Fuck, Kill, Eat: Werewolves and the Death of Love

I’ve been thinking about werewolves a lot lately.

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No, really, like a lot.

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I recently listened to the audiobook of Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf, which is probably one of my favorite books of all time. I own a print copy and have read it twice, but decided to listen to it in my car on my way to work over the course of two weeks. I have a 40-minute drive to and from work Monday – Friday, and when I don’t feel like listening to music I listen to audiobooks that I download for free through an online service provided by my local library.

Over the past several months I listened to two Joe Hill novels, Heart-Shaped Box and NOS4A2, and the first two novels in the Vampire Diaries series by L. J. Smith. I had to stop listening to the Vampire Diaries novels, because I was getting pissed off at the fact that there are no people of color in the stories, and Elena Gilbert is a spoiled rich white girl who doesn’t deserve the love and attention of either Salvatore brother. I prefer the TV series to the novels mainly because of the diversity of characters and well…Damon Salvatore is a beautiful monster.

I would happily listen to more Joe Hill novels in my car, but I’ve either read or listened to all of them and last summer I even listened to Doctor Sleep and got my Charlie Manx fix through the world(s) shared between Joe Hill and Stephen King. I got very excited while listening to NOS4A2 when Charlie Manx talks about the different “inscapes” and the people he’s met that use them — Pennywise’s Circus (IT), the True Knot (Doctor Sleep), Christmasland (NOS4A2), the Treehouse of the Mind (Horns), the Night Road and Craddock McDermott (Heart-Shaped Box). Seriously, NOS4A2 is an Easter egg treasure-trove for readers of King and Hill. Treat yourself!

Reality has been kicking my ass, so my goal when choosing entertainment of any kind is to get as far from reality as possible. I often jokingly tell people that if a TV show, movie, or book doesn’t have vampires, werewolves, demons, witches, ghosts, or other paranormal characters, I’m not interested. But, it’s not really a joke.

I have been feeding my brain a steady diet of paranormal romance and dark speculative fiction. I binge-watched seasons 12 and 13 of Supernatural recently and now I’m suffering from Winchester withdrawal. Fox decided to cancel Lucifer, so I watched the last two bonus episodes and now that’s over and done. I started rewatching season 2 of Preacher to psyche myself up for season 3, but I’m not 100% sure of the date of its return to AMC. Then, on a whim, I decided to finally watch Lost Girl on Netflix. It has a Buffy vibe that I really enjoy and it is loaded with sexy, interesting, and often hilarious supernatural creatures. I like the dynamics between the Dark and Light Fae, I like the slow unfolding of the long cultural and political histories of this dual society, and I like the relationships that form between the characters. But, I’m not going to lie, the main reason why I’m watching right now is because of a certain werewolf.

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In the first season of Lost Girl, Dyson and the main character, Bo Dennis, become lovers. Because he is a werewolf chock full of Id and raging sexual energy, he is the first lover she’s ever had that didn’t die after having sex with her. Which, you know, is kind of a big deal when you’re a succubus.

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I mean, imagine if you had spent most of your adult life making love to people you’re attracted to or have strong feelings for, and each time you follow through on your sexual attraction, they end up dead. Sex with you is literally deadly. You are the embodiment of the death of love. Then, one day, you not only discover what you are and why your partners are dying, but you also find a mate who can provide you with what you need — companionship, acceptance, answers to your questions, finger-licking mega-boost sexual energy, and death-free sex. Death-free sex that is totally mind-blowing for both of you. You’d be tempted to think that love might still be in the cards for you.

I mean, love is still in the cards unless the person you love loves you so much that they inadvertently sacrifice their passion for you in an effort to save your life. Hence, the death of love. I mean, what’s more tragic than loving someone so much that you sacrifice everything for them with the consequence of never being able to love them again?

I’ve been on a werewolf kick for a while. Like I said, before I started watching Lost Girl on Netflix roughly a week ago, I listened to Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf, read by the late Robin Sachs, who lent his uber-sexy deep British accent to the first-person narrator, Jake Marlowe. Jake is a 200-year-old British werewolf who is facing the certainty of extinction of his species.

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For most of the novel, he accepts the fact that death is coming for him. In fact, he welcomes it. After 200 years, 147 of which he’s spent as a monster killing and eating humans, he’s done. He believes he’s seen it all and there are no new mysteries awaiting him. And then, the Universe has a few more laughs at his expense.

I suppose that most werewolf stories are really about love and it’s loss when you examine them closely enough. Lycanthropy is typically viewed as a curse that ruins the lives of the people who contract it. In most cases, lycanthropy is passed from werewolf to human through a bite. Unless lycanthropy is inherited through a family bloodline, or achieved through magical means, like wearing a belt made from a wolf’s pelt with a little black magic for good measure, werewolves are usually the survivors of violent attacks. And, once their physical wounds heal, the psychological ones are usually just beginning. If the werewolf has a conscience, they will most likely experience the early stages of a mental collapse after the first full moon when they turn into a homicidal maniac in wolf form.

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Jake Marlowe became a werewolf because he was bitten by one and during his first transformation he killed his wife. After killing and eating her, he read her journal and discovered that she was pregnant. His first act as a werewolf was to literally kill and eat love. For 147 years, he spent his life observing the sacred rites of werewolves: Fuck, Kill, Eat. He never found love again. At least, not until he realizes he’s about to be extinct. The Universe likes to laugh at us, but it seems to be especially jovial where monsters are concerned. At least romantic monsters who cling to their humanity in the midst of an extreme identity crisis. Jake assumes he’s the last living werewolf on Earth until he meets his female counterpart, Tallula Demetriou. So, not only is Jake no longer the last werewolf on Earth, but now he has a reason to live: Love.

So, what’s the deal with werewolves and romance? Well, who doesn’t want a passionate lover driven by their Id with superhuman strength, stamina, and a biological need to mate for life? A werewolf mate will literally kill people to keep you safe…or as an insane response to their unbridled jealousy.

At the heart of all werewolves is murderous rage and rapacious sexual energy. Left unchecked, they commit atrocities like Jake Marlowe killing his wife and unborn child, and while in human form they are often slaves to their libido. Without love, werewolves are basically fucking, killing, and eating machines.

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Typically, werewolves are portrayed as strong, handsome men suffering from some sort of identity crisis, or extreme guilt over becoming a murder once a month, and possibly an unbearable, soul-crushing melancholy brought on by unrequited love.

What I like most about Glen Duncan’s Last Werewolf Trilogy is the fact that we see the lives of werewolves from two perspectives, both male and female. Jake Marlowe’s acceptance of his true werewolf self — the good, the bad, the ugly, and the murderous — makes him an oddly likeable character. He has sex with prostitutes and somehow manages to not be a misogynist. He kills and eats humans once a month and somehow manages to be endearing in his descriptions of his own psychology. He’s a conundrum of horror, repulsion, intellect, cynicism, and raw sex appeal. Werewolves are mythological bad boys and they make excellent romantic characters when making terrible choices is your raison d’etre. I probably mentioned this before, but falling in love with monsters is usually a bad idea, regardless of what popular paranormal romance tells us. Whether you join Team Jacob or Team Edward, you’re essentially signing up for assisted suicide.

But, what if the werewolf is female?

If the 2000 cult horror film Ginger Snaps teaches us nothing else, it teaches us that female werewolves are dangerous monsters (and super-fucking cool). Their danger lies not only in the physical power that comes with their transformations each month, but in the empowerment that comes from shedding all the bullshit societal expectations of femininity. Female werewolves embrace their sexuality and engage in the mental gymnastics required to deal with the implied duality of being vessels for the creation of life and choosing to murder to satisfy the bone-rattling hunger for human flesh.

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But hey, don’t most women deal with similar dualities in every day life? Women are expected to be attractive to appease the ever-present male gaze, but only if they maintain the illusion of virginity. Women who ignore the male gaze and express their unique brand of sexuality or lack of interest in sex all together are accused of being sluts or hags. Let’s face it, there’s nothing more monstrous than sex-positive women who take full ownership of their bodies and decide who can and can’t have access to them.

Female werewolves choose their own paths. They embrace their sexuality. They choose multiple partners or mate for life. They become mothers or remain childless. They give the middle finger to societal expectations and rip out the patriarchy’s jugular.

As it turns out, Jake Marlowe is not the last werewolf. Tallula, his lover, his mate, his salvation, the love of his life (no pressure), makes the inevitability of extinction less likely. In fact, he gains strength in knowing that she is a better werewolf than he could ever hope to be. Tallula struggles with internal chorus of right and wrong that developed from her American upbringing and the expectations that women can only occupy certain roles — maiden, mother, and crone. And possibly, harlot. Tallula likes sex and engages in murder with the same ardor. She and Jake kill together and then have sex over the corpse in werewolf form, which ironically brings them closer together as a couple in their human guises. Essentially, their a serial-killing couple. Murder mates. Even monsters need love, right?

So, if female werewolves are more powerful and scarier than male werewolves, that might help explain how male werewolves have become sexually-charged eye candy in a lot of paranormal romantic fiction. I’m just stating that as a fact. It’s not a criticism in the least, because that would make me a hypocrite. There’s nothing I enjoy more than objectifying sexy werewolves…and examining the potentially dangerous ramifications of sexualizing monsters.

Peter Rumancek of Hemlock Grove, the Netflix original series based on Brian McGreevy’s 2012 novel by the same name, is an interesting monster. While he is physically appealing, his real attraction comes from his delightful irreverence and cynicism, and while his Romany upbringing predisposes him to criminal activity, his internal struggles are more geared toward keeping the people he loves safe rather than his guilt over killing and eating people.

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Then we have Alcide Herveaux, who could possibly be the sexiest werewolf ever in paranormal fiction. Charlaine Harris has kindly given us countless fuckable fictional characters, but Alcide is in a class all by himself.

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In Alan Ball’s adaptation of Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse novels for the HBO series True Blood, Alcide gets a much broader story arc than he does in the novels and his flirtations with Sookie Stackhouse got much further. He’s an interesting character who embodies strength and loyalty to a fault. And jealousy. Let’s not forget jealousy, which is essentially Alcide’s kryptonite.

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I have a soft spot in my heart for Alcide because he makes worse relationship decisions than I do. I mean, this guy has TERRIBLE luck with romance and his choice of partners, including Sookie Stackhouse, are pretty much all bad ideas. Plus, there’s the added bonus of him being naked a lot of the time.

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So, in the process of writing this blog post I realized that I have a lot more to say about werewolves and this post might be the jumping off point for a short series of posts. I definitely feel like I have more to say about female werewolves vs. male werewolves, and I’d like to talk more about Glen Duncan’s trilogy. But, I need to think about the subject a little more deeply.

Which reminds me, while I was listening to the second audiobook in the trilogy, Tallula Rising, I was able to solve or at least recognize the solution to an issue in my own writing. Tallula talks about her feelings in relation to motherhood and the acceptance of the terrible things she does and that are done to her. It was a moment of clarity that confirms the idea that in order to become a better writer, you need to read more books. I’m not going to talk about that moment of clarity in this post. I’ll save it for a future post. But, I will say that the irony of finding clarity about my own identity, my own writing, and the world I live in through stories about monsters is not lost on me. My own otherness has made me feel connected to monsters since childhood and I have always felt empathy toward characters who have no control of who or what they are. I suppose, I feel a kinship to monsters and the older I get, the more I take pride in that fact.

I’m going to keep up the ongoing process of self-discovery through writing in the hopes of becoming not only a better writer, but hopefully, my best self. And, I’m going to keep thinking about werewolves.

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I mean seriously, can you blame me?

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

I’ve been a fan of Charlaine Harris’ characters since I picked up my first Sookie Stackhouse book, Dead Until Dark. It wasn’t until I started reading some of her other series, like the Harper Connolly series, the Lily Bard Shakespeare series, and the Midnight Texas series, that I realized she likes to recycle some of her characters. Most of the characters who appear in the Southern Vampire series stay put in that world, but when you branch out into her other books, you realize that the worlds are more connected than at first glance. Charlaine Harris is masterful at not only creating worlds we can see ourselves in, but characters that feel like best friends and potential lovers. No one writes about the pain of loss, the fear of loneliness, and the desire to simply be left alone after a great tragedy as well as she does in the context of mystery and urban fantasy novels. And, when you begin delving into some of the other series, you’ll begin to recognize some of your old friends and acquaintances. For instance, in the Midnight Texas books we encounter Manfred Bernardo, who also appears in the Harper Connelly series, and Bobo Winthrop, who appears in the Lily Bard Shakespeare series, and John Quinn, who appears in the Southern Vampire series.

Shortly before NBC debuted the short-lived TV show, Midnight, Texas, I finished reading the third book in the Midnight series, Night Shift. While I absolutely adored the TV show, it took a lot of liberties with characters and plot lines, and if I hadn’t read the books beforehand, I might have found the show confusing and absurd. But, since I was familiar with the characters and had read all three novels, it was fun to watch the story unfold and see how the characters would interact with each other.

Like I said, NBC took some liberties with characters, especially with their appearances, but in the end, the changes made the show a bit more interesting. It also made some of the characters more attractive and deepened the relevance of their relationships. When I started writing this post, I considered devoting a paragraph to each character and simply writing about the ensemble of characters. Why you might ask? Well, because for the most part, each of them is perfectly fuckable. Then I stopped to think about and realized there are two characters in particular that I had the hots for all summer, and two couples. So, rather than just write one post and shoot my load all at once, I’m going to write four posts about the same show and delve a little deeper into each character/couple.

Dead Men Do Tell Tales: Manfred Bernardo

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For the purposes of this blog post, I’ll be focusing mainly on the TV show based on the Midnight books, but I will point out differences between the show and the novels from time to time, like the fact that I wouldn’t look twice at Manfred if he looked the way Charlaine described him in the novels. Actually, that’s not an entirely fair assessment. I would look twice at Manfred in the novels, because his appearance is striking due to his multiple facial piercings, tattoos, and essentially albino complexion. However, the actor (Francois Arnaud) portraying Manfred in the TV show turns heads for other reasons.

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Manfred is an interesting guy. In the Pilot episode, we learn that he earns his living as a psychic, with a website, wealthy clients, and fancy hotel room meetings. As a psychic, he communicates with the dead and tries to make peace for their loved ones, but Manfred is no charlatan, he can really talk to the dead, which actually makes him a medium. In fact, spirits like to hitch a ride inside Manfred and use his body to communicate with the living. In the opening scene, Manfred’s body gets hijacked by his client’s deceased husband who goes into a jealous rage after her learns his wife is now dating his friend and business partner. Manfred manages to take control of his body and prevents the disgruntled ghost from stabbing his wife with a shard of a mirror he shattered.

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Soon after, Manfred gets a phone call and we get some sketchy details about money he owes to someone who is chasing after him. Agitated by the phone call, the next scene we see is of Manfred traveling through the desert in an old beat up RV and meet the ghost of his grandmother, Xylda, who is bound to the vehicle. Manfred inherited his abilities from Xylda, and comes from a long line of fortune tellers, psychics, and seers. He’s on his way to Midnight, Texas to settle down and most likely, hide out for a while at his grandmother’s recommendation.

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He meets up with his landlord, Bobo Winthrop, who owns Midnight’s pawn shop and moves into his new home. It doesn’t take long for the unsettled spirits of Midnight to introduce themselves to Manfred and seek his help to communicate with the living. The day after he moves into town, the water-soaked, bloated body of Bobo’s missing fiance, Aubrey, is discovered in the creek bed near the picnic area where Midnighter’s are having a BBQ.

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It also doesn’t take long for Manfred to develop an interest in a local young woman, Cree. Cree likes Manfred, too, but she has to sneak around to see him due to the fact that her father is obsessively over protective. Despite her dad’s efforts to cock block Manfred, Cree and Manfred develop a romantic relationship. Even though Cree’s family secrets almost cost her and Manfred their lives, they aren’t the most interesting couple in Midnight.

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The longer Manfred stays in Midnight, the more we learn about his past and the fact that Destiny may have brought him to the strange little town where unusual people make their homes, including a vampire, a witch, an angel, and a weretiger for starters. Manfred’s talents come in handy as more of the darkness buried beneath Midnight comes to the surface.

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Something is waking up under Midnight, whatever it is it is increasing the spiritual activity in town, making Manfred’s house uninhabitable for the medium for cannot keep the ghosts at bay. Not only are the spiritual inhabitants restless, but the dark energy in the town begins to attract other dark forces and the secrets each Midnighter keeps hidden become harder to hide. Fortunately, weirdness is the glue that keeps folks in Midnight together. In fact, Manfred’s weird talents quickly make him a welcome addition to the strange little town. And, his insights help to solve Aubrey’s murder and clear Bobo as a murder suspect.

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Manfred wins the trust of the other residents of Midnight and proves himself to be an invaluable weapon in the fight against evil.