Since this blog was originally intended to focus on female werewolves in popular culture, I thought it would be good to devote a whole post to our favourite she-wolves.
A little poll is in order, I think. Who is your favourite female werewolf of all time? Have a read through the nominations, and cast your vote (or nominate your own) in the comments.
1. Kelsey 'Boobs' Bornstein (in 'Boobs' by Suzy McKee Charnas)Nominated by K.A Laity, academic, novelist and short story writer, author of Unikirja and Pelzmantel"It's really hard to choose: I love the
Ginger Snaps films and shaking my booty to Shakira's 'She Wolf' but I have to say I have a real fondness for Suzy McKee Charnas' 'Boobs' which I was lucky enough to experience the author herself reading once. 'Boobs' Bornstein is a developing teen whose developments get unwanted notice from a local bully. The trauma of her first period, despite the well-meaning kindness of her stepmother, seems poised to make adolescence a living hell - until another transformation occurs. I think what I like best about Charnas' story is the self-assurance Bornstein gains when she understands how powerful she really is - and not just because she becomes a wolf."
2. Sergeant Angua (in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series)Nominated by Kirsty Buchanan, English student and Pratchett fan"
Delphine Angua von Uberwald, daughter of the Baron and Baroness of Uberwald and sister of Wolfgang, Elsa and Andrei, is a Captain of the Ankh Morpork City Watch. She frequently outwits both criminals and fellow watch members, and often uses her werewolf nature to solve crimes and apprehend perpetrators. Despite being entirely independent and single minded in her work she is at times conflicted about her position within the city as a whole and in particular in her relationship with the naïve Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson (who happens to be the true heir to the throne). She frequently puts herself in danger to help others both in wolf and female human form. However she is all too aware that in human form, people only see the wolf in her and while in wolf form 'people' only see the human in her. Angua exhibits loyalty to the Watch above all, stating after she's been kidnapped and Carrot fails to make chase immediately that 'personal is not the same as important'. Pratchett plays with this example of inequality in relationships and exploits the sense of loyalty felt by her wolf side to make his point. Angua states plainly in Jingo that there’s a name for wolves who live with humans, and that name is 'dog'. Angua is a many layered female werewolf who frequently forces us to examine the extent of prejudice in society, our perceptions of others and the relative value of loyalty in relationships."
3. 'Wolfgirl' (in The Company of Wolves)Nominated by Steve Rouse, writer, learning and development trainer and stalwart of Manchester's longstanding creative writing workshop, the Monday Night Group"A werewolf that's always stayed in my mind is the 'Wolfgirl' from Neil
Jordan’s 1984 film,
The Company of Wolves. I think what appeals is the tenderness with which she’s treated in the film. She emerges as a she-wolf from the underworld, is shot by a villager, then treated kindly by a priest who tends her wound; and returns to the underworld thereafter. She is a very non-aggressive werewolf, who becomes both victim and beneficiary during her brief visit to the human (male?) world. It’s a very short passage in the film (4 minutes or so) but neatly seems to summarise our nervous and contradictory relationship to the 'wild' (the Wolf Girl reminds me of so-called 'wild children' such as Kaspar Hauser) - fascinated, repelled, afraid in equal measure. And, of course, there's the whole Freudian/feminist underpinning of
Company of Wolves, with its (hardly) sub-text of sexual awakening, the 'otherness' of the female, etc. The Wolf Girl was played by Danielle Dax, an experimental musician and producer."
4. Nina (in Being Human)Nominated by Rob Shedwick, musician and songwriter with Th3 M1ss1ing and Digital Front
"My girlfriend is a big fan of Being Human (the television series, not the general state of being a human), and after explaining the premise to me of a vampire, werewolf, and ghost living together I was intrigued - soon to be marginally obsessed, insisting that we watch the first three series virtually back-to-back. My allegiance quite quickly fell on the side of George and his girlfriend Nina, mainly because of their relationship as werewolves. I can't lie, George's gnome wallpaper was also a factor. Nina initially has a fairly tough exterior, probably as a result of an abusive childhood. She hints at this when she reveals scars on her stomach, in an attempt to show George she also has secrets and to get him to open up about his own problems. Eventually she does discover what he's been hiding, unfortunately during his transformation, and he accidentally scratches her - sharing his werewolf curse. What I particularly like about Nina as a werewolf is the complication of her becoming pregnant, and the concerns and fears that brings about for her - much like any mother during her first pregnancy, she is afraid of the unknown. But, unlike most first-time parents, she has additional concerns like whether the baby will survive her transformation process each month, and whether or not the child will be a werewolf. As the foetus is developing at twice the normal rate (by the end of Series 3), I'd say there's a fairly good chance that it will be. I'm looking forward to the upcoming fourth series and the further development of Nina’s character."
5. Kitty Norville (in Carrie Vaughn's Kitty Norville books)Nominated by Carys Crossen, PhD candidate and werewolf scholar"First of all, who could resist a werewolf named Kitty? (The name
came first, apparently). But it takes a lot more than a gimmick to produce a truly memorable female werewolf, and Kitty delivers. Vaughn's fast-thinking, fast-talking heroine is a radio DJ with a nice line in sarcasm and a penchant for trouble. Vaughn’s series charts Kitty's development from the lowest-ranking member of a dysfunctional pack to becoming the alpha of her group of werewolves, a celebrity and expert in paranormal phenomena, providing plenty of angst, adventure and one-liners along the way. Kitty herself is a refreshing change of pace – she doesn't waste time agonising over whether lycanthropy has turned her into a monster, instead choosing to spend her time fighting the good fight and playing good music to her multitude of fans."
6. Brigitte Fitzgerald (in Ginger Snaps: Unleashed)Nominated by Andrew Quinton, writer and creator of Werewolf News"The Ginger Snaps films are fantastic, but they're also poorly named, and I'm not talking about the tiresome pun. Granted, each film features a protagonist named Ginger whose behaviour (poor Sam, poor Fort Bailey) could be attributed to a mental 'snap', but I don't feel the films were really about her. Despite her metamorphoses she doesn't change much throughout the series – she's not even alive in
Ginger Snaps 2 – and when she does act to drive the story forward, the catalyst tends to be bestial instinct rather than the growth of her character. No, despite what their titles imply, I think the
Ginger Snaps films are really about Ginger's younger sister Brigitte. Pale, meek, unsmiling, forever trapped in the shadow (or haunted by the shade) of her older sister, she's constantly forced to be the strong one, to think for them both, to make all the sacrifices and bear all the consequences. In the first film,
Ginger Snaps, Brigitte watches helplessly as her sister and best friend turns into a monster. While Ginger reacts to her changes first with denial and then with petulant hostility, Brigitte doesn't have the luxury of such emotional indulgences. She's forced to act as her monster -sister's caretaker – first researching the affliction, then helping develop the cure, and eventually cleaning up the carnage left by an increasingly monstrous Ginger. When her efforts fail, Brigitte's final appeal to her sister is made not with reason but with blood, and ultimately even that sacrifice is in vain. Brigitte's connection to the life she knows is irrevocably broken, and she doesn't even have the comfort of her sister's companionship to soften the blow. Yet when we meet Brigitte at the start of the second film, it's clear that while she might mourn the life she left behind, she's determined to move forward, resolute and unflinching in the faces of her ghosts. Brigitte is easily my favourite female werewolf, not because of who or what she is but what she does. Ignore her incipient lycanthropy and she’s still the character who changes the most throughout the Ginger Snaps series, endures the worst hardships, and still manages to embody some of the very finest human qualities."
7. White Fell (in Clemence Housman's The Were-Wolf) Nominated by Carys Crossen "Heard of Clemence Housman? No? Unsurprising – Housman has been overshadowed for decades by her more well-known brothers, poet Alfred Edward (A. E. Housman) and suffrage campaigner Laurence. This also means, sadly, that her werewolf White Fell, who is one of the central characters of her novella
The Were-Wolf, has also largely fallen into undeserved obscurity. It's undeserved because White Fell is beautiful, dangerous, and deadly, and is a refreshing contrast to the rather goody-goody hero who serves as her main opponent. More than this, White Fell is arguably one of the earliest instances in which a female author has written about a female werewolf and used the figure of the werewolf to express 'the complex and antagonistic forces that constitute one soul'. Although not famous enough to be termed ground-breaking, the character of White Fell marks a significant development in the portrayal of female werewolves in literature – the moment when women authors began to utilise the figure of the female werewolf to express feminine concerns and anxieties."
8. Leah Clearwater (in Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series)
Nominated by Hannah Kate, writer, blogger and editor for Hic Dragones
"Okay, this is a somewhat controversial choice. And I would like to make it clear that I am definitively NOT a Twilight fan. I really did not enjoy the books. However, I am absolutely fascinated by the character of Leah Clearwater - the only (and unexpected) female werewolf in Meyer's books. Leah gets no choice about whether or not she gets to be a werewolf. But lycanthropy is not a curse for her - it's a sacred duty. The problem is, until Leah, this sacred duty has been reserved for strictly men only. As soon as she transforms, her outsider status is secured. The other male werewolves are horrified by the prospect of this young woman sharing their 'pack mind'. What makes the presentation of Leah so compelling is the utter cruelty of her situation. She is forced to share her entire psyche with a group of young, testosterone-fuelled men, including her ex-boyfriend who has now 'imprinted' on her cousin. Her physical development is halted (Meyer has said in interviews that she imagined the werewolf state halted Leah's menstrual cycle) and she does not know whether or not she will be able to bear children. At the end of
Breaking Dawn, when every single other character is paired off for a 'happy ending', Leah is left completely on her own. How does our teenage werewolf handle this cruel life she is forced into? With bitterness, anger and angst. No lying down and losing a few months like Bella... Leah complains, grumbles and torments her male 'pack'. This is what I love about her. Who says the best female werewolves have to be brave, noble, self-sacrificing and loyal? It's an angsty and aggressive, pained and petulant anti-heroine for me every time."
Voting is now closed. View the results here!
However, I’m actually going to start with some stories from prehistory. Something really rather 'ancient', is this piece on Quigley’s Cabinet about artefacts discovered in South Africa that point to the existence of a 100,000-year-old ochre-processing workshop. The History Blog discusses human-inflicted wounds on a 13,800-year-old mastodon skeleton, which prove that 'American hunting is 800 years older than we thought'. And something quite close to my ginger heart, The Ancient Standard tells us that the gene responsible for red hair and freckles may have been found in Neanderthals living 100,000 years ago in Europe.
Perhaps one of the most popular 'medieval' stories of the past month has been the reconstruction of the 'Black Death genome', using DNA samples taken from a fourteenth-century plague pit in East Smithfield, London. I won't list all the blogs that pick up the story, as there are many, but among them are Contagions, nature.com and MIT's technology review. For Francophone readers, the story also appears on Docbuzz.
