'Enchanted Creatures' explores the monsters that never lived but always haunted us

Natalie Lawrence’s new book delves into the monstrous myths that shaped human consciousness and imagination.

An illustration from the 'North French Hebrew Miscellany' (circa 1300). (c) British Library/Bridgeman Images
An illustration from the 'North French Hebrew Miscellany' (circa 1300). (c) British Library/Bridgeman Images

By Anna Fadiah and Hayu Andini

The monsters may never have existed, but they have always lingered in the human mind. In Enchanted Creatures, Natalie Lawrence, an English writer and illustrator, investigates these enduring figures of fear—dragons, werewolves, and serpentine deities—that dwell in myth and imagination. Her thesis resonates with a phrase coined by the Roman historian Sallustius, who once described myth as things that “never happened but always are.” It is a sentiment that captures the heart of Lawrence’s book: monsters are not real, but they are always present.

Drawing from a decade of academic research and a lifetime of fascination, Lawrence travels through time and across cultures, cataloging the strange and the terrifying. From Paleolithic cave paintings to Babylonian clay tablets, Enchanted Creatures is a globe-spanning narrative that seeks to understand how imagined beasts reflect human nature. With Enchanted Creatures, Natalie Lawrence is not just writing about monsters—she’s writing about us.

From Beowulf to Babylon

Lawrence’s academic background is rooted in her Ph.D. work at Cambridge University, where she studied seventeenth-century natural histories, travelogues, and catalogues of wonders. Her research laid the groundwork for this accessible yet richly layered book. She recounts legendary stories such as Beowulf, filled with dragons and monstrous foes, and the Enūma Eliš, the Mesopotamian creation myth that features deities battling serpent-tailed monsters in a violent clash of chaos and order.

The Enūma Eliš serves as a cornerstone for Lawrence’s analysis, illustrating how early civilizations interpreted the origin of the cosmos through monstrous narratives. But Lawrence resists drawing definitive conclusions. Although she invokes Jungian psychology to suggest these stories reflect the birth of human consciousness, she ultimately treats such interpretations as speculative rather than conclusive. “It’s an interesting thought experiment,” she writes—just one of many she offers without firm endorsement.

Monsters as mirrors

In Enchanted Creatures, Natalie Lawrence explores how monster myths function as mirrors of cultural fear and fascination. One of the book’s strengths lies in its vivid descriptions, particularly when Lawrence discusses the monstrous allure of fossils and prehistoric beasts. The discovery of dinosaur skeletons and extinct megafauna in the nineteenth century galvanized the public imagination, but such findings were not new. Ancient peoples also encountered giant bones and, without the framework of modern science, folded them into their myths.

Lawrence draws upon the work of folklorist Adrienne Mayor, who argues that dragons and giants may have originated from fossil discoveries made in antiquity. But as with much in the book, Lawrence keeps her distance from hard conclusions. She acknowledges the possibility but insists that mythological creatures were not merely the result of fossil misinterpretation—they were absorbed into preexisting cultural frameworks.

The fear of the unknown

The unknown has always been fertile ground for monstrous creation. From deep-sea terrors to bizarre land animals, Lawrence shows how the unfamiliar became terrifying. Animals like walruses, pangolins, and narwhals struck early travelers as otherworldly, giving rise to tales of sea monsters and chimeras. The ocean itself, with its vast, unknowable depths, served as a canvas for some of humanity’s most unsettling imaginings.

Lawrence asserts that the monsters of the deep are projections of our psychological landscape, conjured from fear, awe, and ignorance. Yet, once again, she skirts the implications. What exactly these creatures reveal “about ourselves” remains elusive. The idea is raised, circled, and then gently put aside.

The modern monsters among us

Where Enchanted Creatures gains contemporary relevance is in its treatment of modern monsters—those born not from myth, but from technological and environmental anxiety. Lawrence observes that since the Industrial Revolution, our fears have shifted. No longer content with gorgons and chimeras, we now create monsters that embody our own recklessness.

Monsters like Godzilla, born of nuclear radiation, or the self-aware machines of The Matrix, are expressions of our modern fears. As Lawrence writes in the book’s closing chapter, “we’re constantly looking over our shoulders, wondering what the consequences might be.” In this sense, the monsters of today are reflections of our growing awareness of humanity’s destructive potential.

This shift underscores a key theme in Enchanted Creatures: that while monsters may evolve, their roots remain the same. They are born of imagination and nurtured by fear. Whether ancient or modern, mythological or scientific, monsters endure because they speak to something primal within us.

A book of dazzling detours

Though Enchanted Creatures is filled with fascinating details and historical depth, some readers may find themselves wishing for more interpretive boldness. Lawrence presents a rich array of theories and anecdotes but avoids making definitive claims. She suggests that monsters reveal something essential about human consciousness, yet rarely commits to what that something is.

This hesitance is both a strength and a limitation. On one hand, it respects the complexity of mythology and avoids the pitfalls of oversimplification. On the other, it leaves the reader with more questions than answers. One finishes the book marveling at the monsters, but still unsure what, precisely, they mean.

Still, for those who delight in history, myth, and the eerie recesses of the imagination, Enchanted Creatures offers a compelling journey. Lawrence’s writing is vivid and often poetic, her command of source material impressive, and her enthusiasm infectious. Even when her arguments feel tentative, her storytelling shines.

Monsters that never lived, but always are

In the end, the monsters of Enchanted Creatures live up to Sallustius’s definition: things that “never happened but always are.” They are figments of fear, curiosity, and wonder—unreal, yet deeply real in their impact. Through her exploration, Natalie Lawrence invites readers to consider why we keep inventing creatures to fear and revere. The answer may lie not in the creatures themselves, but in what they draw out of us.

Enchanted Creatures by Natalie Lawrence may not offer all the answers, but it does what the best books on myth and history should do: it makes us look again at the world—not just the world outside us, but the one within. And there, lurking in the shadows of imagination, the monsters wait.

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