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Monday, November 30, 2009

Full MoonInterview with Lycaon

“The story of Lycaon, which originated in Greek mythology, has been viewed as one of the first werewolf stories ever. Publius Ovidius Naso or Ovid born in 43 B.C., in Sulmo, to an upper class Roman family introduced the story of Lycaon in his classic work, Metamorphoses. There are many versions of the legend about why Zeus punished Lycaon by turning him into a wolf. Most interpretations explain that Lycaon fed Zeus human flesh causing the King of the Gods to become enraged, killing most of his sons with thunderbolts and transforming Lycaon into a wolf. Some say Lycaon was a cruel ruler while others viewed him as a benevolent king.

I believe in parallel universes whereby each version can be true. Through the magic of my Lunar Orb I have brought back Lycaon to ask him about his life and let you the reader, decide, was he evil or misunderstood. We met here at the Werewolf Café. Feel free to send your comment questions to Lycaon.


Eva: He walked in, a tall muscular confidant alpha male radiating authority. Graying hair, but attractive in a Sean Connery sort of way. He cast a wolfish smile with a hint of white sharp fangs and gave me a deep bow. I tried to remain cool and gestured for him to sit while the server brought two glasses of fine Greek wine. “Good evening King Lycaon. Glad you can join us for the interview.”

Lycaon: With flirting eyes he smiled. “Pleasure is mine. I must say, the moonlight and the scent of humans make me hungry.”

Eva: I tried not to squirm. Here I was interviewing a known cannibal. “Tell us a little bit about your family history.”

Lycaon: “I was the first King of Arcadia. My parents were Pelasgus and Meliboea. I had 49 sons and one daughter, Callisto.”

Eva: “Did you say 49 sons? Can you even remember their names?”

Lycaon: “Grrrrr. Yes, all of them. It’s their mothers I can’t recall. Below I’ve listed them all.”

1. Melaeneus 2.Thesprotus 3. Helix. 4. Nyctimus. 5. Peucetius. 6. Caucon
7. Mecisteus 8.Mecisteus 9. Holpeus 10.Macareus 11.Oenotrus 12 Plichus
13. Acontes 14.Euaemon 15.Ancyor 16. Archebates 17.Carteron 18.Aegaeon
19. Pallas20. Eumon 21. Canethus 22. Prothos 23. Linus 24. Corethon
25. Maenalus 26. Teleboas 27. Physius 28. Phassus 29. Phthius 3130. Lycius
31. Alipherus 32. Genetor 33. Bucolion 34. Socleus 35. Phineus 36. Eumetes
37. Harpaleus 38. Portheus 39. Plato 40. Haemon 41. Cynaethus 42. Leo(n)
43. Harpalycus 44. Heraeeus 45. Titanas 46. Mantineus 47. Cleitor
48. Stymphalus 49. Orchomenus

Eva: “Hmmm. I see. Tell me a little bit about your kingdom and your accomplishments.”

Lycaon: “I lived in the region of Arcadia, which was called Pelasgia in ancient times. I was a fair and benevolent king, not ruthless as others would have you think. I raised civilization in this region to a higher level than previously during the period of my father Pelasgus’reign. I founded the town Lycosoura in the mountains of Lycaeon and that is where I became the first king. I started the Lycaean Games. I even set up a sanctuary for Zeus Lycaeus. Grrr. That ungrateful and lecherous god!”

Eva: Our server brought us a menu and hastily left. Would Lycaon be disappointed man-flesh was not listed as the main course? “I heard you would sacrifice humans to Zeus and that he became enraged because you fed him the flesh of one of your sons. Is that true?” He fidgeted in his seat before he pierced me with his dark wolfish eyes. I instinctively cast my eyes down at his domineering intensity.
Lycaon: “Grrrr. Lies, lies, all lies!!!”

Eva: He pounded a clawed fist on the table. I try to keep my cool as I watch his head shift from that of a man’s to that of a big grey wolf. I sipped my wine. “Care to explain?” He inhaled and was once again human.

Lycaon: “I never fed him my son or any other child. I fed him the intestines of some criminals from my dungeon in a well spiced stew.” He snorted a laugh. “He enjoyed the meal and had several helpings.”

Eva: “I heard you served him human flesh to test to see if he really was a god. Why would you do such a thing knowing how appalled he was about cannibalism?”

Lycaon: His dark eyes looked distant and pained. “It was on account on how he ruined my daughter Callisto and caused her own son to nearly kill her.”

Eva: “Yes, I heard Zeus was a cad, but was it really his fault? I heard he was a lady’s man or rather god.”

Lycaon: He glanced at me with those stalking eyes before continuing. “My daughter, Callisto vowed to preserve her virginity to remain the hunting companion of Artemis.

His eyes glistened but he continued. “However, one day as she sat alone in the wood Zeus came and seduced her. She became pregnant and gave birth to my grandson Arkas. In a fit of jealous rage, his wife, Hera turned my dear wonderful daughter into a bear. Later, when Arkas was grown, a bear wondered into the sanctuary of Zeus. Arkas decided to hunt her and before my grandson killed his own mother, Zeus transferred her to the stars. When Arkas died long after, he too was placed amongst the stars next to his mother. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.”

Eva: I watched as he dabbed at a tear. I no longer viewed him as a ruthless cannibal but a father seeking justice for a wronged daughter. “What exactly happened after Zeus found out you fed him human meat?”

Lycaon: He gulped down his entire glass and smacked his lips. “He struck all my sons with thunderbolts turning them all into werewolves. I ran but as I hid in the open market he struck at me and I too was transformed into a powerful wolf.” He poured himself another glass.

Eva: What was this transformation like?”

Lycaon: My fine garments tore as fur bristled on my skin and my face elongated into a snout and feet became paws. I dropped to all fours and began to alter painfully. My ears grew pointy and my gums bled profusely, turning my teeth into sharp fangs. I was chased out of my own kingdom. At first I ran in terror above the fields and howled in despair. I was famished and greedy for the blood of livestock and man.”
Eva: “I see you have the ability to shift at will. Did you learn to live with the curse?”

Lycaon: He inhaled the air as if a fresh loaf of bread had just been brought in. “I embraced the wolf in me wholeheartedly. I headed toward the mountains of Arkadia to join my pack made up of my sons. My sense of smell and hearing became enhanced. I had the stamina of a wild wolf and laughed at Zeus for making me stronger than man. Later my son’s and I learned to mix amongst my people and only hunted wild game. My people feared but revered me.”

Eva: I had always heard that his sons were killed. I like his version so much better. “So, any regrets?”

Lycaon: “My only regret was not protecting my daughter from Zeus and his spiteful queen, Hera. Yet, Callisto is forever immortal in the heavens. Even one of Jupiter’s moons is named for her.”

Eva: “May I add that your name is popular. You know that the Greek word for wolf is lykos.”

Lycaon: He laughed. “I have heard that werewolves are often called lycans.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And that lycan is part of some sort of mental miasma.”

Eva: “Lycanthropy is a clinical illness where the victim has the delusion that they have transformed into a real animal. A few clinical studies have shown that the part of the brain that perceives body image makes the person think they are animals. Body image distortions are common conditions, like the anorexic that perceives a fat body. You might like a book called The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales a 1985 book by neurologist Oliver Sacks. His case study was of a man with visual agnosia, who saw a hat instead of his wife.”

Lycaon: He shook his head. Most likely Zeus might have turned his wife into a hat.”

Eva: I should have remembered that Lycaon was not part of this realm.
“And you should be honored that the African wild dog was named after you. Lycaon pictus and the Eastern Timber wolf is Canis lupus lycaon
Lycaon pictus

Lycaon: He lifted a brow. “I’m not keen on a wild dog named after’ Lycaon’ but naming a wolf after me does my heart good.”
Eva: I wanted to tell him more about movies such as Underworld Rise of the Lycans and my novels about the secret lycan society but knew that we had run out of time. He was breathing rapidly and his clothing began to expand. His hands became furred and his joints began to crack. “I would like to thank you for the informative interview and hope you can come back later to answer more questions.”

Lycaon: He stood abruptly and snarled. “It was indeed a pleasure.”

Lycaon flung the door open with clawed hands and the bartender quickly shut and bolted it. I peered out the window as his grey wolf form ran up a hill. The night soon vibrated with the distant howls of Lycaon and his pack. I closed my laptop and asked for another glass of wine

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Buy my books and find out about my werewolves

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Ask Doc Werewolf Wednesday

Today I'm launching my new post called Ask Doc Werewolf Wednesday. Dear Abby for those who answer to the call of the wild. Come in and ask any werewolf concern you might have. Such as shift issues, alpha/beta issues, living with humans, my girlfriend is a werewolf issue. I will answer either immediately or wait a week while I consult the Lupercal Council. So any question just give me a howl. Please note my answers might be based on my Lupercal Society.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Interview with 12 Century Werewolf Bisclavaret

Interview of Bisclavret
Tonight’s special guest is Bisclavret, a 12th Century werewolf. Yes, I said 12th Century as in the year 1154. I knew I wanted to interview him because his story always captivated me. A story about a werewolf written by a woman, Marie de France a French poet. She was born in Normandy and later moved to France. She was the first known writer to write in French. Some say she was the half-sister of King Henry II. She reminds me a lot of Mary Shelly who wrote Frankenstein in 1818 in that she loved a good horror story and had the freedom to write one. She wrote fables mostly about beasts and twelve short narrative tales. Bisclavret is one of her ‘lais’or a rhyming story. Bisclavret is about a man who turns into a werewolf and is betrayed into remaining a wolf by his wife. Here is a link to the complete poem

I believe in parallel universes whereby each version can be true. Through the magic of my Lunar Orb I have brought back Bisclavret to ask him about his life and let you the reader, decide, was he evil or misunderstood. We met here at the Werewolf Café. Feel free to send your comment questions to Bisclavret.
Eva: I watched the dim moon of tonight’s penumbral lunar eclipse. Such an eclipse allows Bisclavret to appear human. The door to the café creaks open and in walk a tall broad shouldered knight. He nods at me and settles his bulk on the chair. “Sir Bisclavret, I’m so pleased you could make it.”
Bisclavret: “Pleasure is mine.”
Eva: His grin was wolfish with a glint of sharp white fangs. “Tell me how is it that you became a wolf?”
Biscalvret: “At the age of thirteen while I was hunting in the woods on a hot full moon night I decided to take a dip in a pool of water. I tossed my clothes on top of a wolf print. I thought nothing of it. But when I left the pool my joints twisted, my hands clawed and my teeth grew into fangs. In a matter of moments I was a wolf.

After 3 days I woke up as a man and put my clothes on. A faun came out of the woods and told me if I did not put on my clothes within three days that I would remain a wolf.”
Eva: So your family did not know?
Bis.: “No, I kept it a secret all those years. The faun had warned me never to tell anyone.”
Eva: “So you would go out and always become a wolf on the full moon?”
Bis: “Yes, it is magnificent to feel the earth beneath you paws, the smell of every creature in the forest and the ability to hear the faintest of sounds.”

Eva: The waiter brought us a fine bottle of Bordeaux. He poured Bisclavret a sample. The werewolf took a whiff and closed his eyes as, breathing in ecstasy the way a cat sniffs catnip. I wondered what it would be like to have such a strong sense of smell.
Bis: He sipped and loudly smacked his lips. “T’is a long time since I have tasted wine with such rich flavors.”
Eva: The waiter poured me a glass and filled his. I swallowed not sipped as one should. “You lived long ago. Though you kept your shape shifting a secret, tell me what your normal life was like.”
Bis: “I was considered one of the bravest and most gallant of knights of Brittany. No one could best me in sword. The King admired me and we became the best of friends. The king granted me a fief as a reward for my chivalry. Lands and titles, the envy of many.”

Eva: When I was younger and read the story of Bisclavret I always felt bad for his wife, who in the end was disfigured by his bite. I hesitated knowing this would be a touchy subject. “Tell me about your wife.” He paused, a feral look in those dark eyes. A tense moment interrupted by our server bringing sweat meat pies on the table.
Bis: “I was once married to the most beautiful woman in all of Brittany. A woman of such fine manners and lineage, who I courted for years before seeking her hand in holy matrimony.”
Eva: “What was her name?”
Bis: “I do not say her name out loud. Suffice it to say I shall call her Lady M.”
Eva: I felt like a couples counselor for werewolf marriages gone wrong. “What happened between you and Lady M.”
Bis: He took in a breath before continuing. “In the beginning we were happy and I thought very much in love. But then she grew suspicious when on each full moon I disappeared for three days.”
Eva: I snickered. “No doubt she thought you were a player.”
Bis: Raised a brow. “Pray madam, what do you mean by player?”
Eva: “A man who is having an affair or a tryst with another woman.”
Bis: His eyes widened. “Precisely, she accused me of having a tryst. When I told her that was not the reason I disappeared she insisted I tell her the truth. Mind you I had never told anyone. But she pestered me until I finally I relented. She was after all my wife. I told her I hide my cloths since without them I would remain a wolf.”
Eva: “How did she react that you were a werewolf?”
Bis: “Naturally she was horrified. She then begged me to tell her where I hid the clothes. In case I forgot. I told her I would never forget. She insisted I tell her and I did. I noticed that when I disappeared to feed my wolfish hunger, she too disappeared. I thought nothing of it until much later.”
Eva: “So she hid your clothes and you remained a wolf?”
Bis: His eyes grew sad. “She and her lover took them and locked them away. I remained a wolf for a year. She declared me dead and was allowed to marry her lover.”
Eva: “Then you befriended the king. Tell us, what happened next.” I was spellbound by the tale.
Bis: His eyes gleamed. “The king was on a hunt in my woods. I managed to convince him with human like gestures that I was as smart as a man, which after all I was. He kept me as a royal pet and allowed me to attend every feast. On one feast my wife and her new husband had been invited. On seeing them I lost my mind and nipped her nose and then tried to kill him before the king’s knights intervened.”
Eva: “And how did the king react?”
Bis: “He knew I had always been kind. Lady M and her husband were persuaded to confess.”
Eva: No doubt tortured. “So she admitted to hiding your clothes?”
Bis: “Yes. My clothes were returned and justice was served by having them banished from the kingdom.”
Eva: “I heard you bit her nose off and that all of her daughters were born disfigured.”

Bis: He laughed. “Is that what they say, madam?”
Eva: I nodded.
Bis: “I nipped a piece off but as far as I know her children were normal.”
Eva: “And did the king fear a werewolf in his flock?”
Bis: “Nay, all my land and titles were returned. I married a woman who was a healer and had seen me in the woods and even known where I had hidden my clothes. She was someone I trusted.”
Eva: That part of the story was never mentioned and I was glad that his wife’s betrayal had not embittered him to all women as I originally thought. “You must realize that there are similar tales to yours.”
Bis: “So I have heard. In Ireland there is ‘Lai de Melion’ and the king is King Arthur. And the lesser known story, ‘Arthur and Gorlagon’.”
Eva: I nodded. “Gorlagon’s story is far more gruesome.”
Bis: He grinned with shiny long canines. “I like how Gorlagon kept her lover’s head in a glass jar.”
Eva: “Gorlagon seemed so sinister that I named an antagonist in my latest novel, White Wolf of Avalon.” I winked. “I also named my bad werewolf in Werewolf Sanctuary after you. Of course not because of you but because I liked your name.”

Bis: “I am honored madam.” He threw a wolfish grin. “I must go now. Please keep my clothes well hidden.”
Eva: The lunar eclipse over he hastily disrobed and handed me his clothes for safe keeping. He slammed the door open and ran to the woods. I ran and shouted. “Thank you for the interview!” Not long after I heard a lone howl on a hill above the Werewolf Café. I hid his clothes in a cabinet and touched my nose wondering what it would be like to have it bitten off. I decided I would make sure nothing happened to his garments.