Explain the poem 'Instructions to Vampires' by Fleur Adcock.

If you saw a wolverine in the wild, your first instinct would likely be to run. These small but incredibly fierce predators are known to drive bears away from kills. In her poem **"I and Wolverine,"** [Jeni Couzyn](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeni_Couzyn) does something far more terrifying than running: she embraces the beast as a reflection of her own soul. ## The Animal as the Shadow Self While many poets use nature to represent beauty or peace, Couzyn uses the wolverine to explore the **Shadow Self**. This is a concept developed by psychologist [Carl Jung](https://www.simplypsychology.org/carl-jung.html), referring to the unconscious parts of our personality that we hide or deny—our anger, our hunger, and our capacity for violence. The poem functions as an "unmasking." Couzyn suggests that beneath the polite surface of human civilization, there is an ancient, snarling instinct that never truly goes away. She doesn't view this "wolverine" side of herself as evil, but as a necessary, survivalist force. ## Breaking the Boundary of "Otherness" Most nature poetry maintains a distance between the human observer and the animal subject. Couzyn shatters this boundary through visceral, physical language. She describes a shared identity that is almost claustrophobic. > "Wolverine, my brother, my killer / my own heart’s blood." By calling the predator "brother" and "blood," Couzyn challenges the common assumption that humans are separate from the food chain. She suggests that the same "blood-greed" that drives a wolverine to survive in the frozen tundra exists within the human heart. This creates a **productive tension**: we want to believe we are moral and evolved, yet Couzyn forces us to admit we are also biological machines driven by the need to consume and persist. ## The Mechanism of "Total Hunger" The poem focuses intensely on the wolverine’s reputation for gluttony. Its scientific name, *Gulo gulo*, literally means "glutton." Couzyn uses this biological trait as a metaphor for human desire. Whether it is a hunger for power, love, or experience, the poem posits that humans are never truly satisfied. This creates a deeper insight into the human condition: - **Survival vs. Greed:** Where does the "need" to survive end and "greed" begin? - **Honesty in Savagery:** The wolverine is "honest" because it does not pretend to be anything other than a killer. Couzyn implies that humans are often less honest because we hide our predatory nature behind social masks. ## Connections to the Wilderness of the Mind Couzyn’s work often intersects with **ecofeminism**, a framework that explores the parallels between the oppression of nature and the oppression of women. In "I and Wolverine," reclaiming the "beast" is an act of empowerment. For a woman in society, who is often expected to be gentle and yielding, identifying with a creature as fierce as a wolverine is a radical claim to strength and autonomy. By the end of the poem, the wolverine is no longer a monster lurking in the woods; it is the engine of the speaker’s own survival. Couzyn shows us that to be fully human, we must first acknowledge the animal within.

While we often view predators as symbols of external threat, Jeni Couzyn flips this perspective by transforming the wolverine into an internal, structural necessity. If the Foundation established the wolverine as the "Shadow Self," we must now look at the **physical architecture** of the poem—how the speaker literally houses the beast within her own skeletal frame to survive a hostile world. ## The Body as a Living Cage Couzyn moves beyond metaphor into the realm of the **somatic**, or body-based experience. She does not just observe the wolverine; she imprisons it within her own anatomy to harness its power. > "I have made you a cage of my ribs / and a floor of my belly." This imagery suggests a radical form of **internalized protection**. By placing the wolverine behind her ribs, the speaker creates a biological fortress. In this sense, the "beast" is not something to be purged or cured; it is the "engine" that keeps the ribs from collapsing under the weight of social expectations. It represents a "biological honesty" that refuses to be polite when survival is at stake. ## The Scavenger’s Ethos: Persistence Over Purity In nature, the wolverine is a legendary scavenger, capable of eating frozen meat and even crushing bone that other predators leave behind. Couzyn utilizes this "persistence" as a counter-narrative to the idea of the "noble" or "graceful" animal. Most poetry celebrates the eagle’s flight or the tiger’s grace, but Couzyn celebrates the **grit of the survivor**. This aligns with the concept of [Biocentrism](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biocentrism_(ethics)), which values all living things regardless of their "beauty" or "utility" to humans. - **The Stench of Reality:** The wolverine is often called the "skunk bear" because of its scent. Couzyn embraces this "foulness" as a form of truth-telling. - **Bone-Crushing Resilience:** Just as the wolverine survives on what others discard, the speaker suggests that the human spirit must often survive on the "scraps" of joy or hope left in a harsh environment. ## The Paradox of the "Killer" as Sustainer A counterintuitive angle in the poem is the idea that the "killer" is actually a life-giver. Couzyn uses harsh, percussive language to mimic the wolverine's snarl, creating a linguistic tension that feels more like a heartbeat than a threat. > "You are my own heart’s blood / snarling in the dark." By linking the "snarl" to "heart’s blood," Couzyn suggests that **aggression is a vital sign**. In a world that often demands women be passive, the "snarling" within the heart is what prevents total psychological extinction. This connects to the work of [Clarissa Pinkola Estés](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clarissa_Pinkola_Est%C3%A9s) in *Women Who Run With the Wolves*, where the "Wild Woman" archetype is described as a necessary force for psychic health. The wolverine doesn't just represent "anger"; it represents the **will to exist** when the "winter" of life—whether that be depression, oppression, or grief—becomes unbearable. Couzyn’s poem ultimately argues that the most "terrifying" parts of ourselves are often the very parts that keep us alive.