Calabrian Werewolf December 23, 2017
Author: Beach Combing | in : Modern , trackback
This is a delightful piece on a Calabrian werewolf from Norman Douglas: we are in deepest southern Italy, 1907-1911. In some senses it is a massive anti-climax, but perhaps that is the point…
At last we started, and I began to slumber once more. The carriage seemed to be going down a steep incline; endlessly it descended, with a pleasant swaying motion. . . . Then an icy shiver roused me from my dreams. It was the Crati whose rapid waves, fraught with unhealthy chills, rippled brightly in the moonlight. We crossed the malarious [malarial?] valley, and once more touched the hills. From those treeless slopes there streamed forth deliciously warm emanations stored up during the scorching hours of noon; the short scrub that clothed them was redolent of that peculiar Calabrian odour which haunts one like a melody – an odour of dried cistus and other aromatic plants, balsamic by day, almost overpowering at this hour. To aid and diversify the symphony of perfume, I lit a cigar, and then gave myself up to contemplation of the heavenly bodies. We passed a solitary man, walking swiftly with bowed head. What was he doing there?
‘Lupomanaro,’ said the driver.
A werewolf. . . .
I had always hoped to meet with a werewolf on his nocturnal rambles, and now my wish was gratified. But it was disappointing to see him in human garb – even werewolves, it seems, must march with the times.
We go on to learn that only pigs can sniff out a werewolf in human guise in the day. (Douglas 2007 [1915] 176)
Any other Italian werewolves: drbeachcombing Gmail DOT com
Busy day today with the Beachcombing Christmas party: felicitations to you all!
