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Book Review - The Last Werewolf - By Glen Duncan - -
Where are these Freudian howlers of the night? Theirs has been rather a raw deal. No longer. For now we have Jake Marlowe — the centerpiece of Glen Duncan’s playfully brainy new novel, “The Last Werewolf” — a 200-year-old, Kant-­reading, chain-smoking aesthete whom one could easily imagine curling up with a bottle of single-malt Scotch and a copy of The New York Review of Books. He is prone to mordant observation, as in: “The point of civilization is so that one can check in to a quality hotel.” ‎- Victory through semantics