Claudia’s obsession with dolls represents her yearning for the normal human life she can never have. When Louis feeds on Claudia before turning her into a vampire, he describes her as “a jointless doll,” explicitly connecting Claudia with the toys she often carries around. Dolls are typically associated with childhood, youth, and innocence. For Claudia, they symbolize the stages of life she will never experience. Due to being forever stuck in a five-year-old’s body, people will never look at Claudia and see her as she really is: a being far too old and mature to play with dolls. Put differently, each doll is a reminder of the natural (human) progression from childhood to adulthood that she will never experience.
Eventually, Claudia meets Madeleine, a dollmaker in search of a surrogate daughter. Claudia insists that Louis turn Madeleine into a vampire, thinking that Madeleine’s presence will fill the void inside her. After Madeleine becomes a vampire, she burns her doll shop to the ground, believing she has finally found a suitable replacement for her daughter. However, just like Louis and Lestat, Madeleine treats Claudia as if she is a doll rather than an equal—a plaything to be controlled rather than a fellow vampire.
Dolls Quotes in Interview with the Vampire
“She was to be the demon child forever,” he said, his voice soft as if he wondered at it. “Just as I am the young man I was when I died. And Lestat? The same. But her mind. It was a vampire’s mind. And I strained to know how she moved towards womanhood. She came to talk more, though she was never other than a reflective person and could listen to me patiently by the hour without interruption. Yet more and more her doll-like face seemed to possess two totally aware adult eyes, and innocence seemed lost somewhere with neglected toys and the loss of a certain patience. There was something dreadfully sensual about her lounging on the settee in a tiny nightgown of lace and stitched pearls; she became an eerie and powerful seductress, her voice as clear and sweet as ever, though it had a resonance which was womanish, a sharpness sometimes that proved shocking.”
“‘Will you care for her, Madeleine?’ I saw her hands clutch at the doll, turning its face against her breast. And my own hand went out for it, though I did not know why, even as she was answering me.
“‘Yes!’ She repeated it again desperately.
“‘Is this what you believe her to be, a doll?’ I asked her, my hand closing on the doll’s head, only to feel her snatch it away from me, see her teeth clenched as she glared at me.
“‘A child who can’t die! That’s what she is,’ she said, as if she were pronouncing a curse.”