The Werewolf of Paris

by Guy Endore

Genres: Mystery; Horror; Horror

Synopsis

Endore's classic werewolf novel - now back in print for the first time in over forty years - helped define a genre and set a new standard in horror fiction. The werewolf is one of the great iconic figures of horror in folklore, legend, film, and literature. And connoisseurs of horror fiction know that The Werewolf of Paris is a cornerstone work, a masterpiece of the genre that deservedly ranks with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, Bram Stoker's Dracula, and Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Endore's classic novel has not only withstood the test of time since it was first published in 1933, but it boldly used and portrayed elements of sexual compulsion in ways that had never been seen before, at least not in horror literature.

In this gripping work of historical fiction, Endore's werewolf, an outcast named Bertrand Caillet, travels across pre-Revolutionary France seeking to calm the beast within. Stunning in its sexual frankness and eerie, fog-enshrouded visions, this audiobook was decidedly influential for the generations of horror and science fiction authors who came afterward.

 

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Release date: November 15, 2021

Publisher: Audible Studios

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Inasmuch as Aymar Galliez begins his script with the tale of Pitaval and Pitamont, I shall do the same, allowing myself, however, the privilege of elaborating his often too bald treatment. The incident herein noted would seem at first glance to have nothing to do with the case. Neither does digging a well below a house seem to have anything to do with the typhoid that carries away one victim after another. The sources of moral diseases, too, often lie far back in the past.

Pitaval and Pitamont, * [In Celtic pit means point or peak. Pitaval and Pitamont might be rendered as Peak Downstream and Peak Upstream or Peak in the vale and Peak on the mount.] then, are two castles in France, which lie on opposite sides of a little streamlet, called le Pit. I am aware, of course, that the Joanne Gazetteer contains no mention of a Pit of any kind. The fact is that the two castles, of which hardly a vestige remains, now look at each other across a dry valley. When lumbering removed the topsoil of these hills, the river dried up. But its course can still be traced by a trail of rocks winding upwards. Local archeologists, if there are any in that mountainous and infertile region twenty−five miles west and south of Grenoble, will resolve the disappearance of these place names.

If the traveler today can see little if anything in this region, one visitor certainly saw plenty. I refer to Viollet−le−Duc, who went into ecstasy at this spot and drew complete plans and an imaginary reconstruction. This, if I am not mistaken, the reader may find under the discussion of "barbette." There is a reference too under the subject of "latrine." It will be recalled that Viollet−le−Duc was always keen on any vestiges of medieval sanitary engineering. Possibly there was more to see in his day.

As far back as history can recall, the castles of Pitaval and Pitamont, though the families were offshoots of one original house, were at constant war with each other. In the early days the two houses had divided between them an extensive and fertile territory. The hillsides yielded a superior wine. The forests fattened pigs, produced charcoal and chestnuts. The peasantry was hardy and cheerful and paid its taxes to lord and priest generously and usually peacefully.

But the constant warfare between the two houses eventually proved too much for the local peasantry, though surely there is nothing in history to equal the permanent patience of the sorely tried poor. They abandoned their farms and moved on.

There was still free land in Europe at that time, so why stay where life was insecure? As the estates began to yield less and less, the Pitavals and the Pitamonts, pressed for money to carry on their feud, began to make trips down hill to the city of Grenoble, where there was a Datini factor, or even to Avignon, where the great banking firm of the Datinis had its head office.

Bit by bit, they mortgaged what they had. The interest piled up. Once in a while the Pitavals would rob the Pitamonts and pay up some of what they owed to Datini. Again it was the turn of the Pitamonts to stage a clever coup and find themselves momentarily in cash.

One night, a begging friar, benighted in these mountains, found hospitality in the Pitaval castle. The women, miserably treated among their brutal menfolk, were glad for the appearance of a strange and kindly face.

The venerable monk entertained the ladies with tales of the land of Italy, whence he had just come. "It is all sunshine and warmth, down there," he said, and played meditatively with his long beard. The ladies shivered with yearning. Outside the wind howled. The draft came in under the door and disturbed the rushes on the floor. A dog−−or was it a wolf?−−howled beyond in the forest. They crossed themselves. The monk added a few words of Latin.