“It was on a
dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishments of my toils. With an
anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life
around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that
lay at my feet”
Title: Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus
Author: Mary Shelley
Year: 1818
Pages: 240
Through
the letters the seaman Robert Walton writes to his sister, we get to know the
scientist Victor Frankenstein. In an attempt to create a perfect creature, he
creates a killing monster. But as we also learn the point of view of that
monster, we start to doubt Frankenstein’s motives and methods.
Frankenstein fits into two
of the most important literary traditions of the beginning of the nineteenth
century, as both Romantic and Gothic elements are at the base of this story.
Firstly, the novel is very nature oriented, which is according to Romantic
conventions. Scenery is described many times, but nature also influences the
character’s moods – when a horrible winter has passed, for example, the monster
feels happy when spring finally arrives. When Frankenstein chases the monster
through the Arctic desert, this scenery symbolises his useless efforts. Gothic
ties in with this in the sense that the locations are generally gloomy.
Moreover, gothic literature focusses on the supernatural as well as the
mysterious, and these aspects are certainly present in this novel.
Steven
Lehman argues that “[in] Victor Frankenstein, Mary Shelley created a male
character who yearned for the existential security of elemental procreative
power in the same way that she herself did” (50). This reading would thus mean
that Frankenstein is somehow a mirror of the author herself.
More
likely to me, though, is that his desire to create life, and his failure at
doing so, is in fact fed by Shelley’s feminist thoughts: men cannot procreate
without the help of women. Frankenstein tries to, but fails. This way, even
though there are few women of importance in the novel, this highlights their
significance.
An
important theme in this novel is the impact of science. By creating a character
like Frankenstein’s monster, Shelley expresses concern towards the developments
in this area, and in the end of the novel Robert Walton – who was the man whose
letters we’re reading – is convinced that scientific ambitions should never be
the main focus of one’s life. Rather, family, friendship and solidarity should
always come first.
By
most readers, the monster is seen as a helpless, misunderstood creature. He is
ugly and hence people are appalled by him, even his own creator rejects him.
While in exile, he tries to learn the ways of the world, teaching himself how
to speak and read – so in terms of that he becomes equal or even superior, to
the general human being – but still, people are scared of him, merely because
of his appearance. This aggravates him and he turns violent. Consequently
people become even more afraid of him. While I understand that the monster’s
narrative grants us insight into his motives, I could not fully sympathise with
him, and did not feel that being misunderstood justifies his actions. That does
not mean I’m on Frankenstein’s side, because even though he did not deserve to
be treated that horribly, I feel he could have been more active in protecting
his family and helping his creation.
Now,
don’t misunderstand my dislike towards the main characters as dislike for the
book. If you’d happen to read more of my reviews, you’ll learn I quite often
like unlikable characters in novels – mostly in classics. In Frankenstein, the
characters were all interesting, and especially the monster and the professor
did not lack depth. Though I have to admit towards the ending, they did start
to bother me a little bit, but this also had to do with the slowness of the
novel. Although for the first say 85 per cent of the novel this did truly not
bother me at all, probably because I was warned beforehand not to expect an
action packed horror story, towards the ending I was waiting for a conclusion,
for the whining to be over. That is why I couldn’t rate the novel five stars,
but it’s surely worth four stars. The story is original, interesting, layered,
and the writing is beautiful, especially keeping in mind Shelley was only
eighteen at the time of writing this!
