Keywords: Human-animal hybrids, Monstrous Races, Monstrous Births, Wild Man, Werewolves
Representations of human-animal hybrids and the concept of shape-shifting in both literary sources and the visual arts captured the early modern European imagination. This is particularly evident in the prevalence of pictorial prints featuring these creatures dated in the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries that were produced in the regions of the Northern Renaissance around the height of the European witch-hunts and Protestant Reformation. They were partly connected to the Renaissance reverence for antiquity and the return to the Classical past via the transformative narratives of hybrid gods and goddesses. Such as this Satyr Family by Albrecht Dürer who recalls the God Pan with the legs and a horn of a goat. Northern Renaissance religious art depicting scenes from Hell or the Last Judgment and temptation of St. Anthony also typically featured monstrous hybrid demons.
Prints of hybrid creatures not only appear to have been related to local early Germanic folklore, but also appealed to the consciousness of the general public as the images became co-opted into contemporary popular visual culture and varied media. Prominent German Renaissance artists such as Albrecht Dürer and Lucas Cranach the Elder, produced numerous prints depicting various half-human, half-animal creatures that inspired similar imagery from other artists.[i] Woodcuts and etchings became a common mode for representations of human-animal hybrids to be distributed to and therefore reached larger segments of the population because they were also comparatively cheap to produce and allowed for greater creativity in a medium that was cheaper without the requirement of a patron.[ii] It is partly for this reason that so many surviving prints of hybrid creatures were produced in Renaissance Germany. Images were distributed as collector’s items as single-sheet prints, which often featured mythological stories targeted at the educated connoisseur, broadsheets with instructional text, as well as used as book illustrations. Many of the prints featuring monsters that were used as book or pamphlet illustrations were authored by people who held respected positions within society. They were university educated, physicians, or clergymen – giving weight to their stories of the monstrous and their accompanying images. Their works also cited ancient authority such as Roman Historian, Pliny the Elder to further attest to their authenticity.
The Renaissance age of exploration and discovery helped to fuel beliefs in exotic monstrous races. They were believed to inhabit lands such as India and Ethiopia, thought to lie in the same region.[iii] The monstrous races were later claimed to have lived on the islands of the Pacific Ocean in the Middle Ages by explorers Marco Polo and John Mandeville.[iv] However, as exploration grew during the early modern period, the existence of these mysterious creatures were pushed to lesser known corners of the world including the Americas.[v] Despite no empirical evidence of their existence, coupled with exploration of the East, the myth of monstrous races lived on. John Block Friedman in his study of monstrous races noted that there was a need to believe in the monstrous races, which included such factors as ‘fantasy, escapism, delight in the exercise of imagination, and…fear of the unknown’.[vi]
Depictions of monstrous races broadly included representations of dog-headed people called cynocephali, the centaur who were half man and half horse, while others have a long neck like a crane and a beak for a mouth.[vii] The monstrous races also included the Blemmyae who have no heads but faces in their torso.[viii] The Cyclopes with one eye in the middle of their forehead and others with four eyes. Hermaphrodites – not how we have come to know them – are completely physically male on one side and female on the other. A race with mouths so small that they can only drink out of a straw and cannot eat but survive from smelling fruits and flowers. Others have no tongues and only communicate in winks. Other races have lips so large they can cover their entire face or ears that they can cover their entire body. There were also the Hippopodes with hooved feet and the Sciopod with one large foot that they used as shelter against the sun.[ix]
Peter Burke has argued that the monstrous races were formulated from stereotyped perceptions of people from Asia, Africa and later in the Americas.[x] Similarities can be drawn from the Renaissance conception of monstrous races to the practice of non-European forms of body modification practiced in places like Africa, which can still be seen today. The use of disks to expand and modify the shape of the mouth or ears may have served for the inspiration for different races believed to have large lips or ears.[xi] A condition called ‘lobster-claw syndrome’ – the result of a single mutated gene, has afflicted people in the Zambesi valley who develop two large toes, which could appear to look like hooved feet.[xii] Depictions of monstrous races could also be inspired by artists’ interpretations of descriptions of people that they have never seen, such as describing people with high shoulders so that it appears that their heads are in their chest could have been taken quite literally. This is possibly the source of the representation of the ancient legendary creatures that made up the tribe of the Blemmyae who has no heads but faces in their torso.[xiii] Baboons or anthropoid apes could have been mistaken for the dog-headed race, the cynocephali. Thus, the monstrous races could further be explained by an error in perception by the early explorers.[xiv]
Konrad von Megenberg described the monstrous races in his last chapter of the first encyclopaedia of natural history in German, entitled ‘The Book of Nature’, which was originally published in the fourteenth century.[xv] The monstrous figures depicted in this text were fashioned in an objective ‘scientific’ way for an audience to more easily read the monstrosities as factual over mythological or allegory and would have provided more authority over the more popular wonder books. Locating the races in India, their descriptions are largely derivative from Pliny. The text was divided into eight books covering topics such as human beings, astrology, animals, plant life, gems and metals. A fifteenth-century printed publication of the text by Johann Balmer in Augsburg includes hand-coloured woodcuts. The final chapter on ‘wondrous springs and strange humans’, includes a woodcut of monstrous races depicted with the fountain of youth.[xvi] The connection between monstrous races and longevity dates back to antiquity and were thought to live between 150 to 200 years.[xvii] Although, partly due to physiological analysis of their peculiar yet also humanoid physique, all the monstrous races are depicted nude while the woman drinking from the fountain of youth is clothed. Their contrasting nakedness emphasises their separation from the Christian, civilised world – a sign of wildness and bestiality.[xviii]
The sixteenth century marked the shift from an interest in marginal figures such as the monstrous races in distant lands, to the monstrous births more closely located to home in Europe.[xix] This was partly the result of increased scepticism of monstrous races as the corners of the world where monsters were thought to roam were being explored.[xx] This new focus was also due to the growing interest in personal experience where monstrous births appear to be ‘verified and documented’ in broadsheets and pamphlets, which provided evidence of God’s work.[xxi] It was prints in the late fifteenth and sixteenth century that were sold as the ‘purveyors of unmediated representations of nature.’[xxii] Pamphlets of wonders were often labelled with the adjective ‘true’ and ‘truthful’.[xxiii] Furthermore, parents of their deformed infants sometimes placed them on display for the price of admission. Printed accounts of these displays were frequent during late Reformation Germany.[xxiv] Local officials and nobles also came to witness and record the monstrous births, which added to the veracity of their recorded accounts and held witness to their artistic rendering.[xxv]
Historically, monstrous births have referred to babies born with significant abnormalities, including conjoined twins. During the Renaissance, they were considered warnings against sin towards the collective as well as the individual as a sign of God’s wrath and as a result were commonly considered bad omens.[xxvi] The etymology of the word ‘monster’ is derived from the Latin monere, meaning to warn and were regarded to presage intending calamity.[xxvii] The belief that monstrous births were divine signs dates back to antiquity with the writings by Aristotle and Cicero.[xxviii] ‘Etymology or origins’ by Isidorus, reveals that signs, omens, portents and prodigies were all analogous with one another – to display and predict the future.[xxix] It was the sixteenth century that expressed the increased desire to understand the future in the face of mounting uncertainty.[xxx] This sentiment was expressed in the words of a Belgium medical professor, Cornelius Gemma who in 1575 wrote: ‘it is not necessary to go to the New World to find beings of this sort; most of them and others still more hideous can still be found here and there among us, now that the rules of justice are trampled underfoot, all humanity flouted, and all religion torn to bits.’[xxxi] As this quote suggests, monstrous births were not unique to Germany during the Reformation, however, their reception differed according to the different socio-economic climates of different regions during the period.
Monstrous births during the German Reformation were predominately regarded with repugnance and fear, over pleasure or amusement they may have stirred in other parts of Europe.[xxxii] Its unique reception in Germany was the result of monstrous births being used in the polemic of the Reformation, with both Protestants and Catholics using monstrous births for their own agenda.[xxxiii] For example, an image of a humanoid figure with a long tail with a forked crescent at the end, with and eyes on his stomach is in the style of a devil. This copy of the monstrous birth found its way in a midwife’s handbook. This copy has a wolf and sheep’s head on his chest, a common motif in Protestant propaganda during the German Reformation. It recalls the passage in Matthew 7.15-16 (NIV): ‘Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.’ In this way, representations of monstrous births were by no means marginal figures in the visual culture of early modern Germany.
While tales and images of monstrous births were originally used to call for institutional reform, particularly by the Catholic Church, they were also increasingly used for social reform. Pastors would promote abnormal births to demonstrate the corrupting nature of sin and the power of God over Creation in their sermons.[xxxiv] Some would even place the monstrous birth on display as a warning.[xxxv] Moral reform particularly referred to women.[xxxvi] It would have commonly been understood in Christian thought that birth was a reminder of Eve’s responsibility of Original Sin. As stated in Genesis 3.16 (New International Version): ‘To the woman he said, “I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.’ Therefore, the pain of childbirth for women was punishment and responsibility held for the first woman’s Original Sin. Monstrous births not only referred to Original Sin, but were also the result of the immediate sin it was conceived in. This further illustrated God’s hand in human affairs by allowing the monster to be born as a portent.
An example was illustrated in a chronicle published by Johann Wolf in 1600, entitled ‘Memorable and Recondite Readings.’[xxxvii] A print of a half-human, half-wolf hybrid with a human head and torso and with hairy canine legs and tail was illustrated. The image accompanies a story of a woman in the year 1452, who was allegedly impregnated by a dog that resulted in the hybrid who was sent to the Pope to be exonerated for the sins of the mother.[xxxviii] The text is followed by a description of a meteorite the following year, emphasising the role of the monstrous birth as a portent.
The immediate sin of a monstrous birth could be the result of external forces, but also the internal emotions, beliefs and desires of the woman herself leading to physically imprint their deformation on the unborn child.[xxxix] The Italian natural philosopher, John Baptista Porta provided a literary example of this phenomenon in his publication, Natural Magic, written in 1558. The example retold a story of a woman who birthed a child with hair covering its entire body. Upon searching for an explanation, they found the hairy image of John the Baptist in her chamber. This example highlights that the greatest burden on the resulting monstrous birth lay upon the individual woman and not the man who impregnated her. Martin Luther similarly believed that the emotional state of a woman could be imprinted on her unborn baby. He argued that pregnant women should be protected from their own overactive imagination.[xl]
In another print in Wolf’s text, a standing figure of a boy covered in hair all over his face and body closely resembles the condition of hypertrichosis. It is otherwise known as ‘werewolf syndrome’, where the individual grows excessive hair over their face and body. The child was born of the cousin of Pope Martin the Fourth during the thirteenth century who was described as a baby bear with claws. As a result, the Pope was so ashamed that he ordered all images of bears to be destroyed in his home. The subsequent and following text from the description of the monstrous birth describes several other portents, in particular a large comet seen in the sky as well as the birth of the Antichrist. References to the birth of this baby bear can also be found in the earlier Nuremberg Chronicle. In this source the story of the monstrous birth was preceded by division that led Pope Martin to be run out of Rome by a popular uprising. This story not only preceded the account of the bear boy but also a description of a fish in the form of a lion that was caught, which cried and shouted like a human being. This was said to be a sign of dissension.
The half-human, half-animal hybrid also directly contributed to German Protestant propaganda while representing the Catholic clergy. Immediately after cities adopted Lutherism, local printmakers produced satirical, anti-Catholic broadsheets.[xli] Martin Luther and Philip Melanchthon, for example, published a pamphlet in 1523 with stories of monstrous births and illustrated woodcuts used as a sign of monstrous corruption by the Catholic Church.[xlii] The pamphlet contained two woodcuts of monstrosities representing the Pope and a monk, which were used as evidence that the Day of Judgement was near, as they were understood as illustrations of sin by the Church that could affect and be found in nature itself.[xliii]
The monstrous birth in which the Papal Ass was said to be inspired by was discovered washed up on the banks of the River Tiber in Rome in c.1495-6.[xliv] Lucas Cranach the Elder created the woodcut for the pamphlet after the engraving of the ass by Wenzel von Olmutz.[xlv] Cranach who was a prominent artist in sixteenth-century Germany was also associated with the Lutheran cause. The ass was posed in front of a castle tower with the papal keys on the flag on a prominent position to underscore its role as a portent.[xlvi] To Melanchthon, it represented the ‘Romish Antichrist’.[xlvii] He described the Ass by further interpreting the elephant foot in the place of the ass’s right hand as representative of the forcefulness of the Catholic Church stating ‘like the great heavy elephant it tramples and grinds down everything it comes across’.[xlviii] Melanchthon went on interpreting each part of the ass as possessing symbolic meaning. Lastly, Melanchthon interprets the ass found dead as a sign of the end of the papacy.[xlix]
The pamphlet also featured a deformed calf foetus, which was discovered near Freiberg in Saxony in c.1522-3. An early image of the calf was printed and circulated, which appeared as if it were standing on its hindquarters, providing an appearance of a humanoid-calf figure.[l] It was also born with a cowl-like growth around its neck that resembled the hooded robes monks wore. A tonsure-like mark on its head references where the top of a monk’s head was shaved leaving a ring around the crown.[li] Luther interprets each part of the calf. The calf’s blindness refers to the ignorance of the true nature of God, while the large ears represent the tyranny of confession.[lii] The Monk Calf was given an alternative Catholic interpretation whereby it served as a sign of God’s displeasure with Luther who was a monk himself.[liii]
During the German Renaissance, a range of imagery was also produced on the hairy Wild Man and his companion the wild woman, who were thought to have inhabited the Germanic alpine and forested regions of Europe.[liv] The wild men and women were traditionally believed to possess a cannibalistic thirst for human flesh, particularly those of children. Their legend throughout the Bavarian Alps would have been a formidable threat in controlling small children into behaving and not running off into dark forests with the fear that they would be abducted or cannibalised by them.[lv] The wild man became a symbol of fertility and were described as rapists and kidnappers of respectable ladies.[lvi] The wild woman also possessed the transformative powers to entrap unsuspecting men as seen in the tale of Raue Else (‘Rough Else’).[lvii]
It is then not unsurprising that the image of the Wild Man was also co-opted into the Protestant Reformation in Germany. This engraving of a Wild Man, created in 1545, has the characteristic thick body hair with bare knees from the result of crawling on the ground. Perched on top of his head is the three-tiered crown of the Pope with the last tier a tower of excrement. Beneath his crown are ass ears, which represent folly and dishonesty. The ass’s ears allude to the myth of Apollo who made Midas grow the ears of a donkey to tag him for his dishonesty.[lviii] On his back appears to be a bat with stretched-out wings which is a symbol of the Devil.[lix] The Wild Man further carries his characteristic wooden club, but this one has three cross branches at the end to represent the papal cross. He further holds onto the papal key which is shattered at the end. From his mouth pours a stream of frogs. This appears to reference Revelation 16.13 of the several last plagues. Beneath the wild man’s feet is a river of fire where damned souls can be seen amongst the flames. To his bottom right is a demon wearing a cardinal’s hat while defecating on a papal Bull. The bull reads: ‘Keep clear, God and man, I and the Devil are the lords’.[lx]
Werewolves and Witchcraft
The sixteenth century, particularly in the German territories, saw the most witch trials in Europe during the height of the witch craze.[lxi] The belief in the transformative powers of witchcraft reignited werewolf folklore as evidenced by the numerous publications on witchcraft and demonology, which debated the existence of werewolves and the power of metamorphosis in early modern Europe.[lxii] It was a time that also sparked trials and accusations against witches who were suspected of committing murder while transformed into a wolf across Europe. In the Renaissance period witches were thought to possess the powers of metamorphosis by entering into a pact with the Devil.[lxiii] The resurgence in the belief in werewolves was further due, at least in part, to the return to the vicious and animalistic classical archetype of the werewolf subject to primitive urges, as featured in Ovid’s famous and influential poem Metamorphoses, written between, c.43 B.C.- 18 A.D., from its romanticised rational version in Medieval literature.[lxiv]
The werewolf and belief in transformative powers have specifically held a long history in Germanic culture. This was brought over from Scandinavia where Old Norse literature is filled with stories of shape-shifting transformations of humans as well as shamanistic practices within Scandinavian and Germanic ‘warrior wolf tradition’[lxv], where the wearing of wolf fur and adopting the animalistic ferocity of the wolf was used in battle.[lxvi] Upon the advent of Christianity in Europe, pagan beliefs were subscribed to the cult of the Devil, but continued to exist in folklore and fairy tales that reflected Christian teaching and morality.
The 1591 broadsheet printed by Georg Kress illustrates multiple unfolding scenes of a pact 300 women made with the devil, their transformation into wolves and destruction on the town of Jülich and its citizens, and their subsequent execution. The werewolves are depicted in various states of transformation, including human attire and standing on bipedal legs to illustrate that these are no ordinary wolves. In the bottom left-hand corner are a group of women surrounding a cloaked man with a hint of horns protruding from his head. The man is handing out what appears to be belts, which are likely made from wolf hide, which were believed to be able to aid transformation. This description concurs with the translation of the text on the broadsheet stating that more than 300 women accepted the belts and pledged their obedience to the devil.[lxvii] In a second scene just above, the man looks more devil-like with obvious horns with semi-morphed werewolves with fur belts depicted wrapped around their waists. The surrounding scene illustrates the destruction the women transformed into wolves caused, massacring the villagers. Central to the composition, the women are burned at the stake. The text alleges that the witches confessed to crimes of how they tore their victims to pieces. The broadsheet admittedly served as a warning to women against the evils of sorcery and the inevitable punishment on earth and in the afterlife.[lxviii]
Monsters served as representations of mass cultural fears that pervade and shape societies collectively that can act as a barometer to indicate levels of cultural anxiety.[lxix] Their symbolic nature allowed them to be used to represent ideas regarding morality, religion, and politics.[lxx] They also appear to have served as reflections of the self in terms of signifying individual and collective fears and desires. In Renaissance art, society and culture, monsters were typically represented as half-human, half-animal composites, so that people could safely project their innermost fears on these odd figures.[lxxi] Once ‘transformed,’ they were able to unleash a number of social taboos such as violence, nudity, adultery, and rape. while at the same time allowing humanity to distance itself from its own primitive violent instincts and desires.[lxxii] Psychologist Carl Jung, has also discussed the importance of monsters, which reveal the hidden ‘otherness’ within the self.[lxxiii] Half-human, half animal composites served as a metaphor for the hidden and sometimes uncontrollable animal nature within the human condition.
Modified from Dana Rehn’s guest lecture ‘Representations of Monsters in German Renaissance Prints’, Northern Renaissance Art and Visual Culture at University of Adelaide
[i] Giulia Bartrum, German Renaissance Prints, 1490-1550, London: British Museum Press, 1995, p. 11.
[ii] David Landau and Peter W. Parshall, The Renaissance Print, 1470-1550, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994, p. ii.
[iii] David Gordon White, Myths of the Dog-Man, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991, p. 51.
[iv] Marco Polo, The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian: Concerning the Kingdoms and Marvels of the East (c.1300), trans. ed. Colonel Henry Yule, London: John Murray, 1871, p. 276; John Mandeville, The Book of John Mandeville with Related Texts (c.1357-1371), ed. trans. Iain Macleod Higgins, Indianapolis: Hackett, 2011, p. 121.
[v] John Block Friedman, The Monstrous Races in Medieval Art and Thought, Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1981, p. 1.
[vi] Friedman, 1981, p. 15.
[vii] Hartmann Schedel, Nuremberg Chronicle (1493), folio XII recto, translation from the Latin text provided by Kosta Hadavas, Morse Library, Beloit College, 2003, http://digicoll.library.wisc.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=nur;cc=nur;rgn=div2;view=text;idno=nur.001.0004;node=nur.001.0004%3A4.4, accessed 5 September 2021.
[viii] Peter Burke, ‘Frontiers of the Monstrous: Perceiving National Characters in Early Modern Europe,’ in Laura Lunger Knoppers and Joan B. Landers (eds.), Monstrous Bodies/Political Monstrosities in Early Modern Europe, Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 2004, p. 25.
[ix] Hartmann Schedel, Nuremberg Chronicle (1493), folio XII recto, translation from the Latin text provided by Kosta Hadavas, Morse Library, Beloit College, 2003, http://digicoll.library.wisc.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=nur;cc=nur;rgn=div2;view=text;idno=nur.001.0004;node=nur.001.0004%3A4.4, accessed 5 September 2021.
[x] Burke, 2004, pp. 25-40.
[xi] Anne Clark, Beasts and Bawdy, London: Dent, 1975, p. 74; Friedman, 1981, p. 24.
[xii] Friedman, 1981, p. 24.
[xiii] Burke, 2004, p. 25.
[xiv] Friedman, 1981, p. 24.
[xv] Konrad von Megenberg, Das Buch der Natur, Augsburg: Johann Bälmer, 1475.
[xvi] Jennifer Spinks, Monstrous Births and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Germany, London: Brookfield, Vt: Pickering & Chatto, 2009, pp. 15-16.
[xvii] Cătălin Avramescu, An Intellectual History of Cannibalism, trans. Alistair Ian Blyth, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011, p. 215, note 95. Ctesias of Cnidus, a Greek physician and historian from the 5th century B.C., claimed that the cynocephali lived between 150 to 200 years.
[xviii] Friedman, 1981, pp. 31-32.
[xix] Spinks, 2009, pp. 13-4; Dudley Wilson, Signs and Portents: Monstrous Births from the Middle Ages to the Enlightenment, London: Routledge, 1993, p. 75.
[xx] Margrit Shildrick, Embodying the Monster: Encounters with the Vulnerable Self, London: SAGE, 2002, p.16.
[xxi] Spinks, 2009, pp. 18, 180.
[xxii]Stephanie Leitch, Mapping Ethnography in Early Modern Germany: New Worlds in Print Culture, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, p. 3.
[xxiii] Irene Ewinkel, De monstris: Deutung und Funktion von Wundergeburten auf Flugblättern im Deutschland des 16. Jahrhunderts, Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1995, pp. 7-8.
Philip M. Soergel, ‘The Afterlives of Monstrous Infants in Reformation Germany’, in B. Gordon and P. Marshal (eds.), The Place of the Dead: Dead and Remembrance in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000, p. 296.
[xxv] Soergel, 2000, p. 298.
[xxvi] Wilson, 1993, p. 36.
[xxvii] David D. Gilmore, Monsters: Evil Beings, Mythical Beasts, and all manner of Imaginary Terrors, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003, p. 9.
[xxviii] Julie Crawford, Marvelous Protestantism: Monstrous Births in Post-Reformation England, Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2005, p. 11 note 36.
[xxix] Isidorus, The Etymologies of Isidore of Seville, ed. trans. Stephen A. Barney, W. J. Lewis, J. A. Beach and Oliver Berghof, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006, pp. 243-4.
[xxx] Don Cameron Allen, The Star-Crossed Renaissance: The Quarrel about Astrology and its Influence in England, Durham: Duke University Press, 1941, p. 47.
[xxxi] Cornelius Gemma, De naturae divinis characterismis, seu raris et admirandis spectaculis, causis, indiciis, proprietatibus rerum in partibus singulis universi, 1.6, Antwerp: Christopher Plantin, 1575, pp. 75-6.
[xxxii] R. Po-Chia Hsia, ‘A Time for Monsters: Monstrous Births, Propaganda, and the German Reformation’ in Laura Lunger Knoppers and Joan B. Landers (eds.), Monstrous Bodies/Political Monstrosities in Early Modern Europe, Ithaca, New York: Cornell University, 2004, p. 71. See Katharine Park and Lorraine J. Daston, ‘Unnatural Conceptions: The Study of Monsters in Sixteenth-and Seventeenth-Century France and England’, Past & Present, no. 92, 1981, p. 34.
[xxxiii] Hsia, 2004, pp. 71, 80.
[xxxiv] Soergel, 2000, p. 290; Spinks, 2009, p. 6.
[xxxv] Hsia, 2004, p. 89
[xxxvi] Crawford, 2005, p. vii.
[xxxvii] Johann Wolf, Lectionum memorabilium and reconditarum, Lauingen, 1600.
[xxxviii] Holländer, Eugen, Wunder, Wundergeburt und Wundergestal in einblattdrucken des fünfzehnten bis achtzehenten jahrhunderts, Paderborn, Germany:Salzwasser Verlag, 1921, pp. 308-9.
[xxxix] Crawford, 2005, pp. 18-19.
[xl] Spinks, 2009, pp. 59-60.
[xli] Jeffrey Chipps Smith, Nuremberg: A Renaissance City, 1500-1618, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1983, p. 166.
[xlii] Spinks, 2009, pp. 62-3; Crawford, 2005, p. 27.
[xliii] Spinks, 2009, p. 62; Arnold I. Davidson, ‘The Horror of Monsters’ in James J. Sheehan and Morton Sosna (eds.), The Boundaries of Humanity: Humans, Animals, Machines, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991, pp. 40-41. The pamphlet was entitled: ‘Meaning of Two Gruesome Figures, the Papal Ass of Rome and the Monk Calf of Freiberg found in Meissen’
[xliv] Spinks, 2009, p. 62-3.
[xlv] Spinks, 2009, p. 64.
[xlvi] Spinks, 2009, p. 66.
[xlvii] Katharine Park and Lorraine J. Daston, ‘Unnatural Conceptions: The Study of Monsters in Sixteenth-and Seventeenth-Century France and England’, Past & Present, no. 92, 1981, p. 26.
[xlviii] Spinks, 2009, p. 68.
[xlix] Spinks, 2009, p. 69
[l] Spinks, 2009, pp. 63-4.
[li] Spinks, 2009, p. 64; Norman S. Smith, ‘Portentous Births and the Monstrous Imagination in Renaissance Culture’ in Timothy S. Jones and David A. Sprunger (eds.), Marvels, Monsters and Miracles: Studies in the Medieval and Early Modern Imaginations, Kalamazoo, Michigan: Western Michigan University, 2002, p. 275.
[lii] Spinks, 2009, p. 69.
[liii] Merry Wiesner-Hanks, The Marvelous Hairy Girls: The Gonzales Sisters and their Worlds, New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009, p.17
[liv] Spinks, 2009, p. 18; Timothy Husband, The Wild Man: Medieval Myth and Symbolism, exh. cat., New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1980, p. 2.
[lv] Husband, 1980, p. 5.
[lvi] Richard Bernheimer, Wild Men in the Middle Ages: A Study in Art, Sentiment, and Demonology, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1952, p. 125. See for example Albrecht Dürer, The Abduction of Proserpine on a Unicorn, (1526, etching on paper, 30.9 x 21.3cm, Adelaide, Art Gallery of South Australia) illustrated in Walter L. Strauss (ed.), The Complete Engravings, Etchings and Drypoints of Albrecht Dürer, New York: Dover Publications, 1972, p. 179.
[lvii] Husband, 1980, p. 62; Wiesner-Hanks, 2009, p. 42.
[lviii] Hélène A. Guerber, The Myths of Greece and Rome, New York: Cosimo, Inc., 2007, p. 57.
[lix] George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1959, p. 24.
[lx] Robert W. Scribner, For the Sake of Simple Folk: Popular Propaganda for the German Reformation, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981, p. 135.
[lxi] Hans Peter Broedel, The Malleus Maleficarum and the Construction of Witchcraft, Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004, p. 8; Sigrid Brauner, Fearless Wives and Frightened Shrews: The Construction of the Witch in Early Modern Germany, University of Massachusetts Press, 2001, p. 5.
[lxii] Jane P. Davidson, Early Modern Supernatural: The Dark Side of European Culture, 1400-1700, Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2012, pp. 158-60.
[lxiii] Davidson, H.R. Ellis, ‘Shape-Changing in the Old Norse Sagas’, in Charlotte F. Otten (ed.), A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture, Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1986, p. 149; Jane Davidson, Early Modern Supernatural: The Dark Side of European Culture, 1400-1700, Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2012, pp. 159-60.
[lxiv] Brent Stypczynski, ‘Evolution of the Werewolf Archetype from Ovid to J.K. Rowling’, Ph.D., Kent State University, 2008, pp. 6, 14.
[lxv] Loki’s son, Narfi, was turned into a wolf in the Old Norse poem ‘Loki’s Quarrel’. Carolyne Larrington (ed.), The Poetic Edda: A New Translation by Carolyne Larrington, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999, p. 95.
[lxvi] Laura Ward and Will Steeds, Demons: Visions of Evil in Art, London: Carlton, 2007, p. 119; H.R. Ellis Davidson, ‘Shape-Changing in the Old Norse Sagas’, in Charlotte F. Otten (ed.), A Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture, Syracuse, N.Y.: Syracuse University Press, 1986, p. 149; Michael Cheilik, ‘The Werewolf’, in Malcolm South (ed.), Mythical and Fabulous Creatures: A Source Book and Research Guide, New York: Greenwood Press, 1987, p. 269.
[lxvii] Charles Zika, The Appearance of Witchcraft: Print and Visual Culture in Sixteenth-Century Europe, London: Routledge, 2007, p.185.
[lxviii] Translation by Vera Möller is published in Jazmia Cininas, ‘The Girlie Werewolf Hall of Fame: Historical and Contemporary Figurations of the Female Lycanthrope’, PhD, RMIT, 2013, pp. 429-33.
[lxix] See for example Jeffrey Jerome Cohen, ‘Monster Culture (Seven Theses)’ in Jeffrey Jerome Cohen (ed.), Monster Theory: Reading Culture, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996, pp. 3-26; Asa Simon Mittman, ‘Introduction: The Impact of Monsters and Monster Studies’ in Asa Simon Mittman and Peter Dendle (eds.), The Ashgate Research Companion to Monsters and the Monstrous, Surrey: Ashgate Publishing, 2012, pp. 1-17; Christina Santos and Adriana Spahr, ‘Introduction’ in Christina Santos and Adriana Spahr (eds.), Monstrous Deviations in Literature and the Arts, Oxford: Inter-Disciplinary Press, 2011.
[lxx] Spinks, 2009, p. 3.
[lxxi] Gilmore, 2003, p. 1.
[lxxii] Stypczynski, 2008, p. 14.
[lxxiii] Christopher Dell, Monsters: A Bestiary of the Bizarre, London: Thomas & Hudson, 2010, p.10.