The Great Wolf Debate

The Great Wolf Debate

Back in 1972, my foray into art started back in Ms. Bracken's (I used to call her brack-king, so I'm not too certain upon the name) preschool where I had created colorful explosions out of painting numbers (nasty habit I acquired from Sesame Street). Nonetheless, the trouble actually started when we heard about Grimm's Fairy Tales: specifically tales about The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood (ever notice how everything in kids' stories are little) where the wolf was portrayed as the bad guy. Also came the fact these tales never made any coherent sense to begin with.

For example, we know if, say, Yogi Bear, replaced the wolf in Red Riding Hood, he wouldn't attempt on devouring Red, but would conceive an elaborate scheme for procuring the kid's 'Pic-a-nic' basket. Therefore, I had always wondered why the wolf just simply didn't do the same if he was truly starving.

Then consider the third pig. If he was so intelligent, why didn't he offer the wolf a roast, or some other edible substitute for him to try, rather than boil the poor thing in a pot of water?

Ms. Bracken had felt I made some excellent arguments on the subject, and had decided on letting us rewrite our own versions of these tales where the wolf turns out to be the good guy. Thus, the first incarnate of The Great Fangdini was born. However, in these altered stories, the magician wolf was actually a wizard named Chester.

The Tales of Chester
Despite the illustration here, Chester started off as the only pre-Fanger character never to have been drawn. He was an entirely prefabricated, drafted work, where he actually helped shed the truth behind the libelous tales the Grimm Brothers had written. For instance, in Red Riding Hood's case, Chester helps the heroine by foiling a bunch of greedy hyenas from making off with her food basket. Consequently, Chester disguises himself as Red's grandmother, not as a means for devouring the little girl, but in an elaborate scheme educating the hyenas not to steal from others.

In the Three Pigs, Chester contends with a con-artist who sells the Pigs shoddy building materials. Naturally the man plans on swindling them out of their money, but Chester saves the day by tricking the phony contractor with a magically-constructed building. When the man enters the place, the building instantly transforms back into a pumpkin. Chester promises to release the man but only on the condition he make good with the pigs. As a result, the pigs not only get their cash back, but the man ends up helping them construct a proper place of residence.

Although Chester was definitely an innovative approach to the classics, sadly, due to the consensus programming of the originals, the character was never really accepted and quickly faded into obscurity. That is, until about 1982, when Chester was finally illustrated for a Wonderland scene, where he later became one of Fanger's cousins.

Meanwhile back in the Seventies, about two years would pass, 1974, when the Wolf Debate returned, and at an unlikely source: a classic Universal horror film.

The Great Wolf Debate: Myth vs. Reality
Four years into the Seventies, censorship began deteriorating slowly with the local programming. Before all these specific guidelines came out from ACT, the FCC and the usual watchdog groups, there had been only one Universal rule to censoring programs: keep the shows immaculately clean during family viewing hours (later, these hours were denoted as prime time). Simply translated, the local stations could air anything they wanted during the late hours of the night, which is why some kids can recall seeing such items as classic horror, or sex-oriented, films past their appointed bedtime. It was this peculiar set-up which sparked the first Great Wolf Debate.

Back in 1974, my mom was attending Lamar University (the Orange Annex), earning her teaching degree, while my dad worked at West Orange Jr. High (what middle schools were refered to back then), where he taught history and helped out with athletic events. Because of this, my mom would sometimes attend a night course, and my dad would have to attend, a basketball or football game. Consequently, I ended up spending the night at my grandmother's house, where Uncle Joe usually babysat me.

Now unlike my other family babysitters, Uncle Joe would always let me stay up and watch late night television. Automatically, I'd fall asleep halfway through the shows, then wake up early the next morning, so my parents had never realized I had stayed up past my bedtime.

Anyway, one late Friday night, I had ended up watching my first horror movie, The Wolf Man. Since I was different to begin with, I didn't even scream towards this bizarre film. Ironically, the movie had brought back some unnerving, conflicting facts. The werewolf appeared more like a lean Tasmanian Devil to me than any type of wolf I had ever seen. Also came the occurrence the monster lacked any verbal skills like its Toon, or storybook, counterparts. As with all kids presented with confusing evidence, I had proceeded pelting my uncle with an inquiry about the werewolf's unrealistic actions. In other words, why didn't it speak or act like he storybook wolves? At first, he had intended on simply dismissing the interrogation with the basic difference that one was on television, while the others were mere pieces of fiction (like that really clarified things), but he had unwittingly ended up contemplating over the confounding question.

Of course, I had never received any legitimate answer, and my Uncle Joe had acquired a major dose of insomnia that night over my perplexing inquiry. Adding to this mystification, my Ranger Rick magazine had an article about wolves, which completely dispelled any myths and rumors to the assumptions we had made about them being vicious beasts. Nevertheless, the real fire behind the debate ignited in 1976, with my friend Scott.

Scott lived in my other grandparents' neighborhood. Considering himself the resident know-it-all of Orange, Texas, he always took sheer delight in getting the best of me. No matter the topic, he invariably produced an answer I never could counter back. The result would normally transform me into an infuriated Daffy Duck whenever I dared fight back. The debate began when my family had been preparing for our move to Conroe, and I was staying the summer with my grandparents in Orange. To be more precise, the incident occurred when Alec Brown had just received Showtime (back then, the only pay-movie channel) and had invited Scott and me to come over and watch some horror films.

Mysteriously, the first film we had seen was an Agatha Christiesque werewolf movie, The Beast Must Die. The movie sounded like an episode straight from The Addams Family. In this tale, an eccentric millionaire has a fetish for the supernatural, especially where lycanthropy (art of transforming one from human to beast) comes into play. So like all wild sportsman, he invites a bunch of people to his mansion, knowing one of his guests is a werewolf. Whatever the plot had been, I can clearly recall I had made a joking comment that it would be fascinating to be a wolf. Scott immediately berated my suggestion, claiming it was completely asinine, since I'd transform into a mindless, killing machine. Before the typical battle erupted, Alec miraculously came to my defense upon the subject.

One, he informed Scott what one sees in the movies does not authenticate its belief system. Namely, Scott had been going on some inaccurate assumptions, since his beliefs on werewolves were purely based on folklore, rather than hardcore facts. Therefore, Alec had questioned our current knowledge of werewolves, and wolves in general. Due to the atrociously, unjustified film, King Kong, we had been grossly incorrect about the normal gorilla's behavioral patterns. Rather than carry on the debate, Scott just gave me and Alec a disturbing expression before leaving.

Still, The Great Wolf Debate had been resurrected, because due to the Seventies overload, we as humans have developed an incurable habit of mislabeling things at face value. However, what actually had fueled the next creation in Fangarian evolution was Scott taunting me for believing in such wild ideas. Little did he suspect he'd be eating his words when I had spawned my second creation..