History
Werewolves Explained: Is Lycanthropy a Blessing or a Curse?
What’s in a werewolf? How fear and loathing shape the untamed beast, and why we’re obsessed with things that howl in the night
It was a dark and stormy night.
The camera pans in on a forest, moving steadily to a crest illuminated by a cloud-ringed harvest moon. The air hangs fragrant and thick with mist. Bats scatter as the hillock comes into view. A shadow mounts the outlook, rearing its head back. A chilling howl reverberates through the night.
Humans and wolves have always struggled against one another. Wolves kill our livestock and members of our communities. We kill wolves in return. Many hunters have sought to harness the stealth and efficiency of these wild predators. Many more have struggled to eradicate them entirely.
What, then, do we make of hunters that blur the lines between human and monster? What do we make of werewolves?
What makes a werewolf? Why are werewolves cropping up in our fantasy media, filling screens with chiseled abs and barely controlled aggression? What can we learn from female werewolves? And do we still need to fear these creatures today?
Early werewolves
Early wolf-hunting folklore describes brave trappers who dressed in wolf pelts to get close enough to kill these wild canines. The similarities between man and wolf are difficult to miss. Both are crafty predators at the top of the food chain. Where do the lines between man and wolf begin to blur?¹
Lycon and Zeus
King Lycon of Arcadia was already a terrible tyrant by the time Zeus decided to visit him. Zeus planned to test Lycon’s hospitality. But before the god had even had the chance to settle into his quarters, Lycon had already guessed his guest’s motives.¹
He tried to feed Zeus a poisoned dish made of his stepson (or grandson, depending on the tale) to see if his visitor was truly immortal. Enraged, Zeus destroyed his fortress, cast him out into the wilderness, and turned him into a wolf to spend the rest of his days eating only the flesh he’d seen fit to serve his guests.¹
This punishment sets up a pretty grim outlook for one of the first wolf-men, and yet we don’t know whether king Lycon went mad during his days hunting flesh on the outskirts of town. The king’s name was later used to diagnose mentally ill patients with lycanthropy, a delusion that makes sufferers think they are turning into animals.
But we also know that wolves could be guiding forces of nature. The mythical Roman founders Romulus and Remus were nursed by a she-wolf. Then again the wolf-monster Fenrir played a large role in the Norse Ragnarök, or the end of the world.
Perhaps being turned into a wolf was Lycon’s own personal hell. All other wolves need not apply.
Loup garous, werewolf panic, and the Beast of Gévaudan
A fearsome pack of wolves known as Les Loups de Paris began attacking citizens during the hundred years’ war (1337–1453) but were captured during the summer of 1439 when residents drove them to the Ile de La Cité, a natural island within the city of Paris.¹
These wolves were said to have been hyper-intelligent, and much larger than average. Today, Loup Garous are French or French-Canadian werewolves, doomed to walk as wolves as penance for sin.
Werewolf panics swept Europe (settling in Switzerland and Germany) in the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries, resulting in werewolf trials and hundreds of executions. Many of the suspected “werewolves” were beggars, hermits, or recent immigrants killed for the simple crime of being poor and unfortunate. Among those accused immigrants was Gilles Garnier.
But German medical historian Nadine Metzger says that and the number of real wolves in Europe declined as industrialization and population grew, the werewolf craze gave way to other manias and mass hysterias more appropriate for changing times.
The Beast of Gévaudan, which terrorized south-central France in the the1760s was far less human. The beast attacked mostly women and girls, drinking their blood and leaving nothing but a pile of bones. Attacks became so prevalent that King Louis XV set a handsome bounty on the creature’s head. In the fall of 1765 François Antoine, Louis’ lieutenant of the hunt, subdued the “Wolf of Chazes” and the matter was settled… until attacks continued the following summer. Even today, rumors circulate that meneurs de loups still control packs of wolves in the forest, far away from anything familiar to the laws of man.
Danish werewolves are built differently
Much of the lore surrounding werewolf curses, including the common knowledge that one becomes a werewolf by surviving a bite from the creature and that no cure exists for the beastly condition, simply doesn’t apply to Danish folklore. Instead, young mothers are in charge of werewolves’ fates — and someone else’s baby is often the cure.²
Danish maidens knew that if they spread a horse’s placenta wide enough for them to crawl through, they could avoid a painful pregnancy. But there were consequences to this undetected crime. The child wouldn’t turn out quite right.²
If the mother who had tried this trick gave birth to a baby girl, that child would become a ‘night-mare’ or demon horse, and if she gave birth to a son, he would become a werewolf. The only cure for his condition would be to attack a pregnant woman and eat her unborn child. If he completed this inhuman task, the werewolf would (ironically) become a man.²
The werewolf curse was meant to act as a deterrent for young women who wanted to try out the horse-placenta trick. Who would want to raise a monster baby? Moreover, it was widely believed that the only women who wanted to avoid a painful birth were ladies who wanted to hide their pregnancies.²
For upstanding Danish maidens, doctors prescribed labor pains and normal motherhood for the long haul. No one needed any paranormal babies in this part of town.
Female Werewolves
As Danish werewolves attest, hungry monsters didn’t always hunt flesh. They often craved the wombs or children that were said to cure their disease. The wolf is a sexual predator, resurfacing as the smarmy villain in Perrault’s original rendition of Little Red Riding Hood.
There aren’t many female werewolf stories. Why is that?
There is a long record of female werewolves, from Isabella of France to Catherine Simon of Andermatt in Switzerland (who were both executed in the Early Modern Period) to the hairy Gonsalvus sisters who held positions in the court of Henry II.
Victorian gothic literature painted suffragettes as werewolf types — “preying on families and upending the gendered status quo, recognizable by their supernaturally shining eyes, foreign accents and aristocratic penchant for white fur.” The sexism bleeds clear through the above analogy.
Riddle me this: what changes occur in women for one week every month, and are also supposedly tied to the shifting moon?
MENSTRUATION!
While the link between blood-lusting vampires and sexual lust might already be apparent in the Twilight saga, let’s not forget that (1) changing appetites and (2) hair that suddenly appears where there wasn’t any before are hallmarks of female puberty and transformation.
Many modern takes on the female were-beast use this trope to their advantage, showing the heroine stepping into her wilder, brasher self when she first transforms into the creature that will follow her for the rest of her life.
Do they *have* to be wolves, though?
Around the world, different cultures have told stories about shape-shifters based on what predators compete with humans in these areas.
In India, these beings turn into tigers or snakes. In Finland, they might turn into reindeer. In South America, a jaguar. And in North American (and especially Inuit) cultures, transformation into the form of a bear is a common theme.¹
This ability is often a gift or at the very least a neutral experience. But other transformations are a bit murkier.
In Africa, were-hyenas run wild. While hyenas destroy homes, cackling and creating a ruckus, the word for ‘werewolf’ in Ethiopia is also associated with the evil eye. According to creation folklore, Eve was the mother of 30 children. When God asked to see these youngsters, she only brought forth 15 of her offspring — and as punishment, the remaining 15 became bouda, wolfish members of the lowest class (and usually Jews) who could wield the evil eye against anyone more fortunate.
Just as occurred in the Werewolf Panic of the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries, this is an example of lycanthropy used to justify the marginalization of minority groups or vulnerable members of society. Here, the curse surrounding wolf-men isn’t paranormal or spectacular. Discrimination, unfortunately, remains an incredibly human affair.
Where are all the wolves, anyway?
Is turning into a wolf a blessing or a curse? We should perhaps ask the wolves.
Despite their strength, wolves have been in danger for much of modern history. Wolves were eradicated from England under the rule of King Henry VII. The last Scottish wolf fell in 1680, and by 1930, no native wolves were left in the continental US. The gray wolves reintroduced to Yellowstone National Park were imported from Canada to manage the park’s unhealthy elk population in 1995. Their presence — and wolf research as a whole — remains super controversial.¹
As we consider werewolves’ popularity in pop culture today, it is important to remember that actual wolves are and always have been under threat.
Were-beasts in popular culture
From Little Red Riding Hood to Wolf-Man (1941)and Disney’s Brother Bear (2003) and Brave (2012), to Wolfwalkers (2020) and Twilight (2012), we’ve learned a lot of different messages about were-beasts.
Werewolves are terrifying.
Werewolves are just like us.
Werewolves are rebels.
Werewolves are… sexy?
There’s a lot to unpack here.
Wolf-man makeup and scientific explanations for lycanthropy
There are of course possible medical explanations for wolf-men. We can turn to madness and lycanthropy, a delusion that makes the sufferer think they are turning into animals. Other explanations include drugs, poisoning, and hypertrichosis — a condition that causes excess hair growth, especially on the face. Porphyria, a hereditary blood disease that leads to a buildup of toxins and symptoms in the body is another likely candidate for medical werewolfism. Leprosy and syphilis are also strong contenders.³
But Dutch anthropologist Willem de Blécourt suggests that werewolves came first. All medical explanations came later, and only reinforced the werewolf canon.³
With the advent of film media, wolf-man makeup drew from these medical references, creating “a hairy, distorted, humanlike creature walking on two legs, clothed, but uttering incomprehensible sounds. Theories about feral children and sufferers from porphyria… suited this new visuality, were shaped by it, and in turn perpetuated by it.” ³
And yet with the turn of the century, other werewolves began to bear not the image of a debilitating disease, but youthful strength. Wolves, no longer beasts, transformed again into objects of desire.
Why are werewolves sexy?
As attraction is objective, I can’t define Why. Werewolves. Are. Sexy.
But I can try.
There is the appeal that were-beasts can embrace their animal nature. That they can turn a curse into a superpower and become much stronger, much more formidable in their wolfish form.
Werewolves rarely exist in a vacuum — they’re often accompanied by vampires, witches, and other magical creatures whose abilities complement each other and contribute to a fantastical escape from our usual powerlessness. Moreover, the abundance of werewolf fanfiction allows the writer to control this mysterious world (and the powerful werewolves within.)
And of course, if you have spent enough time on social media, you’ve likely already encountered the Omegaverse, an alternate universe in erotic fanfiction best described in this Mashable article.
Werewolves are sexy because they have to embrace their wilder nature. They have to protect loved ones from their darkness. And they have to be strong enough to keep their identity secret in an ever-evolving world.
A world where secrets can be deadlier than the truth.
Modern werewolves
Yes, there are weird and often unpleasant sides to the rise in werewolf popularity. There are even racist werewolf cults located in the US today. But werewolves have a lot more to offer if you’re willing to move past the parts of the internet that value wolves for their brute strength and dig in deeper. There’s an explosion of werewolf fiction and a rich history of were-beasts to explore.
Werewolf folklore doesn’t stop at European wolf hunts and Twilight fanfiction. Modern werewolf warnings spread to parts of the world suffering extreme weather, seemingly caused by forces outside their control (see this academic paper describing supposed werewolf sightings and another look at werewolf folklore after cyclone Hollanda in Mauritius.)⁴
And while you might not believe in werewolves per se, you might believe in other were-beasts or creatures of the night like Mothman or the Jersey Devil.
There are upsides to this cultural focus on werewolves. Werewolves are intensely connected to nature. In Wolfwalkers (2020) the main character Robyn must leave her township and risk everything for her friend Mebh. She chooses to live in the forest as a wolf when the limitations of her town and the strictures of local rulers become too oppressive.
Hunter, hunted — werewolves and mythological beings are probably the ultimate environmental warriors.
What do we make of werewolves?
Werewolves are terrifying. Rebels. Just like us. And yes, they are sexy, too.
And from world history to Disney and Halloween Horror Nights, werewolves are on the prowl just about everywhere you look. But werewolves are also hunted. They are feminine and stepping into their power. They are one historical example of mania in a long mishmash of folklore and fact. They are cursed humans who learn to wield their claws to their advantage.
And they are very possibly hiding in plain sight.
Works cited:
[1] Roby, Cynthia A. Werewolves. 1st ed., Cavendish Square Publishing LLC, 2015.
[2] Simonsen, Michèle. “Danish Werewolves Between Beliefs and Narratives.” Fabula, vol. 51, no. 3–4, 2010, pp. 225–34, https://doi.org/10.1515/fabl.2010.022.
[3] Willem de Blécourt. “Monstrous Theories: Werewolves and the Abuse of History.” Preternature, vol. 2, no. 2, 2013, pp. 188–212, https://doi.org/10.5325/preternature.2.2.0188.
[4] Walshe, Rory A., et al. “Werewolves and Warning Signs: Cultural Responses to Tropical Cyclones in Mauritius.” Geoforum, vol. 133, 2022, pp. 56–65, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.geoforum.2022.05.011.
