"Becoming the Monstrous Other"
             Exploring the Psychology of the Werewolf in The Monster of Amber Peace

                                    by Cassandra Aponte
                                for HUMN 411 Written Project
                                       April 11, 2012

                                    Introduction

Let us examine the human monster: small, flat teeth, suitable for grinding and tearing a variety of foods but not for defence. Nails that can break away easily, not really designed for either defence or offense, except perhaps protecting the sensitive tips of the fingers. Eyes are somewhat large for the size of the head, but eyesight, barring excellent colour vision, is comparatively poor to that of other animals. Hearing is subpar. Physical prowess is subpar. Body is soft and any hair present is not thick enough to offer much protection against attack or weather. But intelligence and reason is immeasurable. Capacity for emotion, immeasurable. Imagination, infinite.
Really, when you think about it, humans are quite frightening when compared to other creatures on this planet. At least in that we are unnatural, both physically and mentally from the rest of the world. Animals very seldom have ulterior motives for doing the things that they do, and not very often do they do them simply out of spite. Vindictiveness is a notable aspect of the Monstrous Other. It flaunts an illogical desire to consume and to destroy, sometimes enjoying what it does, others regretting severely but unable to hold back.
Subconsciously, we seek a return to the natural realm, assuming we were ever part of it in the first place. But in that pursuit, humans can never do anything in moderation, and the animal in us transcends the basic desire to exist. It's as if our animal brains cannot bear the weight of so much knowledge, self-awareness, and emotion, and from that angst they become something else, something unnatural. Half-human, half-animal, all monster. We create monsters to express our passions and our fears, placing ourselves inside them and them inside us. They are an amalgamation of an Unknown that we struggle to identify and endow it with characteristics that best suit it. The result is often terrifying.
In my art, I have always been fascinated with the connection between monsters, art, and psychology. To me, werewolves in particular fit into all three of these categories quite nicely. They are the relics of a past where humans lived in fear of a world they barely understood. When they looked out their windows at night, and into the darkness, they saw terrible shapes lurking. It could have been no more than a deer, but the manner in which the light caught in its eyes, a wicked span of antlers resting over its head, for just a moment, it was a demon. Likewise, when Man looked inside himself much in the same way, he again saw something else he did not expect. His brain struggled to fill in the gaps, the information fuelled by uncertainty, gathering desperately from what shards of knowledge he did possess (most likely given to him by his superiors as a child or taught to him by his religion), and when pieced together, he saw that it was a monster. So, in a way, it is true what they say; "Man fears what he cannot understand". And what does man fear more than himself? Especially now that he has conquered the world and there seems little else to fear?
When I talk about the "Monstrous Other", I am referring to this aspect of the human psyche. Jung called it the "Shadow", to Freud and Lacan it was the "Id", to fans of literature it is "Mr. Hyde". My understanding is that the werewolf can also be counted among them. This essay will describe not only why I believe this to be so, but also what it has to do with my artistic praxis, most notably my current novel project, The Monster of Amber Peace, and the role it plays in the foundations of my characters who are werewolves. I will begin by discussing the werewolf as symbolic of a mentally unstable psyche and the wolf-beast itself as the Monstrous Other in this dichotomy, next I will describe the key aspects of this Monstrous Other, and finally I will delve into what all of this has to do with my artistic praxis.

                                    The Sickest Beast
                             "Man is a wolf to a man." - Sigmund Freud

The tragic, uncontrolled werewolf of horror movies and European legend, exemplifies the concept of the Monstrous Other perfectly because trapped within the same body as this aberration is a human soul, thereby becoming a very convenient metaphorical package. Werewolves and other violent, shape-shifting creatures, could perhaps be interpreted to represent our own increasing alienation from the natural world, or better yet, our resiliency to conform to it. Far removed from our connection to nature, we no longer live on farms or in grassy knells, tending to sheep and cows, but in buildings of steel and brick, equipped with heat and running water. For the most part, our food is managed by machines, and any threatening creature with fur is kept within the confines of a zoo, has been domesticated, or only exists within the realms of our television. Most of us can't even remember what a large animal smells or sounds like. And so the savagery of the werewolf represents our apprehension, our fear, of what we no longer understand. We no longer feel we have use for such instincts and so we relegate them towards the uncanny, something that is only remotely familiar to us.
Frued's concept of The Uncanny (Das Unheimlich), accurately encapsulates man's inner beast as an inhabitant of a mysterious mental landscape. In his book, On Monsters, Stephen Asma says it best when he quotes religious scholar, Timothy Beal: "Monsters are personifications of the unheimlich. They stand for what endangers one's sense of security, stability, integrity, well-being, health and meaning" (188). The monster is an aberration, an upheaval of our sense of the familiar. It goes against logic and our sense of a safe and stable reality. Therefore, the concept of 'monster' may not only be limited to a single creature or entity, but a general concept of what can be considered 'monstrous'. Freud describes Das Unheimlich in horrific terms of living toys, severed limbs, and doppelgangers; all qualities, symbols, and behaviours that can be associated with that of a disturbed mind or identity (188). Therefore, the monster may not always lurk inside one's closet or beneath one's bed, but may in fact share it with you. This perhaps is the most terrifying of all, that we are convinced that we actually know someone for who they are, only to later discover that they are cannibals or child molesters or, in a more fantastical sense, werewolves. Arguably, the idea of the werewolf may represent this quality, as the history of the werewolf is peppered with such accounts of loved ones transforming into ravenous beasts. However, it should be noted that not all werewolves were of a vicious nature, even ones who were somehow forced to transform.
One oft-told tale out of Germany, tells of a priest making his way through a forest at night when he encounters an old wolf sitting next to a fire (Baring-Gould 34). Much to his surprise, the wolf begins to speak to him and confesses the he and his wife are of the Ossyrian race and must take on lupine form for seven years (34). He then asks the priest to give his ailing wife her final sacraments, which the priest hesitates to do, until the wolf reveals an old woman beneath the skin of a sick she-wolf (34). In yet another tale hailing from the werewolf-rich land of France, a captain is helped by a lycanthrope who later turns out to be a Huguenot minister cursed by a witch (Graves 53).
Considering my prior observations on lycanthropy as representative of a kind of mental illness, tales such as these could serve to symbolise the many ways in which a person adapts to his or her condition, or the depth to which it goes. Some may suffer more than others.
J.K. Rowling takes this sort of approach in her Harry Potter book series. Werewolves are largely shunned by the rest of the wizarding world. Perceived as being a danger even in their human forms, one can draw parallels between Rowling's werewolves and those suffering from real-life mental/physical illness. Rowling's management of the condition is through the use of a wolf's bane potion, which allows the werewolf to maintain their humanity even when they are transformed, much like how medication is prescribed to suffering patients.
There are numerous legends regarding how one may go about becoming a werewolf. Transmission through a bite is a more recent, largely Hollywood invention. Methods range from eating the flesh of a wolf to bathing in magical streams. Some even resulted in the individual having control over his/her transformations and so, did not necessarily have to wait until the light of the full moon. Typically, however, lycanthropy was in fact a curse bestowed by a witch or in most cases, hereditary. Control was seldom guaranteed.  Regardless of if transformation is voluntary or not, the individual in the tale is often implied to have suffered some sort of trauma or instability in the spirit or mind, whether it was because they appealed to the Devil for aid and the condition was thusly passed onto his or her children or they performed some sort of heinous act that resulted in them being cursed, those afflicted with the ability to morph into an animal were still often seen as unusual in some manner, metamorphosis aside. Coincidentally, the inheritance of mental illness was often spoken of in the same manner. Violent outbursts, delusional beliefs, and primitive behaviour have all been associated with madness in one form or another, therefore it is justifiable to believe that werewolves are just another manifestation of our fear of the misunderstood, not just in nature, but of our own psyche.

                                Rage, Desire, and the Void
"'Really, when it comes down to it, it doesn't matter what you want, it's what he needs. His needs become your wants. Because you are just the spectator along for the ride; he is the body that takes you there.'" - Vance Hayden, The Monster of Amber Peace

According to Socrates, the human psyche is composed of three basic functions: reasoning power, emotional conviction, and appetite or desire (Asma 52). All of which are qualities that coincide with that of the Monstrous Other, and therefore, my interpretation of the "wolf-personality" in werewolves.
However, Socrates did not use the werewolf to demonstrate this but a chimera of sorts. When postulating his theory to his fellow philosophers, Socrates asked them to picture a "multitudinous, many-headed monster", a lion, and a homunculus (a miniature human being usually created through an alchemical process), and then to imagine them merged into the image of the average man (Asma 52). The homunculus represented reason and therefore the "highest" part of the soul, the lion, emotion, and the multi-headed beast was desire, what Socrates considered to be the "lowest" (52-53). The harmonious balance, says Socrates, of these three creatures all melded into one form was the most "intrinsically" beneficial pursuits a human being can master (53). When anyone of these becomes more powerful than the others, the person's soul becomes discordant. According to Socrates, this can happen over time through the individual's nurturing of the wrong appetites, whether it is through childhood rearing or the choices one makes throughout his or her life (53). Therefore, the unbalance of these elements is what can create monsters out of normal people (53).
Within the complex figure of the lycanthrope, the human clearly represents reason, and the beast, desire, and between them they can generate emotion. The characters in my novel must often use their power of reasoning to overcome the desires of their more primal counterpart, both of which are very strongly capable of emotion. Since the wolf-personality is unable to speak, it can communicate with the human half of the brain through impulses that the human personality must learn to recognize and control, lest he or she risk a sudden transformation or, altogether, an embarrassing scene.
Both rage and desire are two qualities often associated with the sinister and primordial. Giving in to either has the potential to result in troubling consequences, and one can inevitably lead to another if they are not satisfied. "Men are not gentle creatures," says Freud, in his book Civilization and Its Discontents, "wishing for love, who simply defend themselves if they are attacked, but that a powerful measure of desire for aggression has to be reckoned as part of their instinctual endowment…Homo homini lupus (man is a wolf to a man)" (Freud 24). Freud called this bottomless void in the human subconscious, the Id (das Es) (Asma 209).
The Id, according to Freud, is the human mind at its most basic. Essentially, it is the voice of our biology and the one that we develop the earliest. "The Ego," explains Stephen Asma in On Monsters. "Emerges slowly in the post-uterine life of the baby and forms a mode of conscious awareness, a locus of self-identity" (209). The conscience, or the Superego, soon develops, presumably, as a result of cultural and societal pressures as well as those instilled by one's parents (209). Unfortunately, however, there are times where the cries of the Id escape the trappings of the Superego and are unleashed upon unsuspecting victims (209).
The Ego, meanwhile, is often the one left holding the bag. Where the Superego is the voice of superiority, as its name implies, the Ego is the identity, the reasoning, and has the final say on whether to obey the "should-nots" of the Superego or the "I-wants" of the Id.  
[The Ego] is like a man on horseback, who has to hold in check
the superior strength of the horse... Often a rider, if he is not to
be parted form his horse, is obliged to guide where it wants to
go; so in the same way the ego is in the habit of transforming
the Id's will into action as if it were its own (Freud 25).
Building upon Freud's Id concept, C.G. Jung introduces a more complex idea of the alternate self and fragmented unconscious identity. "The unconscious is commonly regarded as a sort of encapsulated fragment of our most personal and intimate life - something like what the Bible calls 'heart' and considers the source of all evil thoughts" (Jung 20). This is how the conscious mind interprets the unconscious, as a sort of psychological limbo where anyone who becomes lost within its corridors will be attacked by "all the ferocious beasts which the caverns of the psychic underworld are said to harbor" (20).

This then, is the Shadow, a manifestation of our unconscious selves, some may even describe it as our true selves. A self without moral limitations, the purest expression of our inner-most beings, but it is also an essential part of our being, and can only be made peaceful through its realization (Jung 20).  By denying ourselves of this most crucial aspect of ourselves, in essence our "bestial" natures, we envision ourselves as holy, proud, pure, and free from temptation, "heroes beyond good and evil" (21). Basically, arrogant and self-righteous, which can give rise to its own kind of monster. In defying one's Shadow, one is but half a person, they are cut off from perhaps the largest, most enlightening, part of their inner world.
Jung describes accepting the Shadow, as a rite of passage. Once one has managed to squeeze through this narrow corridor, run the gamut, and acknowledge that this repulsive creature is indeed an aspect of ourselves and is neither dark nor light, but merely is, then one can become whole and have thoughts and impulses revealed to them as never before (Jung 21).

                                         Fear Itself
"For a brief moment, just as I had flipped the switch, I was sure I had seen the twisted face of; something snarling back at me from the mirror. I soon realized that it had been my own face but somehow quite different; the eyes were completely wrong - filled almost entirely with darkness."
-Autumn Isen, The Monster of Amber Peace

"A person's own body and above all its surface," writes Freud, in The Ego and the Id. "Is a place from which both external and internal perceptions may spring. It is seen like any other object, but to the touch it yields two kinds of sensations, one of which may be equivalent to an internal perception" (26). Imagine for a moment, you wake up one morning to find that you are in a different body and altogether a different life. It is vastly different in fact, from the one you are accustomed to leading. Nothing feels or even smells familiar and you're constantly wondering if you're dreaming or if perhaps, you were dreaming all along before. When you finally look in the mirror, you don't recognize your own face, because it's not yours any more. You're not even human.
Something that a lot of authors who write about werewolves seem to neglect is the overall attachment humans have to their own bodies. Our physical forms are intrinsically linked to our mental ones. When we lose a limb, we lament its loss, sometimes still feeling it as though it were still attached to us. We're no longer able to operate the way we are accustomed. It can wear on our psyches until we find the strength to accept it.
According to Jacques Lacan, in his groundbreaking essay "The Mirror Stage", we begin to formulate our own identities as young as six months (Leader and Groves 21). Essentially, we learn about who we are by projecting outside ourselves (21). It is impossible to look upon ourselves physically without aid of an outside object such as a mirror or even a person, to tell us if we are beautiful or unattractive (21-22, 47). Our entire identity is constructed in relation to the Other, or what we perceive to be our opposites: "I am this because I am not that".  When our perspectives are switched or altered in some way, we automatically rationalize that we no longer belong to what we considered to be familiar (21-22). So, in the case of identifying this "Monstrous Other", this Shadow or Id, or wolf, whenever we look into the mirror does not necessarily mean that this opposing identity is in any way "evil"; it is simply not whatever you perceive yourself to be. It can possibly only be foreign, something grossly unfamiliar, disturbing, and therefore something to fear.
This philosophy seems to be ever expanding into the media with multitudes of books and films being made wherein the heroes are tragic or sympathetic monsters. Whether vampire, werewolf, or serial killer, our concept of what is truly "evil" is evolving.
In European tradition, the werewolf and any of its brethren have been made assuredly evil through stories describing them in all their villainous glory as bottomless pits of greed, selfishness and sadistic maliciousness; uncontrolled, lustful and above all, very, very hungry. Truly, the fundamental features of the Monstrous Other, and everything us normal folk perceive ourselves not to be. In fact, as children we are taught to obey our parents otherwise we will inevitably be devoured by such a monster.
And yet, we cannot help but be drawn to the concept of evil, most likely because it is in fact foreign to us. A part of us longs to understand it, and possibly heal it. This can be considered yet another effect of Freud's Das Unheimlich, in which we are drawn to things of our opposing nature because it recalls the desires of our Id such as sex and violence (Freud 18-19).

                                      Conclusion
So how is all this associated with my interpretation of werewolves as envisioned in my novel? Basically, I have taken these fascinating theories on the development of alternate personalities as well as the Id or Shadow and have molded into the shape of a werewolf. Each of my lycanthrope characters must struggle with coping with their "wolf-personality" – which embodies a primal aspect of themselves that is stronger than usual, mostly because it has the ability to physically manifest itself in reality, using the molecular structure available to it. There is a lot more pseudo-science and theory that I have created to supplement this exact process, but this essay is not about that.
Although this manifestation is called the "wolf-personality" or "wolf-persona" in my novel, much of its behaviour and quality is based more on an exaggerated understanding of actual lupine behaviour. In reality, wolves, much like any animal, do not normally attack people unless provoked, desperate, or ill. They are generally shy creatures that in truth, we know very little about. In my research, I've come across a lot of contradictory evidence in regards to wolf behaviour. Some researchers say that they are misunderstood, that they are truly docile and gentle. Others concede that while they are certainly capable of gentleness, they will also not hesitate to attack a human, especially if they are hungry and/or sick enough to do so. I've also read conflicting evidence regarding the structure of their family units, and so I've taken what I could of all of this information and applied it to that of my werewolves, all the while keeping in mind that they are not just wolves alone. Their teeth are larger, made more for crushing; they stand and walk on their hind legs as well as all fours; they have opposable thumbs and are capable of making very primate-like movements and facial expressions. Indeed, I actually base their mode of aggression on that of a territorial ape's than that of a wolf's. They are incapable of speaking, so body language and expression is very important to their communication.
Even in human form, and under the control of their human personality, they still bear the qualities of a superhuman – they're faster and stronger, have a better sense of hearing and smell, are more attuned to body language, and are blessed with accelerated healing. However, all of this comes at a price: with great senses comes great responsibility. Being hyper-aware of the world around you only opens up more ways to be tempted, and werewolves are very tactile creatures, especially their wolf-personalities. If exposed to the right stimulation or if the wolf-persona is simply restless, the lycanthrope must take steps to avoid an unexpected transformation or at the very least embarrassing oneself by allowing the impulses to manifest. Again, I liken this to an individual suffering from a mental illness that must constantly be kept in check.
Each of my characters have slightly different relationships with their Id. Some are at odds with it, ashamed of it and try their best to hide it from everyone, even distancing themselves from other lycanthropes. Others have very few issues, their wolf-personalities relatively well-behaved and even seeming sympathetic to their human counterparts. Still others, however, have an altogether unique kind of relationship.
There is an endless assortment of dualities that can be found among the lycanthropes of the world in my novel. Among them is the rare kind that is, in particular, exemplified by one of my favourite characters, Vance Hayden.  Hayden is unique among my characters because, in relation to those around them, he is as unstable and can be as impulsive as his wolf-personality. While he sometimes speaks of it as if it were an entity outside himself, he actually does not share the same kind of disassociation that others of his species struggle with. Over the course of his long life, he and his wolf have evolved into a symbiotic relationship, where he has used the bestial aspect as a caulk to fill in the gaps of what he lacks as a human being. Hayden is sociopathic, and by himself, is unable to recognize emotional changes in others. He also can hardly feel them himself. To supplement this, he relies on the abilities of his wolf-personality. Through it, he can better identify emotions through scent and is also more sensitive to body language and facial expressions. He can also "feel" more through him as well.
The wolf-personalities in my novel are more than just Ids and alter-egos, they're also the voids into which emotions and instincts have fallen. Those unfortunate individuals who have suffered many traumas in their life are more likely to have a very angry and violent wolf-personality. Hayden's is no different. Furthermore, he is addicted to the sensations that his wolf offers him. In exchange, Hayden allows it access to everything. In some werewolves, when the human is in charge, the alternate personality is latent and may not remember anything that has happened to the body while the human mind is in control. This can work both ways and more or less depends on the kind of relationship the two halves may share with one another. Hayden's is always awake and always has influence over him, however the two personalities work so well together that unless his wolf-personality is feeling particularly needy, he doesn't have to try very hard to keep it under control.
I have attempted to illustrate this in the accompanying digital painting. Here, Hayden sits in a dilapidated mental hospital, currently dissociated with his wolf-personality, but is still able to feel and experience whatever it does. The words on the wall and radiator read "leere" and "vide". Either mean "void" or "empty" in German and French, both languages Hayden is capable of speaking. Emptiness is a theme I use repeatedly in association with Hayden's character as it is an accurate description to the black hole that occupies Hayden's inner being in spite of his charismatic exterior.
My concepts regarding psychoanalysis and werewolves are nothing new. The trope of the human animal is something that has been done repeatedly, and yet I find that I am never very satisfied with how it's done in most cases.  Through my research and exploration of my own art, I intend to, hopefully, turn up something new or original at least concerning the approach. But even if I don't, I still greatly enjoy the journey.
We are such terrible, morbid little creatures, but we suffer from such beautiful imaginations.












Works Cited
Asma, Stephen T. On Monsters: An Unnatural History of Our Worst Fears. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2009. Print.
Baring-Gould, S. The Book of Werewolves. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2006. Print.
Freud, Sigmund. Civilization and Its Discontents. Buckinghamshire: Chrysoma Associates Limited, 2005. Lightoftheimagination.com. Chrysoma Associates Limited, 2000. Web. 11 Apr. 2012.
Freud, Sigmund. FreudsTheUncanny.pdf. PDF.
Freud, Sigmund, James Strachey, and Anna Freud. The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud. Vol. XIX. London: Hogarth, 1961. Print.
Graves, Zachary. Werewolves. East Sussex: Canary, 2011. Print.
Jung, C. G. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. New York: Princeton UP, 1990. Print.
Leader, Darian, and Judy Groves. Introducing Lacan. Lanham: Totem, 1996. Print.