelous or the uncanny. Sand’s The Drac carefully preserves this ambiguity throughout much of the text.

The play begins with an atmosphere already immersed in folk superstition and uncertainty. André, Francine’s father, believes in the Drac as a supernatural sea spirit capable of influencing fishing, weather, and fortune. Francine, the female character the Drac falls in love with, however, represents skepticism and rational hesitation. She mocks her father’s offerings to the Drac:

This tension between belief and disbelief establishes the central Todorovian structure of hesitation. Francine neither fully accepts nor completely dismisses the supernatural. Her position mirrors that of the reader, who is invited to question whether the Drac truly exists or whether the events derive from psychological projection, folklore, and emotional instability.

George Sand intensifies this uncertainty through dream states and altered consciousness of the characters in the story. Francine burns the mysterious “Drac herb” while imagining the possibility of supernatural visitation. Almost immediately afterward, the Drac appears as a young boy whom the reader discovers had drowned at the beginning of the play. The transition is ambiguous enough to invite multiple interpretations. Did Francine truly summon a supernatural being, or is the appearance merely theatrical coincidence? Todorov emphasizes that the fantastic depends upon precisely this kind of interpretive instability.

The Drac himself further complicates matters because he experiences uncertainty regarding his own new condition as a human being. After assuming the form of Nicolas, he states:

The supernatural event is treated not as unquestioned reality, but as existential confusion for the Drac in the body of Nicolas. The Drac does not fully understand his transformation or its psychological consequences. He becomes trapped between spirit and humanity, certainty and confusion. Such liminality preserves the fantastic atmosphere because the supernatural remains unstable even to the supernatural being himself.

Dreams also become vehicles of ambiguity. The Drac’s prophetic sleep sequences reveal Bernard’s past, present, and future. Francine becomes convinced of supernatural insight because the Drac reveals details he should not know:

Yet Sand continually frames these revelations within dream logic rather than objective certainty. Dreams occupy a threshold state between reality and illusion, making them ideal instruments for the fantastic. As Todorov (1975) argues, the fantastic often emerges through disturbances of perception and cognition rather than direct supernatural confirmation.

Moreover, the appearance of Bernard’s specter in Act II deepens the uncertainty surrounding reality itself. The specter identifies itself not as Bernard, but as “his image, his double, his specter.” The concept of the double is central to fantastic literature because it destabilizes identity and challenges empirical certainty. Sand explicitly references this tradition in the Preface, where she mentions “another spirit, more troubling and more sinister, which everywhere is known as the double.”

The false Bernard becomes a manifestation of psychological and supernatural uncertainty simultaneously. Francine recognizes Bernard physically, yet senses that something is profoundly wrong:

This disjunction between appearance and essence exemplifies the fantastic destabilization of identity. Sand invites readers to question not only what is real, but whether human perception itself can reliably distinguish truth from illusion.

The Drac as Jungian Trickster

While Todorov’s framework explains the structural ambiguity of the play, Jungian psychology illuminates the symbolic and psychological dimensions of the Drac as character. In Jung’s writings, the Trickster archetype embodies contradiction, disorder, transformation, and the primitive forces lurking beneath civilization. Jung (1968) describes the Trickster as a figure associated with “deceit, shape-shifting, and disruption of ordinary consciousness” (p. 255). The Drac exhibits all these qualities throughout Sand’s narrative.

Most obviously, the Drac is a shapeshifter. He assumes Nicolas’s body after the child’s death:

Shape-shifting is fundamental to Trickster figures across mythological traditions. The Trickster destabilizes fixed identity categories and exposes the artificiality of social boundaries. By becoming human, the Drac enters a liminal state that allows him to cross between worlds: spirit and human, dream and reality, innocence and corruption.

The Drac also embodies the Trickster’s deceptive relationship with language and truth. He is able to manipulate conversations, create false impressions, and alter meaning repeatedly. One of the clearest examples occurs when he persuades Bernard to write “I forget you,” only to magically transform the inscription into “I despise you.” Language itself becomes unstable under the Drac’s influence.

This manipulation of signs reflects the Trickster’s role as corrupter of communication and mediator of chaos. The Drac exploits misunderstandings rather than direct violence. His power lies in distortion, illusion, and emotional confusion. Jungian critics frequently observe that the Trickster destabilizes rational systems by exposing their fragility. The Drac accomplishes this through psychological manipulation rather than brute force.

Furthermore, the Drac represents the eruption of repressed emotional energies. Initially, he claims to love Francine with spiritual purity:

Yet human embodiment introduces jealousy, rage, and possessiveness:

The Trickster archetype often symbolizes instinctual drives that civilized consciousness attempts to repress. The Drac’s tragedy lies in his inability to reconcile spiritual freedom with human emotional complexity. His transformation becomes not merely physical, but psychological and moral.

Jung (1968) argues that Trickster figures frequently occupy morally ambiguous positions. They are neither entirely evil nor entirely benevolent. The Drac exemplifies this ambiguity. He genuinely loves Francine and experiences profound suffering. His monologues reveal existential despair rather than pure villainy:

This suffering humanizes him while preserving his destructive potential. Sand avoids creating a simplistic demonic antagonist. Instead, the Drac becomes a fragmented consciousness torn between supernatural freedom and human limitation.

The Drac also functions as a destabilizer of social order, another characteristic associated with Trickster figures. He manipulates André through illusions of wealth, exploiting greed and vanity. He destabilizes Francine and Bernard’s reconciliation through deception and psychological interference. He conjures specters, confuses perception, and encourages despair. Wherever the Drac intervenes, social harmony deteriorates.

At the same time, the Trickster archetype often exposes hidden truths. The Drac reveals suppressed fears, insecurities, and desires within the human characters. Bernard’s guilt, André’s greed, and Francine’s emotional vulnerability emerge more clearly under supernatural pressure. Thus, the Drac functions simultaneously as corrupter and revealer.

Dreams, Doubles, and Psychological Fragmentation

One of the most significant intersections between Todorovian and Jungian approaches in this play narrative appears in George Sand’s use of dreams and doubles. Both theories recognize that fractured identity and unstable perception generate profound psychological disturbance. The motif of the double has a long tradition within fantastic literature. Critics such as Sigmund Freud (2003) associated doubles with the uncanny, particularly in relation to repressed fears and divided consciousness. In The Drac, the “false Bernard” represents not merely a magical imitation, but a distorted reflection of Bernard’s past self. The specter amplifies Bernard’s former cruelty, selfishness, and violence. It is for this reason that Francine remarks:

The “false Bernard” externalizes the moral corruption Bernard fears within himself. Thus, it can be also stated that the supernatural double functions psychologically as an embodiment of guilt and unresolved identity.

Similarly, the Drac himself becomes a divided being. He repeatedly expresses confusion regarding his nature in the body of a human:

This fragmentation aligns closely with Jungian notions of psychic division. The Drac loses coherence as he absorbs human emotions and does not know how to cope with them. His supernatural identity dissolves into contradiction, making him increasingly unstable and losing control of his feelings.

Dream states reinforce this instability. Characters repeatedly experience blurred boundaries between waking and dreaming. Francine’s visions, André’s greed-induced trance, and Bernard’s despair all occur within psychologically altered states. The Drac himself governs dreams, calling himself “the king of dreams—the Drac with azure wings!” (Sand, 2026).

Dreams in the play function not merely as narrative devices to develop the plot, but as symbolic spaces where unconscious fears and desires manifest visibly. Jung viewed dreams as expressions of archetypal energies emerging from the unconscious mind. Sand’s use of dream imagery therefore complements the Jungian reading of the Drac as archetypal disruptor. At the same time, dreams preserve Todorovian hesitation because they destabilize epistemological certainty. If supernatural experiences occur within dreams, can they be trusted? Sand never provides definitive answers to this question. Instead, she allows dreams and waking life to contaminate one another continuously producing some kind of uncertainty in the mind of the reader of the text or the viewer of the drama being performed.

Folklore, Nature, and the Fantastic Sublime

Sand’s (2026) Preface emphasizes the folkloric origins of the Drac legend and situates the narrative within a maritime landscape of isolation, danger, and sublimity. The setting itself contributes significantly to the fantastic atmosphere. The coastal environment appears uncanny and almost supernatural even before the Drac emerges. Sand describes the reefs as “an army of livid specters” and emphasizes the terrifying beauty of the sea. Nature becomes psychologically charged, reflecting both Romantic aesthetics and fantastic uncertainty.

This emphasis on landscape aligns George Sand with Romantic traditions associated with authors such as E. T. A. Hoffmann and Charles Nodier, both of whom linked the fantastic to emotional and perceptual instability. The natural world in The Drac is never entirely separable from supernatural possibility. Moreover, Sand explicitly associates folklore with collective imagination:

This statement reveals Sand’s awareness that the fantastic emerges culturally as much as individually. The Drac exists within communal belief systems, oral traditions, and emotional experience. Consequently, the supernatural cannot be dismissed easily because it reflects shared symbolic structures.

Jungian theory similarly emphasizes the collective dimension of archetypes. The Trickster is not merely an individual psychological phenomenon, but a recurring symbolic pattern embedded within cultural narratives across civilizations. Sand’s Drac therefore participates in both local folklore and universal archetypal symbolism.

Conclusion

George Sand’s The Drac occupies a fascinating position within nineteenth-century fantastic literature because it intertwines folklore, psychological conflict, dream imagery, and supernatural ambiguity into a profoundly symbolic narrative. Through the theoretical perspectives of Tzvetan Todorov and Carl Jung, the play reveals remarkable complexity beneath its seemingly simple folkloric premise.

From a Todorovian perspective, The Drac sustains the hesitation essential to the fantastic through ambiguity, dream states, doubles, and unstable perception. Sand avoids fully resolving whether the supernatural events in the plot should be interpreted literally, psychologically, or symbolically. Instead, she preserves uncertainty as the narrative’s central aesthetic experience. Characters and readers alike become trapped within a liminal space where reality and illusion overlap continuously.

Simultaneously, the Drac functions as a powerful embodiment of the Jungian Trickster archetype. Through shapeshifting, deception, emotional manipulation, and disruption of social order, he destabilizes both external reality and internal consciousness. Yet Sand presents him not merely as a malicious spirit, but as a tragic figure transformed and corrupted by human passion. His suffering reveals the psychological dangers inherent in desire, jealousy, and identity fragmentation.

The intersection of the fantastic and the archetypal ultimately gives The Drac its enduring richness. Sand transforms a regional sea spirit into a universal symbolic figure who embodies uncertainty, emotional chaos, and the instability of the self. The play suggests that the supernatural may operate less as an external force than as an expression of hidden psychological realities. In doing so, Sand anticipates later psychological approaches to fantastic literature and demonstrates how folklore can become a vehicle for profound explorations of consciousness and human desire.

San José, Costa Rica

Friday, June 12, 2026

 

📚 References

Freud, Sigmund. (2003). The uncanny (D. McLintock, Trans.). Penguin Books. (Original work published 1919)

Jung, Carl. (1968). The archetypes and the collective unconscious (2nd ed., R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). Princeton University Press.

Sand, George. (1861/2026). The Drac: A fantastic reverie in three acts (Translated edition).

Todorov, Tzvetan. (1975). The fantastic: A structural approach to a literary genre (R. Howard, Trans.). Cornell University Press.