Empire of Wild

Against the backdrop of the fire, the conflict comes to a climax as Joan comes close to reminding Victor who he is and then engages in a final showdown with Heiser. Joan’s plan of seducing Victor seems to be paying off, and she believes that she can “kiss his beautiful mouth until his lips bled. She would remind him who he really was” (265). However, Heiser cruelly taunts Joan, finally revealing that Victor was the one who killed her grandmother; when he does so, “he had found her softest spot, her rawest wound” (271). Joan’s quest to find Victor has been animated by her belief that he is still the man that she loves, and she has had to confront increasingly damning information about him. First, Joan learns that Victor is manipulating Indigenous communities by preaching insidious lies; then, she learns that he is a rogarou. Finally, Joan has to confront the horrible truth that Victor was responsible for Mere’s gruesome death.

However, Joan’s rage is what finally allows her to take the action that she has been hesitant to take: cutting into Victor’s flesh and “cutting him deep and red like a zipper unzipped” (273). Knowing the full truth of what Victor has done is what allows her to lash out at him, and only through that action can Victor be saved. Symbolically, Joan has to know the full truth about Victor and see him for what he has done before she can process her anger and finally come back together with him.

While Joan is learning new information about Victor, she also learns more about Heiser. Joan has mistakenly believed that Heiser is a rogarou for almost the entire plot, but he finally reveals what he actually is: a Wolfsegner. A Wolfsegner (sometimes spelled Wolfssegen) is a figure from German folklore who possesses a mythical ability to charm wolves; this power could be used to target wolves toward the flocks of enemies. During the 1600s, a number of men were put on trial for charming wolves, accused of practicing witchcraft, being werewolves, or both. A man named Thomas Heiser was put on trial and tortured in the 1600s on accusations of being a Wolfsegner, and this historical figure seems to be a clear inspiration for Dimaline’s character.

Interestingly, Wolfsegners were persecuted by the Christian church and the normative social establishment as a result of being feared for being different. As Heiser tells Joan, “[L]ike your own people, Joan, we were persecuted for what we were” (278). The detail of the Wolfsegner legend reveals that all cultures, European and Indigenous alike, have mythology, stories, and magic. However, Heiser chose to attempt to manipulate and harness supernatural power for his own good, rather than respecting it and showing reverence. In the end, he is unable to maintain his control over Victor’s rogarou, and Robe will eventually reflect that “[Heiser] should know better than to play with magic that doesn’t belong to him” (284). While many cultures have mythology around wolves, Heiser takes an arrogant and culturally imperialistic approach by assuming that all sorts of wolves should rightfully answer to him.

The circumstances surrounding Victor’s escape and return to his true identity are not exactly clear. Joan cutting and stabbing him seems to precipitate some sort of transformation; in the parallel narrative, Victor is finally bitten by the rogarou, which seems like it should be his demise but actually seems to set him free. In that narrative, Victor describes feeling the rogarou’s teeth “popp[ing] through his skin like a blade” (280). This simile hints that Joan stabbing him, and the rogarou biting him, occur on a continuum and work to set him free. The vulnerability that comes with the wounding of his physical body liberates Victor: He “was glad that he could feel, if only to know this terrible rending” (281). Along with the wounds, Joan’s tears also seem to somehow facilitate his transformation. He can hear her crying, and it calls him back to being with her.

After Victor has come back to himself, Joan and Victor talk with Robe, and this conversation adds significant complexity to the figure of the rogarou. Robe openly mocks Joan’s suggestion that she can help him, and his reaction hints that Joan’s quest may have been partially arrogance all along. Her consistent love for Victor helped him, but she could not ultimately control his transformation until the right time came. Robe also reveals that he (the rogarou) took over the body of a man who raped a young girl and darkly comments that “he don’t need anyone’s help anymore” (286). Depending on why someone becomes a rogarou, some people can be saved and some cannot. Throughout the conversation, Robe is presented less as a sinister monster and more as a trickster figure. He has a light and playful energy and seems bemused by the idea that humans think they can control or influence him. Especially without Heiser’s corrupting influence, the rogarou has a role to play and does not necessarily need to be vanquished.

The plot has an unusual structure wherein there is a brief triumph after the climax, rapidly followed by another crisis. When Joan and Victor get back to the motel, the atmosphere is sinister and foreboding. The presence of two crows (often referred to with the collective noun “murder”) symbolizes that something malevolent has happened, and the presence of the Bible outside the motel room door adds further symbolism by alluding once again to the Damaging Effects of Religious Indoctrination. Zeus’s disappearance, and the return of the Bible, symbolize how Indigenous people face ongoing colonialism, racism, and threats to their traditional Identity Through Community and Connection. Joan’s victory is short-lived and incomplete because the work of maintaining a strong Indigenous identity is ongoing: Since Zeus is a young boy, his transformation into a rogarou symbolizes how new generations face the same challenges.

The novel concludes with Joan bravely and stubbornly committing to her quest to save Zeus as readily as she fought to save Victor. Her love and commitment touch Zeus even in the liminal space where he is trapped: “[H]e was bound to her and she was coming. The certainty made him smile, even here” (293). However, the novel ends in an ambiguous and suspenseful way. Ajean is fearful of what might lie ahead for her; she thinks about how “Angelique didn’t die nice. Ajean wanted to pass in peace” (297). The threat of further violence and death is very real, and the reader is left without any reassuring conclusion. They are, however, promised “a damn good fight” (298), in which Joan is never going to give up on her commitment to caring for those she loves and helping them to live as their authentic selves.