“Lupine Transformations”: A Review of Werewolf Magick: Authentic Practical Lycanthropy by Denny Sargent

 

(Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 2021). ISBN: 978-0-7387-6445-0

For those who follow my blogs, read my novels, and listen to my podcast, it will come as no surprise that I embraced the opportunity to read and review this book and get to communicate with its talented author. I have been fascinated since I was a boy with all things werewolf and lupine. It of course began with films like The Wolf Man, although, as I got older and embarked on my journey as a writer and spiritual practitioner, I began to explore in increasing depth the history of European werewolves, Viking berserkers, Celtic/Teutonic werewolf lore, Absaroka and Navajo skinwalkers/shapeshifters, and animal totems. I also have a child who, during their teenage years, identified as a therian with a special relationship to the wolf—even wearing a two-foot faux wolf fur tail everywhere they went.

First and foremost, I want you to be aware that Werewolf Magick is a serious work of scholarship and magickal practice. Sargent, who practices what he promotes, has done an impressive amount of study into the history of werewolf lore and mined ancient documents for some of the rituals presented. He created and adapted others. The invocations, often written in easy to remember rhyming couplets, are beautifully rendered, with an energetic, no doubt carefully considered, sibilance and assonance akin to Sanskrit mantra. There is also a touch of humor and that essential mix of prescription and opportunity to improvise that is the mark of a master teacher.

I have worked with nearly all of the rituals Sargent offers and have reaped abundant benefits. I am lucky to have a reasonably secluded outdoor space near a creek that offers me the opportunity to take full advantage of the various steps and practices contained in the werewolf rituals. I also found it helpful to have two decades of practice with visualization, astral travel, and shamanic, ritual, and dream work. I spent two years engaging in sweat lodge on three acres I owned in a holler in West Virginia under the guidance of Lakota holy men and their students. Visualization is a key skill to have in any of these practices, as is a background in the procurement, care, and proper use of ritual items (stones, knives, chalices, bones, fur, and flora) and the creation and maintenance of sacred spaces.

There is not time, space, or necessity here to describe the rituals in detail. Instead, I will give you an overview of the types, their function, and a bit of how I experienced them. First, I want to highlight the fact that Sargent, as a master teacher, scaffolds the exercises beautifully. The exercises and rituals build on one another in not only the sense of bringing certain experiences, ritual items you’ve created, and wolf-aspects you’ve conjured and cultivated with you into later ones; the scaffolding ensures you have the skills and experience to handle increasing complexity while remaining safe and honoring the intentions of the work. As you’ll read in my closing, experienced as I am in many of these practices, I am not yet ready for some of the most advanced rituals in Werewolf Magick.     

Sargent offers a good bit of terminology as part of his carefully crafted wer-riculum. I took quite a few notes, but, in time, the terms became ingrained. The distinctions between invoking and evoking, for instance, are important. He also structures the principles and practices in interlocking triads, such as Wilderness, Wyrd, and Way and Instinct, Intuition, and Insight. He complements and energizes these pillars with three moon phases (full, new, dark) and the goddesses Artemis, Hekate, and Selene. Sargent then brings all of the triads together in the Triskele symbol (one of many runes and images that will comprise your ongoing wer-work). I enjoyed mapping these triads and creating several sigils.

If you find this all of increasing interest, you will just be getting started. Sargent defines the different types of wolf growls and howls, which are a major part of the work. I am using these growls (sometimes silently or softly, other times with all of my considerable actor-trained volume) every day, the way I have long used mantra. Sometimes for energy, sometimes for protection, sometimes to quell anxiety or to increase my focus. After practice, depending on the growl or howl employed and the number of times you use it, there are distinct vibrations, resonances, and buzzing in the head, heart, and lower chakras. Not only do they alter the energy flow in my chakras—these energy shifts echo back to the wer-work previously done.

Knowing the path and tools, you are now ready to unleash your inner wolf. Sargent begins strategically with dream work. Not only will this ground you in the mental–spiritual keys to these principles and practices, the liminal space is a safe environment in which to go exploring. Writing as I do about wolves and werewolves in my fiction, and having always employed dream work to generate and flesh out my literary inspirations, I was very at home at the start, which translated to all of the other exercises and rituals that followed.

Next is shape-shifting, beginning with the Praxis Shifting Rite. This will bring you into proximity with Native American and other practices with which you may be familiar. Facility with imagination and visualization, coupled with being in nature and using the spells and runes provided, generates memorable results.   

Once you are adept at shape-shifting, it is time for Fetch work. Instead of becoming the werewolf, this is about conjuring a wolf entity separate from yourself; a form of astral Double. This, again, is serious work. You’re expected to honor, name, and feed your Fetch. I’ve been doing this for weeks. A Fetch is worthy of a shrine. My Fetch is an arctic wolf. He asked me to call him Fellun. Doing a little research, I learned that Fellun means capability, strength, and a strong personality.  My Fetch work recalled a cautionary tale: that of Dion Fortune, who, in a fit of anger, conjured a vicious tulpa of the Norse wolf Fenrir. Fellun is far from a reckless thought form. I work with Fellun both in ritual and dream work. As Sargent suggests, I have ridden Fellun, and we have run together. I am honoring Fellun by making him the companion of a lead character in my fantasy series, The Ambir Dragon Tales (although a wolf was in the outline 20 years ago, he now has a name, and a distinctive face and personality).  

For those of you worried about doing this work at night, there is a solar ritual, which produces palpable energies. It is one of my favorites. Wer-work is not just for nighttime.    

I mentioned my working with most of the rituals in Werewolf Magick. I intend to practice more with the Shape-Shifting and Fetch rituals before attempting to work with the dead or cast a spell. Each reader/practitioner should work at their own pace and comfort level. I am sure Sargent will agree that contacting/visiting the dead and casting spells takes a high degree of practice and clear intent. I intend to apply my fourteen years of study and fieldwork in communication with the dead when I feel ready to work with those rituals.

If all of this sounds a little overwhelming, it needn’t be. Sargent gives you plenty of guidance along the way, even suggesting substitutions for certain items and practices depending on your level of commitment and opportunity to have a private, outdoor space and the means to procure various ritual items. Many if not most of the rituals and exercises you can do indoors. Again, this is about imagination, visualization, and intent. Although it is worth it to wait for the proper phases of the moon, as suggested in each section, it is not required.

As I was finishing this review, the author kindly sent me a copy of his follow-up book, Werewolf Pack Magick, which I (and Fellun) look forward to working with—and writing about—soon.