The Devil’s Body: Hybridization, Metamorphosis, and Interspecies Interaction in Early Modern Demonology

In recent decades, Renaissance and Early Modern studies have increasingly focused on animal studies, human-animal relations, and posthumanism. [1] While Renaissance humanism has often been regarded as the quintessential historical moment when anthropocentrism was firmly established in European culture, leading to clearer distinctions between the human and the non-human, numerous studies now emphasize that this dichotomy was, in fact, remarkably unstable. Until the eighteenth century, the boundaries between the human and the non-human were fluid and permeable. In this context, recent studies have suggested that key parameters of posthumanist thought, such as the critique of anthropocentrism, are in fact inherent in various aspects of Renaissance culture. [2]

The history of magic is particularly well suited to exploring the fluidity of boundaries between the human and the non-human in early modern Europe. The primary sources available to us – whether court records, demonological treatises, or pamphlets – are filled with fascinating accounts of hybrid beings, interspecies relationships, and stories of transformation. Several studies have argued that in popular culture, particularly in rural areas, traditions exhibited remarkably porous boundaries between humans and animals. Animal familiars (demons transformed into small animals that serve those who provide them with shelter and care), rooted in English rural culture, were “insistently liminal” creatures that blurred established taxonomic categories. These familiars were “situated astride the borders of human and animal” and “disrupted the division between animal and human.” [3] Moreover, it has been suggested that the magical transformation of humans into animals held a central place in popular imagination, where the human and the animal were not viewed as opposites, but as parts of a taxonomic continuum. [4] The blurring of boundaries between the human and the animal is also evident in the imagery of human flight, the origins of which can be traced to popular culture as well. In Scottish magical imagery, for example, the force enabling flight often came from animals, plants, or magical objects. At times, however, humans themselves transformed into animals or birds to undertake long journeys. [5] The imagery of flight often coexisted with the motif of transformation, confusing the boundaries between humans and animals and offering new, unexplored possibilities for the bearers of magical bodies. Similarly hybrid was the figure of the werewolf, which, although dismissed by most theologians, remained vivid in popular imagination – associated either with benevolent magic [6] or with beastly sexuality and bloodthirsty instincts. [7] The liminal position of the werewolf has led the historian Willem de Blécourt to speak of “a third gender” to describe these humans who had “gone beyond humanity and had entered the animal realm.” [8]

However, a more complex – and less studied – topic remains the exploration of the boundaries between human and non-human beings, as well as the concept of transformation in scholarly perceptions of witchcraft during the early modern period. In general, European learned culture, which drew primarily from classical heritage and the Christian worldview, typically interpreted hybridity, transformation, and mutability as monstrous and threatening, associating them with sin, disorder, and deviance. Specifically, the humanistic paradigm, influenced by the Aristotelian anthropocentric, hierarchical, and dichotomous distinction between human and animal, privileged man – or more precisely, the male – as the supreme being, endowed with the ‘superior’ human qualities of speech and reason. Within this framework, the bodies of Others – women, plebeians, non-Christians, and the indigenous peoples of the New World – were often ‘dehumanized’ and categorized as inferior, closer to nature than to culture, driven by bestial impulses rather than reason and temperance. This anthropocentric view was further reinforced by the Genesis creation narrative, which substantiates the human being and places the male in a hierarchical relationship with the rest of the world. The anxiety over the transgression of boundaries between various categories or identities became even more apparent during the Reformation, which saw growing suspicion toward conversion, the establishment of heteronormativity and the patriarchal household, the prohibition of sexual relations between people of different religions, the development of early racial categories in the colonial context, and the emerging concept of purity of blood.

The devil’s body – central to learned perceptions of witchcraft – was a key figure that stirred intellectual anxieties about hybridization, permeability, and interspecies interaction in early modern Europe. A careful examination of representations of this figure may thus offer deeper insight into the way learned culture conceptualized the boundaries between the human and the non-human, as well as the perceived threat of their destabilization. By analyzing depictions of the devil’s body in the demonological literature of the 16th and 17th centuries, this study investigates whether the devil’s ontological ambiguity – manifested in his transformations, anthropomorphism, and sexual encounters with humans – exposed the fragility of categorical boundaries or, conversely, reinforced and affirmed the notion of human exceptionalism. Additionally, it explores whether these representations stem from a medieval Christian paradigm or, by emphasizing the devil’s corporeality, depart from an older tripartite division of the world (human-natural-spiritual) and contribute to a redefinition of the body. Finally, with particular attention to the motif of sexual relations between humans and the devil, this study considers whether the discourse around the devil’s embodied presence on earth ultimately served as a framework for reflecting on human nature itself – both theologically and scientifically – during a period of profound social and cultural transformation.

Narratives concerning the corporeality of the devil first emerged in the 13th century and crystallized in the demonological literature that flourished during the European witch hunts. Demonological treatises became increasingly prevalent in the second half of the 16th century, a period marked by the intensification of witch trials. Many of the authors of these writings – primarily theologians and jurists – had led witch persecutions themselves or overseen inquisitorial proceedings. This was a complex process, as demonological literature frequently drew its examples from courtroom cases, while judicial officials, both secular and ecclesiastical, often adopted methods prescribed in demonological manuals. The primary objective of this literature was to mobilize both secular and ecclesiastical authorities to enforce stricter measures against witchcraft. Consequently, a rhetoric of danger emerged, underscoring the growing threat that witchcraft posed to Christian communities. [9]

According to this demonological imagery, opposition to divine and human order materialized as demonic heresy, whose members had to be punished exemplarily to ensure the purification of Christian society. This heresy was embodied in the spiritual, physical, and sexual union between witches and the devil. Within this framework, the devil was no longer merely an evil spirit or fallen angel, but a corporeal hybrid entity perceptible through human senses. As the embodiment of evil, the devil dominated the imagery of the witches’ secret nocturnal gatherings, known as sabbaths. At these gatherings, he was worshiped through the desecration of Christian rituals, infant sacrifices, orgiastic feasts, demonic sexual unions, and acts of cannibalism. [10]

In the 13th century, the theologian Thomas Aquinas argued that demons, like angels, possessed aerial bodies, allowing them to “mimic eating, walking, and other activities by moving their artificial bodies appropriately, even though no real eating or walking is happening.” [11] From the 15th century onward, the prevailing view gradually took hold that, although the devil and demons lacked physical bodies, they could, through various means, acquire a temporary and elusive corporeality to deceive humans and interact with them. The idea that demons had a corporeal form – and could therefore be perceived not only through the imagination but also through the senses – implied that encounters with them could take place ‘in reality.’ This perspective contrasted with earlier texts, such as the Canon Episcopi (906), which placed encounters with demons exclusively in the realm of hallucinations and dreams. [12]

In the late 15th century, the concept of demons possessing virtual bodies was further developed by the Dominican Heinrich Kramer, who explained in his treatise Malleus Maleficarum (1487) that demons assume bodies or effigies made of dense vapors but “remain in them only as movers […] they are like a sailor in a ship that he has moved.” As the demonologist observes, an embodied angel, whether good or bad, does not perceive the world through its body. Instead, the organs it appears to possess serve merely to deceive humans; in other words, they are ‘painted’ organs. [13]

According to Christian cosmology, only God has the power to bring about significant transformations in nature that involve the ontological mutation of his creations. Therefore, the devil can only use elements of nature to construct his virtual body. As the Dominican theologian and scholastic philosopher Bartolomeo Spina explained, the devil can place a “phantasmatic body” over a real body or interpose an obstacle between the observer’s eyes and the actual body, allowing only the phantasmatic body to be seen. [14]

By the early 17th century, the debate over the corporeality of demons had become central in demonological literature, with some demonologists adopting a more ‘solid’ interpretative framework, drawing on ‘experience’ and contemporary scientific discourse. In his treatise Discours des sorciers (1602), the Burgundy judge Henri Boguet observed:

The devil’s virtual body is strikingly revealed through his voice. As Heinrich Kramer explains, the devil does not produce a real voice but rather sounds that mimic one, since only living beings possess a true voice. [17] The devil’s voice continued to perplex 16th- and 17th-century demonologists, who sought to address the issue from a more scientific perspective. According to the Lorraine judge Nicolas Rémy (Daeomonolatria, 1595), the devil, lacking a tongue, larynx, or lungs, can only vibrate the air from which his body is formed. Consequently, his speech resembles the sound of someone speaking through a cracked jug – unstable and muffled. [18] Boguet observes that although demons, as spirits, lack the necessary organs for speech, they can still communicate by possessing the bodies of humans or animals. This phenomenon, Boguet notes, should not surprise those who have heard “jays and parrots counterfeit human speech so well that it seemed as if a man was speaking.” [19] However, while it is “far more difficult to believe that the devil can speak when he has no body at all, or one formed only by air, this can happen in a natural manner, just as if the voice were formed by an agitation and vibration of air.” As Boguet explains, “the echo gives us an example of this, when we see valleys and hollow places reply articulately to the human voice so exactly that it seems as if those places were imitating our speech; and from this it is easy to understand that the human voice may be quite well counterfeit without the use of lungs, tongue or teeth.” [20] Nevertheless, as the demonologist clarifies, it is impossible for art to imitate nature so perfectly. Thus, “it has been observed that generally the devil cannot control his voice so well as to imitate the human voice in such a way that it cannot be distinguished; for his voice is either harsh, or thin and penetrating, or like that of a man speaking in a tub.” [21]

What primarily concerned demonologists, however, was that the devil’s body, composed of human and animal parts as well as natural elements like air, undergoes constant transformation. This fluidity deceives human intellect, senses, and imagination, while also disrupting the God-ordained boundaries between species. According to Rémy, demons, like Proteus, can assume countless forms and their bodies are as malleable as clouds. They can roar like lions, leap like panthers, or bark like dogs. If necessary, they can even transform into household objects. [22] In his treatise Daemonologie (1597), James VI of Scotland, later King of England, argued that the devil could appear as a dog, cat, monkey, or other animal – or even manifest solely through his voice. [23] Guazzo notes that, since ancient times, the devil has preferred to take the form of a goat “because this animal was used by the Jews in their rituals in the past, essentially worshipping the devil himself.” [24] While the devil may take on a human form when making pacts with humans, he appears as a goat – ugly, foul-smelling, and repulsive – when it comes time for his worship. [25] When wishing to appear kind and friendly, he takes the form of a dog or cat. To carry someone on his back, he transforms into a horse. If he seeks to enter a place unnoticed, he becomes a mouse or bat. To implant ideas in someone’s mind, he assumes the form of a fly, whispering in their ear. To attack humans or prey on sheep, he transforms into a wolf. To disturb the soul, he takes the shape of a rooster – large and proud. When he wishes to harm while appearing benevolent, he can take on the form of an angel – or even appear as Christ or God Himself. [26]

Nevertheless, as Guazzo reassures his readers, although the devil strives to mimic the human form, God would never allow for absolute resemblance – after all, humans are made in the image of God himself. For this reason, there will always be some flaw in the devil’s body, typically in the limbs: hands or feet that are forked, thin, claw-like, or hairy, resembling those of a goat or donkey. [27] Similarly, Rémy explains that divine goodness does not permit the devil to fully imitate the human form, ensuring there is always some mark or flaw that reveals the brutality of his nature. The lack of proportion is also characteristic of the devil’s monstrous essence. As Rémy observes, his stature is devoid of harmony, being either unnaturally small or excessively bulky. [28]

The boundaries between being and appearance are unsettlingly blurred in narratives of the devil’s corporeal presence on earth. Central to these accounts is the notion of dissimulation and deception, which can only be uncovered through small details observed by those seeking the truth. Notably, the preoccupation with dissimulation – particularly regarding the authenticity or absence of Christian faith – gains prominence during the Reformation period in Europe. The devil’s hybrid and mutable body thus emerges as something monstrous, a potent symbol of a world in chaos, where divine harmony and human order are profoundly tested.

In his classic study Thinking with Demons: The Idea of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe (1997), Stuart Clark thoroughly examined how the Witches’ Sabbath was conceptualized in learned demonological thought, identifying three key components: dichotomy, opposition, and inversion. Although Clark’s position has been subject to interesting revisions, [29] it remains a valuable framework for understanding the cultural construction of the Sabbath. The Witches’ Sabbath embodied the antithesis of the Christian body – a space where malevolence was enacted through inversion, and religious faith became both an object of imitation and parody. The devil himself was depicted as the “ape of God,” delighting in mimicking God through opposition, simulation, and mockery, as many theologians observed. Just as God was worshiped enthroned by his followers, so too was the devil. Baptism was replaced by a pact with the devil, miracles by acts of malice, and clergy by demons. [30]

The blurring of boundaries between human and non-human is evident in the unholy and abnormal interspecies union of the devil with humans. The notion of devil worship as a predominantly female and sexualized act is systematically constructed for the first time in the Malleus Maleficarum. Drawing on Christian tradition and medical theories from classical antiquity, Kramer observes that women are inherently imperfect and predisposed to sin, while their moist temperament makes them more susceptible to contact with spirits. Their lack of self-control renders them slaves to desires, emotions, and impulses, while their unrestrained lust drives them to seek sexual pleasure even from the devil himself. What form do the devil and demons take during such encounters? Kramer contends that during sexual acts, male demons are visible only to their lovers. [32] A few decades later, Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola described these “malevolent spirits” as possessing beautiful, graceful faces, and bodies as soft as cotton. Simultaneously, their oversized sexual organs provide greater pleasure than those of humans. [33]

References to the devil’s sexual encounters with humans become increasingly frequent in demonological literature from the late 16th century onward. In several key demonological treatises published at the end of the 16th and the beginning of the 17th century, it becomes evident that sexual intercourse acquires new connotations. The sexualized demonic body now assumes distinctly monstrous traits, making the sexual act not only sinful and abhorrent but also violent and painful. According to Boguet, sex with the devil is painful due to his ugliness and deformity, which “lies in the fact that he couples with witches sometimes in the form of a black man, sometimes in that of some animal, such as a dog, a cat, a ram, or a gander.” [34] These animals, even when composed entirely of animal parts, are hybridized through their human behavior and attributes. However, the devil can also engage in intercourse with humans even when his body is aerial, “for in that case, he makes the body of air so dense that it is palpable (for air is, of itself, palpable), and consequently capable of coition with, and even defloration of a woman.” [35]What appears to concern Boguet most, however, is that sex with the devil represents yet another form of unholy miscegenation, as he observes: “For if God abominates the coupling of an infidel with a Christian, how much more shall he detest that of a man with the devil?” [36]

In the works of Nicolas Rémy and Pierre de Lancre, a renowned judge who worked in the Basque region, the devil’s bestiality is intricately linked to the act of penetration. The devil’s icy semen evokes terror and revulsion, while his sexual organ – oversized, sharp, and deformed – inflicts unbearable pain and causes bleeding. Sexual deviance is further accentuated through graphic descriptions of sodomitic practices. [37] The demonic ethereal body, as examined in the treatises of Kramer and Pico della Mirandola, has now assumed a tangible materiality, with hybridity and monstrosity concentrated primarily on the devil’s grotesque and beastly genitalia. In his treatise Tableau de l’inconstance des mauvais anges et demons (1612), Pierre de Lancre observes that the devil’s sexual organ is composed of poisonous scales, horn, flesh mixed with iron, and other materials that provoke excruciating pain and horror. [38]

Many demonologists debated whether the union between the devil and humans could result in conception and the creation of new life. Kramer suggests that a female demon (succubus) can extract semen from the man with whom she engages in intercourse and then either transform into a male demon (incubus) or pass the semen to a male demon, who would subsequently fertilize a woman. [39] Later demonologists concur that while demons do not possess semen, women can conceive using “borrowed semen” transferred to their wombs by a demon. However, this process must occur instantaneously to preserve the semen’s life-giving warmth. Rémy highlights that the devil’s sexual organ lacks testicles and scrotum. Drawing on contemporary medical theories, which posited that conception required female orgasm, Rémy argues that even if demons possessed semen, the brutal nature of demonic unions would be unlikely to induce the sexual arousal necessary for conception. [40] Demons’ motives for mating with humans are not driven by desire, as they are neither attracted to beauty nor interested in reproduction, since they were created in the beginning in a certain fixed number. Furthermore, as Rémy observes, fertilization can only occur between beings of similar nature. [41] As Rémy points out, humans and demons belong to two distinct and opposing species: one mortal, the other immortal; one material, the other immaterial; one emotional, the other devoid of emotion. [42]

A few years later, Boguet addressed the same issue, drawing on both medical and theological arguments:

In exploring the boundaries between the material and the spiritual, the human and the non-human, the possible and the impossible, detailed observations concerning sexual relations between the devil and humans – especially those focused on the devil’s sexual organs – became central, particularly from the late 16th century onward. The emphasis on the devil’s sexuality both bestialized and humanized him, while the focus on his imperfect genitalia and his inability to reproduce served as a reassuring affirmation of his belonging to the spiritual realm and his limited influence on the earthly world.

The representations of the devil’s body in early modern demonological literature, while rooted in a medieval Christian paradigm, placed a distinct emphasis on the devil’s corporeality, marking a departure from the earlier tripartite division of the world (human, natural, spiritual). The devil’s body became a focal point of debate among intellectuals regarding the boundaries between the possible and the impossible, the natural and the spiritual. Particularly from the late 16th century onward, discussions about the devil’s body, its properties, and its functions were enriched with arguments drawn not only from theological discourse, but also from the scientific thought of the period. The ethereal demonic bodies described by authors like Thomas Aquinas, Heinrich Kramer, and Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola gradually evolved in treatises by Henri Boguet, Nicolas Rémy, and Pierre de Lancre into a solid materiality constructed from hard and durable substances, specifically designed to inflict pain.

The frequent blurring of boundaries between the human, the non-human, and the demonic in representations of the devil’s body reveals a posthuman dimension within the demonological culture of the early modern period. At the same time, however, it unveils deeper anxieties about the potential instability of human nature, disorder, and transgression. The ontological ambiguity of the devil exposes the vulnerability of the categorical boundaries that sustain the divine origin of the world and the exceptionalism of human nature, threatening to undermine both political and divine order. The concept of the human is challenged both by the devil’s frequent transformations into hybrid forms – composed of human, animal, and natural elements like air – and by his anthropomorphism, whose imperfect nature is betrayed only by specific physical defects. What appears human may ultimately not be; the human form could merely be a dissimulation or illusion, and the human body, in the end, does not guarantee a human conscience. The essence of the devil can continuously shift from body to body, from materiality to materiality, much like modern software. However, at the same time, the emphasis on the differences between human and demonic bodies, as expressed in theological and scientific terms – particularly in discussions of the sexuality and reproductive capacity of demons – ultimately appears to affirm the uniqueness of human nature.

The early modern period in Europe was marked by intense social, intellectual, and cultural transformation. The development of anatomy, the redefinition of the European ‘self’ in relation to non-European populations, the search for true faith, and the persecution of heresy and heterodoxy spurred by the Reformation, the regulation of sexuality, the establishment of heteronormativity, and the naturalization of the patriarchal household all inevitably raised new anxieties about what it means to be human and what humanity ought to be. In this context, the embodied presence of the devil on earth ultimately served as another site for reflection on human nature.