Sleepwalking
Sleepwalking, or somnambulism, emerges as a crucial interpretive device in the narrative when Laura's father seizes upon it to explain the otherwise inexplicable disappearance of Carmilla from her locked bedroom. After the household's frantic search fails to locate her, and she is later found asleep on a sofa in her dressing room, Laura's father advances the theory that Carmilla must have risen in her sleep, unlocked her door, and wandered through the castle before returning to a different location and waking spontaneously. This hypothesis, offered with a reassuring laugh, is meant to dispel the growing terror of supernatural agency and to restore a sense of ordinary domestic safety. Yet the very need for such an explanation—and its ultimate failure to account for the locked doors, the undisturbed windows, and the pattern of attacks on Laura—marks sleepwalking as a rationalist fiction that the story's accumulating horrors will decisively shatter.
The Proposal of the Sleepwalking Hypothesis
The sleepwalking theory is first articulated by Laura's father in the immediate aftermath of Carmilla's baffling disappearance and reappearance. When Carmilla is discovered missing from her room, the doors locked from the inside and the windows secured, the household is thrown into agitation. After she is found hours later on the dressing-room sofa, claiming to have no memory of how she got there, Laura's father takes her hand, leads her to the sofa, and sits beside her to ask directly: "Have you ever been suspected of walking in your sleep?" Carmilla admits that she did walk in her sleep when she was very young, as her old nurse often told her. Seizing on this, Laura's father constructs a detailed scenario: she got up in her sleep, unlocked the door, took the key with her, locked it on the outside, and then wandered through the castle's many rooms and closets before eventually lying down in the dressing room, where she awoke naturally. He presents this as "the most natural explanation," one that involves "no drugging, no tampering with locks, no burglars, or poisoners, or witches." The explanation is designed to calm the household and to reassure Carmilla herself, but it also serves to contain the threat within the bounds of a known, harmless medical condition.
The Inadequacy of the Explanation
Despite its surface plausibility, the sleepwalking hypothesis fails to address several key facts that the narrative has already established. Carmilla's door was found locked on the inside, and the key was not in the lock—yet she could not have locked it from the outside without leaving the key in the lock on the other side. The windows were secured, and no other exit was apparent. More fundamentally, the sleepwalking theory cannot account for the pattern of Laura's nocturnal sufferings: the dreams of a black creature, the sensation of needles piercing her breast, the growing lassitude, and the discovery of a small blue puncture mark on her throat. Laura's father himself, despite his confident tone, seems uneasy; he later confides to the doctor that he "wish[es] all mysteries were as easily and innocently explained." The narrative thus positions sleepwalking as a comforting but ultimately hollow rationalization, one that the reader—and Laura herself—is invited to see through as the evidence of vampirism accumulates.
Narrative Function and Thematic Significance
Sleepwalking functions in the story as a red herring, a pseudo-scientific explanation that the text deploys to heighten the tension between the mundane and the supernatural. It allows the characters to maintain a semblance of normalcy even as the horror deepens, and it gives Laura's father a way to exercise paternal authority and reassurance. Thematically, sleepwalking represents the limits of Enlightenment rationalism when confronted with the preternatural. Laura's father, a man of reason and good sense, can only interpret the inexplicable through the lens of a known medical phenomenon; he cannot yet conceive of a vampire. The eventual revelation that Carmilla is the vampire Mircalla, Countess Karnstein, retroactively exposes the sleepwalking theory as a desperate and inadequate attempt to domesticate the monstrous. In the end, sleepwalking is not the truth but a placeholder for the truth—a name given to what cannot yet be named.