Week Nine: The Wolfman

For this week’s reading, we’re leaving the alien future for the Victorian past in Jonathan Mayberry’s novelization of the movie The Wolfman. I saw the movie back when it came out in 2010 with high hopes. But the movie left me feeling rather… meh. I’ve seen worse, but I've seen far better, and I expected more. When I saw the book on the reading list, my first thought was that the movie was based on the book. After discovering this wasn't the case, I was hesitant. The movie wasn't anything to write home about, and the novelization would be the movie in paper form.

I was pleasantly proved wrong. Author Jonathan Mayberry fleshed out the somewhat flat story of The Wolfman and made it an enjoyable read. Yes, the plot of the book exactly followed the plot of the movie, but isn't that the point of a novelization?

Werewolves are some of the classic bad beasties, but recently—like pretty much all monsters—they've turned into brooding heartthrobs with washboard abs who aren't evil, just misunderstood. I don’t mind a sexy werewolf every now and then (and there are some sexy times thrown into the book), but it’s refreshing to get back to basics. Werewolves represent the most base, primal, violent urges of mankind that (hopefully) lay dormant in most, but are exaggerated and acted upon when in the wolf state. They don’t represent, well, puppies.

Lawrence Talbot, the Wolfman, is a true werewolf, and unlike the movie, I was better able to get inside his head. While I watched Benicio Del Toro who played Talbot turn into the Wolfman on screen, I felt Talbot turn into the monster on the page, and it was a cringe-worthy experience. Every bone in the body broken to be reshaped, every tooth pushed free by a fresh set of fangs.

Ouch is an understatement.

The Wolfman is his own creature, with no hint of the man he used to be. Mayberry makes a clear distinction between Lawrence and the Wolfman by giving them their own POVs and not using their names interchangeably. While I found myself looking at the monster in the movie to try to figure out how they did the makeup, I was right there when it was completely lost to instinct and went on its killing spree when I read the same scene.

I watched the horror of realization spread over Del Toro’s face when Talbot understands he’s the monster, but I experienced the horror of this realization with him as I read. I’ve always been a fan of werewolves, but never really thought about how terrifying it would be to completely lose control and commit horrible acts, then later comprehend the extent of what happened because of that loss of control. Not to mention the fear of what would happen if control was loss again, but in the presence of a loved one.

I loved this full access into the monster’s head that I didn't get while watching the movie. It isn't a werewolf reinvented, but a werewolf examined as a monster rather than a tortured soul. There is some tortured soul action, but from Lawrence’s point of view instead of the Wolfman's. And the reactions to being a werewolf are compared and contrasted between Lawrence who hates what he is and his maker who fully embraces the monster within.

Overall, the novelization took the story to the next level, which the movie failed to achieve. Instead of being just another monster story, The Wolfman novelization helped the reader to participate in what it could be like to be a werewolf by engaging the imagination, which isn’t the most glamorous way to portray these monsters in most books on the shelves. But this was the first time I've cringed during a werewolf transformation, book or otherwise, and there’s nothing wrong with that.