It’s easy to see why werewolves might feel under-celebrated these days. While vampires and zombies have stormed the multiplexes and best-seller lists, and Dr. Frankenstein’s monster has completed its cultural infiltration by transforming into the ubiquitous in- formation appliances of daily life (if my smartphone doesn’t count as artificial life run amok I don’t know what does), werewolves have been largely left to idle at the side of the literary road. Where are these Freudian howlers of the night? theirs has been rather a raw deal.
No longer. For now we have Jake Marlowe — the centerpiece of Glen Duncan’s playfully brainy new novel, “the Last Werewolf” — a 200-year-old, Kant- reading, chain-smoking aesthete whom one could easily imagine curling up with a bottle of single-malt scotch and a copy of the New York Review of Books. He is prone to mordant observation, as in: “the point of civilization is so that one can check in to a quality hotel.”
He also happens to eat people, one for every full moon.
And another from Ron Charles at the Washington Post highlighting some of the brilliant one-liners in this one:
Well, prepare to have your monster world turned upside down. The British writer Glen Duncan has finally driven a stake through vampire supremacy. And it works because he gives his werewolf narrator a voice with teeth. Cerebral and campy, philosophical and ironic, “The Last Werewolf” is a novel that’s always licking its bloody lips and winking at us.
OK, so here’s what you have to do for a chance to win a signed copy of THE LAST WEREWOLF: (I’m keeping the other one for myself.)
Think of an unexplored type of mythological/paranormal/fabled being and the author you would want to see write from that perspective, then give me a book title and the author name in the comments below. (Examples: The Lecherous Leprechaun by Phillip Roth or Lonely Centaur by Joan Didion) I’ll choose my favorite, and he or she wins a signed book!