Frankenstein

Victor from Young Frankenstein

To give a one sentence over view, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley is a “horror” novel following a dying mans tale about his life and that of his creation; a wretched monster put together from the dead. The reason I question horror is simply because I don’t think that was Mary Shelley’s direction what-so-ever. If anything it was her convection of emotional pain by being the child that took her own mothers life at infancy. She grew, as the Monster, without the love of her maker to teach her the lessons of being a human in their world. As the monster, she self educated herself, felt the pains of loneliness and betrayal. Due to her running off with Percy Bysshe, her unmarried lover, to Europe she felt the desperation of poverty, and when she returned, the sting of rejection met by her father and friends. In many aspects this novel is simply her life told through the brilliant story of Frankenstein. Now as the story itself I do not acquit that there are definite elements of horror sprinkled within its words. For instance close attention she pays to weather cannot be ignored. It seems whenever Frankenstein meets his monster or is in better of moods storms follow him, as to signal some natural defiance towards him. The current itself carries him into the arms of police who have believed he had strangled his friend Clerval.  

What interested me the most though was following how close each person came to the line of innocent and evil and how plagued the monster was. At first glance it’s easy to say who the “bad guy” and who the “good guy” was in the story. Obviously the bad guy was the monster because he is damned by the “all mighty”, killed and plotted against numerous people. Frankenstein cannot be blamed for following his passions into a dark alley correct?

 Well not exactly. True that Frankenstein was just following his love of science and alchemy but question is whether or not he should be blamed for the creation of this monster. His obsession drove him to the point of insanity. He longed for this creation, loved his workings involving this creation. This was the big mamba of alchemy and it was within his grasp to accomplish. He should have never accepted the challenge. I don’t know about you but when I start hanging around graveyards and playing with dead bodies I think I’ve either driven one fantasy a little too far or reconsider my interests in Animation. This is a man who becomes sick just by looking at the monsters eye and drops ill by hearing how unhappy his family is at home. His instincts should have been tearing down the bell tower telling him something was amiss. Instead he blatantly drives on, giving life to something he is not ready for, therefore abandoning it.

                I don’t think the monster can rightly be judged for just about anything he has done in the novel.  This monster is born into a world which completely rejects him by no fault of his own. Cursed by unbearable appearance he is often beaten and thrown out of towns. By seeking company and shelter he happens upon what appears to be genuine people of care. Eaves dropping and careful listening he educates himself from these cottage (De Lacy) people in return helping them with their jobs on the land in secret. His only reward is to be judged again by his hideous appearance and driven away. He even saves a young girl from drowning only to be shot in the shoulder. I mean c’mon how much does a guy gotta do to find one caring soul.

                He eventually ends up killing all that are close to Frankenstein by the only gift given to him- his strength. I, by no means, blame him for anything that he has done.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and felt like I could relate to both parties in their dubious acts (not so much the marrying of the cousin) as well as really dig my heels into what Mary Shelley herself was feeling at the time. For this book is mostly her as she was during her life.

Lies

At any rate what I took away was this; at times everyone feels alone in their lives but at least they have brothers or family or even people around them who are as ugly as them to share their miseries either against or together with.