by Sierra Dafoe The Werewolf is a creature whose existence (whether in truth or simply in our imaginations) is almost as old as written history. The first literary reference to werewolves is in the Epic of Gilgamesh (2000 BC), and Lycaon, the character whose name became the basis of the scientific term lycanthrope is a product of Greek mythology. In the 13th century, an English canonical lawyer, Gervase of Tilbury, first associated the werewolf's transformations with the waxing and waning of the moon, but this particular conceit of werewolf legend (along with the Lycan's purported susceptibility to silver) is more a product of modern-day literary and cinematic conceit.

In the Old Norse, a Vargulf (literally "outlaw wolf") was one that went on rampages, killing, but seldom eating, large numbers of herd animals. These vargulfs were in some ways analogous to or a basis for the ulfhednar of Norse mythology -- berserkers who dressed in wolfskins and claimed to be possessed by the wolf's spirit during battle, making them impervious to pain and injury. I was fascinated by this aspect of werewolf mythology -- that these men, 'spiritually' transmuted into wolves, became almost superhuman in their strength and ferocity.

In France, where I'd already decided my BloodWolf would be from, the loup-garou had an intriguing rise and fall of fortune. In the 12th century poem Bisclaveret by Marie de France, the werewolf makes his first appearance as hero. Far from being a terrifying monster, the nobleman Bisclaveret is in fact a deeply honorable creature, betrayed by his wife who steals and hides the clothes he needs to don to regain his human form. Trapped in wolf shape, he is almost killed in a royal wolf-hunt, but pleads for his life and is spared by the king. In fact, Bisclaveret was so gentle of nature that he became the king's most trusted companion and advisor. Other 'hero' werewolves appeared in William and the Werewolf (translated into English about 1350), and German fairy tales contain numerous stories of nobles temporarily transformed into beasts (Beauty and the Beast being perhaps the most famous).

But then, in the 16th century, there were numerous Inquisition trials against purported werewolves, with three well-documented cases occurring in 1598 alone. Almost none of the accused were determined to be actual werewolves, and eventually the loup-garou regained, at least in France, his moderately benign stature. Still, I was intrigued by this rash of "werewolf fever" and, being a writer, began speculating. Could these be, perhaps, traces of an ancient family, a clan of werewolves? Hey, I'm a fiction writer, why not?

Another bit of lore I found fascinating was the belief in Brazil, Argentina and Portugal, among other countries, that the seventh son in a family invariably becomes a werewolf. So prevalent was this idea that seventh sons were often abandoned, given up for adoption, or killed outright. Finally, in 1920 (yes, 1920!) a law was passed making the President of Argentina the honorary godfather of all seventh sons, and those boys so born were gifted with a gold medal and a scholarship. The tradition continues to this day.

There have been numerous attempts to explain the prevalence of werewolf beliefs, including rabies, hypertrichosis (which results in massive hair growth all over the body), and ergot poisoning (ergot is a fungus that grows in rye and can produce hallucinations similar to LSD). But none of these attempts come close to explaining the deep and abiding hold werewolves retain on our imagination. Both demon and protector, cold-blooded killer and solitary exile, the werewolf entrances us with his contradictions, his savagery, nobility, and wildness.

Sierra Dafoe