Medieval werewolves were a popular subject, but they were quite different from the slavering, unreasoning beasts of later depictions. Werewolves weren’t necessarily bad, and retained the ability to reason. Even the transformation was different.
One way of man-to-wolf transformation is to wear a wolfskin – this is most common in Old Norse-Icelandic literature, where the wolf-man is frequently referred to in skin-related terms, echoing the tradition of berserkr and úlfheðnar, battle-frenzied warriors wearing nothing but bear/wolf skin. Gerald of Wales (1146 – 1223) also reports a priest encountering a werewolf couple while travelling across the region of Ossory in Ireland. When the priest refused to perform last rites for the dying she-wolf, fearing that she might be some Devil ’s trick, the man-wolf ‘unzips ’ the wolfskin to reveal an old woman underneath, as if it were just a coat. The difference in transformative mode results in a difference in emphasis: when the wolf comes out of the man, it is as if the wolf – the wolf is the essence. In the medieval portrayal, on the other hand, even though in some cases the wolfskin/form does bring out the beast within, the man is only wrapped,hidden, but never destroyed, and the werewolf is more like a riddle, waiting to be solved.
In Jim C. Hines’s Princess series, I loved that the character of Red Hood was this form of werewolf – the inside of her red cape was a wolfskin. If she flipped it so the wolfskin was on the outside, she transformed.
Medieval werewolves got along just fine in knightly and courtly sense.
‘Be a wolf, have the understanding of … a man!’
The quote above is from Arthur and Gorlagon, [English starts on page 24] one of the four Arthurian Romances written in Latin. In the story, King Gorlagon is turned into a wolf by his treacherous wife. She could have gotten away with the crime, had she not made the mistake of enhancing ‘the understanding of a man ’ instead of ‘the understanding of a wolf ’. A most unlikely mistake, and most unfortunate on the wife’s part, but it brings another major difference between modern and medieval werewolves: the medieval ones are rarely savage monsters; instead, they can be surprisingly intelligent, rational, and well-behaved. Melion, Bisclavret, and Gorlagon find no difficulty in mingling with the king ’s knights and courtiers – Gorlagon even sits on the horse and waits on the king’s table ‘with his forepaws erect ’. Granted, courtesy does not make werewolves mild and friendly creatures, but even when they perform some deeds of violence, that violence is well justified. Take Bisclavret for example: the wolf inflicts great harm upon his wife and her lover, but the action is read as revenge, thus confirming, rather than forfeiting the wolf ’s humanity.
Werewolf (1512).Lucas Cranach the Elder .Gotha,Herzogliches Museum (Landesmuseum).
Other differences were transformation triggers; Medieval werewolves were not ruled by the full moon. Bisclavret transformed at will, with no regard to the moon. There were two tales which did take a lunar trigger into account:
The only example of a full moon transformation is found in Otia Imperialia or ‘Recreation for an Emperor’, a speculum written by Gervase of Tilbury (1150 – 1220) for Otto IV (1175 –1218). Gervase reports men turning into wolves ‘according to the cycles of the moon’. He gives two examples:The first, is a certain Pons de Chapteuil, a knight-turned-vagabond that becomes mad while ‘wandering alone like a wild beast … deranged by extreme fear’. Despite Gervase’s earlier mention of the moon, Pons de Chapteuil’s transformation is primarily a physical manifestation of his social identity and emotion. The other werewolf is Chaucevaire, who does transform under lunar influence, but does so only when there is a new moon, the opposite to a traditional full moon transformation. The connection between the werewolf and the moon the etymology of the Latin word moon, luna, which is associated with lunatics. Their loss of human reason dehumanizes them, rendering them figurative beasts, which, as the previous point shows, apparently is not the case with most werewolves.
In the Discworld Watch books, Terry Pratchett compromised with his primary werewolf character, Delphine Angua von Uberwald, who could transform at will, but was subject to an irresistible trigger at the full moon. Medieval werewolves also didn’t have an appearance which was distinct from natural wolves. They might have been a bit larger, but that was all, so there was no easy way to distinguish a werewolf.
I can’t help thinking that Aargh, the English Wolf would have considered them all with disdain.
From Medievalists, an article by Minji Su, Current DPhil student at Oxford university, researching on werewolves in medieval Icelandic literature.
What is that he has at the top, hot dogs?
That’s really cool. It makes a werewolf far more interesting than just a frothing, ravening beast (and to be fair to beasts, even THEY are not that cartoonishly violent) and shows a very different mindset towards other creatures.
Ancient werewolves (versipelles -- lit. “turnskins”) tended to transform for periods of their lives, either several years at a time or a few days each year. Pliny the Elder tells a story of a whole family in Arcadia in southern Greece who all transformed for nine years and then changed back. Herodotus says that some Scythian tribes in the far north turn into wolves occasionally for hunting. And then there’s King Lycaon in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, who was turned into a wolf by Zeus because he tried to test the god’s omniscience by offering the burned flesh of his own son as a sacrifice. I wonder how influential these versions were on the Norse myths? People like Gervase and Gerald would have been intimately familiar with Ovid and Pliny from their studies at university, but I doubt the skalds of Medieval Iceland would have known much about them.
Marcus, no idea. I can’t find a descriptor for that particular illustration at the British Museum. Sausages?
Kestrel, yeah, I agree! And I really appreciate authors who go more with the Medieval model.
Cartomancer! Did you see this? And Marcus’s comment below?
Cartomancer:
That’s an interesting question. The article does mention the alliance between Norse werewolves and Draugr.
Very interesting. Certainly adds another perspective, though I admit the traditional Latvian concept is different again in several respects (turning was a conscious act of choice, mostly, with a set ritual to follow). But then there’s two sorts of werewolves in Latvian myth/folklore, the vilkatis, the more ordinary sort, and the sumpurnis (possibly derived from the compound word for ‘dog snout’), usually a grumpy and potentially violent victim of a curse a la Beauty and the Beast. Sometimes just a beast, but with the implication of humanity underneath.
rq, very cool. I love old werewolf legends, because they have so much more depth than the silly modern ones.
Its’ amazing how one author, Kurt Siodmak, changed the entire concept of werewolves and made them so much less interesting. Wolves aren’t monsters, Le Bete Gevaudan not withstanding.
BTW, I first read the title as Medicinal Werewolves which probably deserves an article of tis’ own.
The Myths and Legends podcast just had a really good episode about werewolves, for anyone interested: https://www.mythpodcast.com/12891/87-werewolves-the-lost/
Marcus, #1
My best guess would be that those are his shoes. There is a late Medieval folkloric connection between red shoes and certain kinds of unforeseen magical social disruptions -- dancing plagues and the like. They also serve as a marker of status and vanity to some extent, which might be important.
Caine, #5
I had not seen those posts yet. But I have now. I’m very flattered. I have thought about starting a blog many times over the last few years, but I have concluded that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I am prone to a certain degree of emotional instability, and having a public outlet for my darker moods when the muse of despair is upon me would not be edifying for anyone concerned. Just ask my facebook friends what a raving were-emo I can be at my worst. When others set the agenda and I only comment it tends to work better.
Cartomancer:
You know best of course, but consider that the rest of us are quite often raving were-emos too, and we haven’t been kicked out yet.
Cartomancer:
That’s very interesting. I have a high number of red shoes, love them. I’m also reminded of Pratchett’s Witches Abroad, where Esme Weatherwax is quite disapproving of Gytha Ogg’s new red hobnail boots.
My favorite modern stories about sensible werewolves is Carrie Vaughn’s series of novels about Kitty Norville. Yes, a werewolf named Kitty. Transform at will anytime, but MUST transform at full moon. In wolf form, have wolf intelligence and instincts, but an ordinary SANE wolf mind, no ravening monsters here. Some memory of human periods, but not necessarily the same priorities. By book three Kitty is leader of the Denver pack, dealing with relations with Denver Police, learning about other low-magic types in Denver and in other cities, doing her best to be a problem-solver. Over fourteen novels, keeps getting into deeper trouble, playing for higher stakes, surviving.
http://www.carrievaughn.com/kittybooks.html
That reminds me, in Jim C. Hines’s Magic ex Libris books, which I love, there are werewolves. They can transform at will with the aid of special stone. They retain all their intelligence and ability to reason.