Abraham "Bram" Stoker (November 8, 1847 – April 20, 1912) was an Irish novelist and short story writer, best known today for his 1897 Gothic novel Dracula. During his lifetime, he was better known as personal assistant of actor Henry Irving and business manager of the Lyceum Theatre in London, which Irving owned.

Leah Kern: The Shortcomings of the Victorian Werewolf



Human beings possess an innate drive to create tension; psychologist Carl Jung will
argue that this is because the unconscious mind contains animalistic desires that are socially
unacceptable and must be suppressed. However, these dark cravings of sexuality and violence
manifest in other, more tolerable, forms, such as literature. For centuries, authors have projected
their inner wishes into writing, allowing themselves and their audience to enjoy what is normally
disapproved. Vampire and werewolf topics especially serve as a means to express sexual and
aggressive urges. Although sex and violence are considered far less taboo acts in today‟s world,
earlier time periods rely on stories to illustrate what is denied by society‟s standards, particularly
in the Victorian era. The Victorian period builds upon the Gothic ideology created during the
Romantic era, so Gothic ideas do not disappear with the passing decades—its exploitation of
forbidden desires continues to influence Victorian writers, like Bram Stoker and Clemence
Housman.
During this time, arguably the greatest vampire novel (in terms of its effect on vampire
culture) emerges when Stoker introduces Dracula to Victorian England and to the world. While
this signifies a monumental moment for vampire intrigue, werewolf stories do not collect as
much literary regard until years later. No great werewolf novel is created for Victorian England;
instead, several short stories develop, such as Housman‟s “The Werewolf.” Yet even these
stories fail to compare to Dracula. One must ask why this is this case. Both werewolves and
vampires symbolize the socially unacceptable “other,” where the term, “other,” represents the
socially deviant outsider who fails to conform (sometimes by choice) to societal standards. Even
so, Victorian England still identifies more with the vampire manifestation of this “other.” To
thoroughly examine a vampire versus a werewolf, one finds several similarities in terms of
violence and physical origins; however, werewolves express a less humanistic, sexually
repulsive, nature, which causes society to initially reject them.
When studying the origins of vampire and werewolf myths, one discovers that there are
historical examples for both of these supernatural ideas. Essentially, true, physical cases of
lycanthropy and vampirism exist, evidence that enhances the fear and intrigue behind the myths
and behind the stories created with these myths. In her anthology of short werewolf stories,
Charlotte Otten points out this very concept, noting,
It is dizzying, however, to enter the world of the fictive werewolf. It is not an isolated,
artificially constructed world. Outside the fictive world of werewolves there exists a
world in which the actuality of werewolves has been validated…the world of werewolf
fiction is so unsettling because luring in the culture are documented instances of
lycanthropy. The distinction between fiction and actual life blurs. The horror intensifies
(xxxi). 

 
Otten understands that when there is documentation behind any horrifying theme, observers will
have a harder time releasing fear since the possibility of it actually happening remains.
Psychologists today view lycanthropy as a mental delusion, but past societies, due to their
limited technology, struggle to be as rational. Lacking this advanced equipment, scientists
cannot gather the means to invalidate supernatural myths—because the fields of psychology and
medicine require the tools and knowledge found in modern society, people of earlier centuries
(i.e. Victorian England) retain this fear of werewolves and vampires more easily. Contemporary
society knows that a person “who refuses to eat anything but raw, bloody meat” or “lets out hair-
raising bestial howls” suffers from some kind of psychological disorder; Victorians, on the other
hand, may be inclined to believe that these are early signs of one transforming into a werewolf
 (Woodward 19). With no way to disprove such physical “symptoms,” Victorian England
becomes a victim to chilling folklore in both the werewolf and vampire realms.
Inspecting the vampire myth, one discovers similar physical origins to the werewolf
where most vampire “signs” arise from some disease or illness. While lycanthropy is the main
explanation for werewolves, a wider range of vampire myths and explanations exist. Mythically,
the vampire has an extensive variety of traits. Everywhere from the Philippines to Eastern
Europe some kind of vampire myth survives (Wolf 23). Author Bram Stoker creates his iconic
Dracula with primarily Eastern European folklore, especially from Slovakia and Transylvania
(Kirtley 16). In Transylvania, myths often form from diseases, like catalepsy, causing premature
burials; as such, “„corpses‟ would stir and revive in a shallow grave. The peasants practiced the
ritual of exhuming the dead. Twisted bodies in crypts and coffins would provide proof that the
body had been possessed by a vampire” (Varma 46). Not all physical accounts of the vampire
are disgusting, though. Other cultures find the vampire as modern culture sees it: a sexually
deviant, yet intriguing figure. For instance, some vampire folklore portrays vampires with “the
behavior of succubi who, not content with draining their victims‟ blood, also wore them down
with their insatiable sexual attractions” (Wolf 23). Apparently, sexuality has been linked with
the vampire from the very beginning—even a vampire‟s killing method maintains sexual
connotations as he sucks the blood from innocent victims rather than “rip bodies apart”
(Twitchell 111). Nonetheless, the vampire also associates with fear and death, two startling
outcomes to which the werewolf myth has remained connected as well. Succubi aside, both
vampires and werewolves provide readers with concrete, realistic reasons to develop unsettled
horror.


The myths discussed above unveil physical manifestations of the vampire and werewolf
in a way that imply the two are completely separate; yet, earlier lore depicts the vampire and the
werewolf as the same monster. So while today‟s culture sees two distinct monsters, older
societies, such as Serbia, distinguish only one creature, the werewolf-vampire. Regarding
Serbian belief, researcher Ian Woodward notes how together the two monsters are known as “the
vulkodlak, and […] are most active during the bleakest winter months. At their annual
gatherings they strip off their wolfskins and hang them on the nearby trees” (130). This myth
stands out in werewolf-vampire lore since Serbian natives include a positive ending to their
tale—if fire destroys the stripped skins, the vulkodlak releases “from its fiendish enchantment”
(Woodward 130). In general, this Serbian tale, with its hopeful opportunity, differs from typical
werewolf-vampire folklore. Instead most countries, according to Woodward, propose that “the
werewolf collapses into a state of catalepsy, during which his soul departs from his body and
enters that of a wolf, when it preys voraciously on blood” (149). Using this particular legend, the
werewolf loses its soul once it starts to crave blood, or becomes a vampire. Such an argument
indicates that the vampire is the “evil” or damning part of the relationship. Other research
postulates a similar theory, suggesting, “A vampire, then, is altogether another thing from a
werewolf. The former is dead; the latter is fearfully alive, although […] there is indeed a
connection of sort between the two” (Summers 15). Ironically, werewolves are supposed to be
the “good,” humanistic part of this werewolf-vampire creature—the werewolf belongs to nature
or life, as opposed to the vampire who only brings death. In accordance with this legend,
Victorians (or people in general) will presumably bond or connect with the werewolf more as it
appeals the living, not the dead. The popularity of Stoker‟s Dracula (and vampire stories
overall) negates this assumption, suggesting that is not the myths, or physical origins, behind
these stories that cause a difference in Victorian popularity.
Psychologically, vampires and werewolves are on par with one another, as well (yet only
to a certain extent); they resonate with those unacceptable needs and desires buried deep within a
person‟s unconscious mind. Jung asserts that monsters, or in this case, vampires and
werewolves, have a special place in one‟s unconscious—an archetype called the shadow, which
is a necessary part of the collective unconscious. According to Jung, every single person in the
world harbors a collective unconscious, or the “deepest layer of the human psyche;”
consequently, Jung “conceived its contents as a combination of universally prevalent patterns
and forces called „archetypes‟ and „instincts.‟ In his view, there is nothing individual or unique
about human beings at this level” (Stein 88). Essentially, everyone in existence has this
psychological quality, which enhances interest in darker topics. Thus, the shadow can only be
realized when a person projects shadow-like topics onto other people, objects, or ideas. To
consider the shadow and its contents, remember that it “has an immoral or at least a disreputable
quality, containing features of a person‟s nature that are contrary to the customs and moral
connections of society” (Stein 107). The shadow cannot easily be released (at least without
social consequences); hence, why Jung uses the shadow to explain people enjoying horror
movies or taboo stories. Taking into account this psychological mechanism, the publication of
numerous vampire and werewolf stories makes sense—everyone needs some kind of outlet for
their shadow. By presenting vampire and werewolf stories to the world, authors provide an
acceptable way to “integrate” one‟s shadow into everyday life. However, vampires and
werewolves do not spark the same intrigue on Victorian shadows, even though they are both part
of the shadow archetype.

In Victorian minds, vampires and werewolves provide differing psychological influences;
werewolves fail to fulfill the Victorian shadow, so to speak. Historically, one discovers potential
reasons for why this is. Victorian England, commonly known for expressing a focus on
emotional control, fulfils the necessity for polite, proper society. Much of this derives from the
period‟s namesake, Queen Victoria, who exhibits “severe and moralistic” ideals during her reign
(Adams 401). Consequently, England‟s values follow those of Queen Victoria to the point
where the term “Victorian” reflects a mindset of “stiff and gloomy prudery” (401). Nevertheless,
more information needs to be considered, especially when searching for why Victorian views on
vampires and werewolves differ. Prior to the Victorian period, England experiences a time of
rebellion against the norms, more specifically known as the Gothic era. In response to this
movement, Victorians attempt to again make focal the values of purity and propriety. For
decades, “Victorian society, to function, depended on control and self-discipline. The
traditional, slightly more relaxed sanctions and controls of the rural community could not work
in urban society. Social persecution was invented to maintain cultural discipline, and it
functioned with a vengeance in Victorian Britain” (Black 384). Such values seemingly emerge
due to the Victorian rebellion against the Gothic and because of thriving British imperialism at
this point in history. British development and influence spreads heavily during the Victorian era,
a task that requires much control, maintenance, and prestige in the eyes of these other countries.
Essentially, England rules at the top, a distinction that does not compare well with werewolves
who “embodied a composite Otherness which gave expression to anxieties about working-class
degeneracy, aristocratic decadence, racial atavism, women‟s corporeality and sexuality, and the
human relationship to the animal world” (Du Coudray 50). Because this symbolizes a time of
dignity and power, Victorians view inferior status as a threat to these ideals—the lower classes
do not have the means to improve their unacceptable behavior.
Considering this class factor, researcher Chantal Du Coudray suggests that lycanthropy
associates with the lower classes, a status of which Victorians do not approve (50). During this
time, members of the working class are even compared to animals concerning various physical
features, like that of wolves. As maintained by Du Coudray, “the depiction of these classes in
terms of an animal physiognomy was not uncommon in nineteenth-century discourse; Henry
Mayhew, for instance, asserted that street people were notable for a greater development of the
animal than the intellectual or moral nature of man” and “for their high cheek bones and
protruding jaws” (45). Physically, the working class keeps harsh appearances, which is why they
parallel the werewolf (with its monstrous face and excessive fur) so well. Neither the working
class nor the werewolf succeeds in disguising their true natures, and both are shunned for being
what they are. The lower class, like the werewolf, acts as the “other” in society, part of the sub-
surface, or the component of society that Victorians wish to conceal. This value for lower class
concealment originates from fear, specifically fear that “high society would be contaminated”
(Wilson 187). As with the bite of a werewolf, Victorians worry that they will be infected, in a
manner of speaking, through association with the immorality of the lower class. Accordingly,
contamination is to be avoided at all costs since Victorian England needs to be seen (at least on
the surface) as a prosperous and healthy nation. Werewolves, in effect, correlate with all of the
anxieties and threats that Victorian England wishes to exterminate.
As a result of ruling at the top, the Victorians become accustomed to separating their
personal and public lives; public matters should only reveal the high status of English society, as
that is the role they are expected to fill. In contrast, werewolves do not exhibit this necessary
Victorian surface or appearance. They lack what Jung refers to as the “persona,” or one‟s social
façade. Jung‟s logic behind this archetype is described in the following:
The persona is the person that we become as a result of acculturation, education, and
adaptation of our physical and social environments […] Jung borrowed this term from the
Roman stage where persona referred to the actor‟s mask. By putting on a mask, the actor
assumed a specific role and an identity within the drama […] taken psychologically, the
persona is a functional complex whose job is both to conceal and to reveal an individual‟s
conscious thoughts and feelings to others (Stein 109).
Victorians strongly support using a social “mask” within society, as it shifts a focus to their
preferred values (of chastity, order, and etcetera) rather than the hidden urges of sexuality or
aggression. Dracula, too, puts on an acceptable “mask,” and although vampires, like
werewolves, represent the social “other,” Stoker illustrates Dracula in a way that makes him
more alluring to Victorians. For example, Stoker “adds a number of humanizing touches to
make Dracula appear noble and vulnerable as well as demonic and threatening; and it becomes
difficult to determine whether he is a hideous bloodsucker whose touch breeds death or a lonely
and silent figure who is hunted and persecuted” (Senf 95). What Dracula succeeds in doing that
literary werewolf figures do not is appearing honorable and proper on the surface, even if his
whims and thoughts indicate the opposite within his sub-surface. In essence, Victorians do not
mind if a person thinks about sex or harming others as long as the chosen social façade shows
him or her to be an upstanding, clean individual.
Along with the social façade, one must study the attitudes and values concerning sex of
this time to truly “know” the Victorians psychologically and historically. Though Victorians
deeply value decorum and cleanliness, the craving for the unknown or the “other” (explicitly


one‟s ability to be sexual and vicious upon will) remains after the Gothic era—the popularity of
Stoker‟s novel especially attests to that. Nevertheless, sexuality at this point is still complicated.
Strict ideals for sexuality derive from Enlightenment beliefs where one possesses “power of
environmental conditions over an individual‟s inner nature—extending even to his or her sex
drive” (Mason 7). The idea that one can suppress his or her sexual desires becomes widespread
in Victorian England, manifesting as a societal value. With that, it appears that the Victorians
opt to publicly avoid the subject of sex at all costs. Researcher Michael Mason entertains such a
notion, asserting, “Victorian middle-class wives […] suffered an actual deprivation of sexual
pleasure because of moralistic ignorance about women‟s sexual responses. On the other hand,
[…] middle-class husbands were generally cynical disbelievers of the moralistic code they public
expressed, and routinely resorted to prostitutes” (39). Both sexes, it seems, outwardly reject their
need for sexual expression, yet behind closed doors, suffer its absence or seek out other means of
sexual fulfillment. By employing such extreme behavior, Victorians must believe that “the sex
instinct is a powerful force that needs to be channeled in the proper way to be beneficial to
humanity” (Seidman 48). To control that desire, Victorians turn to vampires, who elicit sexual
responses allowed even under England‟s severe morals. On the whole, vampire fiction offers
tolerable forms of sexuality; hence why Victorian society permits Dracula to be read Becoming
a reader of Dracula allows Victorians to experience socially acceptable forms of sexuality,
which will prevent the desires from emerging in public. Even symbolically, Dracula presents
sexual matters, such as the staking of the once innocent Lucy by her fiancé, Arthur—the stake
clearly translates to the male penis when Arthur plunges the stake into her heart “with all his
might,” and in doing so, emphasizes his physical dominance over her (Stoker 201). This is just
one mere moment of sexuality in Stoker‟s novel that will entice Victorian readers.

Sexually, something about the vampire narrative sits well with Victorians in a way that
the werewolf tale does not. Perhaps werewolves and their transformation identify too strongly
with animals and the grotesque, leaving Victorians to be repulsed and their desires unsatisfied.
Even Du Coudray points out this revolting quality, arguing, “Few representations of such a
grotesque body can rival the werewolf‟s moment of metamorphosis from human into wolf, when
one form melts and twists into the other” (51). Similarly, considering werewolf sex scenes may
ring too reminiscently of bestiality, which is another drawback that removes nearly all sexual
intrigue or desire of the werewolf. Truthfully, the thought of a hairy wolf-like creature is
appalling and more frightening than it is sexy. On the other hand, Dracula, in addition to his
humanistic characteristics, supplies Victorians with access to aristocratic illustrations of
sexuality, specifically the “sado-masochistic sexuality that recognizes no limits and that no
structured social order can accept” (Hatlen 120). Victorians, in contradiction to their righteous
and disciplined standards, appreciate Dracula‟s ungoverned behaviors because unconsciously,
Victorians desire such freedom. Overall, Dracula‟s ability to be sexual appeals to the Victorians
since their society requires that they ignore sexuality and embrace chastity. This trait does not
apply only to Dracula; in general, vampires are quite sexy. Researcher John Allen Stevenson
addresses why vampires attract attention, suggesting,
Although the vampire reproduces differently, the ironic thing about vampire sexuality is
that, for all its overt peculiarity, it is in many ways very much like human sexuality, but
human sexuality in which the psychological or metaphoric becomes physical or literal. It
initially looks strange but quite often presents a distorted image of human tendencies and
behavior (76).

Stevenson‟s ideas propose that because vampires look and act human, particularly regarding sex,
that audiences will favor them. This theory goes along with Dracula‟s humanistic qualities—as a
result of Dracula‟s human-like depiction, aside from his deviant sexual nature, Victorians
“recognize” him as one of their own. In fact, most of the sexual scenes in Dracula maintain this
concept as they involve a bite on the neck, reminding readers of “the lover‟s kiss” (Fry 38).
Essentially, Victorians enjoy meeting a sexually intriguing villain who still appears humanistic in
his mannerisms. Stoker also introduces Dracula as a foreign aristocrat, a figure that appeals
more to Victorians than a lowly, uncivilized werewolf whose transformation proves more
monstrous than sexual. Unfortunately, werewolves lack the humanistic quality that will
otherwise allow Victorians to embrace these creatures.
Grotesque and animalistic are the two major traits of werewolves at this time, as
discussed above. Not to say that werewolves are completely without sexual intrigue, though.
Housman‟s “The Werewolf” introduces a beautiful, sexually tempting woman named White Fell
whose underlying form is that of a white wolf when the clock strikes midnight. As Housman
illustrates, this woman first appears as “a maiden, tall and very fair. The fashion of her dress was
strange, half masculine, yet not unwomanly. A fine fur tunic, reaching but little below the knee,
was all the skirt she wore; below were the cross-bound shoes and leggings that a hunter wears”
(23). Clearly, this woman has the physical beauty to arouse male interest, which she does in a
man named Swyen. In addition, Housman makes sure to describe White Fell‟s strangely
masculine attire, a depiction that foreshadows White Fell‟s underlying animalistic nature.
Housman even explains how White Fell looks like a hunter or predator through her physical
presentation. Both White Fell and Dracula relate in that sense—Stoker describes Dracula with a
fascinating yet threatening presence in the following:

His face was a strong—a very strong—aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and
peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round
the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting
over the nose, and with busy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so
far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with
peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness
showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years (Stoker 17).
Through this description, readers recognize the sexual yet frightening power Dracula seems to
radiate to those around him. Physically, Dracula and White Fell spark unavoidable interest, but
Stoker and Housman still make explicit their characters‟ dark inner natures. In addition to
physical appearance, White Fell, like Dracula, is foreign, a characteristic that Housman
spotlights with White Fell‟s slow, careful speech and inability to find the right word at times
(24). Both Dracula and White Fell are sexually intriguing, yet entertain sinister wishes for those
ignorant, innocent individuals around them.
By using Housman‟s “The Werewolf” as an example of the Victorian werewolf, one
cannot help but wonder why the werewolf tale does not attract as much interest in this period.
As shown, Dracula and White Fell connect on varying levels concerning violent urges and even
physical attractiveness, not to mention the fact that they are both foreign—through appearance
and speech, they act as the “other” in their respective stories. Even so, White Fell requires a
more monstrous transformation to release her animalistic nature, a necessity that successfully
removes her sexual intrigue. Once turned (and even prior to her physical change), White Fell
only has an interest in mutilating and destroying her prey. Unlike White Fell, Dracula‟s “only
physical deformity is slightly extended incisors, and this aberration does have a rather utilitarian
purpose” (Twitchell 111). Practicality aside, vampire fangs also allow Dracula to retain a sexual
fascination from audiences even when he drains blood from his victims; because “the exchange
of blood as metaphor for sexual intercourse” remains overt, Dracula‟s primary weapon, his
fangs, attracts the Victorians on a symbolic level (Malchow 129). On the other hand, White Fell
lacks the humanistic touch that Dracula has, which plays into the fact that Stoker never provides
Dracula with an opportunity to defend himself. Instead, readers must rely on the interpretations
of Jonathon Harker or Dr. Seward to judge Dracula‟s actions; this ambiguous writing technique
ultimately leads readers to wonder if Dracula is misunderstood. This proves not to be the case in
Housman‟s “The Werewolf,” which is told in third person. Very openly, Housman depicts
White Fell‟s evil nature through her eagerness to kill the young boy named Rol and the elderly
woman named Trella (28).
The Victorian werewolf lacks humanity, which explains why its popularity cannot
compare to that of the Victorian vampire. Psychologically, such an observation suggests that
although human beings do retain deep, unconscious, and animalistic wishes and thoughts, they
still need some kind of moral struggle to derive satisfaction from taboo material. As the literary
world finds, it is not until the werewolf story provides ethical conflict that its popularity soars.
In Victorian England, the werewolf has no qualms against killing children or elderly women, and
it also has a revolting transformation that extinguishes the sexuality desired by the Victorian
reader: these two characteristics appear to be deal-breakers in becoming accepted by Victorians.
The reason Dracula works so well and has so much success is that he acts as the sexual “other”
while also leaving his moral nature to the imagination; Victorians can suspect or hope that
Dracula, or vampires in general, struggles with his bloodthirsty urges. White Fell simply seeks
death with no indication of guilt or resistance. Likewise, White Fell feeds off of her
transformation, welcoming it, which is something that will change in werewolf fiction in years to
follow. Once werewolves become “popular,” so to speak, one will notice that usually the
werewolf regrets his or her existence, seeing it as a curse. With this remorseful mentality, the
werewolf then hopes to suppress the animalistic urges to avoid hurting others. These are the
qualities that are needed to mold White Fell into a supernatural figure that Victorian England
welcomes.

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