Why do we love werewolves?

To answer this, we have to start with drugs. Our pre-historical ancestors all stemmed from shamanic cultures, ones in which spirit journeys were regular occurrences under the influence of strong hallucinogens, of which psilocybin form mushrooms was only one. And shamans and their followers became creatures imbued with power, like hawks, eagles, bears, deer, or leopards in South America.

And wolves, of course.  

            These cultures celebrated (and still do) the ancient connectedness of all creatures. But with the advent of agriculture, when a more patriarchical society arose, the power of one individual shaman – not a warrior—became less pronounced. Instead, it was up to the group of warriors to gain more land for farming, and less reliance was placed on the shaman’s teachings. Even more so, the use of the hallucinogens began to be phased out: wars could not be conducted if everyone was taking mushrooms! (This is also when the consumption of mead started – a much easier intoxicant for a group.)

But something was lost when most of Western Europe took up an agricultural way of life. Gone were the days of the cave paintings of Lascauz with men with the heads of deer– no more ritual magic was practiced, no more shape-shifting.  The memory, though, remained. And in Western Europe, this became the werewolf.

As the Catholic Church gained more power, these werewolves turned into something that we all know well from the witch hunts: people who had made a pact with the devil. Magic, in all of its faces, was not to be allowed, and the werewolf became something to be feared and reviled instead of respected.

So what changed in the last couple of hundred years? What led us to where we are today – with bookshelves lined with sexy werewolves and other shifters?  As with everything, what was once taboo becomes titillating. Carl Jung would tell us that we are exploring our own shadow nature when we are drawn to these beasts, that their existences in the limens between death and life is what makes them so attractive to us. We fear our own shadow natures, the things that make us beastly, but yet we recognize ourselves in them, too.

But that cannot be everything, right? There is also something of redemption in the story of a beast who becomes man (or vice versa). In my opinion, we all want to be the one for whom the beast recognizes his humanity. We all wish to be the one for whom the beast can become man again.

            And, of course, they are just so damn sexy.

(this was originally posted on Katya Armock's blog on February 21st)