The setting for this novel appears to be a remote part of France in the early twentieth century - certainly there are trains and cars. Gas lamps, an invention of the previous century are much in evidence, but this is not surprising in the countryside where electrical supplies would have appeared later. Christian is a talented pianist but seems eaten up with ennui and a preoccupation with his own, presumed imminent, demise - as he has been exhibiting symptoms which point to tuberculosis. He has come to live out his remaining months at an old chateau which had been in the family for centuries, then sold by his grandfather to pay off debts - but with a clause which allowed it to revert to his grandson Christian if the buyer died without issue. As the buyer's children were lost in a boating accident and he drank himself to death, the house now belongs to Christian, who does not want it. He has only come to such a remote place to escape emotional ties in 'the city', including those with a female relative with whom he became entangled.

Christian treats the servants like dirt and is by turns petulant and slothful. He picks up on references to a local family who are shunned by the community, and eventually goes looking for them, trying to work out if theirs are the dogs which have followed him and come to the chateau. But of course - as the title discloses - these are not dogs but his werewolf neighbours, with whom he becomes embroiled. Unfortunately, local supersition will not permit this to continue.

As ever with Lee, the writing is lush at times and vivid and yet ... I didn't find much sympathy for any of the characters, and especially not the protagonist who was a right royal pain. I did feel a bit sorry for the chauffeur, but that was about it. The main character is a grown up spoiled brat essentially. But the standard of the writing brings the overall rating up to 3 stars. ( )

I must admit to a deep affection for Gothic Romances, cheesiness and all. ‘Lycanthia’ is decidedly the best entry into that field I’ve encountered, with the twists that one expects from Tanith Lee elevating the book past all the clichés of the genre.

Here, in a 19th-century French (?) setting, the hapless (?) protagonist is a young man, Christian Dorse. Finding himself the unexpected heir to an ancestral manor house, he betakes himself to languish in his new property. Languishing is what he aims for – Christian believes himself to be an invalid (although it’s not quite clear if he is), and is a self-centered, not very likable individual. All he wants to do is to be left alone, to play the piano, and to feel sorry for himself.

However, his house, with its strange servants, the insular village nearby, and – most of all – the neighboring woods, seem to harbor sinister secrets. It’s not clear if Christian’s destiny is to fulfill a traditional role in a way of life he has never known, or if he will be shunned as an outsider.

He meets a strange couple, outcast from the village, and seemingly helpless to resist, falls into a web of supernatural depravity (or is it natural, beautiful love?). Christian is spurred to become more than he was – to re-examine what in life is truly meaningful. But will he succeed in breaking from the mold he has created for himself?

Lycanthia is a genre novel, a werewolf story – and also a beautiful, challenging and thought-provoking work.
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Sadly, Tanith Lee very early on discovered the market that would most reliable provide a buck. This is one of her "I need the money books, and so, Not for me. The title says it all, and I'm sorry she wasn't able to cash in on the "Twilight" craze. ( )

It was interesting to see that this novel started off with a lone person being dropped off at a train station in the middle of winter woods, it seems to be a good shorthand for isolation. Christian is going to his newly inherited chateau to finish dying, probably from lung cancer. The village people and servants refuse to discuss a pair who might have a claim on the estate, and large dogs have been spotted wandering the grounds and killing small animals. By the time he confronts the pair, we're fairly ready to believe almost anything of them. The time he spends getting to know them is a languid interlude, and the resolution is interesting. ( )

"Lycanthia" was a nice surprise to me, as I actually think that it's one of the better of Lee's books. The prose is, as always, lush, without becoming too purple, the setting seems to live and breathe, the plot is tight and rises to a taut climax, the characterisations are satisfying, and the sensuality that always infuses her stories is present but not allowed to overpower the narrative. ( )