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1 Beaverton Literature- A to Z

Darkest Desire: The Wolf's Own Tale

by

Darkest Desire: The Wolf's Own Tale Cover

 

Synopses & Reviews

Publisher Comments:

One

I think of more than children. I have higher thoughts, like anyone else. I wonder who made me, why I am here; I am subject to the usual range of pointless speculation. I am not an utter beast, no matter the lies that are spread against me.

But hush now. What's that twitching in the grass? Do you hear? The rustle of one blade against another, the beating of a tiny heart. Easy, easy. Not a sound! Its whiskers trail in the dirt. Fleas dance on its hide. What sound escapes me, except that of the moonlight's fall on the forest floor? And if I were to apply all my senses, perhaps I could hear that as well.

There again. The thing is up on its haunches, sniffing at the warm air. What perfume! On nights such as these I'm nearly delirious. My snout fills with the scent of pine from the edge of the glade. From further off comes the sharp bouquet of birch. And then from beside the stream rises the odor of sodden rot. Who could dream on such a night that winter ever comes?

Look now, the rodents bald tail sweeps the trail he has trod. Where is the sport if he walks into my mouth? Who is to blame for his pitiful end? Him or me? Is he a victim or is he guilty himself.?

At any rate, it is only a mouse. Somewhere there is a family of sorts, I suppose. But a family of mice. The heavens do not open up in grief when they die. The wood is full of them.

Then again, the wood is full of children. They scamper here and there, off on their little errands. Their colorful cloaks trail behind them. Their tasseled hoods bounce atop their golden heads. What their parents are thinking I cannot imagine. Here, take this jug of wine and loaf of bread to grandmother, they say. Don't dally alongthe way. Ha! Might as well tell a bird not to sing.

Children are made of dalliance. Who knows that better than I? Though we do not speak each other's language, still they seem to understand me. Take a moment to smell the flowers along the path, I suggest. Why dash hither and thither, and never savor the finer things of this life? Believe it or not, I long for them to enjoy the forest as I do. The cool, damp track beneath one's feet, the columns of sunlight that fall through the trees, the solemnity of it all: to say I enjoy it is to trivialize. I am worshipful.

I love children no less. Go ahead, throw this back in my face. Nonetheless it is true. I love them! "Then why do you ... T' I know, I know. Suspend for a moment your disbelief. Try to see things my way. Trust me. I do love them. Their innocence, their trusting nature, their ridiculous questions, their ignorant bravado, the awkward fit of their various parts, the freshness of their breath, their harmless, pearlish teeth, the soft convolutions of their tiny ears, their wide-eyed gaze. Or, to rephrase: What small teeth they have. What small ears they have. What big eyes they have. Too bad for them, the forest being what it is.

What happened to that mouse? He was all but in my mouth just a second ago. Lately I fear I have lost my edge. The bounce is gone from my step. My mind wanders. A thought seizes me and my face is distorted by odd tics and grimaces. I make noises that have no meaning, strange little grunts and groans. I am an outcast. It takes a toll.

My fellows do not understand me. They slaughter a fawn or a rabbit and think themselves superior because their tastes are more limited than mine. They celebratetheir lack of imagination, hold it up as proof of normalcy. Normal: What is that? A narrow cart on an iron rail, dragged past the same scene time and again.

Aha, he's crept into the ferns spread between those birches. How to play it? Wander out after him, or plant myself beside his burrow? The latter, surely. What is the rush on such a night? Let him go about his miserable errands while I rest myself. Yes, yes, just so. My belly and nether parts pressed against the cool grass. The moon shining down upon me. I feel an urge to howl.

It is worse than pointless, I admit, since any living creature within hearing will take to ground and stay there for the remainder of the night. Shakes their bones, I know it does. Makes the hair stand on their napes. And what do I accomplish by it? Worse than nothing. My fellows learn where I am, the better to avoid me. And still I long for a decent howl.

Excuse me. Let me reposition myself I might relax if the moon were not to shine directly in my eyes. There, that's better. Or tolerable, I should say. To howl my lungs out at the top of a hill, surrounded by my brothers, now that would be better. What ejaculatory joy! Filling the world with all that is within oneself, leaving every living creature below quaking at the sound: Unless you've done the same you can't imagine the spine-tingling pleasure.

Synopsis:

Wolf's life in the wood might be happy, except for one problem. He can't control his urge to devour children who stumble across his path. His runaway desires have made him an outcast among his peers. He lives an unhappy, solitary life — until he encounters the Brothers Grimm. Wolf is thrilled to realize that in the presence of these scholars, he can speak. The Grimms take Wolf into their camp, fill him with brandy, and poke at the source of his easily apparent unhappiness. When they learn the truth about Wolf's cravings, they propose a cure.

Now Wolf must make a decision. Can the satisfaction of a "normal" life outweigh the joys of his perversion? Are his desires truly dreanged, or is he simply giving full expression to his personal nature? Does he have an obligation — as his occasional companion Devil argues — to live as a unique individual in the manner to which he was born? Wolf trust his new friends, and agrees to their cure. The brothers construct a complicated and dangerous scenario to discover how Wolf will behave. Is Wolf nothing more than a subject for research? The Grimms no more than conniving reporters?Ultimately, Wolf, Devil, the Brothers Grimm, an outraged Frau, and her endangered babe collide at a pool in the dark wood to settle ancient questions: Can the deepest and most perverse desires ever be overruled? Or more important, should they?

Synopsis:

Wolf's life in the wood might be happy, except for one problem. He can't control his urge to devour children who stumble across his path. His runaway desires have made him an outcast among his peers. He lives an unhappy, solitary life — until he encounters the Brothers Grimm. Wolf is thrilled to realize that in the presence of these scholars, he can speak. The Grimms take Wolf into their camp, fill him with brandy, and poke at the source of his easily apparent unhappiness. When they learn the truth about Wolf's cravings, they propose a cure.

Product Details

ISBN:
9780880016261
Author:
Schmitz, Anthony
Publisher:
Ecco
Location:
Hopewell, N.J. :
Subject:
General
Subject:
Fantasy - General
Subject:
Fairy tales
Subject:
Wolves
Subject:
Adaptations
Subject:
Fairy tales -- Adaptations.
Subject:
General Fiction
Edition Number:
1st ed.
Edition Description:
Hardcover
Publication Date:
19981121
Binding:
Hardback
Grade Level:
General/trade
Language:
English
Illustrations:
Yes
Pages:
134
Dimensions:
7.32x5.38x.55 in. .40 lbs.

Related Subjects

Fiction and Poetry » Literature » A to Z

Darkest Desire: The Wolf's Own Tale Used Hardcover
0 stars - 0 reviews
$5.95 In Stock
Product details 134 pages Ecco - English 9780880016261 Reviews:
"Synopsis" by , Wolf's life in the wood might be happy, except for one problem. He can't control his urge to devour children who stumble across his path. His runaway desires have made him an outcast among his peers. He lives an unhappy, solitary life — until he encounters the Brothers Grimm. Wolf is thrilled to realize that in the presence of these scholars, he can speak. The Grimms take Wolf into their camp, fill him with brandy, and poke at the source of his easily apparent unhappiness. When they learn the truth about Wolf's cravings, they propose a cure.

Now Wolf must make a decision. Can the satisfaction of a "normal" life outweigh the joys of his perversion? Are his desires truly dreanged, or is he simply giving full expression to his personal nature? Does he have an obligation — as his occasional companion Devil argues — to live as a unique individual in the manner to which he was born? Wolf trust his new friends, and agrees to their cure. The brothers construct a complicated and dangerous scenario to discover how Wolf will behave. Is Wolf nothing more than a subject for research? The Grimms no more than conniving reporters?Ultimately, Wolf, Devil, the Brothers Grimm, an outraged Frau, and her endangered babe collide at a pool in the dark wood to settle ancient questions: Can the deepest and most perverse desires ever be overruled? Or more important, should they?

"Synopsis" by , Wolf's life in the wood might be happy, except for one problem. He can't control his urge to devour children who stumble across his path. His runaway desires have made him an outcast among his peers. He lives an unhappy, solitary life — until he encounters the Brothers Grimm. Wolf is thrilled to realize that in the presence of these scholars, he can speak. The Grimms take Wolf into their camp, fill him with brandy, and poke at the source of his easily apparent unhappiness. When they learn the truth about Wolf's cravings, they propose a cure.

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