Lycanthropy has been a symbol of man’s hunger for the wild, a yearning to commune with one’s more primal urges; to embody the feral wolf, rely only on one’s instincts and savor the blood of the kill, free from the bonds of humanity. Of course the transmogrification can last for only a short while (i.e.; during the full moon). Humans must never to a primitive spirit, perpetually regress, but should constantly evolve toward a supreme ethos. Right? Well I guess that may be debatable. In any case, the propensity for Man to howl at the moon is a waning rite and one that, in time, if we are to believe Stephen Marche in his latest novel, The Hunger of the Wolf, may be obliged to wax, if we care to remain a driven and purposeful species.