The boundary between light and darkness, or day and night, symbolizes the ambiguous, unknowable line between the social and natural categories that make up Van Cheele’s world. Van Cheele’s routines are precisely structured around the day, as he enjoys his morning cigarette and his afternoon walk, among other pleasures. At night, a civilized person is expected to be safely at home, leading to Van Cheele’s great surprise when Gabriel-Ernest tells him that he not only lives in the woods, but hunts in them at night, “on four feet.” Van Cheele assumes at first that Gabriel-Ernest is working with “some clever poacher dog,” showing how he associates nighttime with illicit activities like poaching.
While this assumption is incorrect, Van Cheele’s suspicions are not unfounded. He learns from Cunningham that at sunset Gabriel-Ernest becomes a werewolf, shedding his form as a wild, naked boy and instead assuming that of “a large wolf, blackish in colour, with gleaming fangs and cruel, yellow eyes.” Like the nighttime during which he hunts, the dark color of the wolf is inscrutable, further emphasizing the mysteriousness of his appearance. The fear that this transition into darkness inspires in Van Cheele is, ironically, made even stronger by the beauty of the sunsets immediately preceding it. When Cunningham sees Gabriel-Ernest, he is watching “the dying glow of the sunset,” and assumes that Gabriel-Ernest is doing the same. Likewise, Miss Van Cheele comments on the beauty of the sunset to Van Cheele, unaware that it signals not only the coming night, but Gabriel-Ernest’s transformation into the form of a wolf.
Light and Darkness Quotes in Gabriel-Ernest
‘You can’t live in these woods,’ said Van Cheele.
‘They are very nice woods,’ said the boy, with a touch of patronage in his voice.
‘But where do you sleep at night?’
‘I don’t sleep at night; that’s my busiest time.’
Van Cheele began to have an irritated feeling that he was grappling with a problem that was eluding him.
‘What do you feed on?’ he asked.
‘Flesh,’ said the boy, and he pronounced the word with slow relish, as though he were tasting it.
‘Flesh! What flesh?’
‘Since it interests you, rabbits, wild-fowl, hares, poultry, lambs in their season, children when I can get any; they’re usually too well locked in at night, when I do most of my hunting. It’s quite two months since I tasted child-flesh.’
‘Suddenly I became aware of a naked boy, a bather from some neighbouring pool, I took him to be, who was standing out on the bare hillside also watching the sunset. His pose was so suggestive of some wild faun of Pagan myth that I instantly wanted to engage him as a model, and in another moment I think I should have hailed him. But just then the sun dipped out of view, and all the orange and pink slid out of the landscape, leaving it cold and grey. And at the same moment an astounding thing happened – the boy vanished too!’
‘What! vanished away into nothing?’ asked Van Cheele excitedly.
‘No; that is the dreadful part of it,’ answered the artist; ‘on the open hillside where the boy had been standing a second ago, stood a large wolf, blackish in colour, with gleaming fangs and cruel, yellow eyes.’