The Greek Origins of Lycanthropy: A Mini-Essay

     The concept of lycanthropy reached a zenith between the late-sixteenth and early-seventeenth centuries (read about the legal trials of lycanthropes here). Derived from the Greek lukos, meaning wolf, the term began to appear in scholarly texts toward the end of the 1500s, including Reginald Scot’s The Discoverie of Witchcraft published in 1584.[1] Although Scot and his contemporaries heatedly debated the causes of lycanthropy, the notion itself remained rather universal: the lycanthrope was a hapless individual who transformed into a wolf and terrorized local villages. In fact, the belief was not new to European cultures and much of the lore surrounding this transmogrification spawns from Greek mythology, namely the tale of Lycaon.[2] 
     Akin to many myths, variations of the tale exist; however, the basic story is relatively similar. Lycaon, the king of Arcadia and the son of Pelasgus and Meliboea, challenges the authority of Zeus by inviting him to a grand feast, were a human – rather than the traditional cow, goat, pig, or sheep – is sacrificed in the god’s honor and served at the party. Angered by the action, Zeus punishes Lycaon by transforming him into a wolf.[3] In some renditions, including that contained in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the sacrifice is a random slave or hostage and both Lycaon and his offspring are transformed into wolves. In other versions, Lycaon butchers his son Nyctium, who is returned to life by Zeus and made king of Arcadia following his father and sibling’s conversions.[4] Despite the slight differences, the overall theme remains the same: Lycaon and his family commit an animalistic crime and are punished for their brutality by becoming vicious animals themselves. The concept, C. Scott Littleton emphasizes, reinforces Greek perceptions regarding the distinction between civilized humanity and barbarous animals.[5] Indeed, it is a premise which continues to surround the lycanthrope mythology. In both seventeenth-century France and modern society, the lycanthrope is often viewed as an individual whose refined human state is overcome with animalistic urges. In the case of Lycaon and his offspring, this barbarity is done willingly and their subsequent alterations are a castigation for that. For the criminals of Scot’s era, it is a demon-delusion which has forced them to stray from their Christian ways and, as Scot and his peers argued, requires compassion and professional treatment.

Works Referenced

Gallagher, David. Metamorphosis: Transformations of the Body and the Influence of Ovid’s Metamorphoses on Germanic Literature of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2009.

Littleton, C. Scott. Gods, Goddesses, and Mythology. Vol. 6. New York: Marshall Cavendish, 2005.

Otten, Charlotte, ed. A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture. New York: Syracuse University Press, 1986.

Sconduto, Leslie. Metamorphoses of the Werewolf: A Literary Study from Antiquity through the Renaissance. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, 2008. 
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[1] Otten, 115. 
[2] Sconduto, 9-10. 
[3] Littleton, 824. 
[4] Gallagher, 311. 
[5] Littleton, 824.

Fake Corn Stalks

$50 - $60 (based on 2016 prices)

Makes twelve stalks

I originally intended to buy dozens of dried corn stalks from local farms to decorate the haunt. Ambition quickly overtook me and I decided to craft my own out of PVC pipes and craft foam. It cannot be that hard, I told myself. Akin to the rotten pumpkins, these proved a daunting project which took several weeks to complete. In hindsight, purchasing the stalks would have been easier; however, the finished product impressed quite a few people at the haunt (many of whom thought they were real).

• Six 1” x 10’ PVC pipes
• Six packages of 8” x 12” foam craft sheets (ten sheets per package)
• Six 10 oz. cans of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in summer squash
• Two 10 oz. cans of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in nutmeg
• Four 10 oz. cans of interior/exterior, fast-drying spray paint in lemon grass
• Three 1.75 oz. bundles of tan raffia

1. Measure the foam sheets into three 2 5/8” sections and cut them into 180 strips. This procedure can be rather lengthy and grueling, so try to employ a few helping hands.

2. Trace a leaf pattern onto each strip and cut them out. Here, too, this step can be tedious, so assistance would be ideal. Likewise, the use of a stencil can make the process easier.

3. To shape the leaf, fold the foam in half and use a ruler to form a crease. Then, run a line of hot glue along the center of the crease, fold the foam in half again, and use the ruler to hold down the leaf as the glue dries. Here, as well, extra hands can make the procedure more tolerable.

4. In a well-ventilated area, arrange the leaves onto a newspaper-lined surface and give each side two even coats of summer squash. You, of course, are free to use more or less depending on your desired coverage. To prevent the leaves from moving during the application process, use painter’s tape to adhere them to the newspaper. After the coats have dried, give both sides a light dusting of nutmeg.

5. Measure the PVC pipes into five-foot sections and, with a hacksaw, cut them out. Once this is done, use sandpaper to clean up the edges.

6. Wipe down the pipes with a damp cloth and, on a newspaper-lined surface in a well-ventilated area, give them two even coats of lemon grass and a dusting of nutmeg. As with the leaves, you may apply more or less paint.

7. Mark the pipes into sections (a ten-inch section at the base and then nine-inch sections afterward) and hot glue the leaves to each marking. For believability, alternating their color and position.

8. Coat the top of the pipe with glue, cut the raffia into small bunches, and adhere them to the top of the stalks to form tassels. I found that using the end of a pen works well to feed the raffia into the pipe.

9. If you choose to do so, give the finished stalks one final dusting of nutmeg to cover any areas missed during the initial painting processes and to unify the color scheme.

"God's Acre" (A Poem)

First published in Democratic Review in 1841, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “God’s Acre” draws heavily on Christian imagery for its rumination on death, the afterlife, and the role of the graveyard in both of these factors.[1] For the poet, the cemetery is a garden, where souls are planted and harvested for rebirth in Heaven.[2] What I’ve always found fascinating about Longfellow’s depiction is how Death is represented as a farmer who plants the souls and tills the ground. It’s a humbler portrayal of a figure often illustrated in a colder, darker light. Interestingly, Longfellow wrote to a friend, Samuel Ward, later that same year expressing how he would rather be cremated than buried.[3]

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls
The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just;
It consecrates each grave within its walls,
And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.

God's-Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts
Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown
The seed that they had garnered in their hearts,
Their bread of life, alas! no more their own.

Into its furrows shall we all be cast,
In the sure faith, that we shall rise again
At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast
Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain.

Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom,
In the fair gardens of that second birth;
And each bright blossom mingle its perfume
With that of flowers, which never bloomed on earth.

With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod,
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow;
This is the field and Acre of our God,
This is the place where human harvests grow.[4]

Works Referenced

Gale, Robert. A Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Companion. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2003. 

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth. “God’s Acre.” The Poems of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Ed. Louis Untermeyer. Norwalk, CT: The Easton Press, 1980. 148. 

Palaez, Monica. “‘A Love of Heaven and Virtue:’ Why Longfellow Sentimentalizes Death.” Reconsidering Longfellow. Ed. Christoph Irmscher and Robert Arbour. Madison: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2014. 53-70.
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[1] Gale, 95.
[2] Pelaez, 57-60.
[3] Gale, 95. 
[4] Longfellow, 148.

Severed Ears

$10 - $12 (based on 2016 prices)

Makes three ears

Since my little brother and I began yard haunting in the early 2000s, we have watched the quality of Halloween props gradually diminish (I miss the days of Don Post and Mario Chiodo). It has been rather bittersweet: I’m saddened by the growing mediocrity, yet happy that this has forced me to create more of my own items. One area where I have seen the worst degeneration is in the believability of severed body parts. Over the past few years, I’ve been working on repainting store-bought parts with a more realistic patina (see my severed fingers here) and the results have been quite enjoyable.

• Three vinyl ears
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in burgundy*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in coral*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in deep maroon*
• One 2 oz. bottle of acrylic paint in flesh tone*

1. On a newspaper-lined surface, apply three even coats of flesh-tone paint to the ears. Although I used three, you may want more or less based on your desired coverage. 

2. Once the flesh-tone paint has dried, turn the ears over and coat the inside with deep maroon. Akin to step one, I used three layers of this color, but you may alter that number to cater toward your preferences.

3. Give the ears a smudging of coral paint. Focus primarily on the tips of the ears and along the curvatures of the helix and tragus. Use your own skin patterns or those found in a medical textbook for reference. I discovered that applying a small amount of paint to your thumb and index finger and rubbing it onto the prop works well.

4. Using a brush with splayed bristles, apply a smattering of burgundy paint around the wounds and up the sides of the ears.

5. Repeat the process in step four with the inside of the ears and focus your application into the folds and fissures to give depth.

6. For additional detail, you can create random abrasions along the ears by dabbing burgundy paint with a splayed-bristle brush and adding dark red paint to the centers.

*You will not use the entire bottle’s content for this project.