Marie de France's Bisclavret

Marie de France's Bisclavret (as translated by Judith Shoaf), a twelfth-century Breton lay about a werewolf. In a word, we can describe it awesome. From Bisclavret, we learn early in the poem, that it gives detail about a warewolf. "Garwaf" or "garwolf."

The story's theme establishes itself very early on; in the first few lines, Marie tells us that "[a] garwolf is a savage beast / While the fury's on it, at least: / Eats men, wreaks evil, does no good ..." before proceeding to tell us that none of that applies to our garwolf, the eponymous, or rather retronymical, Bisclavret. The monster of the story isn't the beast at all. He's our noble and ennobled hero, courtly and thoughtful rather than cunning or thoughtlessly brutal; "He was and acted like a noble man. (James F. Sennett Pp. 31)

His wife is additionally set up rather ideally, as, in fact, a "worthy woman," who "acted beautifully." Yet that beauty of action is almost wholly absent; she is, in fact, the great contrast to her husband, the antagonist of the story who acts only selfishly, without care or thought for others, regardless of the suffering she inflicts. She is quick-witted and cunning, devising her plans swiftly and subtly; no sooner does she hear of her husband's plight than she demands to know where he keeps his clothes, which he needs to return to his humanity, that she might steal them and trap him. She plays upon his trust to complete her aims, saying she loves him more than all the world, and that she is unassailably loyal; "Where are your clothes? Tell, for God's sake. "He succumbs to her nagging, and renders to her the information. She promptly enlists the aid of a character I like to call the Smitten ...