"Searchers after myth haunt strange far places. They climb to the zenith of the sky in the sun-god's chariot; they descend to the depths of the sea to marvel at pearls the size of houses. They visit islands swarming with prehistoric beasts, or with beasts that walk like men. The shadows of the minarets of Araby conceal for them a thousand treasures. Yet for the true epicure of the mythopoeic, there is no better breeding-ground for the combinatory power of archetypal phantasms than the pages of the humble comic book."-- Happily Phony Lovecraft.
Just like last year I'm only managing to get one horror-story myth-analyzed this month of Halloween. But IMO this one's a doozy. This forgotten gem from Nedor Publishing has no credited writer, so as I've done in the past, I will impute for simplicity's sake full authorship to the credited artist, Jack Katz, later famous for a multi-issue fantasy I've not yet read, name of THE FIRST KINGDOM. After reading this short horror tale, maybe I'll give his fantasy-domain a closer look.
Katz starts off MADNESS with a bang and barely slows up thereafter. Protagonist Emil Jankow, identified in the opening caption as belonging to the class of "vagrants and hobos," is attacked by a mad dog belonging to a "witch-like creature named Agnes." As Emil faints from his wounds, Agnes uses a pistol to kill the dog, sparing Emil's life. The reader alone hears Agnes ruminate that she won't tell the hobo that her dog was rabid, though in due time it will become apparent that the pooch didn't have garden-variety rabies. Aside from naming her watchdog after the Prince of Darkness and having some allegedly "magic" salves on hand, Agnes doesn't seem especially witchy until she warns the recovered Emil to "stay out of the light of the new moon." That Katz departs from the usual werewolf trope re: the full moon shows that the artist was playing fast and loose with lycanthropic mythology.
The next departure is that Emil's wounds from the dog don't heal in the approved Larry Talbot fashion but instead give him a sort of "Phantom of the Opera" disfigurement. This development makes panhandling a little easier, and so does the very non-rabies effect of his injuries: that all dogs become Emil's friends. This also sets him on a fatal course when he runs across wealthy girl June and her dog Duke, and he instantly charms the bite out of the former member of the K-9 corps. (June doesn't quite say that Duke suffered PTSD because his experiences in the war, but it's a fair extrapolation.) June perhaps tosses out too much information when she goes on about how a local named Kirk Lamarr has been June's personal dog-hating Mrs. Gulch. But it's info the reader needs to know, just like learning that, within a week, Emil falls in love with June and resents her boyfriend Jim.
Now the experienced horror-reader will expect poor Emil-- who at this point has done nothing bad, only had bad thoughts-- will have an unhappy encounter of the lunar kind. And the transformation of the lycanthropic (caninthropic?) victim is marked by an accidental killing before beginning his own killing spree. But the victim's victim is not of another shape-changer as in THE WOLF MAN, but by a member of the canine species that seemed to recognize Emil as a "big dog" of the pack. Emil accidentally shoots Duke dead, and he decides to conceal the dog's death to avoid blowback. (Katz was careful to show that Duke was not June's only dog, so the K-9's passing doesn't mean Emil would have been terminated.) However, Emil then transforms into a were-creature and immediately pounces on the first "smooth white throat" he comes across. But is he transformed by the moon, or by committing a sin against dog-kind?
Even though Emil wasn't bitten by a wolf (except in the general sense of dogs having evolved from wolves), he thinks of himself as a lycanthrope once he's returned to his human (albeit disfigured) form. Emil learns that that local pain Kirk Lamarr believes that Duke killed Emil's victim, and Emil's attempt to cover up his killing of the dog implicates the dead canine in Emil's crimes of the next few days. (It's interesting that June refers to Duke as a "watchdog," the same term Agnes used for her rabid pooch Satan.) The aggrieved dog-trainer seeks to quell his animal rage by chaining himself in his quarters and tossing away the key. I guess he didn't toss it far enough, because June finds it and unlocks his chains, which practically begs Emil to unleash his demon and attack both June and Jim.
Improbably, Jim is able to drive off Emil with a mere club. Maybe it works because Emil didn't really want to kill either Jim or June? The couple can't convince dog-hater Lamarr that they witnessed a werewolf, though strangely, within the course of one day, some unnamed professor is able to talk the rest of the town into crediting the reality of werewolves. Said prof even convinces the polity that they don't need silver bullets, just ordinary torches, to kill a werewolf. Did Katz have a thing for all the cinematic scenes where Frankenstein's Monster got repelled by torches? Emil's near the end of his run now, because he didn't transform back this time. He decides to seek another victim in the unguarded town.
And who's one of the few people who didn't join the posse, because he didn't believe in werewolves? Why, it's skeptical smarty-pants Lamarr, though strangely he's not home when Emil invades his house, forcing the were-dog to cool his heels a bit. I assume Katz did this so that Lamarr would arrive at his house just as the posse just happened to return to town. It's surprising that Katz spared the dog-hater's life-- certainly no one who read the story then or now would cared if Lamarr had died. Indeed, killing the enemy of the woman Emil still loved would have given the doomed man one last, slightly altruistic deed before dying. But Jim bursts in and destroys the monster with nothing but a thrown torch. In death Emil not only does not look burned by the torch, his "rabies" disfigurement goes away too. I note in closing that Katz does keep drawing the moon in the sky, though technically a new moon should only last about three days, and it sounds like Emil was "wolfing out" longer than that. But I don't think Katz really cared about the moon-schtick popularized by Universal movies. I think he had a genuinely original take on lycanthropy, portraying it as a curse activated less because of the lunar satellite than because of the cursed man's sublimated failings and/or hostilities. And while MADNESS is not a masterpiece like THE WOLF MAN, Katz's tale seems to be playing with some of the same mythic concepts.







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