Document

S y l v i a L o r r a i n e rower ban^
B.A.,
B.Zd.,
McMaster Universi t y , 1970
University o f Toron t o , 1971
SUPMITTED 13 PARTIAL FULFILL'JIEN'L' OF
'EIE kEQUIHE 'XN'I'S FOR ?HX D d G R S E OF
A THESIS
MASTER OF ARTS
i n the Depar h e n 1
of
ling 1i sh
A l l rights reserved.
T h i s t h e s i s may n o t be r e p r ~ d u c e d
i c whole o r i n p s r t , b y photocopy o r by o t h e r means,
w i t h o u t permission of the a u t h o r .
APPROVAL
NAME:
Syl v i a L o r r a i n e BOWERBANK
DEGREE:
Master o f A r t s
MARY SHELLEY AS PROPHETESS OF THE
HORROR OF MODERN-PROMETHEANISM:
AN INTERPRETATION OF FRANKENSTEIN.
TITLE OF THESES:
EXAMINING COMMITTEE:
Chairman:
D r . Peter Buitenhuis, Professor o f English,
Simon Fraser U n i v e r s i t y .
-
- .
D r . Michael S t e i g ,
Senior Supervisor
7
,
-
-~
.
,
-
Dr. Mason H a r r i s ,
A s s i s t a n t Professor
Dr. J e r a l d Zaslove,
Associate Professor
r
D r . John Doheny,
A s s i s t a n t Professor
Dept. o f English, U.B.C.
Date Approved:
p.77
~ l q ~ 5 f
J
PARTIAL COPYRIGHT LICENSE
I hereby g r a n t t o Simon Fraser U n i v e r s i t y t h e r i g h t t o l e n d
my t h e s i s o r d i s s e r t a t i o n ( t h e t i t l e o f which i s shown below) t o users
o f t h e Simon Fraser U n i v e r s i t y L i b r a r y , and t o make p a r t i a l o r s i n g l e
c o p i e s o n l y f o r such users o r i n response t o a r e q u e s t from t h e l i b r a r y
o f any o t h e r u n i v e r s i t y , o r o t h e r e d u c a t i o n a l i n s t i t u t i o n , on i t s own
b e h a l f o r f o r one of i t s users.
I f u r t h e r agree t h a t permission f o r
m u l t i p l e copying o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r s c h o l a r l y purposes may be granted
by me o r t h e Dean o f Graduate Studies.
I t i s understood t h a t copying
o r p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r f i n a n c i a l g a i n s h a l l n o t be a l l o w e d
w i t h o u t my w r i t t e n permission.
T i t l e o f Thesi s/Di s s e r t a t i o n :
Author :
(signature)
(name)
'
(date)
'
iii
MARY SHELLEY AS PROPHETESS OF THE HORROR OF .h.dODERNPRO?IIETIIEANISM: AN INTEHPR~TATI~?IN
OF FKANIffiNSTEIRe
My t h e s i s a t t e m p t s t o d i s c o v e r the n a t u r e
of the o r i g i n a l s p a r k of l i f e v~hichanilnated Prnnkens t e i n and h i s Monster, and t h u s perhaps t o unders t a n d what keeps then:
live,
I found t h a t though,
i n Frankenstein, Mciry She1 l e y s e t s o u t t o embody
Godwinian radical a r ' g ~ r n e n t ~ sh, e r ai~ibivalencepermeates t h e novel.
Though she i s p a r t i a l l y conscious
of h e r i n c o n s i e t e n c i e s , the dream-symbol which i s Ihe
a i . i . i s t i c prophecy of the n o v e l , i . e , ,
her creation
of t h a t h o r r i f y i n g image of " t h e p a l e s t u d e n t o f
t h e unhallowed arrs" and h i r c r e a t i o n , " t h e hideous
phantasm of
3
rnsn," origin-. t e i~n h e r i n a r t i c u l a t e
s t a t e of mind bhich I hdve i d e n t i f i e d a s conservat i v e h o r r o r a t the s u c c e s s of modern-Prome theanism
( b y which I mean modern man's a t t e m p t t o become
" d i v i n e , I 1 t o ~nskee a r t h llneavenll)
.
Chapter One uses ~ : l z l i t t ' sThe S p i r i t of
t h e Age i n o r d e r t o s e t up the t,vto p o l e s of s o c i a l
-
t e n s i o n which e x i s t e d i n the p e r i o d 1790-1625,
namely, t h e s p i r i t of phi1oeophic;ll r,;dicalisrn
o r "Modern Philosophy" and the s p i r i L of ccjnservatism o r "Legitiniacyl'.
h r y ~ h e l l e y ' smother,
Mary Wollstonecraf t., her f a t h e r , Will.i:~mGodwin,
and h e r husband, P e r c y S h e l l e y , were a11 committed
d e f e n d e r s of the r a d i c a l cause.
I n 1818, Mary
S h e l l e y consciously shared t h e i r viewyoin t , b u t
there i s a s t r o n g under-current of conservatism
i n the novel which under~nincs~ary'c sympathetic
v i n d i c a t i o n of the r i g h t s o f t h e wretched v i c t i m
of s o c i a l tyranny. L h o u g h t h e novel shows t h e
s o c i a l and doii!estic order t o b e u n f i t homes f o r
e i t h e r the p h y ~ i c e lo r t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l misfit,
both wretches , the Creature 2nd F r a n k e n s t e i n ,
c o n t i n u a l l y long t o be p a r t of the t r a n q u i l p a t t e r n
of s o c i e t y and both condemn, as w e l l a s defend,
t h e i r own a n t i - e o c i n l beh:lviourJ
Chapter Two e x p l a i n s why X:wy s u b t i t l e d
Frzr&enstei&:
l1
t h e Modern Trometheus"
.
Not only
does Mary absorb the t r a d i 1-ional a ~ s o c i a t i o n sw e
make w i t h the Promethean archetyge (from Greek,
L
i
C h r i s t i a n and Romantic t h o u g h t ) , b u t she a l s o makes
h e r Prome t h e u s "modernff by p u t t i n g him i n t o r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h t h e Enlightenment image of Prometheus,
t h e modern r a t i o n a l s c i e n t i s t , p r o b ~ i b l yexemplified
i n h e r z l n d by the c u l t u r e - h e r o F r a n k l i n .
Moreover,
I c a l l F r a n k e n s t e i n the 'labor tivet' modern-Prome theus
because of the h e s i tancy Mary shov, s toward 8 modernPromethean ambitions and because of the f a c t t h a t
Mary a t t e m p t s t o put F r a n k e n s t e i n ' s e f f o r t s i n t o
r e l a t i o n s h i p with a Godwinian b e l i e f i n t h e g r a d u a l
ascendsncy of the community of men which Frmkens t e i n i n h i s h a s t e and self-devotedness v i o l a t e s .
My t h i r d c h a p t e r p r e s e n t s the r e a l i z a Lion
of
ranke ens t e i n ' s a l c h e m i c a l ambi t.ions a s a s u c c e s s f u l
psychologicul experiment which d i s c o v e r s the i n t e r n a l
" p h y s i c d s e c r e t s ' ' of h i s n a t u r e .
A t the same
tiole, I se2 iddry S h e l l e y a s an a r t i s t i c a l c h e m i s t
o b j e c t i f y i n g t h e patLerns and f i n d i n g s of h e r own
pscyhological e x p l o r d t i o n s i n V i c t o r ' s a c t of c r e a t i o n
and i t s a f ter-math.
Ghe novel then is Y3ryts own
I1hideous progenyf1 patched t o g e t h e r from the "bones"
she c o l l e c t e d frofi h e r b ~ o g r a p h i c a le x p e r i e n c e s and
her cultural inheritances.
Both Frnnkenstein and
Mary discovered t h e i r unconscious, i r r a t i o n a l ,
c o n s e r v a t i v e h o r r o r which made the^ r e c o i l from
t h e very s u c c e s s w i t h which man could c r e a t e and
Thu t h e r c r e a t i o n s , Frankens t e i n and
become d i v i n e .
h i s Monster, took on mythological l i v e s , i n d i c a t e s
the e x t e n t t o which she i s the uncanny p r o p h e t e s s
of c o n s e r v a t i v e h o r r o r a t t h e s u c c e s s of modern-
My f o u r t h c h a p t e r , e n t i t l e d
It
the I n t e r i o r
F a t a l i t y of Mary Shelley", b r i e f l y shows t h a t once
she i s c o n s c i o u s l y a r t i c u 1 : l t i n g c o n s e r v a t i v e a t t i t u d e s i n h e r w r i t i n g s , she i s no l o n g e r a b l e t o
w r i t e a l i v i n g novel such a s F r a n k e n s t e i n , i n which
l i b e r a l hopes and c o n s e r v s t i v e f e a r s of human ad-
vancement a r e %llowed to be i n t e r t w i n e d , as they
3 r e i n r e a l i t y , i n v i t a l r e l a t i o n s h i p t o each o t h e r .
vii
Table of Contents
Chapter One :
Frankenstein as an Ambivalent Vindication of the
Rights of Wretches
page 1
Chapter m:
Frankenstein: the abortive modern-Prcanetheus
page 46
Chapter Three :
Mary Shelley a s A r t i s t i c Alchemist
page 88
Chapter Four :
Mary Shelley's "Interior Fatality"
page 134
Notes for Chapter One
page 1 4 1
Notes for Chapter Two
page 146
Notes for Chapter Three
page 153
Notes for Chapter Four
page 160
Bibliography
page 161
Chapter One
FRANKENSTEIN
AS AN
AMBIVALENT VIEDICATIPN
OF THE HIGHr2S O F WRETCHES
V i s i o n s , you know, nave
and s o f a r from growing
w i t h t h e i r emptiness, I
is no wisdom comparable
i s called t h e r e a l i t i e s
always been my p a s t u r e ;
o l d enough t o q u a r r e l
almost t h i n k t h e r e
t o e x c h a n g i w what
of l i f e f o r dreams. 1
Horace Walpole , 1766
When she was asked t o w r i t e an i n t r o d u c t i o n
t o t h e 1831 e d i t i o n of F r a n k e n s t e i n e x p l a i n i n g
"how I , then a young g i r l , came t o t h i n k o f , and
t o d i l a t e upon, s o hideous a n i d e a , " Mary Woll-
s tonecraf t Godw i n S h e l l e y tells of the i n f l u e n c e
of being t h e daughter of ''two persons of d i s t i n q u i s h ed l i t e r a r y c e l e b r i t y "
,
and o f having a husband who
was "from the f i r s t , veryanxious t h a t I should
e n r o l myself on the page of fame.
ports
"*
A 1 8 0 she re-
the conversations of t h a t summer of 1816
a t ~ y r o n ' sV i l l a Diodati i n Switzerland from which
the t a l e had i t s immediate o r i g i n s .
But t h e most
important h i n t she g i v e s i s h e r claim t h a t the embryonic scene, now chapter f i v e o f P r a m e n s t e i n ,
emerged Pron a ''waking dream":
L-:
r
1
'
I d i d not s l e e p , n o r could I be s a i d t o think.
My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided
me, g i f t i n g the successive images that a r o s e
i n my mind with a vividness f u r beyond the
usual bounds of r e v e r i e .
- --.
Mary emphasizes h e r own p s e ~ i vty
i during this
dream-viaion.
She
subpends
--"---.---- -_ __
-z
.
/
w i l l and allows
-
,/"/
/
1-"
h e r dream t o syntheeiee her c o n t r a d i c t o r y f e e l i n g 4
i n t o the symbolic r e l a t i o n s h i p between the
'?,
2i,
"8 tudent
of the unhallowed a r t s " and the "hideous phantasm
of-- a man1',,,, be tween Frankenstein and h i s Creature.
-..-
\
--J
,
L a t e r , when she expanded the t r a n s c r i p t of h e r dream,
3'
she d i d n o t tamper with the o r i g i n a l dream image
( c h a p t e r t h r e e of t h i s t h e s i s develops this i d e a ) ;
moreover, a s t h i s chapter w i l l emphasize, h e r a r t i c u l a t i o n of the o r i g i n s and development of the r e -
l a t i o n s h i p between F r a n k e n s t e i n and t h e C r e a t u r e
r e v e a l s even more c J e a r l y the ambivalent f e e l i n g s
Yary was a b l e t o r e c o n c i l e symbolically i n h e r
waking-dream.
I t i s i n i t s very unevenness and
ambiguity t h a t F r a n k e n s t e i n e x p r e s s e ~the c o n t r a d i c t i o n s of Mary's a t t i t u d e s (and, a s I s h a l l c l a i m ,
"..
_ _
-
--
-
-
"
those of h e r contemporaries) towards t h e s o c i a l
.-
o r d e r and towards the wretch o r o u t c a s t .
concludes t h a t i t i s F r a n k e n s t e i n ' s
--.-
-
Gothicness,
-
- -
--- -
This c h a p t e r
I
essential
<+
I
its i m p e r f e c t i o n s and i r r e g u l a r i t i e s ,
i
I
which g i v e s t h e novel i - t s vA,tality and beauty.
1
I n h e r 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n , Mary admits t h a t
f
ahe had a l r e a d y imbibed the raw m a t e r i a l s which
she used t o expand t h e o r i g i n a l dream-embryo of
r
*
t h e novel ( c h a p t e r f i v e of t h e 1831 e d i t i o n ) :
I n v e n t i o n , i t must humbly be a d m i t t e d , does
n o t c o n s i s t i n c r e a t i n g o u t of void, b u t o u t
o f chaos; the materials m u s t , i n the f i r s t
p l a c e , be a f f o r d e d : i t can g i v e form t o d a r k , a h a p e l e s s s u b s t a n c e s , b u t cannot b r i n g i n t o
being t h e substance i t s e l f . .
Invention consists i n the c a p a c i t y f o r a e i z i n g on t h e
c a p a b i l i t i e s of a s u b j e c t , and i n t h e power of
moulding and f a s h i o n i n g i d e a s suggested t o it.
.
The chaos from which she was c r e a t i n g i s l a r g e l y
t h a t o f t h e c o l l e c t i v e mind of Western c u l t u r e as
!
her wide-ranging reading l i s t s of her journal sudgest. 3
William H a z l i t t ' s The S u i r i t of the Age, f i r s t
published i n 1825, attempted t o understand the
tensions of the ade, roughly f r o m the 1790's t o
1825, by giving brief s ~ e t c h e sof i t s leading spokesmen and categorizing them as e i t h e r c r e a t i v e o r
d e s t r u c t i v e of "the s p i r i t of the age".
..- - _
According
#
-
--
t o H a z l i t t , "the s p i r i t of the age" was expressed
by ItModern Philosophy1' (by which he m e a s the
philosophical r a d i c a l i s m o r
T;he Enlightenment hopes
f
,
1,
which had n o t y e t died i n the 1790's i n ~ n g l a n d ) ,
.
'--*we
-r
-*-U--&
-L-i-
-..""%--I
C
Y
Ii
--.
/
/
"
.
C
*
but t h i s s p i r i t was everywhere being threatened
by the r e t u r n t o ltLegitimac,jU ( t h e s p i r i t of mon-
1
i
archy) which Hazli t t associated with "lawless power
j
and savage bigotryuO4 I n h i s chapter on William
Godwin, H a z l i t t -laments
how the "vaulted e d i f i c e
.
- -"--
of Reaeon" has decayed, p=Abermim&
-.
by
i
---
r a t s and verminst':
f
!
J
i
Now scarce a shadow o f i t remains; i t i s
crumbled t o d u s t , nor i s i t even talked of,..
Was i t t o t h i s t h a t M r Southey's t t I n s c r i p t i o n s "
pointed? t o t h i s that Mr Coleridge's "Rel i g i o u s Musingst' tended? was i t f o r t h i s ,
t h a t M r Godwin himself s a t with arms f o l d e d l
and ' l i k e Cato, gave h i s l i t t l e senate laws F
O r r a t h e r , l i k e another Prospero, u t t e r e d
s y l l a b l e s t h a t w i t h t h e i r enchanted b r e a t h
were t o change t h e world, and might almost
s t o p the s t a r s i n t h e i r c o u r s e s ?
Oh! and i s a l l f o r g o t ? Is t h i s sun
of i n t e l l e c t b l o t t e d from t h e sky? O r h a s
i t s u f f e r e d t o t a l e c l i p s e ? O r i s i t we who
make t h e f a n c i e d gloom, by looking a t i t
through t h e p a l t r y , broken, s t a i n e d f r a g ments of our own i n t e r e s t s and p r e j u d i c e s ?
Were we f o o l s t h e n , o r a r e we d i s h o n e s t now?
O r was t h e impulee of mind l e s s l i k e l y t o be
t r u e and sound when i t a r o s e from high thought
and warm f e e l i n g , then a f t e r w a r d s when i t
was warped and debased by example, t h e v i c e s
and f o l l i e s of t h e world? 5
I n o t h e r c h a p t e r s , H a z l i t t i d e n t i f i e s soue of t h e
"verminw who were t r y i n g t o put o u t " t h e s p i r i t of
the age".
Walter S c o t t ' s " z e a l t o r e s t o r e t h e
s p i r i t of l o y a l t y , of p a s s i v e obedience and nonr e s i s t a n c e " i s a t t a c k e d , though S c o t t i s "(by
comon consent)
...
t h e f i n e a t , the most humane
and accomplished w r i her of h i s
M r Yalthus
wrote t h e Essay on P o p u l a t i o n which Hazlf t t "cannot b u t consider...
a8 one of the poisonous i n -
g r e d i e n t s thrown i n t o t h e cauldron of Legitimacy
' t o make i t t h i c k and s l a b ' . H ~
Even Coleridge
ttsounded a r e t r e a t w f o r t h e p o e t s who could n o t
s t a n d t h e frowns b o t h of king and people.
They
d i d not l i k e t o be s h u t o u t when p l a c e s and pensions,
when t h e c r i t i c ' s p r a i s e s , and the l a u r e l wreath
were about t o be d i s t r i b ~ t e d . . . ~ ~According
- . -t o Hazl i t t , though Coleridge r e t r e a t e d from " t h e s p i r i t
of the
enLer the w a l l s of
he hirneelt did M L
Legi t h a c y
, inste3cYVcprtchmg his-.-tent upon
u
barr8en wuate - w i t h o u t , lhad]
n o r c i t y of refuge!"
...
the
no o b l d i n g p l a c e
\
,/
8
\
I
'!
-- -influenced
Mary S h e l l e y could n o t h e l p but be
b o t h by ;'the s p i r i t of the agew f o r which both h e r
i,
,
i
p a r e n t s and l a t e r h e r husband were l e n d i n g spokesmen
\$
---
/'
__
i n England and by the s p i r i t of Legitimacy and
a
conservatism which dornina t e d i n England d u r i n g h e r
A'
"
adolescence and attempted t o r i p e o u t "modern p h i l o sophyH o r " p h i l o s o p h i c a l radicalism" a s i t was
called.
.
also /
-1 '
As h e r journal i n d i c a t e e , Mary was p a r t i c u -
- --.
.s"
l a r l y f a m i l i a r with t h e w r i t i n g s of h e r p a r e n t s
and w i t h those by which S h e l l e y was influenced.
Mary may have w r i t t e n c o n s c i o u s l y a r t i c u l a t i n g -9
a
Qodwinion concern f o r vict-ms of a n o p p r e s s i v e
9
\/
i
i
s o c i a l o r d e r whether they be p h y s i c a l o r i n t e l -
,\\
l e c t u a l misfits.
Bu
u u - - m d- h a s
, " _ _"
_C.".
-
A
_
_
,/
(' ,
.,
'.i
its
-
o r a t e s a contradictoryd Frankens t e i n ,
--------
though
. -._
i
j
-'
i
i1
-
t
,
/
/-
L\
I
J
4
I
6
\
__I"_h
- PZ.
re'. -
-.
\
$
l v e s and r e e t th%-2r
1
"
v i o l a t i o n of the l e g i t i ~ u n t es o c i a l order ,I just as
--
--_-<
-_
4%
'
---------
. ---
the whole generation of h n g l i s h people during Mary's
"
-. -- ---
upbringing r e c o i l e d i n horror from t h e i r hopes of
the 1790's.-
This chapter intends t o show t h a t Mary's
.h..
ambivalence permeates the novel.
_^. _%
--
- --- .--I
".--.-__.--.-
wrote of h e r s e l f :
l'I
I
-
_>__
In 1815, she
.
never quarrel with inconsis-
tency. "lo over twenty years l a t e r , sf t e r her writing
had begun t o tamper and preach, and her ideas had
\\
J
become reactionary against the ttRadicalstt, she s t i l l
described h e r s e l f a s an ambivalent type:
\
',
---
i
t\
,
> 1
r
,
i '
In the f i r s t place, with regard to "the good
causen--the cause of the advancement of f r e e dom and knowledge, of the r i g h t s o f women,
&c.--I am not a person of opinions...
Some
have a passion f o r reforming the world;
o t h e r s do not c l i n g t o p a r t i c u l a r opinions.
That my parents and Shelley were of the former
c l a s s , maKes me respect i to.. I hsve not
argumentative poNers; I see things p r e t t y
c l e a r l y , b u t cannot demonstrate them. Besides,
I feel the counter-arg-.
1 do not f e e l t h a t 1 could say aught t o support
the cause e f f i c i e n t l y . (my i t s l i c s ) . 11
To p u t t h i s another way: when Shelley wanted t o c r e a t e
h i s v i s i o n regarding the struggle between the redeeming
r e b e l and the e v i l t y r a n t , he was s b l e t o polarize
the two i n t o Prometheus who i s "exempt from the
t a i n t s of ambition, envy, revenge, and a d e s i r e
b'
6
$
-1
,
d
I
,I . ,
i
i
I
i
j
!
9.
L'
i
f o r personal
and J u p i t e r who i s t h e
s o c i a l status-quo i n a l l i t s o p p r e s s i v e n e s s and,
worst of a l l , i n i t s .And-deceiving o r d e r by which
'.--c-
@ ' a l l b e s t thingb a r e thus confused t o ill. 11'3
diary
.*"_
_-
?
l e t s t h r e e n a r r a t o r s speak, and a l l o f them image,
J
i
i
i n v a r i o u s shades and d e g r e e s , h e r own mind which
i
h a s S h e l l e y ' s two p o l e s f o r e v e r i n t e r m i n g l e d w i t h i n
itself.
'-
I
-,&"
/
T h i s c h a p t e r i n t e n d s t o show thib mainly,?+/')
by emphasizing how, though the v i n d i c a t i o n of the most
1
wronged "wretch", i s s e t up a s reasonable by Mary,
,
i t is, a t t h e same time, p e r p e t u a l l y undercut even
by t h e C r e a t u r e ' s own c o n t r a d i c t o r y a t t i tudes.
/\,:
1
3
# ,
/, -
The word "wretch"is used mainly because i t i s the
one most f r e q u e n t l y used by the C r e a t u r e f o r himself
and by V i c t o r f o r himself a f t e r h i s " f a l l " ,
Itwretch"
h a s t h r e e meanings which o v e r l a p and r e i n f o r c e i t s
appropriateness:
1) one d r i v e n out of o r away from h i s n a t i v e
country; a banished person; an e x i l e , an
outc2st.
2 ) one who i s sunk i n deep d i s t r e s s , sorrow, m i s f o r t u n e of poverty; a m i s e r a b l e , unhappy o r
u n f o r t u n a t e person.
3) one who i s of v i l e , opprobious o r r e p r e h e n s i b l e
c h a r a c t e r ; a contemptible c r e h t u r e .
rWe
n o t e , even i n the development of the word, how
..J
FGC
f ,
?i
becoming e x i l e d f r o m cormunity i s r e l a t e d f i r s t to
I
,
misery, b u t a l s o i s Somehow judged morally v i l e ,
.
I
***
P
1 n t h e 1818 Preface t o F r a n k e n s t e i n , S h e l l e y ,
p r e t e n d i n g t o be Mary, w i s e l y warned t h a t no i n f e r e n c e
Was t o be drawn from the novel " a s p r e j u d i c i n g any
p h i l o s o p h i c a l d o c t r i n e of whatever kind,..";
however,
he then went on t o claim t h a t i t s chief concern
was
the e x h i b i t i o n of t h e amiablenese of domestic
and t h e e x c e l l e n c e of u n i v e r s a l virtue,''
I n h i s "revieww o f F r a n k e n s t e i n , published w i t h
h i a posthumous p a p e r s , he thought " t h e p i c t u r e s
of domestic manners a r e of the most simple and
attaching character: the f a t h e r ' s
and deep.
1814
is irresistible
And obviously, a l l t h r e e n a i n
r a t o r s do c o n s t a n t l y p r a i s e the v i r t u e s of those
k
more s e t t l e d than they s r e , and of t e n long t o be
p a r t of t h i s comfortable b l i s s .
But the bulanc
Jf-
needs r e d r e s s i n g because even from V i c t o r ' s g u l l t -
r i d d e n n a r r a t i o n , though he r e p e a t e d l y c l a i m s t o
b e l i e v e i n t h e same good a s t h e f a t h e r , t h e r e emerge8
t
!
i,
\
an undercurrent of questioning of the j u s t i c e of
the f a t h e r ' s order and that of virtuous Geneva
cannot be ignored.
that
Although Victor emphasizes
the " s p i r i t of kindness and indulgence" with which
he was brought up, and t h a t h i s parents "were not
the t y r a n t s t o r u l e our l o t according t o t h e i r
caprice, but the agents and c r e a t o r s of a l l the many
d e l i g h t s which we enjoyedtt (F: 11, k l ) , Victor
himself, l e a r n s e a r l y t h a t soae of h i s joys--in
case reading Cornelius Agrippa--are
this
r e j e c t e d by
h i s f a t h e r as a waste of t i n e , a s "sad trash";
therefore, he hides p a r t of h i s a c t i v i t y .
Alphonse Frankenstein's one chance to narrate
h i s viewpoint, a l e t t e r , confirms v i c t o r ' s f e a r s of
h i s propensity t o maintain a tranquil r a i i o n a l surface no matter what pain o r chaos brews beneath.
L i t t l e William has just been b r u t a l l y murdered:
rI
\,
i
Come, Victor; not brooding thoughts of vengeance
against the a s s a s s i n , but with the f e e l i n g s
of peace and gentleness, t h a t w i l l h e a l , instead
of f e s t e r i n g , the wounds of our minds (F: VII,
r
:
I
I
,
f
'
14
i
t
~,i ;
Y
I
A s his s e c r e t s become more complex, Victor i s ever
aware how far beyond h i s f a t h e r ' s homey morality
h i s behaviour has gone.
When innocent J u s t i n e i s
I,
l
about t o be convicted, Alphonse consoles Elizabeth:
",.*dry your eyes*
If she i s , as you believe,
innocent, r e l y on the j u s t i c e of o u r laws and the
a c t i v i t y with which I s h a l l prevent the s l i g h t e s t
ahadow of p a r t i a l i t y . "
(F: V I I , 83).
-
J u s t i n e , now
one of the o u t c a s t s , i s even b u l l i e d t o confess i n
order t o avoid excon;:cunication; the cornmuni ty seem
content t o rest on her l i e .
B
Victor repeatedly doeb
not dare conf'ide i n h i s ''deep" f a t h e r f o r f e a r of
being named "insane".
After the death of Clerval,
-
*
the f a t h e r p r e f e r s t o t h i n k of Victor a s ill from
e r i e f ; when Victor t r i e s t o confess h i s g u i l t i n
the deaths; he answers :
"My d e a r e s t Victor, what i n f a t u r a t i o n i s t h i s ?
.,.
My dear son. I e n t r e a t you never t o make
He i n s t a n t l y
such an a s s e r t i o n againat'
changed the subject o f our conversation and
endeavoured to a l t e r the course of my thoughts.
(P: XXII, 187)
%hat Victor was r i g h t t o f e a r h i s f a t h e r ' s r e a c t i o n
becomes evident a f t e r the f a t h e r ' s death when Victor '
f i n a l l y goes before a judge and asks help i n deatroying the monster:
But t o a
occupied
devotion
had much
Genevan magistrate, whose mind was
by f a r other ideas than those of
and heroism, t h i s elevation of min4
the appearance of madnees. He en-
- ,
t
deavoured t o soothe me as a nuroe does a c h i l d ,
and r e v e r t e d t o my t a l e a s the e f f e c t s of
delirium,
"Man," I c r i e d , "how i g n o r a n t a r t thou i n
thy p r i d e of wisdom! c e a s e ; you know n o t
what i t i s you say." (F: XXIII, 201; my i t a l i c s ) ,
This l a s t indictment c e r t a i n l y i n c l a d e s the t r u t h
of h i s f a t h e r ,
J
Thus, though V i c t o r t e l l s h i s t a l e t o Vialton in
!
b e l i e v e s h i s n a t i v e town t o be t h e world, than he
\
1
I
sllow" (F: I V , 86), ~ a r 'yc o n s t a n t l y undermines her
/
--.
\
,
-
own d i d a c t i c i s m .
..----
-
T h i s i s made c l e a r by t h e fol-
b r i e f contrs;ting
quote taken from Ann Red-
c l i f f e ' s MYsteries of U d o l ~ h o . Radcliff'e chooses
t h e omniscient p o i n t of view, and ends the novel
with:
u s e f u l may i t be t o h:3ve shewn, t h a t ,
though t h e v i c i o u s can sometines pour aff l i c t i o n upon t h e good, t h e i r power is t r a n s i e n t and t h e i r punishnent c e r t a i n ; and t h a t
innocence, though oppressed by i n j u s t i c e ,
s h a l l , supported by p a t i e n c e , f i n a l l y triumph
over misfortune, 15
O!
Not only is t h i s moral law f u l l y o p e r a t i v e i n t h e
novel, b u t S t , Aubert, the f a t h e r of J h i l y , i s i t s
I 1
I
o r d e r t o teach "how much h a p p i e r t h a t man is who
who a s p i r e 6 t o b e c o ~ eg r e a t e r than h i 8 n a t u r e w i l l
I
-
\
voice.
The v i l l a i n , Montoni, i s r e l e n t l e s s l y wicked;
Emily never f a l t e r s through a l l h e r h o r r i f y i n g
t r i a l s ; and V a l l a n c o u r t , h e r t r u e l o v e , who appears
t o have been i n d i s c r e e t d u r i n g much of the novel,
never r e a l l y was.
The novel ends r e t u r n i n g Emily
and V a l l a n c o u r t t o t h e f a t h e r ' s i d e a l of happinese
which e x i s t e d a t the beginning:
After s u f f e r i n g under the o p p r e s s i m of the
v i c i o u s and t h e d i s d a i n of t h e weak, they
were, a t l e n g t h , r e s t o r e d t o each other-t o the beloved landscapes of t h e i r n a t i v e
country,--to the s e c u r e s t f e l i c i t y of the
l i f e , t h a t of a s p i r i n g t o moral and l a b o u r i n g
f o r i n t e l l e c t u a l improvement--to the p l e a s u r e s of e n l i g h t e n e d s o c i e t y , and t o the
e x e r c i s e of t h e benevolence, which had always
animated t h e i r h e a r t s ; while the bowers of
La V a l l e e becaae , once more, the r e t r e a t of
goodness, wisdom and domes tic blessedness. 1 6
There i s no such simple defence of domestic f e l i c i t y
i n Frankenstein: the f a t h e r ' s advice i s t o o narrow;
the l o v e r , V i c t o r , i s g u i l t y ; t h e v i l l a i n , the
-/P.
.
_C__
C r e a t u r e , i s a s sinned a g a i n s t as s i n n i n g ; and
-
_CI_-
t h e one who r e t u r n s r o domestic t r a n q u i l i t y a t t h e
end, Walton, does s o w i t h b i t t e r reluctance./
-
--
,
More-
over, sweet E l i z a b e t h , t h e g u a r d i a n of what ehe
c a l l s the "immutable laws" of "our p l a c i d home and
;
js"..
1)
l
our contented h e s r t s " (F: V I , 6 7 ) , i s s c t u a l l y
b r u t a l l y murdered.
Furthermore, a l l f i v e of t h e s e
'
c h a r a c t e r s , though two only i n b r i e f l e t t e r s , g e t
a chance t o n a r r a t e t h e i r viewpoint i n what & i n g l e
h a s termed "a s e r i e s 02 i n t e r l o c k e d dramatic monologuee.
ttl
L
' i
i
1
iI
j
7
From t h e n a r r a t i v e of V i c t o r F r a n k e n s t e i n , h i s
beloved E l i z a b e t h emerges a s t h a t p r e d i c t a b l e f e -
male e n t i t y which i s 1 o v e l i e s t . w h e n devoted t o h e r
family,
Here i s one of many examples of h i s p r a i s e :
Wever was she so enchanting a s a t t h i s time Lcaroline
Frankenstein had j u s t died] when she r e c a l l e d t h e
sunshine of h e r s m i l e s snd s p e n t them upon us,
She
f o r g o t even h e r own r e g r e t i n h e r endeavour t o make
us forget.It
(I?:
111, 48).
I n a novel which g i v e s
t h e f e e l i n g s of t h r e e msle n a r r a t o r s , E l i z a b e t h
a r t i c u l a t e s h e r a t t i t u d e s i n only two b r i e f l e t t e r s ,
I n b o t h c a s e s , though V i c t o r h a s abandoned her,-the f i r s t time f o r s i x y e a r s of study i n Ingol-
s t a d t and the second, f o r t ~ yoe a r s of t r a v e l h e r f i r s t concern i s h i s well-being, s i n c e he a l s o
f e l l gravely ill d u r i n g both s e y a r a t i o n s from .
h i s home.
I n t h e f i r s t l e t l i e r , she shows no d i r e c t
\
r,
7
p
s i g n of a n x i e t y about h e r own s t a t e , b u t does
w r i t e h e r s e l f " i n t o b e t t e r s p i r i t s I 1 by r e c o u n t i n g
the g o s s i p about the "good people of Genevat', a l l
of which concerns which 3 r e t t y ( o r ugly) woman
married which prosperoue ( o r u n f o r t u n a t e ) man.
She even mentions t h s t sweet l i t t l e William a l r e a d y
p r e f e r s one f i v e y e a r o l d a s h i s llwifeM (F: V I , 69-70).
I n t h e second l e t t e r , she c o n f r o n t s the i s s u e .
i s by now around twenty-five;
She
i t seems she h a s been
too cowardly" t o b r i n g up t h i s matter b e f o r e ; y e t
she h a s had a l l h e r hopes i n t h i s " f a v o r i t e plan"
of h i s p a r e n t s .
With c h a r a c t e r i s t i c ! ' d i s i n t e r e s t e d
a f f e c t i o n v , as she c a l l s i t , she says she w i l l be
t r a n q u i l even i f he does n o t marry h e r s o long a s
he i s happy (F: X X I I , 168-85).
Mary h e r s e l f probably admired ~ l i z a b e t h ' s
r a t i o n a l c o n t r o l of h e r feel in,^.
\
Andre Maurois,
one of S h e l l e y ' s b i o g r a p h e r s , c e r t a i n l y d i s l i k e d
of any...t8
~ a r y ' so w n * ~ o d w i n e s ~ ulac^
e
emotions. i8
6
i
And i f we doubt t h a t h e r f a t h e r a c t u a l l y encouraged
j2
4
h e r t o r e p r e s s h e r f e e l i n g s , we need only look t o
one of h i s l e t t e r s t o h e r , w r i t t e n when she was
g r i e f - s t r i c k e n i n 1819 a f t e r the d e a t h of h e r two-
year-old son, William.
(She had a l r e a d y l o s t h e r
two o t h e r s , Clara and the un-named i n f a n t ) :
You must, however, allow me t h e p r i v i l e g e of
a f a t h e r , and a philoboyher, i n e x p o s t u l a t i n g
with you on t h i s depression.
I cannot b u t
c o n s i d e r i t a s lowering your c h a r a c t e r i n
a memorable d e g r e e , and p u t t i n g you q u i t e
among the commonality and mob of your s e x ,
when I had thought I saw i n you symptoms
e n t i t l i n g you t o be ranked among those noble
s p i r i t s t h a t do honour t o our nature.
What
a f a l l i n g o f f is herae! How b i t t e r l y i s s o
change t o be deplored..,
(my
In his
Enauiry concerning P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e , Godwin
s i m i l a r l y emphasizes the v i r t u e of " d i s i n t e r e s t e d
benevolence".
20
Only t h e J u s t i n e i n c i d e n t d e p i c t s E l i z a b e t h
.d
i n any moral s t r u g g l e t o maintain equanimity.
Swingle p o i n t s out t h a t though b l i z a b e t h i s more
aware than C l e r v a l of " t h e u n s e t t l i n g question..
I
.
,
,'
j
;
+-
of whether human thoughts conform t o t h e n a t u r e of
things", and though, when J u s t i n e i s executed, i t
I
o c c u r s t o h e r t h a t r r f a l ~ e h o o can
d
look s o l i k e t h e
t r u t h r t , E l i z a b e t h draws b u c ~from t h e abyss, from
Pacing T r u t h , t o taKe comfort i n the "sharedw t r u t h :
"1 f e e l she was innocent; you a r e of t h e same opinion,
and that confirms me.rr2'
I n f a c t , she immediately
@
rouses herself out of these painful questions becsuw
she sees Victor-.-.
s u f f e r a s a r e s u l t of her doubts,
',
._
-"?
I
i.
\a
and devotes h e r s e l f again to rendering him happy,
------.- -- - thus renewing her
C
r
p q i k as conserver of the "immutable
laws" of "our placid bo.~a,&
QU
can.kand.ed.hearts",
Yet, i n both the 1818 and 1831 e d i t i o n s ,
Elizabeth h e r s e l f begins a s an orphan who i s redeemed
i n t o society and i s e n t i r e l y vulnerable, dependent
on the F r a n ~ e n s t e i n sf o r her hapyinese.
In 1818,
she 18 rescued from the f a t e p a r t i c u l ~ r l ywretched
t o the author, that o f being brought up by a step-
.
mother 22
I n 1831, she i s "an orphan and a beggar , I t
b u t not r e a l l y one of the w r e ~ c h e s , since she i s
such a beauty "of a d i s t i n c t species, a being heavensent and bearing a c e l e s t i a l stamp i n a l l her
features", and though i n a "rude abode" among "darkeyed hardy l i t t l e vagrsnts", she i s a c t u a l l y the
daughter of a Viennese nobleman (F: I , 38).
The
same p a t t e r n of the socially-redeemed female occurs
i n Caroline, the mother, who was found by Alphonse
Frankenstein #'an orphan and a beggar" (again b e a u t i f u l )
a s she k n e l t by her f a t h e r ' s c o f f i n I1weeping b i t t e r l y *
(F: I , 3 6 ) .
Alphonse married her i n t o prosperity,
\
1
6
and even k i d t h e " h i s t o r i c a l 1 ' moment of t h e i r meeting
made i n t o a p a i n t i n g which hangs over the mantelp i e c e i n the l i b r a r y (F: V I I , 80).
C a r o l i n e , then
one of t h e happy, became " t h e g u a r d i a n angel of
the a f f l i c t e d t t o f t e n e n t e r i n g t h e c o t t a g e s of t h e
poor (F: I , 32), and l a t e r educated J u s t i n e i n t o
the f a m i l y (F: V I , 68).
That J u s t i n e was worthy
o f h e r choice shows i n J u s t i n e ' s r e a c t i o n t o h e r
u n j u s t sentence t o d i e .
Here she c o n s o l e s E l i z a -
beth: "Learn from me, d e a r l a d y , t o submit i n
p a t i e n c e t o the w i l l of heaven."
(F: V I I I , 90).
Agatha and S a f i e a r e a l s o e v e r - f o r g i v i n g , s o c i a l l y v u l n e r a b l e women.
As f l a t a s she msy be t o us, E l i z a b e t h i a
t o V i c t o r h i s moral h a l f ( o r s o c i a l h a l f , s i n c e
V i c t o r never i m p l i e s any good beyond the s o c i a l ) .
A s a c h i l d , she i s g i v e n a s "a p r e t t y preaent"
t o him and he c l ~ i m sh e r a s h i s c r e a t u r e (F: I , 39).
L a t e r , "she Was the l i v i r A g s p i r i t of l o v e t o s o f t e n
and a t t r a c t : I m i g h t b e c o ~ es u l l e n i n my s t u d y ,
rough through the ardour of my n a t u r e , b u t t h a t
she was t h e r e t o subdue me t o a semblance of her
own gentleness."
(F: 11, 42).
But t h e l i m i t e t i o n e
of h e r l o v e a r e apparent when V i c t o r , the c u r i o u s mind,
a t t e m p t s t o go beyond t h e pale.
When he becomes
i n t e r e s t e d i n alchemy, he h a s t o withdraw from her.
(In the 1816 e d i t i o n , he c o n f i d e s i n h e r , b u t she
takes no i n t e r e s t . )
*'
Throughout the novel,
he
-
e x p r e s s e s h i s remoree and - s e l f - h u t r e d - i n terms of
-
-
-
h i s a n t i - s o c i a l withdrawal f r o n the ones he should
--
-
-
have loved, e x p e c i a l l y Elizubeth; a s S c h e l e r h a s
s a i d , the f a i l u r e t o l o v e i s g u i l t , 24
I n h e r childhood, Mary experienced t h r e e
l i f e a l t e r n a t i v e s : t'the well-ordered,
cheerful family
life of t h e Baxterstt of Scotland where Mary s p e n t
h e r e a r l y teens; the "Bohemianism" of ~ o d w i n ' s
community of Skinner
tree tZ5; and h e r v o l u n t a r y
retreat from both of these i n t o her own wakingdreams.
I n Scotland, she escaped i n t o the "eyry ( s i c )
of freedom1' i n s o l i t a r y walks on the d r e a r y shoree
near Dundee ( s e e h e r 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n t o wankenstein);
back i n London, h e r r e f u g e f r o n o t h e r people was
h e r mother'e grave i n S t . Pancras cemetery,
Qodwin "family" was somewhat i r r e g u l a r from
The
it6
out-
s e t ; Qodwin brought i n t o hi^ second marriage two
g i r l s : one Fanny, t h e daughter of Wollstonecraf t
and h e r l o v e r , G i l b e r t Imlay and the o t h e r , Mary,
h i s own dauyhter by R o l l s t o n e c r a f t who d i e d j u s t
a f t e r the b i r t h .
Mary J a n e Clairmont, who passed
h e r s e l f off a s a widow, brought two c h i l d r e n , Charles
and Jane.
The f i f t h c h i l d , k i l l i a l r , , wab the only
c h i l d i n the family who had two p a r e n t s l i v i n g i n
the house.
Mary's d i s l i ~ ef o r h e r step-mother i s
well-known,
and perhaps the d i s a g r e e a b l e r i v a l r y
between the two prompted Godwin t o send h i s young
Mary away t o l i v e w i t h the s t a b l e Baxter family
f o r a time.
Rieger s p e c u l a t e s t h a t n o s t a l g i a f o r
the S a x t e r ' s "bourgeois t r a n q u i l i t y " i s r e f l e c t e d i n
the p o r t r a y a l of t h e F r a n k e n s t e i n and C l e r v a l famil i e a . 26
~ a r y ' sown f m i l y , i n s p i t e of Godnin's and
Mary ~ane's e f f o r t s , was n o t wholly respec t a b l e ,
and Godwin himself wae s u b j e c t t o a l l k i n d s of
u n f a i r a t t a c k s ; f o r e x m p l e , i n 1801, he was accused
p u b l i c l y of f a v o u r i n g i n f a n t i c i d e :
There i s a settled and s y s t e m a t i c a l p l a n
i n c e r t a i n 2ersons t o render me a n o b j e c t
of h o r r o r arid a v e r s i o n t o my fellow-men.
27
H a z l i t t best d e s c r i b e s ~ o d w i n ' b f a l l Lo infsmy and
then o b l i v i o n :
The S p i r i t of the Aye was never more f u l l y
shown than i n i t s treatment of t h i s w r i t e r i t s l o v e of paradox and change, i t s d a s t a r d
submission t o p r e j u d i c e and t o the f a s h i o n
of t h e day, Five-and-twenty y e a r s ago he
was i n t h e very z e n i t h of a s u l t r y and un*,
aholesorne p o p u l a r i t y ; he blazed a s a sun i n
the firmament of r e p u t a t i o n ; no one Was more
t a l k e d o f , more looked up t o , more sought
af'ter, and wherever l i b e r t y , t r u t h , j u s t i c e was
the theme, h i s ntune was n o t f a r o f f . Now he
was s u m belovr the h o r i z o n , and e n j o y s the
serene t w i l i g h t of a d o u b t f u l immortality.
M r , Godwin, during h i e l i f e t i m e , h a s secured
t o himself t h e triumphant m o r t i f i c a t i o n of
a n extreme n o t o r i e t y and a s o r t of posthumous
fame,..
F a t a l reverse! Is t r u t h s o v a r i a b l e ?
Is i t a t a burning h e a t i n 1793, and
below z e r o i n 1814? 2 8
t
..,
A f t e r Godwin published h e r lflernoira ( r e v e a l i n g t h e
d e t a i l s of h e r p r i v a t e l i f e ) , t h e name of Mary
W o l l s t o n e c r a f t , Mary S h e l l e y ' s mother, became synonymous with p h i l o s o p h i c a l and moral wantonness. 29
-
Vihen she was n o t y e t seven teen y e a r s of age,
8'
Mary chose t o l i v e according t o the s p i r i t of
W o l l s t o n e c r a f t and t h e philosophy of Qodwin by
e l o p i n g witn an a t h e i s t , who a l s o happened t o be
d
a married man, Shelley. (They took C l a r e Clairmontj
i
Mary knew S h e l l e y was seduced by t h e
with them.)
;
very i d e a of her: the o f f s p r i n g of such n g l o r i o u e
t
/I
j
P
i
.
&
I
*
parentst1.30 They had t h e i r f i r s t love-meetings
---,
\.
\'
on t h e g r a v e of Wollstonecraf t .
Mary w i l l i n g l y
\
became a s o c i a l o u t c a s t ; however, she Was unprepared
f o r r e j e c t i o n by h e r f a m i l y snd f r i e n d s who supposedl y shared h e r i d e a s .
t
1
Qodwin r e f u s e d t o have anything
t o do w i t h h e r f o r h e r v i o l a t i o n of s o c i a l r e s p e c t a b i 1 i t y . j
i
Mary p r o t e c t e d h e r s e l f somewhat by blaming h e r
atep-mo t h e r :
I d e t e s t Mrs Qodwin; she plagues my f a t h e r o u t
of h i s l i f e ; and then--well no matter--Why
w i l l n o t Qodwin follow the obvious bent of
h i s a f f e c t i o n s & be reconciled t o us--no
h i s p r e j u d i c e s , the k o r l d and &--do
you
n o t h a t e h e r my love- 31
I n s p i t e of n i s c a u t i o n , rurnour s t i l l had i t t h a t
Godwin had s o l d h i s two daughters. 32
half-sister,
Fanny, ~ a r y ' a
was par titularly devoted t o h e r " f a t h e r w ,
and, i n obedience t o Godwin's wishes, refused t o
communicate w i t h h e r r e b e l s i s t e r .
behaviour
It
.
s l a v i s h " 33
Her b e s t f r i e n d , I s a b e l
Baxter, who supposedly "adored...
mo t h e r t t34
Mary termed her
the shade of my
broke o f f h e r f r i e n d s h i p with Mary on
t h e i n s i s t e n c e of h e r f i a n c g .
"~h!Isabel; I did
not think you would a c t thus,tt Mary wrote. 35
ilary's
disappointment a t being spurned is expressed d i r e c t l y
I
i
--.
only i n a few muted comnents: ("oh! philosophy!"
- oodwin's
'
against
4
narrow behaviour) a6 she i s comforted by
,-1
h e r community with Shelley and w i t h t h e w r i t i n g s of,
t
- h e r mother and f a t h e r (as h e r r e a d i n g l i s t f o r
( \I :
1614 c l e a r l y s h o ~ s . ) ~ ' She i s a b l e a t t h i s time
t o sul3limate h e r confused r e a c t i o n s i n t o the f a b r i c
'
When she died j u s t a f t e r g i v i n g b i r t h t o Mary
S h e l l e y , Mary ~ o b s t o n e c r a f twas working on a novel
which Godwin l a t e r p u t t o g e t h e r and published a s
wrong^
-
3
r'
of Frankenstein*
Maria o r the
j
*
of Viornan.
What i s uncanny about
one long s e c t i o n of the fragment i s t h a t a mother,
Maria, a d d r e s s e s i t t o h e r daughter because she
fears she w i l l d i e before she i s a b l e t o l o v e
and educate her i n f a n t :
Addressing thebe memoirs t o you, my c h i l d ,
u n c e r t a i n whether I s h a l l e v e r have an$ opport u n i t y of i n s t r u c t i n g you, which only a motherDeath
schooled i n a i b e r y , could make..
may snuLch a e from you, b e f o r e you can weigh
my a d v i c e , o r e n t e r i n t o my reasoning,..
37
.
Maria r e c o u n t s the i n j u s t i c e s of h e r l i f e ( t h e
o u t l i n e of which i s h i g h l y s u g d e s t i v e of Nollstonec r a f t ' s own l i L e j , i n o r d e r t o p r e p a r e h e r daughter
f o r the i l l s she iriu~tencounter i n a world Which is
8
W a s t prison''
f o r women who a r e born s l a v e s . 38
Though W o l l s t o n e c r a f t could n o t have f o r e s e e n t h a t
she would be s n tched
~
away f r o n h e r d a u g h t e r s , Mary
Shelley must have f e l t the d i r e c t n e s s of ~ a r i a ' s
a d d r e s s e s t o the daughter she would never s e e ,
bequeathing the s t r u g g l e a g a i n s t tyramy
t o her,
One c h a r a c t e r e s p e c i a l l y seems t o have reached h e r ,
Amidst a whole rande of female "outlaws of the
worldw,39 Jemima i s the u l t i r a t e i n outcasts: b a s t a r d ,
orphan, pauper, pros t i t u i e , c r i m i n a l , "hunted from
hole t o h o l e , a s i f sne had been a b e a s t of prey
o r i n f l i c t e d w i t h a moral plague. 1140 When Jemirne
i s g i v e n t h e chance t o n a r r a Le h e r own s t o r y , the
v i t a l j u s t i c e of h e r rage a g a i n s t the e x c l u s i v e n e s s
of ~ o c itey becomes e v i d e n t :
The chicken h a s a wing t o s h e l t e r under; b u t
I had no bosom t o n e s t l e i n , no kindred warmth
t o f o s t e r me. L e f t i n d i r t , t o c r y w i t h c o l d
and hunger t i l l I was weary, and s l e e p without
ever being prepared by e x e r c i s e , o r l u l l e d
by kindness t o r e s t ; could I be expected t o
becoae any t h i n g b u t a weak and r i c k e t y babe?
S t i l l i n s p i t e of n e g l e c t , 1 continued t o e x i s t ,
t o l e a r n t o c u r s e e x i s t e n c e , ( h e r countenance
grew f e r o c i o u s a s she s p o ~ e )and t h e treatment
t h a t rendered me m i s e r a b l e , seemed t o sharpen
my w i t s , . .
No wonder then, t r e a t e d l i k e a
c r e s t u r e of a n o t h e r s p e c i e s , t h a t I began t o
envy and a t l e n g t h t o hate...
I wae a n egg
dropped on the sand; a pauper by n a t u r e ,
hunted from f a m i l y to f a m i l y , who belonged
t o no one--and nobody cared f o r me. 1 was
despised from m j b i r t h , and denied t h e chance
of o b t a i n i n g u f o o t i n g f o r myself i n s o c i e t y .
Yes; 1 had n o t even the chance of being cons i d e r e d a s a f e l l o h creature-- 41
\------~.
We look i n v a i n f o r t h i s tone of f i e r c e outrage i n t h e females of P r a m e n s t e i n ;
i
i
I
there is not
i
a t r a c e of i t i n the " g e n t l e n e s s , d o c i l i t y and spaniel-:
i
I
I
l i k e a f f e c t i o n " of E l i z s b e th o r i n the wronged
J u s t i n e . 42
i
But i n t h e % e n t u r e , we f i n d a worthy
^
**n._--
i
-
.i
descendant of Jemims, t h e p a s s i o n a t e voice of rage
I
p r o t e s t i n g h i s exclusion from s o c i e t y and h i s loneli-(;/
,
I
-
i
ness.
Like Jemima, he i s by n a t u r e benevolent b u t
1.(
t
";
,
, :
xT
1
is forced t o h i s c r i m i n a l i t y by i n j u s t i c e . 43
~ a r y :i
S h e l l e y ' s d e c i s i o n t o make the Creature male does
,I
n o t v i o l a t e the s p i r i t of Wollstonecraft s i n c e i t
i s c l e a r from tne "dedicution'' t o Talleyrand i n
V i n d i c a t i o n of the Rights of Koman t h a t h e r arguments
f o r woman's r i g h t s and d u t i e s a r e f o r a l l humans,
and
- a r e - p a r t of h e r coi~imitment t o a war a g a i n s t
-. .
.
a l l forms of s o c i a l tyranny.
But a1 though, as I
s h a l l demonstrate, the c r e a t u r e speaks i n t h e s p i r i t
of Wo3lstonecrsft, i t needs then t o be shown t h a t
everywhere t h i s s p i r i t i s q u a l i f i e d by t h e c a u t i o n
I
/
doubt8 of Mary Shelley's own a t t i t u d e s and
temperament*
I n f a c t , Mary's c r e a t u r e a l s o resembles Qodwin's
f i c t i o n a l c r e a t i o n , Caleb
W i l l i i 3 m ~ .
A s B r a i l f ord
I
i""
I
has pointed o u t , Mdry embodies i n her novel a
I
*i
t y p i c a l Oodwinian e i t u a t i o n wnich s e t s up tension
B
between a victim and s o c i a l tyranny:
t
i
I
<
f
~ o d w ~ n 'irn.igination
s
WnS haunted b y a pers i s t e n t niightmare, i n which u lonely indiv i d u a l f i n d s arrayed a g a i n s t him all the
pre judicea of s o c i e t y , a l l forms of convention,
all the f o r c e s of law...
I t was a h e r e d i t a r y
n i g h t a w e , and ~i th less p e d e s t r i a n imagination,
h i s daughter, Mary Shelley, used the aame
theme of a remorseless purauit i n fiankenstqiQ. 4.4
But l i k e Qodwin, Mary a l s o understands t h a t kind
of painful d i v i s i o n we f i n d i n Caleb's mind when he
i s faced with the choice between f o r c i n g h i s o l d
f r i e n d C o l l i n s t o consider the t r u t h t h a t h i s virtuous msster, Falkland, i s s murderer, and thereby
v i n d i c a t i n g h i s own honour a t l e a s t i n the mind
of one man, o r l e t t i n g the old man keep his happy illusions.
C o l l i n s argues a g ~ i n s th i s demand f o r a
hearing :
kmhatj u s t i c e ?
innocence?...
The j u s t i c e of proclaiming your
But I do not b e l i e v e I shall
f i n d you innocent. If you even succeed i n
p e r p l e x i n g my understanding, you w i l l n o t
i s the 6 bate
succeed i n e n l i g h t e n i n g i t .
of mankind, t h a t innocence, when involved i n
circumstances of s u s p i c i o n , c a n s c a r c e l y e v e r
make o u t a demonstration of i t s p u r i t y ; and
g u i l t can o f t e n make us f e e l a n insurmountable
r e l u c t a n c e t o t h e pronouncing i t g u i l t ,
Meanwhile, f o r the purchase of this u n c e r t a i n t y , I must s a c r i f i c e a l l t h e remaining comforts
of my l i f e , , . 45
Caleb d e c i d e s t h s t i t would be a v i c e t o i n v o l v e
C o l l i n s i n h i s own s u f f e r i n g s , but he g o e s on t o
decide t o e n t r u s t the p a p e r s on which h e has w r i t t e n
the t a l e of h i s innocence t o o l d C o l l i n s .
It is
while Caleb i s p u t t i n g all h i s hopes and e f f o r t s
i n t o p r e s e r v i n g h i s v i n d i c s t i o n of h i s innocence,
that h e r e a l i z e s t h a t Falkland i s probably t r y i n g
t o do t h e same thing by h i d i n g h i s own w r i t t e n
v i n d i c a t i o n of h i s murder of Ayrrel i n the trunk
Caleb had t r i e d t o b r e u i n t o :
I once thought i t contained s o w murderous
instrument o r r e l i c connected with t h e f a t e
of the unhagpy T y r r e l . I am now persuaded
t h a t t h e s e c r e t i t e n c l o s e s , is a f a i t h f u l
n a r r a t i v e of t h a t and i t s concornmi t u n t t r a n s a c t i o n s , w r i t t e n by Mr. F a l k l s n d , and r e s e r v e d
i n c a s e of t h e w o r s t , t h a t , i f by any unforeeeen event h i s g u i l t should come t o be f u l l y
d i s c l o s e d , i t might c o n t r i b u t e t o redeem t h e
wreck of h i s r e p u t a t i o n . 46
I n t h i s l i n e of r e f l e c t i o n , Caleb i s foreboding h i e
own r e v e r s a l of a t t i t u d e , of the P o s t s c r i p t of the
novel, i n which he i s able t o i d e n t i f y with Falkland
a s murderer and victim, and r e a l i z e how, i n both
t h e i r c a s e s , laudable i n t e n t i o n s turned i n t o destruct i v e vindictiveness.
or
f u r t h e r discussion of
the ambivalence shown i n Caleb Williamg, see chapter
two of t h i s t h e s i s ) ,
-
1.
The Greature is a l s o a t once the victim and
destroyer of the s o c i a l order ( a s i s Frankenstein),
On a simple l e v e l , the Creature can be seen a s V
P'S
a n t i - s o c i a l , i r r a t i o n a l s i d e , while blizabeth i s Vict o r ' s s o c i a l , r a t i o n a l side.
Indeed, Elizabeth
and the Creature are given interlocking f a t e s .
She f i r s t came to the family a s V i c t o r ' s n p r e t t y
presentN and he claimed her a s "mine1' (F: I , 39);
the Creature is v i c t o r ' s wspeciesll (F: W , 57).
-\
'bey ;
I
/
a r e r i v a l s f o r h i s a t t e n t i o n : when Victor becomes
obsessed with one, he ?bandons the other,
She r e a c t s
i
with reasonable p a s s i v i t y ; the Creature with murderous revenge.
Victor loves Elizabeth because she
is the p a r t of himself he has learned t o handle:
he w r i t e s c o n f i ~ e n t l ybefore t h e i r wedding when
he w i l l t e l l a l l h i s s e c r e t s :
"But u n t i l then, I
*
- ".
t
c o n j u r e you, do n o t mention o r ~ ~ l l u dt oe i t . . .
1 know you w i l l cornply (F: XXII, 191).
The C r e a t u r e
i s umonster,ll " f i e n d , " l l d e v i l t l t o V i c t o r because
he is n e i t h e r p r e d i c t a b l e nor c o n t r o l l a b l e ,
I/
Also,
i t is only s t t h e moment of h e r nurder t h a t t h e
C r e a t u r e comai ts h i n s e l f t o t ~ l l yt o e v i l :
I.
/'
, '
I
Then I was n o t miser:~ble. I had c y s t o f f
a l l f e e l i n g , s u b d u e d 311 ~ n g u i s h , t o r i o t
i n the e x t e s s of m y d e s p a i r . E v i l thencef o r t h became my good.
-
_
//
/>:
A$
, .
&-
However, t h e r e is a heikfieas i n s e e i n g n i r n merely
; 1?
a s ~ l i a a b th'8
e
counter-balance o r V i c t o r ' r " d e v i m t
1
I
t o be benevolent ~ ~ nonly
d g i v e s i n lo ~ n u l e f i c e n t
nil;..
1
I
s e l f "47 because throughout the novel he s t r u g g l e u
u r g e s t o revenge wrongs done t o
a
I ,
Though, on
-.
1
u'
-..
one hand, he a r g u e s vehenently f o r t h e j u s t i c e of h i s
tlcrirnestl; on the o t h e r h m d , he condemns h i r e e l f , show-
% ,
.
ing the e x t e n t t o which he a c q u i r e d h i 6 m o r s l percep-
i
t i o n s , a s w e l l a~ hi^. a b i l i t y t o speak 2nd r e n d , from
L;
eavesdropping on the DeL~lceyf m i l y .
Before he found
the t h r e e books he r e a d , " t h e c o t h g e o f my p r o t e c t o r
/
,p
a
,
had been the only school In ~ h i c hI hud s t u d i e d hu-
man nature."
:
'
. "
'
,
The S o r r o ~of~ G e r t h e r r e i n f o r c e d his
-
experience of t h e domestic g e n t l e n e s s of the c o t t a y e r s i
l
~lutarch's Lives m?de him abhor v i c e i n the arena
/
II
\
i
3
L."'
.
\
of public a f f a i r s ; only i n Paradise Lost did he f i n d
'i
t h a t though he t r i e d t o i d e n t i f y with Adam, Satan
5
was "the f i t t e r emblem of my condition" (F: XV,
i
.
't
i
1.3092)
Though h i s vindication and 6elf-prosecution
cannot be untangled from evch other i n the novel,
I s h a l l separate out the case f o r h i s defence.
,kc{;
-
'
i
~
F i r s t l y , h i s viewpoint c a s t s even f u r t h e r doubt
upon the "innocencew of h i s victims.
claims t o be the victim.
c i ,
t *
L
P
Indeed, he
,L*
1 ,
They a r e a l l s e l f - s a t i s - '
L,\:
f i e d partakers i n a s o c i a l system which thrivesor b e t t e r , which stagnates-on
,
excluding a l l wretches.
The Creature i s s o grotesque, t h a t , a s Shelley
implies, h i s r e j e c t i o n by such a society i s a
necessity:
'
\
He was an abortion and an anomaly; and though
h i s mind was such a s i t s f i r s t impressions
framed i t , a f f e c t i o n a t e and f u l l of moral
s e n s i b i l i t y , y e t the circumstances of h i s
existence a r e so monstrous znd uncommon,
t h a t , when the consequences of them became
developed i n a c t i o n , h i s o r i g i n a l goodness
was gradually turned i n t o inextinguishable
misanthropy and revenge. 48 '.
The other wretches:
6
'
the poor, the ugly, the criminal,
the f o r e i g n e r , the unmotherly women ( ~ u a t i n e ' smother),
/
I
i,/
, G'
/
.
.,1
j\, :
even t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l wretch, a r e a l l redeemable,
if they can conform.
,
. j Z
,
But, a s the C r e a t u r e recog-
n i z e s , Itthe human s e n s e s a r e insurmountable b a r r i e r s
,,-\
t o our union."
(F: X V I I , 147).
!
Y e t h i s c r i e s t o be
.
loved i n s p i t e of h i s a b s o l u t e wretchedness, a c t
..
' . I
%
'
a s a moral demand n o t only t h a t V i c t o r acknowledge
h i s c r e a t i o n b u t t h a t s o c i a l community be fluid
\
*
and dynamic, t h a t i t accommodate i t s e l f p e r p e t u a l -
i
,
l
*' t
\
l y t o the a b e r r a t i o n s o u t s i d e i t s " l o v e w , that i t
\
,,i
t
q+
1
To i n c l u d e the Monster, i n p r i n c i p l e ,
r
-*,
n o t c o n t e n t i t s e l f w i t h s t e r i l e and s e l e c t i v e i d e a s
demands an expansiveness of love.
',
!
\ \ '\ - '
s t r i v e t o be i n r e l a t i o n s h i p t o a l l the l i v i n g and
of community.
'
.
,
-/
,
Shelley t r i e d
t o d e f i n e such a l o v e i n h i s e s s a y "On Love'':
...
pove]
i s t h a t powerful a t t r a c t i o n toa r d a l l we conceive, o r f e a r , o r hope beyond
o u r s e l v e s , when we f i n d w i t h i n our own thought8
t h e chasm of a n i n s u f f i c e n t v o i d , and seek
t o awaken i n a l l t h i n g s t h a t a r e , a community
with what we expepience w i t h i n ourselves..
[Love].
i s t h e bond and the s a n c t i o n which
connects n o t only man w i t h man, b u t w i t h everyt h i n g which e x i s t s . 49
..
.
C
,
J
Whenever t h e C r e a t u r e r e a c h e s o u t t o man, he
i a met with f l i g h t o r v i o l e n t a t t a c k (except by
" b l i n d w ~ e L a c e y ) . V i c t o r '8 first d e s c r i p t i o n of
.t
'
,
J'
I
I
I
I-
+
32
him s u g g e e t s t h a t "new-born"
though he was, he t r i e d
-
t o make f r i e n d s :
He h e l d up t h e c u r t a i n of t h e bed; and h i s e y e s ,
i f eyes they may be c a l l e d , were f i x e d on
me. H i s jaws opened, and he m u ~ t e r e dsome
i n a r t i c u l a t e sounds, while a g r i n wrinkled
h i s cheeks. He might have spoken, b u t I d i d
n o t h e a r ; one hand s t r e t c h e d o u t , seemingly
t o d e t a i n me, b u t I escaped, and ruehed down
the s t a i r s . (F: V, 61).
,
+.
f
'
\
1
1
I
~ e r b
v i c t o r i s no l o n g e r a b l e t o r e p r e s s t h e horror-)
1/
he had fought t o overcome while c r e a t i n g the Creat u r a ; the s o c i a l s i d e of h i s psyche a s s e r t s i t s e l f
/'
I
+
\,
and he f l e e s the responsibility
of h i s c r e a t i v e n e s s . '.
-,
-
* .
>
i
The first. f e l l o w the C r e a t u r e meets, a shepherd,
r u n s o f f l e a v i n g a b r e a k f a s t , but) soon a whole
v i l l a g e d r i v e s hiat o u t with s t o n e s and missiles.
Despite t h i s , he does n o t d e c i d e t o g e t revenge
b u t i n s t e a d s e t s about t r y i n g t o make himself more
tolerable:
I formed i n my in~aginuLion a thousand p i c t u r e s
of p r e s e n t i n g myself t o them [ t h e cottagers],
and t h e i r r e c e p t i o n of me. I imagined t h a t
they would be d i s g u s t e d , u n t i l , by my g e n t l e
denleanor and c o n c i l i a t i n g words, I should
first win t h e i r favour, and a f t e r w a r d s their
love. These thoughts e x h i l a r a t e d me, and h e l d
me t o apply w i t h fresh ardour Lo t h e a c q u i r i n g
(F: X I I , 117).
of t h e a r t of language.
..
3
Even a f t e r h i s hopes a r e dashed when h i s Delacey
t 8 p r o t e c t o r s " r e p e l him--Agatha
f ~ i n t i n gi n h o r r o r
and F e l i x b e a t i n g him w i t h a s t i c k - - ,
and he has
burned down h i s " p a r a d i s e w c o t t a g e , and t h e r u s t i c
L
h a s wounded him though he saved a l i t t l e g i r l , t h e
-.
C r e a t u r e s t i l l approaches baby Willinm w i t h hope:
As I gazed on him, an i d e a s e i z e d me, t h a t
this l i t t l e c r e a t u r e W ~ unprejudiced,
B
and
had l i v e d too s h o r t a time t o have imbibed
a h o r r o r of deformity. I f , t h e r e f o r e , I
could s e i z e him, and educate him &ismy companion and f r i e n d , I should not be s o desol a t e i n t h i s peopled e a r t h .
(I?: X V I , 144).
..
ii
i
-
I
Unfortunately, William has a l r e a d y been t a u g h t
t o spurn t h e ugly--perhaps
by f a i r y t a l e i n d o c t r i n a * X'
3
t i o n by h i s s u r r o g a t e mother, Elizabeth-as
he c u r e e s
'
t h e C r e a t u r e a s "ogrew; perhaps i t i s n o t so odd
The c h i l d p a t h e t i c a l l y
I /Ah
Ii
that E l i z a b e t h c l a i m s "I have murdered my d a r l i n g
child!@@ (F: V I I , 75).
,/
,
.
,L
!
- ,
%
invokes t h e s o c i a l p r e s t i g e of h i s f a t h e r t o f r i g h t e n
/I
/
t h e C r e a t u r e and thus i s a l r e a d y a p a r t y t o t h e
id
,
'
s o c i e t y ' s intolerance.
Again, with r u t h l e ~ sl o g i c drawn from h i s
e x p e r i e n c e s , t h e C r e a t u r e connects Agatha , C a r o l i n e
and J u s t i n e (and l a t e r , E l i z a b e t h ) a s b e a u t i e s
who would abhor h i m and he condemns them f o r t h e i r
L
t
cruelty.
Here he p l a n t s the proof of J u s t i n e ' ~" g u i l t "
on the s l e e p i n g woman:
And then I bent over h e r , and whispered,
'Awake, f a i r e s t , thy l o v e r i s near-- he
who would g i v e h i s l i f e t o o b t a i n one look
of a f f e c t i o n from t h i n e e y e s : my beloved,
awake! '
The s l e e p e r s t i r r e d ; a t h r i l l o r t e r r o r
r a n through me. Should she indeed awake,
and see me, and c u r s e me, and denounce the
murderer? Thus would she a s s u r e d l y a c t , if
h e r darkened eyes opened and she beheld me.
The thought was madness; i t s t i r r e d the f i e n d
within
--not I , b u t she s h a l l s u f f e r : t h e
murder
have committed because 1 am f o r e v e r
robbed of a l l t h a t she could g i v e me, she
s h a l l atone. The trine had a source i n h e r :
be h e r s the punishment!
(F: X V I , 145-6).
Ye
-
--L
E l i z a b e t h r e f l e c t s only once on the i n j u s t i c e s of t h e
community h e r t t l o v e ws u p p o r t s , and then only when
J u e t i n e t 8 e x e c u t i o n d i r e c t l y c a u s e s h e r pain:
Before, I looked upon t h e accounts of v i c e
and i n j u s t i c e , t h a t I read i n books o r heard
from o t h e r s , a s t a l e 6 of a n c i e n t d a y s , o r
imaginary e v i l s ; a t l e a s t they were remote,
and more f a m i l i a r t o r e a s o n than t o t h e
imagination; b u t now misery h a s come home,
and men appear t o me a s monsters t h i r s t i n g
f o r each o t h e r ' s blood. (F: I X , 95).
"In C l e r v a l , " V i c t o r n o t e s , "1 saw t h e image of
my former s e l f ; he was i n q u i s i t i v e , " b u t C l e r v a l
i s n o t developed i n t h i s d i r e c t i o n and seems a mas-
,
Y
culine Elizabeth i n t h a t h i s main r o l e i n the p l o t
i s nursing Victor back to composed n o r n ~ a l i t y , There
i s l i t t l e reason t o exempt hirtl from the Creature's
wrath*
The complexity of V i c t o r ' s g u i l t , the
-",
next chapter w i l l explore, bul he shares the communal \ '.
,
I
i
c u l p a b i l i t y on i ts basic l e v e l .
What does Victor have a g a i n s t h i s Creature?
He
showed the salne prejudice a g a i n s t M r . Krempe, who
though b r i l l i a n t i n naturfil sciences, "was a l i t t l e
squat man, with a g r u f f voice and a repuleive
countenance;
theref ore, d i d not prepossess me
i n favour of h i s p u r s ~ i t s , ~(F: 111, 5 ~.51
)
He
overcame Krempe's "repulsive physiognomy and mannersH,
but even when both h i s sense of reason and mercy
f e e l the j u s t i c e of the Creature's plea f o r a
-
I
I
i
companion--"You
could deny i t only i n the wanton- ;
i-
\?
ness of power and crueltyu--he i s barely a b l e to
',
3.
i
\
over come h i s repugnance (and then only f o r a s h o r t \
1
!
.
\
I
\
while) :
\
I
I
?
H i s words had a strange e f f e c t upon me, I
compassioned him, and somtinres f e l t a wish
to console him; b u t when I looked upon him,
?
when I saw the f i l t h y mass that moved and
talked, my h e a r t sickened, and my f e e l i n g s
were a l t e r e d t o those of horror and hatred.
I t r i e d t o s t i f l e these sensations** * (F: X V I I , 149)
i
i
i
'
Moreover, the Creature confronts Victor with h i s
own murderous intentions: "You purpose t o k i l l me.
How dare you s p o r t thus with life..
.It
(F: X, 101),
and again he reasons i n f a l l i b l y :
You would not c a l l i t murder if you could
p r e c i p i t a t e me i n t o one of those i c e - r i f t s
and destroy my frame; the work of your own
hnnd.8. Shall 1 respect man whbn he contemns
me? (I?: X V I I , 147).
If the Creature's l o g i c were pure, Mary'e
thematic i n t e n t i n presenting his case could be
a s single-minded a s t h a t of Shelley i n the Assaasins.
In t h a t prose fragment, w r i t t e n i n 1814,
"an unostentatious communi ty" of e a r l y C h r i s t i a n s ,
"attached f r o m p r i n c i p l e t o peace, despising and
hating the pleasures and the customs of the degenerate mass of mankind1' and e s p e c i a l l y the tyranny
of i n s o l e n t Rome, withdraws and i n i t i a t e s a new
s o c i e t y i n the v s l l e y of Bethzatanai:
Thus securely excluded from an abhorred world,
a l l thought of i t s judgements was cancelled
by the r a p i d i t y of t h e i r f e r v i d imaginations.
They ceased t o acknowledge; or deigned not
t o a v e r t t o , the d i s t i n c t i o n s with which the
majority of base and vulgar minds c o n t r o l
the longings ~ n ds t r u g g l e s of the s o u l towards
i t s place of r e s t . A new and sacred f i r e was
kindled i n t h e i r h e a r t s and sparkled i n t h e i r
eyes...
They were a l r e a d y i n h a b i tan4.s of
p a r a d i s e . 52
B e t h z a t a n a i followed the s p i r i t of i ts founder:
u n i t i n g " t h e d e v o u t e s t submission t o the law of
C h r i s t " w i t h an " i n t r e p i d s p i r i t of i n q u i r y w , i n
a harmony w i t h Nature and i n communal s h a r i n g w i t h
each o t h e r .
Needless t o s a y , t h e A s s a s s i n , un-
p o l l u t e d by t h e monstrous wickedness of c i v i l i m t i o n ,
would, a g a i n s t an o u t s i d e s o c i e t y ,
...
wage u n r e m i t t i n g h o s t i l i t y from p r i n c i p l e .
He would f i n d himself compelled t o adopt
means which they would abhor, f o r t h e sake
of an object which they could n o t conceive
t h a t he should propose t o himself.
Secure
and s e l f -enshrined i n the magnificence and
pre-eminence of h i s c o n c e p t i o n s , s p o t l e s s
a s t h e l i g h t of heaven, he would be v i c t i m
among t h e men of calumny and p e r s e c u t i o n .
Incapable of d i s t i n g u i s h i n g h i s motives,
they would ranK him among t h e v i l e s t and most
3 t r o c i o u s c r i m i n a l s . G r e a t , beyond a l l comp a r i s o n w i t h them, they would d e s p i s e him
53
on the presumption of t h e i r ignormce...
For S h e l l e y , v i o l e n c e a g a i n s t tyranny i s j u s t i f i e d frorn t h e unco~npro~cising
vievrpoint of a more
l o v i n g order--or
better--disorder.
t o imagine t h e Assassin,
Shelley i s a b l e
a man who i s n o t t a i n t e d
by t h e customs of hu.i!an c i v i l i z a t i o n , b u t t h e Creat u r e i s g i v e n no t t s e l f - e n s h r i n e d l t confidence from
a
vision
of
Bethzatsnai.
H i s p a r a d i s e was
t h e DeLacey c o t t a g e , and h i s moral r e f l e c t i o n s on
i
f
h i s own defence
of h i s c r i n e s u s u a l l y end as judge-
ments a g a i n s t h i m s e l f .
H e a r g u e s t o Walton a t t h-),3
e
end of the novel t h a t he i s the v i c t i m d r i v e n t o
i
.,
I
i
:
I ,
1
t
.
L
4 '
,
',i
i
P.
* :
h i s crimes by t h e "good":
'\
BHS t h e r e no i n j u s t i c e i n Lhis?
Am I t o be "
thought the only c r i m i n a l when a l l human k i n d
sinned a g a i n s t inel Vthy do you n o t h a t e
d e l i x who drove h i s f r i e n d from h i s door with
conLurnely? Llhy do you n o t e x e c r a t e the r u e t i c
who sought to d e s t r o y the s a v i o u r of h i s c h i l d ?
Nay, these a r e v i r t u o u s and im~naculatebeings!
I , the m i s e r a b l e and t h e abdndoned, am a n
a b o r t i o n , t o be spurned a t , and k i c ~ e dand
trampled on. Even now my blood b o i l s a t the
r e c o l l e c t i o n of t h i s i n j u s t i c e .
1
Then b e f o r e Wal ton can respond, he a t t a c k e h i m s e l f d
'r
'
-,
But it i s t r u e t h a t I am a wretch. I have
murdered the l o v e l y and h e l p l e s s ; I have
s t r a n g l e d t h e innocent as they s l e p t , and
grasped t o d e a t h h i s t h r o a t who never injured me...
You h a t e me; b u t your abhorrence cannot e q u a l t h a t w i t h which I r e g a r d
myeelf. (F: XXIV, 2 2 2 ) .
5
\L
humans are.
He even b r a g s t h a t he i s s u p e r i o r
%
I
,
'
t'.
,
For i n s t a n c e , though h i s f e a t u r e s a r e g r o t e s -
que, he is a p p a r e n t l y more a g i l e and s t r o n g than
'
I
1
i
H e has l e a r n e d t h e v a l u e s y s tem of the c o t t a g e r s
well.
I
'
i
i
,r
-
3
because "1 do n o t d e s t r o y the lamb and t h e k i d t o
g l u t ,iny a p p e t i t e ; acorns and b e r r i e s a f f o r d me
s u f f i c i e n t nourish.,.ent."
(F: X V I I , 1L+t)).54 He
could behold h i m e l f a s b e a u t i f u l , b u t i n s end, he
comes t o see himself a s deformed by comparison
t o h i s flprotectorsll:
I had admired t h e p e r f e c t f o r l c s of my c o t t a g e r s - - t h e i r g r a c e , b e a u t y , and d e l i c a t e
complexions: b u t how was I terrified when I
viewed myself i n a t r a n s p a r e n t pool! A t
f i r s t I s t a r t e d back, unable t o b e l i e v e t h a t
I t WHS I indeed who w.18 r e f l e c t e d i n t h e
m i r r o r ; and when I became f u l l y convinced
t h a t I was i n r e a l i t y the monster t h a t I am,
I was f i l l e d w i t h the b i t t e r e s t s e n s a t i o n s
of despondence and r n o r l i f i c s t i o n . (F: XII,
116).
i
Nor c a n he avoid r e a c h i n g out.
S h e l l e y wrote
...
t h a t : \:
. i
-,i
i n s o l i t u d e , o r t h a t d e s e r t e d s t a t e when
we a r e surrounded by human b e i n g s and y e t they
sympathize not w i t h w i t n us, w e l o v e the
f l o w e r s , the grass, the w a t e r s and the sky. 55
The C r e a t u r e l o v e s the f i r s t o b j e c t he d i s t i n g u i s h e s ,
the moon,
But Mary makes i t c l e a r t h a t he c a n only
r e a l l y l e a r n i n ~ s s o c i a i i o nw i t h humans.
He cannot
f i g u r e o u t how t o r e l i g h t f i r e , and, more p o i g n a n t l y ,
he l o n g s f o r language:
1
Sometimes I t r i e d t o i n i t a t e t h e songs of
t h e b i r d s , b u t was unable.
Sometines 1 wished
t o e x p r e s s m y s e n s a t i o n s i n m y own mode, b u t
the uncouth and u n a r t i c u l a t e sounds which broke
from me f r i g h t e n e d me i n t o s i l e n c e again. (F:
X I , 106).
-
.
;.
P a r t of ~ a r y ' ss u c c e s s i n c r e a t i n g the C r e a t u r e ,
Compare the C r e a t u r e t o t h e
Y
single-minded Be thlam Gabor of ~ o d w i n ' s St. Leon.
Clabor f i n d s a d e s p i s e d fellow-wretch i n S t . Leon,
a V i c t o r - l i k e c h a r a c t e r who i s g u i l t - r i d d e n because
he h a s be trayed Margtiri t e and domes t i c p r o p r i e ty
by r e c e i v i n g t h e p h i l o s o p h e r ' s s t o n e , b u t St. Leon
i s t r y i n g t o g e t back i n t o the community.
Gabor
rages against h i s inconsistencies:
I n e t e a d o f , l i k e me, seeking occasions o r
g l o r i o u s mischief and vengeance, you took upon
y o u r s e l f t o be t h e b e n e f a c t o r and p a r e n t
of mankind. what v o c a t i o n had you t o t h e
t a s k ? With the s p i r i t of a s1:ave who, t h e
more he i s b e a t e n , becomes t h e more s e r v i l e
and submissive, you remunerated i n j u r i e ?
chicken-hear ted wretch.
with benefits.
I h3 t e t h e man
poor s o u l l e s s poltroon!.
i n whom kindneas produces no responsive
a f f e c t i o n , and i n j u s t i c e no s w e l l , no glow
of resentment.
I h a t e d you the more, because,
having s u f f e r e d what I had s u f f e r e d , your
f e e l i n g s and conduct on the occasion have
been the r e v e r s e of mine. 56
..
..
The C r e a t u r e , though r e p e a t e d l y r e j e c t e d , always
f
"
-Y
i s i n t h e maintaining of p a r a d o x i c a l a t t i tudes
w i t h i n the Creature.
-
,
seeks a companion even i n h i s most h a t e f u l momenls.
H e echoes the t o t a l l y c o u n t e r - s o c i a l :
"Evil thenceforth
became my good1' of Milton's Satan only when he k i l l s
E l i z a b e t h ; b u t , i n s s e n s e , i n t h i s act, he e n s u r i n g
that V i c t o r w i l l be h i s companion i n misery u n t i l
death.
( ~ o t ehow he l e a v e s marks on t r e e s and a
dead h a r e f o r food f o r h i s pursuer.)
The emotional undercurrent of the c r e a t u r e ' s
demands i s always t h n t the wretch must be t r e a t e d
a s an equal: i n South America, " t h e sun w i l l s h i n e
on u s a6 on man, and w i l l r i p e n our food."
XVII, 148).
(F:
& h a t r e a l l y comes through i s h i s r i g h t
to l i f e , h i s right
LO
r e s t of l i v i n g being^,
joys of r e l a t i o n s h i p with the
He l a s t l y laments: "I shall
1
no l o n g e r s e e the sun o r stars o r f e e l the winds
1
play on my cheexsel' Levine claims t h n t all t h e
4
C r e a t u r e ever r e a l l y wanted was f o r V i c t o r t o l o v e
,
him and c a r e f o r him as Alphonse does f o r h i s son,
I
Itwhat each n i n e t e e n t h century f i c t i o n a l orphan
wants-new
p a r e n t s , someone t o love and r e l y on,
j u s t i c e , a p l a c e i n which t o d e f i n e himself and be
happy n57
But the novel f o r c e s us t o f a c e t h a t
,
'!
n e i t h e r V i c t o r nor the Cretlturs can f i n d a home i n' -'
4v'
j
J
I
t
\
such a l i m i t e d s o c i a l order.
_
I
_
_
-
_
-
-
-
-
-
'They a r e b o t h h o a e l e s s
-
-.
wretches, one by h i s p h y s i c a l and the o t h e r by h i s
t h a t wcrime and msdnesi~a r e o b j e c t i v a t i o n s of Lransc e n d e n t a l homelessness--the
homelessness of a n
a c t i o n i n t h e human o r d e r of s o c i a l r e l a t i o n s . I, 58
S o c i a l l y , t h e C r e a t u r e i s a "criminal"; V i c t o r i s
"mad".
h i t h e r can f i t i n the hurnan home a s i t is,
b u t while t h e C r e a t u r e must Pace t h e agony of t h i s
throughout, V i c t o r i s n e a r l y alwsya d u p l i c i t o u s ,
,
p r e t e n d i n g t h a t he f i t s i n even t o t h e e x t e n t of
l e t t i n g J u s t i n e d i e t o p r o t e c t himself from the
char4e of madness.
This c a u t i o n i s j u s t i f i e d
perhaps i n t h e c a s e of t h e m a g i s t r a t e o r h i s f a t h e r ,
but t h e r e a r e o t h e r e l i v i n g on the f r i n g e s of s o c i e t y
who might vouch f o r the r e a l i t y of h i s claims; f o r
i n s t a n c e , h i s t e ~ c h e r ,Vialdenan, o r t h e E n g l i s h s c i e n -
t i s t who h a s some knowledge o f h i s subject--the
Arctic
e x p l o r e r Walton, a f t e r a l l , does n o t judge him mad.
By the end, he has r e t r e a t e d so f d r from defending
h i s a t t e m 2 t to yo beyond what i s , t h a t he becomes
t h e hatef l i l avenger f o r t h e u n f i t holiie and imagines
himself t o be involved i n a heavenly t a s k i n seeking
t o d e s t r o y a wretch.
Yet h i 6 l a s t words i n d i c a t e
1'
/
/
t h a t he i s s t i l l v a c i l l a t i n g : "another may succeed.''
/--x
Though Victor becomes cowardly, Mary Shelley
i s s t i l l e s s e n t i a l l y i n t e r e s t e d i n the p l i g h t of
the i n t e l l e c t u a l wretch; i f t h i s were not so, the
c r e a t u r e ' s demands would be the C h r i s t i a n onet h a t we love the lepers.
/
The Creature's plea works
'
b e s t when seen a s aaplifying Victor's p l i g h t , a s
j
demonstrating how the s o c i a l order breaks down the
p o t e n t i a l f o r c r e a t i v i t y i n mansind.
It is for
t h i s reason that i f Frankens t e i n urges anything,
i t i s f o r a kind of Gothic s p i r i t of s o c i a l s t r u c t u r e .
I n h i s essay, IfThe Nature of the Go thictt, John
us kin
-
,
f
t r i e s to characterize the s p i r i t of Gothicness i n
li
c o n t r a s t t o t h a t o f Classicism.
1
He ends up p r a i s i n g
the i r r e g u l a r i t i e s o f the Gothic s t y l e because they;
f
a r e the expression of human freedom, because " l m -
:
perfection i s i n soce s o r t e s s e n t i a l t o a l l t h a t
we know of l i f e .
I t i s the sign of l i f e i n a mortal
body, tha't i s t o sny, o f- -a s t a t e of progress and
change.
perfect...
Nothing t h a t l i v e s i s , o r can b e , r i g i d l y
lt5'
If a society comes to see i t s e l f a s
a b l i s s f u l , "good"
$
community and i t s menbers t r y
t o exclude or destroy what i s outside and therefore
, +
r:
threatening t o it 6 s o c i a l pat terns, ths t society
becomes s l a v i s h and moribund,
&very p o s s i b i l i t y
of r e g e n e r a t i n g l i f e comes from o u t s i d e , from the
,
wimperfectll ones, n o t fron: t r m q u i l l i t y o r c e r t a i n t y
b u t from what Ruskin d e s c r i b e s a e " t h e s t r a n g e d i e g u i e -
that restlessness of t h e dreaming mind, t h a t
wanders h i t h e r and t h i t h e r among t h e n i c h e s ,
and f l i c k e r s around the p i n n a c l e s , and f r e t s
and f a d e s i n l a b y r i n t h i n e k n o t s and shadows
along w a l l and r o o f , and y e t i s n o t s a t i s f i e d ,
nor s h a l l be s a t i s f i e d . 60
The only energy i n the novel i s g e n e r a t e d f r o n
g a r g o y l e s of human thought: f r o m V i c t o r (and ~ a r y )
going beyond the p a l e i n t o "wretchednessw, and n o t
from the p r e d i c t a b l e p a t t e r n s , ~ l i z a b e t h ' s"immutable
i'
6
laws1' of hoae and l a k e ,
But the i n t e r n a l ambivalence
i s maintained r i g h t t i l l the end because, though
t h e C r e a t u r e knows t h a t he i s s u p e r i o r even t o
V i c t o r by v i r t u e of h i s agony, i n r e a o r s e he p l a n s
t o s a c r i f i c e himself by burning s o that h i s rernains
t t a f f o r d no l i g h t t o any c u r i o u s and unhallowed
wretch who would c r e a t e such a n o t h e r u s I have
been."
,
I n h i s p r e f a c e t o "Prometheus Unboundt1 Shelley
wrote: "I was averse from a catastrophe so feeble
as that of reconciling the Champion with the Oppressor of rnsnkind."
But Frankenstein demands that
we find a dynamics of reconciliation because the
champion and the oppressor are not only external
but are battling from within.
Chagter Two
FRANKENSTEIN: THE ABOHTIVB MODFAN-PItOMETHEUS
A symbol... always partakes of the r e a l i t y
which i t renders i n t e l l i g i b l e ; and while i t
enunciates the whole, abides i t s e l f a s a l i v i n g
p
represen- a r t i n t h a t unity, of which i t is
tative.
Coleridge: The Statesman * Q
Manual
i nt
w WJ
~ e & . Aim w ~ ~ w w
;tn&w
- : b B k s '&lgrturieffX
t o a ~ t l c u ~ it tes f e e l i n g and opinions.
I have
c a l l e d t h i s chapter "Frankenstein: the abortive
modern-Prome theustt i n order to underline the f a c t
t h a t Mary Shelley doubted whether the time had come
f o r t h e triumph of "modarn-Prometheanism".
The
Promethean symbol had acquired "modern" p o s s L b i l i t i e s of
meaning i n t h e hopes of E n l.i g. h t e + m e n t thaught for
. .,
t h e perfectibility of m a n ; and t o thie general f a i t h ,
-
.
.
.
I
Y
Mary added t h e Oodwhrt.isn l h s l s t e n c e t h a t t h e r o u t e
t o i a p r m w n m t ef We' hufniid dondl t i o n waa a slow
process:
F r 4 . n k e n s t e i n i s , i n the nave$
twentie th-century my thology
, Wm
i n our
~ a b %ort
d s falled
rnoderrpProaaetheu6,
.-..
f o r t h e wilbful r m i a a t l s t , s
.P
s i t u a t i o n , she i n h e r i ted the moral ambigui ty spawned
by t h e v a r i e t y of i te e c t y p a l
Much of the
unevenness of Frankenstein i s due t o t h e contrad i c t o r y elements which have become a s s o c i a t e d w i t h
t h e Promethean symbol through t h e h i s t o r y of Western
thought, and which Mary S h e l l e y i n keepimg w i t h h e r
own ambiguous f e e l i n g s d i d n o t prune out.
Hesiod, i n t h e T h e o ~ o n y , t e l l s how Prometheus,
though one of t h e god^, s i d s a with m o r t a l s and t r i c k s
Zeus, t h e r u l e r of t h e u n i v e r s e , i n t o s e l e c t i n g t h e
f a t and bones of t h e animal s a c r i f i c e , t h u s l e a v i n g
t h e f l e s h f o r aannind.
I n h i s Prometheus: Archetypal
Image of Human E x i s t e n c e , Karl Kerenyi i l l u s t r a t e s
t h e c l o s e r e l a t i o n s h i p b e t ~ e e nthe myth and what
a c t u a l l y happens i n the r e l i d i o u s r i t u a l s of s a c r i f i c e t o t h e gods.
He a l s o f u r t h e r comments t h a t
t h e Theo~ony:
...
presupposes t h e p o l a r i t y of the Greek
world view, h e r e mankind, t h e r e the gods.
I t i s accepted and s t a t e d , but l i k e two
p r i s t i n e mythological being& who come t o g e t h e r
and engage i n a c o n t e s t , n o t f o r any r e a s o n
known t o human psychology but because they
a r e a s they a r e and cannot be otherwise.3
As t h i s paper w i l l go on t o i l l u s t r a t e , i t i s
t h e e t e r n a l i t y of t h i s a r c h e t y p a l Prometheus-Zeus
r e l a t i o n s h i p , i.e.,
of t h i s p r i m o r d i a l mental image
i n h e r i t e d by t h e s p e c i e s , t h a t Mary S h e l l e y i s
gropping t o r e d e f i n e when she p l a c e s h e r e c t y p a l
Prometheus i n a p r o c e s s of p o s s i b l e human ascendancy.
devious t h i e f who s t o.,.<
l e f i r e from t h e heavens i n
<.
?..,-
-m----P.hw
a muddled a t t e m p t to.Q,artfer man's l o t .
One T i t a n
brother, Menoitios, i s r i g h t f u l l y struck by a thunderb o l t f o r h i s exceeding pride and another brother,
Atlas, i s made t o uphold the heavens by a wise Zeus, 4
Aeschylus r e t a i n s the p o l s r i t y between Zeus
end Prometheua i n Prone theus ~ o u n d , but
~
h i s drama
demands t h e i r synthesis.
Max
Scheler w r i t e s t h a t :
"the g r e a t a r t of the tragedian i s t o e e t each value
of the c o n f l i c t i n g elements i n i t s f u l l e s t l i g h t ,
t o develop completely the i n t r i n s i c r i g h t s of each
p a r t y O t f 6 Accordingly, although Zeus i s a c r u e l
t y r a n t whose j u s t i c e i s a "thing he keeps by h i s
own standard" ,7 he i s new to h i s throne and m u s t
learn; moreover, Prometheus deserves h i s punishment a8 he "sinned a g a i n s t the immortals, giving
honour t o the c r e a t u r e s o f a dayw8 by s t e a l i n g
heaven's f i r e ; he "gave honour t o mortals beyond
what was just."9
On the other hand, Prometheus
i s the benefactor of both Zeus and man.
He i n i t i a t e d
the human struggle towards knowledge: "I found them
,
w i t l e s s and gave them the use of t h e i r w i t s and
made them masters of t h e i r minds. 'lo He "disbovered
t o themw c r e a t i v e and technological s h i l l s : architec ture , the calendar, mathematics, language, agri-
culture.
"One b r i e f word w i l l t e l l the whole
s t o r y : a l l art8 t h a t m o r t a l s have come from Prome theus.
''
Without the Prome thean spirit which
gave mankind " b l i n d hopes"'*
and the a b i l i t y t o
s t r u g g l e beyond our p l a c e i n ~ e u s ' so r d e r , mankind
would be "swarming a n t s i n h o l e s i n the ground,
i n the s u n l e s s caves of t h e e a r t h . "13 ~ h o u g ha t
times i n the drama, Prometheus e x u l t s i n h i s f o r e knowledge t h a t Zeus i s powerless a g a i n s t h i s f a t e d
fall:
Nothing s h a l l a l l of t h i s a v a i l a g a i n s t
a f a l l i n t o l e r a b l e , a dishonoured end, 14
Prometheus e t i l l wants t o compromise i f Zeus f r e e s
him:
When he i s broken i n the wsy I know,
and though h i s temper now i s oaken hard
i t s h a l l be softened: h a s t i l y h e ' l l come
t o meet my h a s t e , t o j o i n i n amity
and union w i t h me--one day he s h a l l come. 15
For Aeschylus, t h e r e s o l u t i o n must come i n a e y n t h e s i s
of t h e two p a r t i e s which upholds t h e r i g h t s of each;
t h e p r o c e s s f o r both s i d e s i s through s u f f e r i n g
t o justice.
Accordingly, i n Prometheus Delivered,
t h a t t h i r d p l a y of Aeschylus's t r i l o g y on Prometheus,
what Shelley c a l l e d a "catastrophe", i.e.,
reconcilia-
t i o n between the t y r a n t and the r e b e l , takes place.
Shelley might a l s o apply the word "catastrophew
t o h i s wife's Frankenstein because not only does she
develop the r i g h t s and f a u l t s of both p a r t i e s , i.e.,
of the s o c i a l order, Geneva and Frankenstein's family
( ~ e u s )end o$.,&hs- c r e a t i v e rebel, Frankenstein
(prometheus),
but she i n s i s t s t h a t the two p a r t i e s
* -.
must be reconciled, a s I show i n the l a s t chapter,
by creating Frankenstein's own psychological make-up
t o include both poles: Prometheus and Zeus,
('~hi~i
ambivalence r e f l e c t s Mary's own s t a t e of mind and
t h a t of her age, and i s projected a s w e l l i n t o the
moral wrestling6 of the Creature and ~ a l t o n . )
I n the medieval world view, with i t s dependency on the cosmology of Saint Augu~tineand o f S a i n t .
Thomacs,
the heavenly and mundane were a l s o polarized.
Alchemy (which i n the novel, i s the first love upon
which Frankenstein's c u r i o s i t y f i x e s i t s e l f ) was
the medievvl expression of a physical attempt t o
the divine by a route outsifle t h a t of the
established church and, a8 such, was suspect.
As
P a t r i c k Callahan points o u t , f o r the medieval mind
" e v i l comes of i t s [alcherny'g] Prome thennism; i t
p r o v i d e s t h e i n s t r u m e n t a l i t y by which the e g o i s t
c a n r e a l i z e h i s i n c r e u s i n b l y unchained w i l l ,
6
I I ~
I n h i e s t u d y of P a r a c e l s u s , Carl Jung n o t i c e d the
s t r u g g l e s of conscience which t h a t would-be c r e a t o r
and d e f i e r of t h e communal o r d e r u n d e m e n t , and
r e f e r r e d t o t h o s e c o n f l i c t s a s "Promethean g u i l t " ) 17
nor was ~ a r y ' s~ r a n k e n s t e i n ~ m o d e r n ~ e n o ut goh escape
t h e hazard of t h i s v o c s t i o n ,
In the t r a n s i t i o n a l
Renaissance, C h r i s t o p h e r Marlowe's D r . F a u s t u s ,
t h e over-reacher who t r i e s t o be god-like,
is destined,
by t h e v e r y s t r u c t u r e of the u n i v e r s e he t h i n k s i n ,
to his hellish fall,
S t i l l , by the time of Milton's P a r a d i s e L o s t ,
even t h e t r a d i t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n s t o r y of the g u i l t
of &itan and man i n a s p i r i n g t o god-head, can be t o l d
with such unconscious d e f i a n c e t h a t Blake was l e d
t o comment t h a t % I t o n was of & a t a n t s p a r t y w.ithout
knowing i t , li) During the y e a r 1816, ahelley read
P a r a d i s e Lost aloud t o dary: she used i t e x t e n s i v e l y
15
and absorbed i t s c o n t r a d i c t i o n s i n t o Frankenstein,
I n h i s i n t r o d u c t i o n t o Prometheus Unbound (1819),
S h e l l e y commented t h a t S a t a n is t h e only imaginary
being resembling Prometheus, but t h a t , unlike Prometheus, he is tainted by "ambition, envy, revenge,
and a desire for personal aggrandisernenttt. For Mary
Shelley, however, another irnayinary being2'
in
Paradise Lost resembles her idea of Proxetheus:
Adam.
In her Matilda of 1815, Mary wrote, when
Matilda Was evaluating the benevolence of the poet
Woodville:
To bestow on your felloa men is a Godlike attribute.
So indeed it ib and as such not fit for mortality-the giver like Adam and Pronetheus, must pay
the penalty of rising above his nature by being
the martyr to his own excellence. 21
Not only does V i c t o r describe his misfortunes in
terms of the tradltfonaL B i b l i o e l fangvage of the Fall:
"I ardently hope that the gratification of gour
[~alton's] wishes may not be a ~erpentto sting
you, as mine hsre beenu,22but the Creature also
articulates his inner conflicts by wondering whether
he is most like Adam or Satan.
even
Christopher Small
suggests that, in his superb self-reliance,
the Monster is more liae Prometheus than Frankenstein.
Nevertheless, ~ary's focus i s o n Y;lctortsre-enactment of origirial sin, though both Victor and the
Creature are would-be benefactors of man who thereby
22
r i s e above t h e i r place :rid must s u f f e r .
For both
of them, their punishment, the vulture eating out
t h e i r l i v e r s , i s iasged ( j u s t as Marlowe's Mephistopheles's was) a s the bearing of " h e l l within"
(F: VIII, 31; XVI, 138).
Victor's work, i n the
view of t r a d i t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n i t y , can only be seen
a s the r e s u l t of over-whelming s e l f - p r i d e .
John
Hick h w written that:
!he nerpent,ia the f i r a t s c i e n t i s t ; h i s
'temptation i s the e a r l i e s t hypothesis;
and the fa13 is the f i l s t snd most daring
e x p e r i ~ e n t . T h i s primal experiment i n which
the whole: f u t u r e s c i e n t i f i c e n t e r p r i s e i s
i m p l i c i t , i c the experi3,ent o f regarding the
world a s a@ independent ozder with i t s own
inherent Btructure aRa laws. The serpent
r e j e c t s the r e l i g i o u s signiricance a f f i x e d
t o the t r e e of ~ n o a l e d g eby divine taboo...
t r e a t i n g the tree a s a n a t u r a l r a t h e r than
a r e l i g i o u s object... 24
The d i f f i c u l t y of Yary'8 c r e a t i v e task tihat of
bringing together i n Frankenstein's person the
contradictions o f Western man: the a s p i r a t i o n s and
accompliMkrPealis
-- . ~ af Prome thean genius, and a t the
%
same time, the remorse and g u i l t of an Adam re-
enacting the o r i g i n a l sin, is brought out i n t h i s
passage by Nietzsche which describe8 the e s s e n t i a l
a l i e n n e s s of the Greek world view t o the Judaic-
C h r i s t i a n one:
..
[ For
the Greeks].
man's h i g h e s t good must
be bought w i t h a crime and p a i d f o r by t h e
f l o o d of g r i e f and s u f f e r i n g which t h e offended
d i v i n i t i e s v i s i t upon t h e human r a c e i n i t s
noble ambition. An a u s t e r e n o t i o n , t h i s ,
which by t h e d i g n i t y i t c o n f e r s on crime
p r e s e n t s a s t r a n g e c o n t r a s t t o the Semitic
myth of the Fall--a myth t h a t e x h i b i t s c u r i o s i t y , deception, s u g g e s t i b i l i t y , concupiscence,
i n s h o r t s whole s e r i e s of p r i n c i p a l l y femin i n e f r a i l t i e s , a s the r o o t of a l l e v i l .
What d i s t i n g u i s h e s the Aryan conception i s
a n e x a l t e d n o t i o n of a c t i v e s i n as t h e prop e r l y Promethean virtue... 25
Though Mary h e r s e l f , i n her 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n t o
F r a n k e n s t e i n , s t a t e s the m o r a l i s t i c o p i n i o n t h a t
f
" f r i g h t f u l must i t b e ; f o r ~ u y r e m e l yf r i g h t f u l would
f
4- +if
-0
be the e f f e c t of any human endeavour t o mock t h e
stupendous mechanism of the C r e a t o r of t h e world",[
f ' . AI *
'
and though Frankenstein r e p e a t e d l y echoes t h i s
d i d a c t i c i s m , t h e novel d e f i e s any single-minded
reading.
For one t h i n g , when Frankenstein i s n o t
a c t i n g o u t h i s Promethean d r i v e s , he i s extremely pas-
sive
and l i f e l e s s .
He nay f e e l g u i l t throughout
t h e novel f o r h i s succes6 a t mimicking d i v i n e c r e a t i o n , b u t , i n t h a t very important sequence i n which
he d e s t r o y s hi^ female c r e a t i o n , he i s a l s o c u l pable: "1 almost f e l t as i f I had mangled the l i v i n g
\
A=
'"
I
f l e s h of a human being. " 2 6
Alao, a f t e r he c a r r i e s
out the "dreadful crime" of emptying the remains i n t o
the s e a , he c o l l a p s e s i n his boat l e t t i n g the water
a c t on him ac i t w i l l f o r s e v e r a l hours.
He b r i e f l y
rouses himself t o f i g h t a storm only t o f a l l i n t o
sickness and h e l p l e s s n e ~ son hearing of C l e r v a l ' s
death.
( ~ ceh a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y becomes incapaci-
t a t e d when he i s faced with the consequence& of h i e
few d e c i s i v e actions.)
The submissive and passive
rank en stein's c h a r a c t e r i s not very a t t r a c -
s i d e of
t i v e ; y e t i t seems t h a t t o a c t i s t o sin.
More-
over, although Victor himself recognizes t h a t dest i n y had decreed h i s p a r t i c u l a r d e s t r u c t i o n i n the
ominous
I1f
ore-knowledde" wni ch he experienced a t
f i f t e e n , t h e reducing of an oak t o a b l a e t e d stump
by a b o l t of l i g h t n i n g (P 11, 44), h i s l a s t word8
a r e "yet another may succeedll (F: XXIV, 2 l 8 ) , and
thus i n d i c a t e t h a t he s t i l l hopes t h a t f u t u r e struggl i n g midht not r e s u l t i n h i s own Menoitios-like
punishment
.
I cannot r e s i s t p u t t i n & i n Northrop Frye's
d e s c r i p t i o n of a t r a g i c hero h e r e , though the l a t t e r
p a r t of t h i s gaper w i l l be concerned with the modern-
Promethean a t tempt a t humanizing the
because the passage i s s o s u i t a b l e f o r s u g g e ~ t i n g
how Victor's blighted p o t e n t i a l w o r k s a s a tremendous
example, expecially t o Walton who i s the everyman
a t t h a t point i n h i s t o r y trying t o understand the
meaning of
run ken stein's experience; kmlton i s ,
as Walliw ha6 pointed out, Itthe Vveddin, Guest"
f i g u r e to F r a ~ e n e t e i na s the "Ancient Mariner": 27
Tragic herOeE a r e so much the highest p o i n t s
i n t h e i r human landscape t h a t they seem the
i n e v i t a b l e conductors o f the power about
them, g r e a t t r e e s more l i k e l y to be s t r u c k
by lightning than a clump of grass. Condutors may of course be instruments a s well
as victims of the divine lightning. 28
Frankenstein
see^
himself a s
3
victiln of the divine
lightning [as a "blasted treet' (FI X I X , 162)] f o r
h i s presumption; h i s modern-Promethean e f f o r t s only
take on a p o s i t i v e meaning i f we can place them
i n a view of h i s t o r y which emphasizes the slow
li This
proceEs of the ascendancy of man
i s what
Mary struggles t o do, but her basic skepticism
underlies the whole novel.
While Mary Shelley was beginning Frankensteiq
i n the summer of 1816, ayron, her neighbor a t Diodati
.
i n Switzerland, wrote h i s poem: "Prome themtt
The
poem c h a r a c t e r i z e s the o r d e r of Zeus, t h e "Thunderer",
as
'' the
i n e x o r a b l e Heaven", t h e "deaf tyranny of f a t e t ' ,
t h e t ' r u l i n g p r i n c i p l e of Hatett; i t c e l e b r a t e s the Titan's
"impenetrable S p i r i t which & a r t h and Heaven could
n o t convulsett; and i t e x h o r t s us t o look t o the
T i t a n aa a "symbol and sign1' of our own " f a t e and
wforce."
For p e s s i m i s t i c Byron, though Prometheus
i s r e s u r r e c t e d as a powerful symbol of hornantic
r e b e l l i o n , we s t i l l f a c e our ttown f u n e r e a l destiny". 29
A t t h e same time though, Prometheus r e t a i n e d h i 8
sylrbolic l i f e a s t h e i n i t i a t o r of advancements i n
knowledge, as i n Mary ~ o l l s t o n e c r a f t ' suswe when the
c h a r a c t e r Darnford i n Maria o r the % r o w s of Woman
r e f e r a t o Housbeau a8 t h e
.
sentiment" 30
"true
Prometheus of
P a r t of the g e n i u s of Mary S h e l l e y ' s
c r e a t i o n of V i c t o r P r a m e n s t e m i s h e r u n i t i n g of
the t r a d i t i u n a l a m o c i u t i o n s of t h i s symbol w i t h
the emerging new c r e a t o r i n the human b o c i e t y of our
t i n e s : the s c i e n t i s t . 31
There has been much d i ~ c u s s i o na s t o t h e o r i g i n s
of t h e name "Frankensteintt, b u t Samuel Rosenberg' a
idea t h a t i t was a combination of Benjamin F r a n k l i n ' s
name and t h a t of ffYiolfsteintt, S h e l l e y ' s d e f i a n t
h e r o of St. Irvyne, who i s another beener of t h e
knowledge of e t e r n a l l i f e , seems t o me t o be t h e
most apt. 32
Even i f i t was n o t i n t e n t i o n a l , Mary
c e r t a i n l y knew of P r a n ~ l i na s a l i v i n g Prometheus.
I n t h e v e r y c h a p t e r o f Enquiry concerning P o l i t i c a l
J u s t i c e i n which h e r f a t h e r , William Godwin, made h i s
s p e c u l a t i o n e about man l e a r n i n g t o prolong human
l i f e , he r e f e r s t o F r a m l i n ' e claim t h a t "mind w i l l
one day become omnipotent over matter". 33
~n a
r e c e n t paper c a l l e d "The 0 u l t of F r : . u l i n i n France
b e f o r e and during the French Revolution", J o A .
Leich shows trle e x t e n t t o wnich F r a n k l i n was p o p u l a r l y
s e e n a s one of t h e depobers of Zeus and, by e x t e n s i o n ,
a l l t y r a n n i c a l order.
I n one s c u l p t u r e by Boizot,
" F r a n k l i n appeared t o d i r e c i thunder ~ i t hone hand,
and t o trample a broken s c e p t r e under h i s f e e t . ,,34
I n a widely-circulgted Qoem by d ' d u b e ~ t e u i l , he waa
a s s o c i a t e d with Montgolfier viho had r e c e n t l y made
s e n s a t i o n a l b a l l o o n a s c e n t s i n the conquest of t h e
heavens :
S i J u p i t e r veut nous r k d u i r e e n youdre
Sage F r s n k l i n , t u i l u i p r e ~ c r i st e e l o i r ,
Et A o n t g o l f i e r , p l u e h a r d i m i l l e f o i s ,
Va jusqu'au c i e l l u i d i s p u t e r l a foudre. 35
Mary h e r s e l f i n c l u d e s , i n the 1818 v e r e i o n , a d e s c r i p t i o n of V i c t o r l e a r n i n g about e l e c t r i c i t y (which is
t o become h i s spar^" f o r c r e a t i n g l i f ' e j frolri h i s
f a t h e r by means of the F r a n d i n k i t e experiment. 36
The inod4~n-Praruetheans a r e not content With t h e
~
the overmere theft of f i r e b u t glot,@ t x a t a bfa8
throw and t a ~ e o v e r00 the d i v i n e maim on e l l fronts.
F r a n x e n s t e i n ' s t e a c h e r , P r o f e s s o r Waldeman, p r a i a e s
I
.
t h e f e a t s of the ,ma&r&-Pg~aethean
.. . ,. s c i e n t i s t s :
...
these p h i l o s o p h e r s , whose hands seem
%
R
e
ef
yes
only made ta'--derrr;TTTe' i$*&gPXs
t o pore oven the microscope o r c r u c i b l e , have
indeed performed miracles. They p e n e t r a t e
~ X ~ show
, ~ how
i n t o the rec,e@s$x . Q ~ , . B B $ +nd
she works i n h e r h i d i n g p l a c e s . &ey ascend
i n t o the heavens: Uey h v e d i s e w e r e d how
the blood e l r c u h t e s , and the n a t u r e of the
a i r we b r e a t h e . They have a c q ~ i r e dnew and
almost wJka3.ked. gQwer6; tney can command
t h e thundera o f heaven, mimic t h e earthquake,
and even mOCK the i n v i s i b l e world with i t s
own shadows. (F: 111, 51).
Whereas Aeschylus h a s Proruetheus,
ti
dad, t a ~ et h e
f i r s t s t e p towards brsaking down the p o l u r i z s Lion
between d i v i n i t y and man by i d e n t i f y i n g w i t h man,
tein,
t h e modgq?&~ouie & h e ~ bw e ther F r w l i n o r Fran~ens
101
sourcew (F: I V , 967).
Wal t m :
"8
Even in h i e d e c l i n e , he i s to
celestiaL s p i r t t"
,a
f f d i v i n e wanderer..
.
imrnensurahly above ar&yo t h e r person I e v e r knewf'
(FI Let. I V , 3 3 ) .
Mary S h e l l e y , however, s ~ i l l f u l l ybalances
R a l t o n ' s i d o l i z a t i o n of Frankenstein with the
d e f l a t i n g e f f e c t of the angry speeches of ~ r a n t x m s t e i na'
abortion-creation.
'file C r e a t u r e , educated a s he was
on the world-view of Paradise L o s t , c o n s t a n t l y
upbraids Frankenstein f o r h i s l i m i t a t i o n s a8 a d i v i n i t y
b y comparing hi% t o the c r e a t o r :
Accursed c r e a t o r ! b*hy d i d you form a monster
so hideous t h a t even you turned from me i n
d i s g u s t ? God, i n p i t y , made man b e a u t i f u l
and a l l u r i n d , a f t e r h i 6 own image; but my form
i s a f i l t h y t y p e of yourc, more h o r r i d even
from the very resemblance. Satan had h i s
coropnnionb, f e l l o w - d e v i l s , t o admire and
encourage h i a ; b u t I am s o l i t a r y and abhorred
(F: 'ICV, 132).
Not s u r p r i s i n g l y , Frankenstein admits t o himself
t h a t *'for the f i r s t time, a l s o , I f e l t w h a t the
d u t i e s of a c r e a t o r towards h i s c r e a t u r e were (F:x, 104)."
The s p i r i t of triumphant Prometheanism i s
the eesence of ~ o d w i n ' sphilosophy i n Enauiry conc e r n i n g P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e and of S h e l l e y ' s p o e t r y
e s p e c i a l l y i n Prometheus Unbound of 1819.
Mary
Godwin Shelley shared the hopes of her f a t h e r and
husband f o r the f u t u r e t o a c e r t a i n extent, and
i
F r a n ~ e n s t e i ncan be seen a s her attempt t o incar-
na t e these a b s t r a c t i o n s using her contemporary
human s i t u a t i o n i n order t o probe t h e i r p o s s i b i l i t y .
She create8 the man Victor Frankenstein as the b e s t
specimen of our species: he i s given a happy chillhood,
indulgent parents, and a superstition-free educat-Ion;
moreover, he i s brought up i n the most enlightened
society she could find: Geneva.
Elizabeth e x t o l s
i t s v i r t u e s t h i s way:
The republican i n s t i t u t i o n s of our country
have produced simpler and happier manners
than those which p r e v a i l i n the g r e a t monarchies t h a t surround i t . Here there i s l e s s
d i s t i n c t i o n between the several c l a s s e s of
i t s inhabitants; and the lower orders being
n e i t h e r s o poor nor so despised, t h e i r manners
a r e more refined and moral. A servant i n
deneva does not mean the same thing a s a servant
i n France and England. J u s t i n e , thus received
i n our family, learned the d u t i e s of a servant;
a condition which, i n our f o r t u n a t e country,
does not include the idea of ignorance, and
s a c r i f i c e of the d i g n i t y of a human being
(P: VI, 68).
*a
F
*
".t
-.
. .hl0
s - i n t e n t i o n s a r e benevolent,
C
'%
--
A
thlrowh
w 1 1 1 pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers,
arid unfold t o the world the deepest mysteries of
creatioh."
(F:III, 51).
In f a c t , he even says
t h a t the reason Lhe human aind has not found out
and learned t o c o n t r o l the princik)Les of l i f e is
because! ncowardice o r cereleasness..
our inquiries."
(B: IV, 5 4 ) .
.[roelrained]
Let us ignore f o r
the time being the c o n t r a d i c t i o n 8 within Oodwin
himself a8 revealed, f o r i n s t a n c e , when he t r i e d
i n 1794 t o use Caleb Williams as a "vehiclen
for
h i s philosophy, b u t ended up presenting " t h i n g s
8s they are":.
What i s now presented t o the public i s no
r e f i n e d and a b s t r a c t speculations; i t i s a
study and d e l i n e a t i o n of' t h i n g s passing i n
the moral world. 37
V i c t o r ' s o p t i m i s t i c claims are similar i n s p i r i t
-
-
--- - - -
t o the confident voice of hope with which Godwin
apeake i n P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e , p a r t i c u l a r l y i n the
l a s t chapter i n which Godwin is most s p e c u l a t i v e
about the f u t u r e .
Not only does Godwin suggest
t h a t once reason dominates our minds and bodies,
and we are of benevolent temper c o n t r o l l i n g "those
sentiments of a n x i e t y , d i s c o n t e n t , rage, revenge
and d e s p a i r which s o powerfully corrode t h e framew,
t h a t we w i l l be a b l e through a n e f f o r t of t h e ~nind
t o " c o r r e c t c e r t a i n commencing i r r e d u l a r i t i e s of
t h e system, and f o r b i d Cinvolun t a r y ac tione]";
b u t a l s o t h a t through t h i s mesns of mind over mat-
ter, t h e r e is the " p o s s i b i l i t y of maintaining t h e
human body i n p e r p e t u a l youth and vigour. tt38
although Godwin
hd
does n o t t a l k of lfabsS,lute immorta-
l i t y of manqt, he does f o r e c a s t t h a t t h e inankind of
" c u l t i v a t e d and v i r t u o u s mindqf of the f u t u r e * ' w i l l
probably cease t o propagate.
The whole w i l l be
people of men, and n o t of c h i l d r e n . f139 Though
+
t h i s i s a l l very vague, there i s c e r t a i n l y s t a t e d
a hope t o by-yass s e x u a l g r a t i f i c a t i o n s which
"please a t preEent b y t h e i r n o v e l t y , t h a t i s ,
because we know n o t how t o e s t i m a t e them. st40
No
wonder Nary had h e s i t a t i o n s r e g a r d i n g s u c c e s s f u l
m"dern-Prometheanism.
I n h i s sensitive interpreta-
t i o n , Robert Kiely s e e s F r a m - e n s t e i n ' s 'lpresurnptionn
a s t h e attempt
t o uoufp the power of womann,
to
e l i m i n a t e t h e need for woman i n t h e c r e a t i v e a c t ,
t o make sex unnecessary*,,41
Thus Mary makes h e r Frankens te in-Prome t h e u s
s u f f e r the vulture o f self-doubt and remorse which
she f e l t he should s u f f e r .
Even though the p a t t e r n
of the penitent over-reacher is a common one i n
l i t e r a t u r e , .vlnry oHes a d i r e c t debt to her f a t h e r ' s
attempt t o worK out the consequences of t h i s thought
a r t i s t i c a l l y because modeled b'rdnkenstein's
(and
the Creature's) complex v a c i l l a t i o n s on the f i c t i o n a l
characters of h i s two novels Csleb i ' b i l l i s m s and
St. Leon.
Falkland, i n Csleb Rilliams, r i v a l s Frankenstein
i n the frequency of his lamentations of r e g r e t and
the reso#rcefulness w i th which he jue tif i e s and
c a r r i e s o u t the hiding of h i s "crime11. Yet t h a t ,
even h i s agony, he continues t o nurture admiration
f o r megalomaniac ambition i s shoun when he educates
young Csleb t o appreciate Alexander the Great a s
a model of "honour, generosity, and d i s i n t e r e s t e d ness..
.
[and of] c u l t i v a t e d l i b e r a l i t y of mind."
When Caleb objects t h a t Alexander murdered o r enslaved
whole t r i b e s i n order t o r e a l i z e h i s p r o j e c t s , Falkner
urges him t o be more l l l i b e r a l i ' :
The death of a hundred thousand hen is a t
f i r s t s i g h t very shocxing; but what i n r e a l i t y
a r e a hundred thousand such men, more than
a hundred thousand sheep?
This was the p r o j e c t
of Alexander; he s e t out i n a g r e a t undertaking
t o c i v i l i z e mankind; he d e l i v e r e d the v a s t
continent of Asia f r o s the s t u p i d i t y and
degradation of the Persian monarchy. 42
But Caleb, the c r e a t u r e Falkland r a i s e d from huable
peasant t o be h i s s e c r e t a r y , i s prompted by h i s
w c u r i o s i t y " t o push t h e conversation f u r t h e r , and
s o challenges Falkland t o j u s t i f y ~ l e x a n d e r ' sand,
by implication, Falkland's own Itexcesses of ungovernable passion".
Falkland p o i n t s out ~ l e x a n d e r ' s
very human remorse:
Do you not remember h i s t e a r s , h i s remorse,
determined abstinence from food, which
h could s c a r c e l y be perauaded t o r e l i n q u i s h ?
Did not t h a t prove acute f e e l i n g and a rooted
p r i n c i p l e of e q u i t y ? 43
hr
I n s p i t e of the f a c t t h a t tne r e s t of the novel
exposes the i n j u s t i c e s of P & l ~ l a n d ' sgod-like tyranny
over ~ o l e b ? by the end, Cnleb co.nes t o r e g r e t the
h e r o i c z e a l w i t r l which he confronted t h e hypocrisy
of Falkland.
I n h i s remorse a f t e r the death of
Falkland, he f o r g i v e s h i s "god" i n terms which
r e c a l l ~ a l k l a n d ' se a r l i e r l e s s o n on Alexander:
A nobler s p i r i t l i v e d not among the sane
of men. Thy i n t e l l e c t u a l powers were t r u l y
sublime, and thy bosom burned w i t h god-like
ambition. B u t of what use a r e t a l e n t s and
s e n t i m e n t s i n t h e c o r r u p t w i l d e r n e m of human
s o c i e t y ? 45
Through his own exyerienoee of s u f f e r i n g which
f i n n l l y drove him t o ''rnur2eP Falklund, C ~ h bcomes
t o understand how the i n i t i a l benevolence of galkland
was poisoned by u n j u ~ ts o c i e t y .
The C r e a t u r e ' s
p a t t e r n of behaviour is not u n l i k e t n a t of Caleb
e s ~ e c i a l l yi n h i s f i n a l agony of s e l f - r e p e n t a n c e
over s rank en stein's body.
Victor becomes t o h i s
nmurdersrw: " t h e s e l e c t specimen of a l l t h a t i s
worthy of love and a d m i r a t i o n among men" (F: XXIV, 222).
I n a s i n g l e p h r a s e , the C r e a t u r e i d e n t i f i e s t h e
4
e s s e n t i a l c o n t r a d i c t i o n w i t h i n F r a n k e n s t e i n ' s (and
~ a l k l a n d ' s ) c h a r a c t e r and h i s own ambigwus ~tDi+i.u-de
towards h i s c r e a t o r ; ne c a l l s F r a m e n ~ t e i n ,"generous
and self-devoted being. It 46
I n working---o u t the consequences
of F r a n k e n s t e i n ' s
"--.
"
withdrawal from his f a m i l y , Mary Shelley could draw
on a n o t h e r of ~ o d ~ i n a' tst e m p t s t o ~ o r ko u t moral
p r i n c i ~ ~ l ebys embodying them i n a novel, t h i s time
h i s St. Leon of 1799.
I n a strsight-forward reading
of St. Leon, Marguerite, S t . Leon's w i f e , i s everywhere admired f o r her boundless v i r t u e and equanimity
even when St.
eon's v i c e s caused p o v e r t y , dishonour,
and t h e i r s o n ' s disappearance.
l o v e i s h e r immediate family.
The sphere of h e r
S t Leon d e s c r i b e s h e r
this way :
Eenevolent she was almost beyond human example,
and i n t e r e ~ t e df o r t h e w e l f a r e of a l l she
knew, but t h e s e were b r i e f and mutable concerns;
they were n o t i n c o r p o r a t e d with the s t a n i n a of
h e r e x i e t e n c e . I was t h e whole world t o h e r ;
she had no i d e a of m t i s f a c t i o n without me... 47
Throughout t h e n o v e l , S t . Leon is c o n t i n u a l l y con-
fessing his i n f e r i o r i t y t o ~ u c ha mate because h e
is n o t conLeni with h i s own or( h i s femily's approb a t i o n b u t s e e k s fame and s o c i a l r e c o g n i t i o n .
When
he f i n a l l y g a i n s the g h i l o s o p h e r ' s s t o n e and t h e
e l i x i r of l i f e , he i s bound t o secrecy; and because
of this and h i a alchemical s k i l l s which g i v e him
immortality and unlimited x e a l t h , he i s god-like,
c u t o f f from t h e r e s t of t h e specie^.
But, l i k e
F r a n k e n s t e i n , he does not r e j o i c e a t h i s " d i v i n i t y 1 ' ;
he becomes t h e most miserable and g u i l t - r i d d e n of
men.
Godwin recognized t h a t he seemed t o have
changed h i s opinions.
I n h i s p r e f a c e , he w r i t e s :
Some r e a d e r s of my g r a v e r p r o d u c t i o n s w i l l
perhaps, i n p e r u s i n g t h e s e l i t t l e volumes,
accuse me of i n c o n s i s t e n c y ; the a f f e c t i o n s
and c h a r i t i e s of p r i v a t e l i f e beind everywhere i n t h i s p u b l i c a t i o n a t o p i c of the warme s t eulogium, while i n t h e dnauiry concerning
P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e , they seemed t o be t r e a t e d
with no g r e a t de,ree of indulgence and f a v o u r , 48
He a t t r i b u t e d h i s new understandin,
of human r e -
l a t i o n s h i p s t o h i s b r i e f experience of domestic
b l i s s w i t h bhary Wollstonecraf t.
Yet Godwin's former
a t t i t u d e s i n t h i s m a t t e r s l l l l t r i c k l e through i n
t h e novel because, even when S t , Leon is accusing
himself of the v i l e s t of v i c e s , he w i l l r i s e above
h i s g u i l t and make such odd a s s o c i a t i o n s a6 seeing
Marguerite a s "a n e s t of scorpions". 49
once he even
a r t i c u l a t e s h i s mixed f e e l i n g s :
A t some times I honoured Marguerite f o r h e r
equanimity. A t o t h e r & , I almost d e s p i s e d
h e r f o r t h i s i n t e g r i t y of h e r v i r t u e s . I
accused h e r i n my h e a r t of being d e s t i t u t e
of the spark of t r u e n o b i l i t y . Her p a t i e n c e
1 considered a s l i t t l e l e s s than meanness
and v u l g a r i t y of s p i r i t . 50
I
C l e a r l y , Frl-mhenst e i n embodies a s i m i l a r ambivalence.
d a c t i c warning t o Walton:
Learn from me, If n o t by my p r e c e p t e , a t
l e a s t By
emmple, how dangerous i s the
,
acquirement of knowledge, and how much happier
t h a t man i s who b e l i e v e s h i s n a t i v e town to
be the world, than he who a s p i r e s t o become
g r e e t e r than h i s nature w i l l allow (F: IV, 56).
I
A t the same
-'
time, however, the s o ~ i a land domes t i c
order i s shown t o be l i f e l e ~ sand 1 11nit e d
.
Yomover,
--- -
the s t r o n g e s t s e l f - c r i t i c i s m s of b'rmkenstein a r e
n o t f o r a c t u a l l y c r e a t i n g the m a w aar f o r abandoning himr
I n urging Vialton to undertake the mission
\
i
1
t o destroy the Creature, he concludes:
During these l a s t day8 I have been occupied
i n examining my p a s t conduct; nor do I f i n d
i t blameable.
I n a fit of e n t h u s i a s t i c madn e s s I created a r a t i o n a l c r e a t u r e , and was
bound towards h i m , t o a s s u r e , a s f a r as was
i n my power, h i s h a p p i n e ~ sand well-being.
1311s was my duty; but there was another s t i l l
paramount t o that. n(y d u t i e s towards the
beings of my own s p e c i e s had g r e a t e r claims
t o my a t t e n t i o n because they included a g r e a t e r
proportion of happineso o r misery (F: XXIV, 217).
H e condtism --Marsel?
- - - -f o r i s o l a t i n g himself from h i s
family and r"rlmi5*Clerval because they would be the
I-c---
n a t u r a l a i d s t o balancing h i 8 misguided ideas.
- .-
Accordingly, Robert d i e l y . n. o t e s t h a t Frankenstein
has already "eliminated" h i s loved ones from h i s
l i f e while he i s studying i n I n g o l s t a d t ; t h e Monster's
e l i m i n a t i o n of the v i c t i m s is merely "a grotesquely
51
exaggerated enactment of h i s own b e h a v i o u ~ ~ ~ .
When V i c t o r is l o o k i n g back on t h e time t h a t h i s
f a t h e r wrote t h a t he regarded "any i n t e r r u g t i o n i n
your c ~ r r e s p o n d e n c ea s a proof t h a t your o t h e r d u t i e s
a r e e q u a l l y neglected" (I?:
IV, 5 8 ) , Victor recognizes
-
h i s f a t h e r ' s wisdom and s e l f -consci~uslym o r a l i z e s
/--.-----
that :
-
A human b e i n g i n p e r f e c t i o n ought always t o
p r e s e r v e a calm and p e a c e f u l mind, and never
t o allow p a s s i o n or t r a n s i t o r y d e ~ i r et o
d i s t u r b h i s i r a n q u i l l i t y , I do n o t t h i n k
t h s t the : u r s u i t of knov,led;e i s an e x c e p t i o n
t o t h i # r u l e . Jf the study t o v i h w Y O U
a ~ ~ l y . , ~ o u r shas
e l f a tendency t o weaken Your
a f i e c t i o n s , and t o d e s t r o y your t a s t e f o r those
simpfe p l e a s u r e s i n which no a l l o y can p o s s i b l y
all*&
any puraui t whn tsoever ,to i n t e r f e r e
w i t h the t r a n q u i l l i t y of his domeotic a f f e c t i o n s , Greece had n o t been e m l a v e d ;
Caesar would have spared h i s country; America
would have been discovered more g r a d u a l l y ;
and t h e empires of Mexico and Peru had n o t
been destroyed (F: IV, 59; nly i t a l i c s ) .
h i e e t y ,
his t
appewe.
_
. ---He i s i n e r r o r i f,._--_
he isolatee
~.__--. himself.
I
-
and. h g l if
iai!
a
F
.-?u
the %.ggixix?-' 8
The Creature b l a ~ e shis a l i e n a t i o n
from community f o r causing the l o s s of h i s p o t e n t i a l
goodness: ''The love of another w i l l destroy my crimes.
My v i c e s a r e the -child-ren-of
I abhor1' (F: X V I I , 149).
a forced s o l i t u d e t h a t
Robert Oppenheimer, the
<
p h y s i c i s t is a voice of a twentieth-century Frankens t e i n obsessed with exploring h i s g u i l t i n the nuclear
catastrophes of Hgiroshima and Nagasaki; he too has
been l e d t o finding e v i l i n the i s o l a t i o n which the
s c i e n t i f i c disci~linesc u l t i v a t e :
.
S c i e n t i f i c knowledge..
has become the property of sdecialized communities who may on
occasion help one another but who, by and
l a r g e , pursue t h e i r own way w i t h growing int e n s i t y f u r t h e r and f u r t h e r from t h e i r r o o t s
i n ordinary l i f e . 52
Once more the@ J r a w e n s t e i n i a condemned, not because
he "trod heaven i n [hie]
in..
. [his]
...
thoughlo, not exulting
powers, novi burning ~ i t hthe idea of
t h e i r effeatsu ( p : XXTV, 2121, but because he does
not reconcile h i s a c t i o n s with human r e l a t i o n s h i p s
nor, f o r t h a t matter, w i t h h i s n a t u r a l environment.
I n January, 1817, while she was working on Franken-
stein,
Mary read a s i m i l a r idea i n Coleridye's
Statesman's Manual of 1816. 53
nology :
I n oler ridge's termi-
t h e r a t i o n a l i n s t i n c t , t h e r e f o r e , taken abstracteciljr
and unbalanced, did i n itself,,. and i n i t s
consequences..
form the o r i g i n a l t e m p t a t i o n
through which man f e l l : and i n a l l a e s h a s
c o n &inued t o o r i g i n a t e the same,,
&ligiOn
a s the c o n s i d e r a t i o n of the p i r t i c u l a r and
individusl..
a s s i g n s the due l i m i t s ,
[to
the conternpls Lion of the u n i v e r s a l and t h e
obstract ] . %
.
.
.
..
Frankenetein re-cnac t s t h i s o r i ~ i n a ls i n ; he i s
----
,-""-.*-
--
a n abogtive a2~dern-P~oas
thew bacausB hs $ 4 1 6 to
humcjnizs h;Ls ,gpQ.-like discovery
.
Again, w i t h t h i s theme, Mary S h e l l e y i s expanding on one of Godwin's c e n t r a l obsessions,
Though
Godwin might be d i s c u s s i n g ~ r a n k e n s t e i n ' a m o r d
dilemma i n any number of places i n E n a u i r ~c o n c e r w
ing P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e , one ex:imple s u f f i c e s t o show
how d e l i c a t e the balance be tween the creativu" g e n i u s
and h i s community should b e :
I t i s a c u r i o u s subject, t o e n q u i r e i n t o
the due nedium between i n d i v i d u a l i t y and
concert.. , I n s o c i e t y , no man, p o s s e s s i n g
the genuine marks of a man, c a n s t a n d slone...
H e that would attempt t o counter-act i t
[social influencej.
by i n s u l a t i n g h i m s e l f ,
w i l l f a l l i n t o a wor8e e r r o r than that which
he s e e k s t o avoid. He w i l l d i v e s t himself
of the c h a r a c t e r of man, and be i n c a p a b l e
of judging of h i s f e l l o w men, o r of reasoning
upon human a f f a i r s . On t h e o t h e r hand, ind i v i d u a l i t y i s of the very essence of int e l l e c t u u l excellence. He t h a t r e s i g n s hims e l f wholly t o sympathy and i m i t a t i o n , c a n
..
s t r e n g t h o r accuracy.. .
Reo slsievses sl fi ot tr lgee t oft i n gmental
and f o r g o t . He h ~ dse s e r t e d
h i s s t a t i o n i n human s o c i e t y .
be b e n e f i t e d by him, 55
Mankind cannot
As & e l l e y p o i n t s o u t , t h e d e s i r e f o r fame (which
- .I^_ --
Walton s h a r e s ) i s n o t n e c e s s s r i l y a n t i - s o c i a l :
There i s a $ r e a t e r r o r i n t h e world with
r e e p e c t t o the s e l f i s h n e s s of fame, I t i s
c e r t a i n l y p o s s i b l e t h a t a person should seek
d i s t i n c t i o n a s a medium of p e r a o n s l g r a t i f i c a t i o n . But t h e love of f a a e i s f r e q u e n t l y
no more than a d e s i r e t h a t t h e f e e l i n g s of
o t h e r should confirm, i l l u s t r a t e , and symp a t h i z e w i t h , our own. 56
.-
\
,-
Godwin would approve of Frankenstein f o l l o w i n g h i s
Natural independence, a freedon from a l l cons t r a i n t , except t h a t of r e a s o n s and inducements
presented t o the understanding, i s of the u t most importance t o t h e w e l f a r e and improvement of mind. Moral independence, on t h e
Tfie dependence,
c o n t r a r y , i s always i n j u r i o u s .
which is e s s e n t i a l , i n t h i s r e s g e c t , t o the
wholesome temperament of s o c i e t y , includes
i n i t a r t i c l e s t h a t a r e , no doubt, unpalatable
t o a multiLude of the present race of mankind,
b u t t h a t ohe t h e i r unpopularity only t o weakn e s s and vice. I t includes ti censure t o be
exercised by every i n d i v i d u a l over the a c t i o n 8
of another, a promptness t o enquire i n t o and
t o judge them. Why should we shrink from this?
M a t could be more b e n e f i c i a l than for each
man t o derive a s s i s t a n c e f o r c o r r e c t i n g and
moulding h i s conduct from the p e r ~ p i c a c i t y
of h i s neighbours? 57
Frankenstein, moreover, Lnsiats on working a t
-- ---d . When he P
the tach-J..-e
an
A
r---
c--.cI"y-
nical
how t o prpceed:
t . w . g e , he considers
..
,,. . -...-
.
,
a
.
he". makes
--.
the f a t d judgea-
a
men$ ltooa&aa~y
to my f i r s t intentiont' to maks the
creature of giganti0 proportion.
Ghy?
'@The ainu tenese
(F: XV, 56-7). I t i s t h i s h a s t e and imgatience t o
c r e a t e a being by himself which l e a d s t o h i s a c t
of c r e a t i o n being monstrous both l i t e r a l l y and morally.
I t is t r u e t h a t Godwin looked forward t o the " a m i h i -
1 s t i o n t 1 of the " b r u t e enginev of p o l i t i c a l government which hindered the p r o g r e s s o f mankind f o r ward t o a transformed s o c i e t y ,58 but he did not
9dvocat@ rapid change which would v i o l a t e t h e d e l i c a t e communal s t r u c t u r e , here compared by him t o
t h e body's frame:
Yet upon the whole, i t may be, l i k e some
excrescences and d e f e c t s i n the human frame,
i t cannot immediately be removed w i thou t
i n t r o d u c i n g some thing worse. I n the machine
o f human s o c i e t y a l l t h e wheels ..iust move
together. He t h a t should v i o l e n t l y a t tempt
t o r a i s e any one p a r t i n t o a c o n d i t i o n more
e x a l t e d than the r e s t , o r f o r c e i t t o s t a r t
away from it^ f e l l o w s would be the enemy, and
not the b e n e f a c t o r , of h i s contemporaries..
the interests of the human s p e c i e s r e q u i r e s
a g r a d u a l , b u t u n i n t e r r u p t e d change. 59
.
T h i s i s t h e essence of what Mary demonstrates i n
Frankenatein.
I n f a c t , t h e judgement t h a t Fran~ien----
- -_. -_
*
-- - . .
*-
- -.
stein'e orestive a c t i s t o be c o n e i h e ~ e da malevolent ttmachinationlt depends a g r e a t d e a l i n the novel
-
<-
on t h e f a c t that the community i s n o t ready t o
b e l i e v e i n h i s a c t i o n s and, a s he c o n s t a n t l y f e a r s ,
w i l l , t h e r e f o r e , s e e him a s mad.
Juaging from the
- -
h o r r o r which he himself s u p p r e s s e s a s he c a r r i e s
out h i s task of c r e a t i o n , h e , a s a s o c i a l beind,
i s n o t ready f o r the conquest of t h i s d i v i n e a t t r i bute e i t h e r .
We can s e e iflaryls tendency t o p r e s e n t p e s s i m i s t i c a l l y " t h i n g s a s they a r e " , i f we compare h e r
a r t i s t i c attempt t o embody modern-Frometheanism
w i t h S h e l l e y ' s whole-hearted attempt i n h i s
s-
metheus Unbound which ends up a s a triumphant s t a t e ment of t h e wsy t h i n g s w i l l be.
I r o n i c a l l y , before
~ a r y ' sFrankenstein: the Modern Prometheus, i n h i 6
n o t e s t o Queen Mab of 1812, a h e l l e y f i r s t used Prometheus a s a symbol of the fall of man from vegetarianism.
From Hesiod, he l e a r n e d t h a t man l i v e d
without s u f f e r i n g before Prometheus t r i c & e d Zeus
i n t o l e t t i n g man have the f l e s h while beus g o t t h e
f a t and bones:
Prome theus (who r e p r e s e n t s the human race)
e f f e c t e d some m e a t charwe i n the c o n d i t i o n
of h i s m t u r q , and a p p l i e d f i r e t o c u l i n a r y
purposes--thus i n v e n t i w an expedient f o r
screening from h i s d i s g u s t t h e h o r r o r s of
t h e shsmbles. Prom t h i s moment h i s v i t a l s
were devoured by the v u l t u r e of d i s e a s e . I t
consumed h i s being i n every shape of i t s
loathsome v a r i e t y , inducing the soul-quelling
s i n k i n d s of premature and v i o l e n t death.
A l l v i c e rose f r o a the r u i n of h e a l t h f u l
innocence. Tyranny, s u p e r s t i t i o n , commerce
and i n e q u a l i t y were then f i r s t known when
reason v a i n l y attempted t o guide the wan3eri n g e of exacerbated pasaion. (my i t a l i c s ) 60
Even h e r e , he a l r e a d y has the elnbryo idea of h i s
l a t e r syjnbolic value of rroi~letileus.
*y t h e time Shelley wrote t o Godwin f o r the
f i r s t time i n 1611, he wae d r e a d y convinced t h a t
the modern-Promethean hoges f o r bringing heaven down
t o e a r t h were realizable.
%ry
i n Mathilda h a s her
S h e l l e y - l i k e churuc t e r , Youoville, u r r i c u l n t e S h e l l e y ' s
l i f e - m i s s i o n a s she saw i t :
Believe me, I w i l l never d e s e r t l i f e u n t i l 1 [sic)
t h i a l a s t hope i s t o r n from my bosom, that
in some way my l a b o u r s may form a l i n k i n
t h e chain of gold with which we ought a l l
t o s t r i v e t o drag Happiness from where she
s i t s enthroned above the clouds, now far
beyond our reach, t o i n h a b i t the e a r t h w i t h
US.
61
And i t i s b a s i c a l l y Enlightenment f a i t h which Shelley
embodies in h i s Prometheus Unbound of 1819: if man
can be f r e e d from tyrulny and h i s mind l i b e r a t e d
from ignorance, then man i s cupable of p e r f e c t i n g
himself through reason.
The e f f o r t s of the i n d i v i d u a l
i n c o n t r i b u t i n g "a l i n k i n the chain" may be judged
''mad" o r " e v i l " by h i s down-trodden c o n ternporr-iries,
b u t S h e l l e y is a b l e , with u i d e r o l , t o r e p l a c e o t h e r -
worldline~si n the f u t u r e ; " P o s t e r i t y is for t h e
P h i l s o p h e r what the otlier world i ~ ;f o r the r e l i g i o u s , tt 62
"nee he began writhing t o Godwin, Shellejr , who was
i n I r e l a n d beginning t o organize groups f o r r e s i s t a n c e
a g a i n s t p o l i l . i c u 1 and s o c i a l tyretrmy, w a s confronted
with and grew t o a c c e p t Godwinian grndualism.
T h i ~
passage i s from one of Godwin's l e t t e r s t o h i r i n
Ireland:
Discussion, r e a d i n g , e n q u i r y , perpe t u u l communication: t h e ~ eare my f a v o r i t e method&
for the irLprovement o f mankind, b u t a s s o c i a t i o n s , organized s o c i e t i e c , I firamly condemn.
You may as well t e l l the adder n o t t o s t i n g , , ,
as t e l l . organized s o c i e t i e ~of men, a s s o c i a t e d
t o obtain t h e i r r i g h t 6 and t o e x t i n q u i b h oppression--prompted by a deep a v e r ~ i o nt o ine q u a l i t y , luxury, enormous t a x e s , and t h e e v i l s
of war,--to be innocent, t o employ no v i o l e n c e ,
and calmly t o await t h e p r o d r e s s of truth... 63
T h i s is t h e c e n t r a l l e s s o n which t h e suffering Prometheus i n Act One of Prome theus Unbound cornes t o
learn: " t o calmly await t h e p r o g r e w o f t r u t h u .
The chained ~ r o r n e t h e u swelcori~es t h e change from day
t o n i g h t because of:
Their w i n g l e s s , crawling n o u r s , one among whom
--As solce dhrk P r i e s t h e l e e t h e r e l u c t a n t victim-a h a l l dray t h e e , c r u e l ling, to K i s s the blood
r'rorn thebe p a l e f e e t , With then might grample
thee
If they disdained n o t such a p r o s t r a t e slave.
~ i s d a i n ! Ah no! I p i ty thee. 'Ghat r u i n
K i l l h u n ~thee undefended t h r o ' wide "eaven!
How w i l l thy s o u l , cloven t o i te depth w i t h
terror,
Gape l i k e h e l l within!
I speak i n g r i e f ,
Not e x u l t a t i o n , f o r I h a t e no more,
As then e r e misery made me wise. 64
.
The only a t t i t u__.-.
d e which can -prevent
the e v e n t u a l
_l_l__..---IY...--
-
111__-
triumph of the modern-Pro,nethean
s p i r i t --is d e__.
s p a i-r ;
*
L
I
-
-I---
1"
I
-
t h i s temptation is presented t o prometheus i n Act
One by t h e psychological t o r t u r e s of the F u r i e s
who m o r n Prometheus's boast t o have awakened " c l e a r
knowledgeqt and recount t h e h o r r o r of how mankind
has dLstor t e d and confused 'i'ruth
C h r i s t ' s teachings) to j u s t i f y its s l a v i s h mentality:
Hypocrisy and custom make t h e i r minds
The f a n e s of many u worship, now outworn.
'hey d a r e n o t d e v i t e good f o r man's e s t a t e
And yet they know n o t tha t they do n o t d a r e ,
The good want power, b u t t o weep b a r r e n t e a r s .
The powerful dOodnes€3 want: worse need f o r them.
The wise want love; and those who l o v e want
wisdom;
And a l l be&t t h i n g s a r e thus confused t o ill.
Many are s t r o n g and r i c h , and would be j u s t ,
Out l i v e among t h e i r s u f f e r i n g fellow-men
As if none f e l t : they know n o t what they do. 65
F o r t u n a t e l y , S h e l l e y ' s modern-Prometheus h a s a l r e a d y
reached t h a t t r a n q u i l l e v e l of i n t , e l l e c t u t l l awareness
which allows him t o l o v i n g l y withdmw h i s vengeful
o a t h once u t t e r e d a g a i n s t J u p i t e r and t o a w a i t
the change which '.lust come.
This 1s the h i s t o r i c a l
p r o c e s s which Godvtin promised: i f man by man withdraws h i s b l i n d confidence and support of tyranny,
a "euthanasia" would spsntaneously occur.
Each
man must c u l t i v a t e the qua1iLies of Freedom u n t i l :
lie cannot be degraded; ne cannot r e a d ~ l y
become e i t h e r u s e l e s s o r unhappy. He s m i l e s
a t the impotence of aespotlsm; he f i l l s up
h i s e x i s t e n c e with s e r e n e enjoyrnent and
i n d u s t r i o u s benevolence. C i v i l l i b e r t y i s
c h i e f l y d e s i r a b l e a6 a oeans t o procure and
p e r p r e t u a t e t h i s temper of mind. They t h e r e f o r e begin a t the wrong end, who make h a s t e
t o over t u r n and confound the usurped powers
of the world. Made men a i s e , and by t h a t
very o p e r a t i o n you make them f r e e . C i v i l
l i b e r t y follow6 a s a consequence of t h i s ;
no usurped power can s t a n d a g a i n b t the a r t i l lery of opinion. Everything then i s i n o r d e r ,
and succeeds a t the appointed time. Hoa
unfortunate i s i t t h a t men a r e s o e a g e r t o
s t r i k e and have s o l i t t l e constancy t o reason! 67
S o c i a l change cone& of n e c e s s i t y ( ~ e c o g o r g o n )I t a t t h e
appointed time";
Prome t h e u s ' s t r a n q u i l s t a t e of
mind; t h a t is, t h a t of t h e whole s p e c i e s of mankind,
i s a pre-condition f o r i t .
I n Act 11, Asia d e s c r i b e s
t h i s h i s t o r i c a l process:
H ~ ~ K the
!
rushing &now!
The s u n - a a a ~ e n e d ,dvnlanche! whose mass,
Thrice s i f t e d by the s t o m , h ~ dg a t h e r e d t h e r e
F l a ~ ea f t e r f l a ~ e ,i n hesven d e f y i n g minds
A s thought by thought i s p i l e d , t i l l sol:le
great truth
Is loosened, and t h e n a t i o n s echo round,
Shaken t o t h e i r r o o t s , as do the mountains
now, 68
Moreover, j u s t ns Mary Shelley dernonetra t e t~h a t
ranke en stein-Prometheus
errs by s e p a r a t i n g himself
from l o v e , Percy S h e l l e y ' s h o m e theus m u s t join
f o r c e s with Asia b e f o r e Demogorgon can be moved t o
action.
Asia i s the symbol of love i n the poem
and c o n t a i n s a number of aspects of which 1 can only
mention two.
Eefore J u p i t e r ' s f a l l , she i s the l o v i n g ,
close-to-nature
love,
...
s i d e of man.
"Common a s light ie
I t makes the r e p t i l e e q u a l t o the God., ,,t 69
After J u p i t e r ' ~f a l l , she u n i t e s with Promethean
i n t e l l e c t , thus ledding t o u more a b s t r a c t b r o t h e r hood-of-man
concept of love:
Tne loathesome mosK has f a l l e n , the Man remains,-S c e p t r e l e s s , f r e e , uncircumccribed,--but man:
Squal, unclassed, t r i b e l e s s and n a t i o n l e s s
Exempt from awe, worship, de;ree, the King
Over himself; j u s t , g e n t l e , ~ i s e ; - - b u t man:
P a s s i o n l e s s ? no: y e t f r e e from g u i l t o r p a i n ,
a h i c h were, f o r h i s w i l l :nade, o r s u f f e r e d them,
A o r y e t exempt, tho' r u l i n g them l i ~ es l a v e s ,
z r ~ i n chance, and dea t h , and m u t a b i 1i t y ,
The c l o g s of t h s t which e l s e might oversoar
The l o f t i e s t s t a r of unascended heaven,
Pinnacled dim i n the i n t e n s e inane. 70
I n t h e s e l i n e s , we have the essence of S h e l l e y ' s
v i s i o n of s u c c e s s f u l modern-Prometheanism.
floreover,
C a r l Grabo, i n h i s book, A Newton Among P o e t s which
emphasizes the ef Ceci that S h e l l e y ' s s t u d y of s c i e n t i f i c thought ( p a r t i c u l a r l y of d r n a m u ~D a r k i n , had
on the poem, illustrates t h a t Asis i s some s o r t of
e l e c t r i c a l phenomenon i n t h e universe. 7'
This
n a t u r a l f o r c e j o i n s with man's i n t e l l e c t t o form
the heaven-on-earth
of Ac t IV which i s not an i m -
2 r s c t i c a l dream b u t S h e l l e y ' s a t t e m p t t o embody hie
f a i t h i n the s c i e n t i f i c p r o g r e s s of man,
The
new o r d e r i s v e r y much dependent on man's a b i l i t y
t o control nature:
The l i g h t n i n g i s h i s slaver hn:ivant6 ut:aost
deep
Gives up her stars, and l i k e a f l o c k of sheep
'hej puss before h i s e y e , o r e reineinbered, and
r o l l on.
The tempest i s his s t e e d , he s t r i l l e s t h e a i r ;
And the a b y s o s h o u t s froixl her d e d t h s l a i d b a r e ,
Heaven, h a s thou s e c r e t s ? ban u n v e i l s me;
I have none. 72
The l a s t a c t ends i n c i t i n g u s t o the modern-Pro-
netnean a t t i t u d e : " t o hope t i l l Hope c r e a t e s from
i t s own wreck the thing i t c o n t e r n p l a ~ e o . ~ '
How cowardly and how complex F r s l u e n s t e i n
l o o k s b e s i d e s S h e l l e y ' s P r o m tneus.
Poor Frentcenate_iq
i s n o_ t a b l e t o - trunscgnd
hi-&g u i l t and sufferiAQg,
-- -._i n o r d e r__-t-o ~ e a c h - b e y o n dt o any canfic;iRnt&ranquil
--)_-
^
_
I
-
-
once, wnile he i s a t the tomb
s t a t e of mind.-_-- Only---
-
- -
of Hampden, does h e have any i n k l i n g t h a t h i s own
a t t i t u d e s enslsve him:
For a moment my s o u l was e l e v a t e d from i t s
deb9sing and miserable f e a r s , t o contemplate
the d i v i n e i d e a s of l i b e r t y 3nd s e l f - s a c r i f i c e , of which t h e s e s i g h t s were the monuments and the remembrancers. For an i n s t a n t
I dared t o shake o f f my c h a i n s , and look
around me a i t h a f r e e and l o f t y s p i r i t b u t
the i r o n hnd e a t e n i n t o my PlecA, and
eank
a g a i n , treiabling and h o p e l e s s , i n t o my miserable s e l f (F: X I X , 162).
i
"ecause Mary has s t r w tured F r--a n ~ a n e t e i n8'
-
<
-
and censoring, s l o in^-down
~
s o c i a l conservu t i s m
( ~ e u s ' e. t y r w y ) , the n e c e s s i t y f o r balanced c h a- -w 8-
i s e s s e n t i a l f o r the l i f e of t h i s i n d i v i d u a l organism,
and by extrapola.ti.on+ f o r the, life af the s p e c i e s .
Frankenetein i s a t the vanguard of the spec1es.
-
_----C-
The main reason Mary Shelley constructed the Wal ton
_ _ _ _ C .
frame-story was t o lead the.s&eg,-to
-
glace the meanfailure
ing of F r a n ~ e ntein's
s
indi~ridu-.
i n the context of the whole spe~lala,-,t8,h~ruggle
towards
improvement
.
Franttens t e i n
t@-g-wI~head
- -'-s presumpt>c~_ ___
_-
i s t r a g i c n o t because*.
/--
the universe, b u t becauke of its prematurity seen in
\
-
relv tionship t o the "wingleLs, cra%ling1'movement
of human history.
Caprain I a l t o n too hue the
d i s t i n c t charts teqis tics of a would-be modern-Prome theus,
and hi8 dependence- - on the readiness of h i s crew t o
proceed forward i a d r a m t i z e d by Yary ' 8 placing
I
-I-
of t h i s s h i p of human struggle i n a h o s t i l e , a l i e n
Walton himself is willing t o d i e f o r
- - - ..---. ."
-----the knowledge he seeks, " f o r the dominion I ehould
environment.
-
---
acquire and transmit over the elemental t o e s of our
..
race."
(F: Let.
, 32).
VYhe t h e r poet or explorer
( o r s c i e n t i s t ) , he needs t o boldly uncover the
mysteries
of l i f e .
- ---
His words: "Thece is something
*E1
.--
a t work i n my s o u l which I do n ~ ~tp A s G g n d "(F:
Let.,
26), suggest the
agll
he f e e l s towards entering
i n t o the i n e v i t a b l e process of hietory.
Unlike
t h e v i s i o n a r y scenes of Act 111 and I V of Prometheus
Unbound, ~ a r y ' sWalton can only a r t i c u l a t e t h e end
of h i s e f f o r t s as being "a country of e t e r n a l l i g h t "
where "he may t r e a d a l a n d never b e f o r e imprinted
by t h e f o o t of man."
(F: Let.,
21).
(The language
is remarkably l i d e t h a t of our wconquerors" of the
moon, )
The shig&_raan&ind,
then, may be on its
way toward human enlightenment, but f o r Mary t h e r e
.-
was l i t t l e h o ~ eof a r r i v i n g , a t l e a s t f o r h e r contemporaries.
W a l t 0 d - e wew fe--not w i l l i n g t o a s p i r e
t o divinity.
? r a n k e n s t e i n ' s e x h o r t a t i o n s do n o t
change t h e i r d e s i r e t o t u r n back:
You were h e r e a f t e r t o be h a i l e d a s the benef a c t o r s of your s p e c i e s ; your names adored
a s belonging t o brave men who encountered
death f o r honour and the benefit of mankind,
And now, behold, w i t h the f i r s t imaginatlon
of danger, o r , i f you w i l l , t h e f i r s t inighty
snd t e r r i f i c t r i a l of your courage, you s h r i n k
away, and a r e c o n t e n t t o be handed down a s
men who had n o t s t r e n g t h enough t o endure c o l d
Oh! be men, o r be more than men.
and p e r i l . . .
(F: XXIV, 215).
The only a c t u a l l i g h t a t the n o r t h p o l e i s the f i r e
i n which the C r e a t u r e , the l l a b o r t i o n w , burns himself
up s o as " t o a f f o r d no l i g h t t o nnJ c u r i o u s and
unhallowed wretch who would c r e a t e a n o t h e r a s 1 have
been." (B: XXIV, 222).
I t i s a bleak ending with
t h e C r e a t u r e going t o d e a t h specul3 Ling, p e r v e r s e l y
i n t h e t r a d i t i o n a l mind-set
i .e.,
, on
other-worldliness,
on whether his s p i r i t w i l l be a l i v e a f t e r
death.
But Walton i s s t i l l y e w n i n g t o go on though he
i s prevented f o r the moment from doing so: and victor'^
l a s t word&,
- - - i n t h e i r appeal t o the o t h e r - w o r l d l i n e s s
of Enlightenment t h o w t , i , e , ,
pas t e r i t y , s t i l l
s t a n d t o b a l a ~ c ethe C r e a t u r e ' s l a s t words: " y e t
a n o t h e r may s u c c e e d 2
Vie a r e l e f t r e a l i z i n g t h a t
i n s p i t e of the c o n s i d e r a b l e w b i v a l e n c e Mary shows
towards modern-Prometheunism,
es2ecially i n the
C r e a t u r e ' s n a r r a t ~ v e ,b a t also i n V i c t o r ' s d i d a c t i c i s m ,
t h a t ~ r a n ~ etne isn ' s a t tempt i s abor Live because
of h i s i n a b i l i t y t o i n c h forward e v e r s e n s i t i v e
t o h i s community't (and h i s own s o c i a l s e l f ' s )
a b i l i t y t o f o l l o w , and, more d e c i d e d l y , because
-- -the
-- f r o n t of human e v o l u t i o n is n o t ready f o r Framen- s t e i n ' s g r e a t l e a p forward (or
-
t
a
&
M
3
d
upwand).
Chapter ' h r e e
MARY SHELLEY k S ARTISTIC ALCHEMIST
I t was the secrets o f heaven and earth
m a t I desired t o learn; and whether i t
was the outward substance o f things
o r the inner s p i r i t o f nature and the
mysterloue soul o f man t h a t occupied me,
s t i l l my inquirieo were phyeicsl s e c r e t s
of the world.
Vic t o r Frankenstein
My last chapter demonstrated t h a t Mary
Shelley t r i e d t o place the meaning ef Frwnkenstein'r~
technelogical
achievement i n relzt.isnship to h i e
community ' 8 readineso t o accept the consequences ef
h i s success a t achieving udlviniiAytt. Yet the "physical
e e c r e t s w ef nature i n t o which Victor inquire@
am i n t e r n a l a s well a s externul.
This chapter
w i l l present the r e a l i z a t i o n of Frankenstein's
alchemical ambitions as o psycholagical experiment
i n which he wdiscavers" what he c a l l s h i s "vampirew
s e l f , and is unable te face the t r u e nature o r h i s
discovery.
I n t h i ~chapter, I am r e l y i n g on the
Jungian i n t e r p r e t a t i o n t h a t the p h i l o s s p i c a l a l c h e m i ~ tof the medieval and Renaissance period was
e x t e r n a l i z i n g h i s i n t e r n a l precesseo ef self-discovery
by means o f pseudo-chemical
terminelegy and operations. 2
A t the Bame time, I see Mary Shelley a s an a r t i s t i c
alchemist o b j e c t i f y i n g the p a t t e r n s and f i n d i n g s
af h e r awn psychological e x p l o r a t i o n s i n V i c t o r ' s a c t
ef c r e a t i o n and i t s aftermath.
Mary ' a
own nhideoue
The novel then i s
patched together
frem the *bonesn she c o l l e c t e d from her biegrayhi-
c a l experiences and her c u l t u r a l inheritances.
That the novel went f o r t h and prospered i n d i c a t e s the
success with which she animated h e r diepartite souroes
into a whole c r e a t i o n ahich somehow, i n the eyrnbelic
rela tionship be tween the crca t o r and the c r e a t u r e ,
a r t i c u l a t e d a psycholegical t r u t h f o r her contemporar i e s and our own century.
Frankenstein i s an e x p l o r a t i o n ef Mary ~ h e l l e y ' s
unconscisus.
As Launcelot Whyte has demonatr~ited
i n h i s The Unconscious Before Freud, t h e idea of t h e
unoonsoious was being expressed and even t r ~ n s f o r m i ~
s c c i e t y before i t was analyzed by Freudm4 In h e r c l e a r e s t
d i ~ c u r s i v estatement of her a r t i s t i c i n t e n t i o n s ,
she prays t h a t she may become aware of her unconscious:
L e t me f e a r l e s s l y descend i n t o the remotest
caverns of my own mind, carry the torch o f
self-knowledge i n t o i t s dimmest recesses:
b u t too happy i f I dislodge any e v i l s g i r i t
or e n m i n e a new deity i n some h i t h e r t o
uninhabi te(i nook.5
Wry' e wri t i r u s show t h a t she pas perpetually seeking
f i c t i o n a l apparatuses t o express her self-exploration.
She i s nowhere a s successful as she was i n
-,
b u t her f a i l u r e 8 reveal her i n t e n t i o n even more
clearly,
For Mathilda, a novells w r i t t e n i n 1819,
ehe t r i e d t o construct a framework i n which t o place
~ a t h i l d a ' shistory.
This fragment, c a l l e d "Fields of
Fancyw, was abandoned, probably because i t
mechanical
and s i l l y .
Wa8
so
Mary t r i e s t o a r t i c u l a t e
the source o f her a r t i s t i c i n s p i r a t i o n as a "wanton
s p i r i t w , Fantasia, who has taken her before t o
various Fairylands and, i n t h i s s t o r y , f l i e s her
t o the Blysian f i e l d s t o hear ~ i o t i m a ,~~o c m t e s '
i n 6 t r u c t r o s s , give a speech on the s e c r e t s o f the
universe which concludee: "1 can knob n 0 t h i n g . ~ ~ 7
A dreamy youth l i s t e n s and i s captivated, but a
s u f f e r i n g maiden, Mathilda, i s about to t r y out
the t r u t h s of her own turbulent and painful l i f e
against Diotima'
6
t r a n q u i l v i s i o n s when the s p i r i t
of Pantasia fades.
This i s no more awkward than the trappings
with which she introduced The Last Man of 1826, 8
I n the author's introduction, she and her f r i e n d
v i s i t s i b y l ' s Cave.
They i n s i s t on going deeper
and lower i n t o the passages even when t h e i r guides
w i l l not go on f o r f e a r of spectres.
The inner
cavern they reach i s a c t u a l l y s i b y l ' a cave, and they
carry out the Sibylline leaves on which are w r i t i n g 8
i n various l w u a g e s from ancient Chaldee t o modern
Italian.
Mary and her companion (obviously Shelley)
devote t h e i r time to "deciphering these sacred remainsw u n t i l he i s taken away from her, and she
continues her labours alone.
?his n a r r a t i v e is
an obvious a l l e g ~ r ydescribing a f e a r l e e s descent
i n t o the unkno~nof her own mind.
Towards the end
of her introduction, she suggests t h a t we can a l l
d b c o v e r the Sibylline Leaves inside us b u t t h a t
the order an a r t i s t places on the chaos and obsourity
of the fragments "would be fashioned by h i s own
peculiar mind and talent."
The Last Man i s her
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f the Sibylline Leaves.
I will
b i e f l y discuss t h i s novel i n my l a s t chapter,
but i t is enough t o point out here t h a t ' h e Last
can be seen a s an exploration of Mary's own
psychological s t a t e a f t e r S h e l l e y ' s death.
Her
writings i n her journal f o r the period of 1822-1826
reveal her despair and acute loneliness a t being
'Ithe l a s t man".
For instance, when she heard of
~ y r o n ' sdeath i n 1824, she wrote, "The l u s t man!
Yes, I may well dewxibe that s o l i t a r y oeing's
f e e l i n g s , f e e l i n g myself a s the l a s t r e l i c of a
beloved race, my companions e x t i n c t before me . l t 9
'
A t the same time as Val ton 6 Journey i n Franken-
s t e i n t o & i ~ c o v e ra aorthaaet passage a d the north
p o l e p u r a l l e l s Prankenstein's modern-Promethean ambition^
f o r technological knowledge, i t i s a l l e g o r i o a l f o r
a voyage into the unknown 09 the mind.
Although
Mary does not develop t h i s suggestion i n much more
than a few phraees, Walton does speak of h i s a s p i r a t i o n s
t o understand the flmarvellous", t o f i n d a "country
of e t e r n a l light", i n t h i s way:
"I may there diocover
the wondrous power which a t t r a c t s the needle...
[I
may ascertain7 the s e c r e t of the m~gnet.'~ This
vaguely suggetits t h a t Nalton i s utte~nyting to solve
philosophical mysteries Ghich i n the thought of
Rom~ntici6mwere frequently expressed i n terms of
whet Colerid,e
mysteries.
c a l l e d polar logic) a s well a s n a t u r a l
I n Prometheus Unbound, Act I V , Shelley
provided h i s prophecy of the "Polar Paradisea' i n
which an's I n t e l l e c t (Prometheus) comes t o embrace
Love ( ~ s i a ) comes
,
t o understand the wmagnat-)ike
10
a f f i n i t y of a l l things f o r each other.
According t o Shelley's 1818 Preface t o the
novel, Mary wrote Frankensteiq " p a r t l y a s an expedient
for exercising any untried resources of mind."
In
i t , she arrived unconsciouely a t her moat success-
f u l p a t t e r n f o r describing her c r e a t i v e process:
the a r t i s t a s alchemist.
Victor Frankenstein c o l l e c t s
h i s raw materials from the charnel houses and graveyards, b u t Mary i s a t the same time c a r e f u l to have
him r e t e l l his e a r l y l i f e , t o have him collect again
the p s y c h o l o ~ i c ~ml n t e r i a l s ahich created the Xonster.
Mary Shelley employs V i c t o r ' s i n t e r e s t i n alchemy
not only t o i n d i c a t e the o r i g i n s of h i s vaulting
ambition t o penetrate the s e c r e t e of nature, b u t a l s o
the o r i g i n s of h i s o b s e w i o n s w i t h secrecy and
A s an adolescent, he l o v e s the wild
solitude.
f a n c i e s of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus because
"they appeared t o me t r e a s u r e s known t o few beeides
myselfw. (F: 11, 43)
m e n when he suppoeedly r e a l i z e s
t h a t the a l c h e m i s t s t systems had been exploded a s
i n e p t and contrndic t o r y , he e till s t u d i e s modern
s c i e n t i f i c methods i n order t o pursue the alchemical
aim of f i n d i n g the e l i x i r of l i f e , and, moreover,
he continues t h e i r h a b i t o f always working alone
i s o l a t e d f r o m the communi Lye Not even Professor
Waldeman, h i s mentor, suspe-ts that i t i s V i c t o r ' s
absorption
with h L s one p u r s u i t which l e a d s him
i n c i d e n t a l l a t o the l'improve~nento f some chemical
instrument
which procured mc yred t e steem and
admiration a t the university" (F: I V , 54).
*mb#
d
'
finafIy
V i c t o r ' s iao$~tiuetifY("f?om
others suggests w h y h l a
-"
, t e c h m l o g i c a l discovery i s monstrous and out of
..T
a t the same _ _time,
Ma.ryfe
ineistence
.--" - on- -h i s
_
__
.".- -*--
I
aloneness i s a l s o a p t i f we qre-- reading -- the
novel
-a s ~ r a n k e n e t e i ns' self-explop3 t i o n and ~
~
-
b
--
r e j e c t i o n of h i s ~ 3 c h a l ~ t E discowmy.
nl
Carl
J u g , who has shed much l i g h t on the motivation
behind the o b s c u r i t i e s o f the symbolism of the
alchemists, has w r i t t e n t h a t :
There i s no doubt t h a t the goal of the philosophical
alohernist was higher self-development, of
the production of what Parncelsus c a l l s the
lthI~rno
rnnior"; o r wh:it I would c a l l individuat i o n , This goal c o n f r Y n t s the alchemist
a t the s t a r t with the l o n e l i n e s s which a l l
of them f e a r e d , when one has "only" oneself f o r
company, The alchemist, on p r i n c i p l e , worked
alone, He formed no school, This rigorous
s o l i t u d e , toge ther with h i s pro-occupa t ion
with the endlesg o b s c u r i t i e s of the work,
was s u f f i c e n t to a c t i v u t e the unconscious and,
through the power of the imagination, b r i n g i n t o
b e i n g things a h a t apparently were n ~ tt h e r e b e f o r e a l l
On the psychological l e v e l , then, Victor ' 6 s o l i tsry
e x p l o r a t i o n c r e a t e s the Creature who ie an unleashed
aspect of h i s own psyche,
In Chapter f i v e , on t h a t dreary n i g h t in
November when the Creature i s "born," Mary h a s Franken-
stein d e s c r i b e h i s a c t i o n s t h i s way:
"1 c o l l e c t e d
t h e instruments of l i f e ~rOUndme t h a t 1 might
infu~ea spark of being i n t o the l i f e l e s s thing t h a t
lay a t my feet."
What a r e "the instruments of l i f e w ?
~
Technically, the instrument i s probalbly the "oparktl
of e l e c t r i c i t y .
But psychologically, i t is the dream.
As soon a s the c r e a t u r e convulses and begins t o move,
V i c t o r becomes h o r r i f i e d and disappointed.
H e says,
the beauty of the dream v m i a h e d , and b r e a t h l e s s
h o r r o r and d i s g u s t f i l l e d my heart."
during the c r e a t i n g ?
the Creature
Was he dreaming
Vie a r e n o t t o l d anything of
right after h i s first stirrings,
but Victor'b dream f a d e s and he rushes out of
t h e room:
...
Eut
a t l e n g t h l a s s i t u d e succeeded t o
the tumult I had before endured; and I threw
myself on the bed i n my c l o t h e s , endeavouring
t o seek a few moments of forgetfulness...
And again, he submits to dreaming and ha8 h i s nightaare of Elizabeth changing i n t o h i s dead mother's
corpse and being crawled on by worms.
I n i t , the
dream-logic confusion i s mixing the t e c h n i c a l with
the psychological i n g r e d i e n t s of Frankenatein's
discovery.
pages 129-32
( s e e my d i s c u s s i o n of t h i s dream on
of t h i s t h e s i s . )
A t any
r a t e when
he wakes up, the essence of h i s dream-process has
been d i a t i $ l e d out: the c r e a t u r e i s f u l l y "bornn
and w p e r a t e d from t h e dreamer: he i s s t r u g g l i n g
t o communicate and form some bond w i t h h i s c r e a t o r ;
b u t t h e c r e a t o r i n s t a n t a n e o u s l y r e f u s e s t o recognize
t h e monster's source and r e jec t s any r e l a t i o n s h i p
w i t h him:
I beheld the wretch--the miserable monster
whom I had c r e a t e d . He h e l d up t h e c u r t a i n
of the bed; and h i s e y e s , i f e y e s they may
be c a l l e d , were f i x e d on me, His jaws opened,
and he muttered some i n a r t i c u l s t e sounds,
while a g r i n wrinkled h i s cheeks, He might ,
have spoken, b u t I d i d n o t h e a r ; one hand
was s t r e t c h e d o u t seemingly t o d e t a i n me, b u t
I escaped and rushed down stairs, (F: V , 61)
~ a r y ' sown method of c r e a t i n g "so v e r y hideous
a n i d e a w , a s she explained i t t o h e r r e a d e r s i n h e r
1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n , remarkably p a r a l l o l e V i c t o r ' s .
She n o t only c o l l e c t s some of t h e "bones" and raw
m a t e r i a l s of h e r c r e a t i o n : a . b r i e f h i s t o r y of h e r
own e a r l y l i f e , h e r motivation f o r day-dreaming and
w r i t i n g , h e r own and h e r husband's ambitions f o r
h e r fame, the i n c i d e n t s of t h a t summer a t D i o d a t i
i n 1816 which immediately t r i g g e r e d h e r a c t i v i t y
i n c l u d i n g the t e l l i n g o f ghost
and the
r e s u l t i n $ c o n t e s t w i t h Byron, Shelley and P o l i d o r i
t o s e e who could w r i t e the best h o r r o r story-but
a l s o she d e s c r i b e s the p r o c e s s by which she won
the c o n t e s t .
A t f i r s t , she f r e t t e d consciously
trying Itto think of a s t o r y w :
I f e l t t h a t blank incapacity of invention
which i s the g r e a t e s t misery of authorship,
when d u l l Nothing r e p l i e s t o our anxioue
invocations. Have you t h o w h t of a s t o r y ?
I was asked each morning, and each morning
I was forced t o r e p l y with a mortifying
negative.
When she f i n a l l y comes t o the embryonic idea
of h e r Frankenstein, i t i s during a waking dream.
She emphasizes h e r p a s s i v i t y ; she i s not working on
t r y i n g t o g e t a s t o r y ; the essence of h e r dreamt r u t h comes "unbiddenw to h e r imagination.
And
the next day, she wrote a t r a n s c r i p t of h e r dream
which became the h e a r t of the novel: chapter five.
!the 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n recorded h e r dream t h i s way:
I 8aW the pale student of unhallowed a r t s
kneeling beside the thing he had put together.
I saw the hideous phantasm of a man e t r e t c h e d
o u t , and then, on the working of some powerful
engine; show signs of l i f e , and s t i r with an
uneasy, h a l f v i t a l motion. @rightful must i t
be; f o r supremely f r i g h t f u l would be the
e f f e c t of any human endeavour to mock the
stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the
world. H i s success would t e r r i f y the a r t i e t ;
he would rush away from h i s odious handiwork,
horror-stricken.
Her dream as alembic c r e a t e d the e s s e n t i a l symbolic
image which h a s remained a l i v e i n our F r a n k e n s t e i n
mythology,
Many c r i t i c s hsve i n t e r p r e t e d the c e n t r a l
image of t h e novel biographic:illy becsuse of t h e
s t r o n g s u g g e s t i o n that t h e inhunnni t y of Frankens t e i n c o n s i s t s i n h i s spurning of both h i s woman
and h i 8 "child".
1 am going t o d i s c u s s some of
t h e f i n d i n g s of t h i s a p p r o ~ c hbecause t h e d i s c o v e r y
of t h e p e r s o n a l o r i g i n s of h e r c r e a t i o n r e v e a l s
Mary S h e l l e y ' s ambivalent f e e l i n g s towards h e r
mother, W o l l s t o n e c r a f t , h e r f a t h e r , Godwin, and
her husbsnd, S h e l l e y , n o t only a s h e r c l o s e s t f ~ m i l y
r e l a t i o n s but a l s o , as I s h a l l do on t o emphasize
i n t h e l a t t e r p a r t of t h i s c h a p t e r , a s saokesmen f o r
t h e s p i r i t of modern-Prome theanism.
After a l l ,
t h e word "Frankenstein" a r t i c u l a t e s some f e e l i n g
f o r u s even i f we know nothing o f Mary S h e l l e y and
h e r family,
Mary was a b l e t o transform h e r own complex
f e a r s which o r i g i n a t e d i n h e r personal r e l a t i o n s h i p s
i n t o a symbol which a r t i c u l d t e d h e r contemporaries'
fears.
She t o l d u s h e t s e l f what the e s s e n t i a l meaning
of the r e l a t i o n s h i p between the c r e a t o r and t h e
c r e a t u r e was i n h e r 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n : s u c c e s s i n
d i s c o v e r y whether of t h e p h y s i c a l s e c r e t s of n a t u r e
o r of t h e mind (and i n t h e i r deepest meaning, they
a r e the some t r u t h f o r Mary) would t e r r i f y t h e artist.
Moreover, she recognized t h a t she had found a t a l e
which would speak to the "mysterious f e a r s of our
nature":
"What t e r r i f i e d me w i l l t e r r i f y others."
She i s t h e a r t i s t i c a l c h e m i s t , because, as Sung
s a i d of P a r a c e l s u s , she somehow understands t h e
u n i t y which embraces t h e m u l t i p l i c i t y and t h u s
t h a t if she found h e r s e l f she would know o t h e r s :
"You mow y o u r s e l v e s one
h i s i s the s p e c i f i c d e f i n i t i o n
of t h i s experience of t h e coniunctio: t h e
s e l f which i n c l u d e s me i n c l u d e s mimy o t h e r s
a l s o , f o r the unconscious t h a t i s "conceived
i n our mind1' does n o t belong t o me and i s
n o t p e c u l i ~ rt o me, b u t i s everywhere. I t
is t h e quinLessence of the i n d i v i d u a l and
a t t h e same time the c o l l e c t i v e . 13
Let u s first t r y t o re-discover some o f t h e persons1 o r i g i n s of h e r f e a r s .
G a i l Xmetzt& s p e c u l a t i o n
i s one ex~.;:pleof 3n i n t e r p r e t a t i o n which s t r e s s e s
t h e i n f l u e n c e ~ a r 'y6 r e l a t i o n s h i p with Godwin, h e r
f a t h e r , had on the novel:
Mary understood very well the psychology of
t h e o u t c a s t . The monster i s r e 3 e c t e d by t h e
man mho c r e a t e d him; Mary hcid been r e j e c t e d
by h e r f s t h e r . H e i s hated and f e a r e d wheree v e r he goes; s o c i e t y had turned i t s back
on her. He cunnot h e l p d e s w o y i n g , and h a t e s
himcelf; she never g o t over h e r g u i l t a t
having been the occasion of h e r mother's
death. The monster ie a p r o j e c t i o n of Mary's
self-image: l i k e h e r , he h a s a va.st t h i r s t
f o r knowledge and a p a t h e t i c need t o be loved
and accepted. I n l a t e r l i f e , when a mild
a t t a c k of smallpox had l e f t sone minor & c a r s
on h e r f a c e , she c a l l e d h e r c e l f '*the monster".
14
Although Kmetz does n o t s u b s t a n t i a t e her c l a i m s ,
i f we p i e c e t o g e t h e r s c a t t e r e d r e f e r e n c e s t o Mary's
upbringing, we do f i n d some evidence t h a t Godwin
t r i e d t o shape h e r a s h i s " c r e a t u r e v .
I n September,
1747 ( ~ a r yw n s born on A u g u s t 3 0 , 1797.),
Godwin
asked h i s f r i e n d N'illiam Kicholson, who Was familiar
w i t h L a v a t e r ' s t h e o r i e s , t o g i v e h i s opinion concern-
ing ~ a r y physiognomy.
' ~
I n one of t h e few r e f e r e n c e s
t o Mary i n h i s l e t t e r s t o the second Mro Godwin,
he shows how he u s e s the common enough c h i l d - r e a r i n g
tactic of suggesting how d i s a p p o i n t e d he w i l l be
if she does n o t t u r n out well:
" T e l l Mary t h a t ,
i n s p i t e of unfavourrble appearances, I s t i l l have
f a i t h t h a t she w i l l become a wise and, what i s more,
a good and a happy woman....
"I6
I n 184, Oodrin
wrote t o an unknown correepondent, who asked what
t h e o r i e s of e d u c a t i o n t h e daughters of WolleLonecraft
had been r a i s e d on, t h a t :
...
n e i t h e r of them a r e brought up with a n
e x c l u s i v e a t t e n t i o n t o t h e syotem and i d e a s
of t h e i r mother....
The p r e s e n t Mrs Godwin
h a s g r e a t s t r e n g t h and a c t i v i t y of mind, b u t
i s n o t e x c l u s i v e l y a f o l l o w e r of t h e n o t i o n s
of t h e i r mother; and indeed, having formed
a family e s t a b l i s h m e n t without having a p r e v i o u s
p r o v i s i o n f o r t h e auppor t of n f a m i l y , n e i t h e r
Mrs Qodwin o r I have l e i s u r e enough f o r reducing
novel t h e o r i e s of e d u c a t i o n t o prrctice....
H e h a s no planned p r o & r m , but he goeo on t o r e l a t e
what he v a l u e s i n the c h a r a c t e r and mind of h i s own
daughter; ~ a n n 'y6 g r e a t e s t f a u l t i s h e r "indolence",
but:
Mary, my d a u g h t e r , i s the r e v e r s e of h e r i n
many p a r t i c u l a r s . She is s i n g u l a r l y b o l d ,
sopewhat imperious, and a c t i v e of mind. Her
d e s i r e of knowledge i s g r e a t , and h e r p e r s e r verance i n e v e r y t h i n g she under t a k e s almost
i n v i n c i b l e . My own daughter i s , I b e l i e v e ,
very p r e t t y . I7
Here Mary i s somewhat improved s i n c e she was s e n t
away t o Scotland in 1812, and Qodwin found i t necessary
t o t e l l h e r temporary guardian t h a t , "I am anxious
t h a t she should be brought up...
l i k e a philosopher,
even l i k e a cynic...
[bug I wish she would be e x c i t e d
t o industry." 18 I t i s from a l e t t e r w r i t t e n t o
Mary after she ren away from home t h a t we get the
c l e s r e s t i d e a of ~ o d w i ns' e x p e c t a t i o n s ,
On Septem-
b e r 9, 1819 , when she was suffering over t h e d e a t h s
of b o t h h e r c h i l d r e n w i t h i n a few n e e a of each
o t h e r , he wrote t o disapprove of h e r depreesion.
the i n t e r e s t s of
It
In
t r u e philosophyw, he communicates
the t r u t h t o her:
The human s p e c i e s may be d i v i d e d i n t o two
c l a s s e s : those who l e a n on o t h e r s f o r s u p p o r t ,
and those who a r e q u a l i f i e d t o support. Of
t h e s e l a s t , some have one, some f i v e , and some
ten talents.
Some can support a husband, a
c h i l d , a small b u t r e s p e c t a b l e c i r c l e of
f r i e n d s and dependents, and some can s u m o r t
a world, c o n t r i b u t i n g by t h e i r e n e r ~ i e st~
advance t h e i r whole s p e c i e s one o r more d e g r e e s
i n t h e s c a l e of p e r f e c t i b i l i t y . The former
c l a s s s i t with t h e i r arrr.s crossed a prey t o
apathy and languor, of no use t o any e a r t h l y
creature.,.
You were fornxd by n a t u r e tg
b e l o w t o the b e s t of these c l a s s e s , but
you seem t o be s h r i n k i n g away, and volunt a r i l y e n r o l l i n g y o u r ~ e l famong t h e worct.
Above a l l t h i n g s , I e n t r e a t you, do n o t
p u t the miserable d e l u s i o n on y o u r s e l f , t o
think t h e r e i s some thing f i n e , and b e a u t i f u l ,
and d e l i c u t e , i n g i v i n g y o u r s e l f up, and agreeiw t o be nothing.
(my i t s l i c 6 ) l g
..
No doubt Mary f e l t the p r e s s u r e of h e r f a t h e r ' s
ltphilosoghyll, und she enueavoured t o r e p l y t o some
e x t e n t i n Mathilda, a n o v e l e t t e which was w r i t t e n
i n the l a t e summer and autumn of 1819,
In her
i n t r o d u c Lion t o the n o v e l e t t e , E l i z a b e t h N i t c h i e
demonstrates the b i o g r a p h i c a l p a r a l l e l s : Mathilda
i s Mary, ~ a t h i l d a ' sf a t h e r i s Godwin, a o o d v i l l e is
a n i d e a l i z e d Shelley. 20
Mathilda'a mother d i e s
a few days a f t e r g i v i n g b i r t h t o Mothilda, and
t h e f a t h e r f l e e s i n g r i e f leaving Mzthilda i n t h e
c a r e of an a u n t i n Scotland.
Mathilda grows up as
a s o l i t a r y being haunting the woods of h e r a u n t ' s
e s t a t e and forming f a n t a s i e s s r ~ u n dthe hope t h a t h e r
f a t h e r would r e t u r n and ssy, "My daughter, I love
thee."
On h e r s i x t e e n t h b i r t h d a y , he c l a i m h e r
back, and she spends the next few months i n e c s t a s y ,
u n t i l he begins t o r e j e c t h e r f o r reasons unknown.
F i n a l l y , she f o r c e s him t o admit, a l b e i t u n w i t t i n g l y ,
t h a t h i s c r u e l moodiness i s an attempt t o cover h i s
*'unnatural passion" f o r her.
h e r s e l f i n h e r rooa to
Khile Msthilda s h u t s
w r e s t l e with h e r c o n f l i c t i n g
f e e l i n g s , h e r f a t h e r i n d e s p a i r l e s p s i n t o the sea.
A f t e r going t o t h e f u n e r a l and then s t a g i n g a s u i c i d e
-
t o mislead h e r o t h e r r e l a t i v e s , Mathilda r e t i r e 6
t o the country to indulge u n i n t e r r u p t e d , i n h e r s e l f obssessed g r i e f .
This i s the same flluxurious s e l f -
p i t y t t which Walling notes i s expressed i n h e r
L a s t Man of 1826.21
Even before YIoodville e n t e r s
h e r l i f e , M a ~ h i l d ais c o n s t a n t l y a r d u i n g h e r r i g h t
t o be s e l f i s h , weak and lazy.
Hex8e i s one example:
Mine was an i d l e , u s e l e s s l i f e ; i t was so; b u t
say not t o the l i l y l a i d p r o s t r a t e by the
storm a r i s e , and bloom a s before. My h e a r t
was bleeding from i t & d e a t h ' s wound; I could
l i v e no otherwise, 22
Who i s t h i s addressed t o ?
Kho is she c o n t i n u a l l y
beseeching n o t t o "repor3chW h e r "with i n u t i l i t y " i f
not Godwin?
L a t e r , i n the n o v e l e t t e , Mary-Mathilda
i s c l e a r l y aware t h a t Shelley-Vioodville a l s o h a s
l i t t l e p a t i e n c e with the indulging of d e s p a i r ,
Let
u s examine one more pssage from ~ o d w i n ' s 1819 l e t t e r
t o Mary:
Remember, too t h a t thou# a t f i r s t your n e a r e s t
connections may p i t y you i n this s t s t e , y e t
t h a t when they see you f i x e d i n s e l f i s h n e s s
and ill-humour, and r e g a r d l e s s of t h e happiness
of everyone e l s e , Lhey w i l l f i n a l l y cease
t o l o v e ~ o u ,and ecdrcely l e a r n t o endure
YOU. 23
T h i s is u p o t e n t t h r e a t whether the " n e a r e s t connectionsv
b e S h e l l e y o r Czodviin himself e s p e c i a l l y from a
f a t h e r of whom Mary wrote, i n an unpublished l e t t e r
of 1822: " U n t i l I met Shelley I F o u l 4 j u s t l y Bay
t h a t he wae my God--and
I remember many c h i l d i s h
i n s t a n c e s of the e x c e s s of attachment I bore him. t t 24
Godwin ~howedhow s w i f t l y he could digclaim h i s c h i l d
when she disobeyed h i s wishes d hen he r e f u s e d t o
communicate with h e r a f t e r h e r elopement w i t h S h e l l e y ,
J u s t the same, though t h e r e i s v a l i d i t y i n s u g g e s t i n g
t h a t ~ a r y ' sf e a r s of r e j e c t i o n o r i g i n a t e i n h e r
r e l a t i o n s h i p with h e r f a t h e r , the i d e n t i f i c a t i o n of
F r a n k e n s t e i n w i t h Godwin can be c a r r i e d t o o f a r :
Sam Rosenberg c l a i m s drankiens t e i n is:
...
a n a l l e g o r y of the d i s a s t r o u s consequences
of l o v e denied t o c h i l d r e n by p a r e n t s concerned
only w i t h the f u l f i l l m e n t of t h e i r own d e s i r e s , .
[becaube, a 6 he uryue? e a r l y i n l i f e Mary
knew--as every c h i l d n such a predicament
knows i n f a l l i b l y - - t h a t she could n o t successf u l l y meet the Olympian challenge from h e r
f a t h e r and r i g h t f u l l y harboured a deep unconsc i o u s grievance a g a i n s t the Inan who had c r e a t e d
h e r and denied h e r love o r f u r g i v e n e s s when
f a i l e d t o r e p l a c e h i s p r e s t i g i o u ~l o s t wife. 25
~ o s e n b e r 'gs i n t e r p r e t a t i o n emphasize& Mary's psychol o g i c a l need t o g e t r i d of the mother she could n o t
l i v e up to:
h e r daughter Mary had w r i t t e n a n e n t i r e book
i n which she revived h e r , monsterized h e r ,
b i l l e d h e r , and with t h a t a c t of exorcism hoped
t h a t the s p i r i t of Mary W o l l s t o n e c r ~ i f twould
remain undistrubed f orevec afterward. 26
.
Still t h e r e i s s o g e t h i n s e e r i e about the wtiy she
names t h e monsier'a f i r s t v i c t i m , ~ i c t o r ' a youngest
b r o t h e r , t 8 W i l l i ~ r n " m Not only is " W i l l i : 3 m W ~ o d w i n ' s
first
rime,
but i t i s a l s o the name o f h e r own youngest
half-brother,
the only " n o r ~ n t l l c~ h~i l d of the Godwin
household i n t h o t b o t h Godwin and Mary Jane C l a i r n o n t
were h i s p a r e n t s ; m r e o v e r , Wil1iam''is h e r own
i n f a n t son's nane ( the one who was t o d i e a t t h r e e
y e a r o of age i n l t l l j ) , h e r ofin " s f i e e t babe1' ' ' l i t t l e
W i l l m o ~ s ewho
~ ~ was s l e e p i n g i n the n e x t room, 27
W11-
l i ~ mi s a l s o the name which Vvollstonecruft and Godwin
ueed t o r e f e r t o t h e i r unborn c h i l d i n t h e i r l o v e
n o t e a t o each o t h e r i n 1797 ~ e f o r et h e b i r t h o f Mary, 28
I t i s the c h i l d Msry choulci have been, one who would
p l e s s e i t s father and would not k i l l o f f i t s mother,
Vsry aptly, Mary l e ~ v e sthe Creature nameless, and,
9s anyone w r i t i n g about Mary K o l l s t o n e c r a f t Oodwin
S h e l l e y f i n d s , she has no name whish i s e n t i r e l y
h e r own, i n c l u d i n g Mrs S h e l l e y , e s p e c i a l l y i n t h e
surnaer of 1015 hen she began the w r i t i n g of Dankens t e i n , and was t h e p o e t ' s m i s t r e s s .
Even i n the most cursory look at S h e l l e y ' s
biography, we cannot b u t be s t r u c k by how much of
v i c t o r ' s e a r l y l i f e and a t t i t u d e s a r e taken from
Shelley's.
C h r i s t o p h e r Small has made a thorough
d e m m e t r a t i o n of some of the p a r u l l e l s of which
the f o l l o w i n g a r e a few:
~ r m k e n a t s i n ' s f i r ~ name
t
is "Victor" which was S h e l l e y ' s pseudony!n i n much
of his juvenilia; P r o f e s s o r %aldmsnnls c h a r a c t e r
and i n f l u e n c e i s l i k e l y derived from S h e l l e y ' s
t e a c h e r D r . Lind who b e f r i e n d e d Shelley a t Eton;
v i c t o r ' s e q r l y a s p i r u t i o n s t o penetrate the s e c r e t s
of t h e universe read l i k e S h e l l e y ' s own; S h e l l e y , a s
h i s f r i e n d Hog# r e l a t e d in his L i f e of a h e l l e y ,
was o b s e ~ s e dwith experiments using e l e c t r i c a l
phenomena and a t the same tirne, he d e l v e d i n t o t h e
study of the so-called b l i c ~a r i s e 2 '
Both ltAlsatorll
of 1815 and "Hymn t o I n i e l l e c t u ~ lbeauty1', written
around the same time a6 A1rankenstein was begun i n
the surnluer of 1816, p r e a e n l the ~arnt?
of a seeAer
of ~nowleddehuunting g r a v e y d r d s o r ruins a t night
trying
t o discover the s p l r i t of l i f e a6 FrunKen-
s t e i n pursues n a t u r e t o h e r h i d i n g yldces.
I n h e r "Notes on ' ~ u e e n~ n b ' " , Mary S h e l l e y
b r i e f l y r e c o u n t s the development of h e r husband's
e a r l y l i f e and a t t i t u d e s i,hich l e d him t o b e l i e v e
i n " t h e p e r f e c t i b i l i t y of human nature'' und how "all
could r e a c h t h e h i g h e s t grade of moral improvement,
d i d n o t t h e customs and p r e j u d i c e s of s o c i e t y
f o s t e r e v i l p a s s i o n s and encuse e v i l a c t i o n s , ,130
L i k e F r a n ~ e n s t e i n , he had a burning p a s s i o n t o be
t h e b e n e f a c t o r of h i s fellow-creatures.
Yet, u n l i k e
Frankenstein, Shelley c h d r a c t e r i s t i c s l l y confronts
s o c i a l oppression p u b l i c l y as he d i d i n the events
l e a d i n g t o h i s e x ; ~ u l s i o nfrom Oxford f o r the ~ r i t i n g
of t h e pamphlet "The Necessity of Atheism" w i t h
J e f f e r s o n Hogg,
Holsea
I n S h e l l e y , the P u r s u i t , Richard
shows t h a t S h e l l e y " d e l i b e r a t e l y s e t o u t
t o court..
. noteriety.
Mary p r e s e n t s h i s behsviour
more sympathetically:
rat
171
...
he was t r e a t e d a s a r e p r o b a t e ,
c a s t f o r t h as a c r i n i n a l .
The cause was t h a t
he was s i n c e r e ; t h a t he b e l i -ved t h e o p i n i o n s
which he e n t e r t a i n e d t o be t r u e . And he loved
t r u t h w i t h a m a r t y r ' s love; he was ready t o
s a c r i f i c e s t a t i o n 2nd f o r t u n e , and h i s d e a r e s t
a f f e c t i o n s , a t i t s shrine.32
I n e i t h e r c a s e , the d e s c r i p t i o n does n o t sound l i k e
the h e s i t a n t , self-doubting, even d e c e i t f u l Frankens t e i n who more resemble6 ~ a r y ' ss e l f - 2 r o j e c t i o n i n
Mathilda-Mntnilda
who "with my dove'b look and
f o x ' s h e a r t v ' p r e t e n d s a s u i c i d e and r e t i r e s into
cumple t e inuc t i v i t y r a t h e r than f a c e what h a s happened and the s u f f e r i n g of l i v i n g w i t h o t h e r people, 33
S t i l l t h e r e i s something t o the s u g g e s t i o n
t h a t Mar;? savi h e r s e l f a s S h e l l e y ' s l l c r e u t u r e v , I n
h e r 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n , she emphasizes t h a t i t was
S h e l l e y who
n
was f o r e v e r i n c i t i n g me t o o b t a i n a
l i t e r a r y r e p u t a t i o n " , " t o prove myself worthy of
my parentage..."
and even who "urged me t o develop
the i d e a cof ~ r a n & - e ~ a t e isgt g r e a t e r leng the.
when s h e had thought only of a s h o r t t a l e .
."
She
Knew very w e l l t h d t p a r t of the reason t h a t S h e l l e y
had f a l l e n i n love k i t h n e r as she " s c r i b b l e d " a t
h e r mother's grave i n S t . Pancras cemetery was h i s
image of h e r a s the y h y s i c s l and s p i r i t u a l o f f s p r i n g
of Wollstonecraf t and Godain, and she d e n o n s t r a t e d
h e r w i l l i n g n e s s t o l i v e t h e i r shared b e l i e f s , i n
f r e e love f o r example, o y h e r dramatic escape a t
1 6 y e a r s of age from h e r f a t h e r ' s house t o run away
with h e r s o u l mate.
We need only read h i s '*Dedication1'
t o h e r of h i s poem "Revolt of Islam", of 1817, i n
which he expanded on those e x p e c t a t i o n s of h i s l e s s
f u l l y expressed i n the e a r l i e r poem ("To Mary Wolls t o n e c r a f t Godwin'') which he dedicated t o h e r i n 1814:
How b e a u t i f u l and calm and f r e e thou wert
I n thy young uisdom, when the mortal c h a i n
O f Custom thou d i d s t b u r s t and rend i n twain
And w s l ~a s f r e e as l i g h t t h e c l o u d s among,-Which many an envious s l a v e then b r e a t h e d in v a i n
F r a h i s dim dundeon, and my s p i r i t sprung
To n e e t thee from the woe6 which had b e g i r t i t long!34
When Mary eloped w i t h Shelley in the suinmer of
1814, she probably hud the same imade of h e r s e l f a8
he did.
However, h e r ambivalence towards h i s hopes
and b e l i e f s a s shown i n Frankenstein and h e r o t h e r
writings, i n d i c a t e an i n t e r n a l c o n f l i c t w i t h h e r
own i n c r e a s i n g tendency towards c m s e r v a t i s m .
The
n e x t c h a p t e r w i l l d e a l with h e r conventional-mindedness
which became q u i t e apparent i n h e r w r i t i n g a f t e r
S h e l l e y ' s death.
Ths t M:~rywas extremely dependent
on S h e l l e y i n 1816 becomes c l e a r i f we imagine h e r
s i t u a t i o n i f he had d e s e r t e d her.
Not only was s h e ,
r e d e c t e d by r e s p e c t a b l e s o c i e t y a s a f a l l e n woman,
but she had a l s o been shunned by h e r own family.
She had no means of s u p p r t and was the mother of
an i l l e g i t i m a t e c h i l d .
No wonder she married Shelley
w i t h i n the month of h i s f i r s t w i f e ' s s u i c i d e on
December 29, 1b16.
C+od#in who had r e f u s e d h i 8
approval of her f r e e "marriage" t o S h e l l e y b u t had
continued t o o b t a i n money from h i s son-in-law,
a t t e n d e d t h e l e g a l wedding.
then
I n h i s l e t t e r of February
..
-La
- --
21,
1817, he w r i t e s with "pleasurew t o h i s b r o t h e r
t h a t h i s daughter, "a g i r l without a pen&
of f o r -
tunett had met with a very "good matchi', and merely
' 16.
describes Shelley without naming him a s %
eldest
son of S i r Timothy Shelley, of F i e l d Place, i n t h e
county of Sussex, Baronet.
lt3'
Mary, hoaever, was
a l s o keenly aware t h a t h e r marriage t o Shelley marked
CS
a r i s e i n her social status.
This i s demonstrated
--
by Burton P o l l i n i n h i s a n a l y s i s of ~ a r y ' ss h o r t
s t o r y of 1837, "The Parvenue". 36
( m e heroine i s
,.
.
t o r n by a divided l o y a l t y between h e r bankrupt
f a t h e r and h e r upper-class husband who r a i s e d h e r
frdm poverty, and i s y e t i s o l a t e d and a l i e n a t e d
.
'
from both,) 37
.
Z
Again, thou&'+ we must be c a r e f u l about i d e n t i f y ing R a n - e n s t e i n a s Shelley.
Richard H o p e s p o i n t s
out t h a t i n S h e l l e y ' s "review" of Frankenstein,
thougn Shelley c e r t a i n l y knew how V i c t o r ' s biography resembled h i s own,
/
-7
".".. i m p l i c i t l y ,
Shelley
accepted h i s own i d e n t i f i c a t i o n a s ~ r a n n e n s t e i n !s
monsterw because he saw himself a6 f o r c e d i n t o
*involuntary i s o l a t i o n and malevolence by s o c i a l
-
ostracism.
"reviewn :
Holmes quotes t h i s passage from the
.
I t i s thus t h a t too o f t e n i n s o c i e t y those
who a r e b e s t q u x l i f i e d t o be i t s b e n e f a c t o r s
and i t s ornaments a r e branded by some a c c i d e n t
w i t h s c o r n , and changed by n e g l e c t and s o l i t u d e
of h e a r t i n t o a scourge and a curse.38
O f c o u r t e , S h e l l e y ' s judgement here a l s o e x p l a i n s
why V i c t o r ' s i n i t i a l c r e a t i v i t y , developed i n s o l i t u d e , becomes increasin&y e g o t i s t i c a l and d e s t r u c -
tive.
Besides, Clervul i s probably a p o r t r a i t of
Shelley a s Mary l i k e d t o thinic of him."
As Rieger
p o i n t s o u t , Clerval is c e r t a i n l y an e a r l y v e r s i o n
of Adrian, the "Shelleytt Mary i d e a l i z e s i n The
Last Man. 40
It
i b
necessctry t o p o i n t o u t t h a t though Mary
rimy have feared Shelley's c r u e l t y , he too m i ~ h t
have f e l t h i a s e l f t o b e
victim,
Vie have another
j n c i d e n t from t h a t summer of 1616 a t D i o d a t i t o
i l l u s t r a t e this p o s s i b i l i t y ,
A t midnight on
June
18, Byron was reading f r o n ~h i s manuscript copy of
~ o l c r i d g e ' sV h r i s t a b e l t t t o P o l i d o r i (~yron'o d o c t o r ) ,
S h e l l e y , Mary, and C l a i r e Clairmont.
When Byron
reached the l i n e & i n which G e r ~ l d i n e(who a p p e a r s
t o be b e a u t i f u l and good up t o t h a t p o i n t i n the
r a v e a l e h e r hideous bosom, S h e l l e y run screeching from t h e room,
Polidori reports i n h i s diary that:
H e was lookcin& a t U r s S., and suddenly thought
of a woman he had heard of who had eyeE i n s t e a d
of n i p p l e s , ~ h i c htuKin, h o l d of h i s mind,
h o r r i f i e d him.41
I do n o t know the s p e c i f i c causet of ~helley's
h o r r o r , b u t 80me thing in t h e i r r e l a i i o n s h i p Beems
t o have made hiffi i d e n t i f y Mary with Geraldine and
himself w i t h t h e p r e y , C h r i s t a b e l .
E l l e n Moer finds the c e n t r t J b i o g r a p h i c a l
impetus f o r the c r e a t i o n of prunkenste& i n M a r y ' ~
own maternal urges t o c r e a t e , and s p e c i f i c a l l y , i n
one i n c i d e n t of her l i f e , when she wanted t o r e s t o r e
l i f e t o h e r own dead i n f a n t i n the year before she
wrote F r a u e n s t e i n .
On March 13, 1815, Mxry recorded
i n her journal the t r a u n a of l o s i n g her unnamed
i n f a n t g i r l : ttDxseurn t h a t my l i t t l e baby came t o l i f e
again,
...
t h a t i t had only been c o l d , and that we rub-
bed i t before the f i r e , and i t l i v e d .
f i n d no baby.
day.
I think
Not i n good s p i r i t s . "
Awake and
the l i t t l e thing a l l
Moer p u t s i n paren-
theses after tnis p a w a g e V i c t o r '
5
words of hope
that he might "beotou animation upon l i f e l e s s matter. ,142
While n o t i n g t h a t Mary cherished h e r own b a b i e s ,
Moer claime, t h a t Mar3 was mortllizirig about maternal
r e j e c t i o n of offspring:
Most of the n o v e l , roughly two of i t s t h r e e
volumes, can be s a i d t o d e a l with the r e t r i b u t i o n v i s i t e d upon monater and c r e a t o r
f o r d e f i c i e n t i n f a n t care. Fremkenstein
seems t o be d i t i~n e t l y a vionian's mythmaking
on t h e s u b j e c t of b i r t h p r e c i s e l y because
i t s emphasis i s n o t upon what precedes b i r t h ,
n o t upon birth i t s e l f , b u t upon what f o l l o w s
b i r t h : t h e trz-umu of the a f t e r b i r t h . 43
Indeed t h e only female " v i l l a i n 1 ' i n Frhnkenstein
i~
ust tine's mother who "through a s t r a n g e perver-
s i t y ' ' CaMOt endure h e r owc daughter and suffers
t o death torr- between abhorrence and repentance
(P: VI, 6 8 - 9 ) .
Also, as Morton h p l a n p o i n t s o u t ,
the C r e a t u r e i s v e r y much presented as the newborn:
c r y i n g helplessce6s, the confusion of his s e n s e s ,
l f H i ~
his v u l n e r a b i l i t y t o p a i n , h i s i n a b i l i t y t o com-
ffiunicate, portrEy the human c h i l d a t b i r t h a s
a c c u r a t e l y a s w e could wish.
Though C h r i s t o p h e r
Smsl.1 is p a r t l y richla vvkr: he .cl:iin
cannot h e l ~think:
:.. tt'?:::. t h e
rerrclcr
"If only Frankenstein had loved
t h i s c r e a t u r e , 1f45 t h e r e a d e r i s n o t allowed any
euch easy s o l u t i o n .
Nre a r e forced t o f s c e the f a c t
t h a t V i c t o r was given e x c e l l e n t p a r e n t a l c a r e , and
y e t he d i d n o t t u r n o u t v i r t u o u s o r happy.
George Levine warns:
It
Thus
the underlying s t r u c t u r e
.-
I
-
o f the book~.implies an irrational and dangeroue
world, khich cgnnot be comprehended by rational
theory and 'which is strained nith'enormous energies
*
latent band r e p r e s s e d O 4 F n npa-tch togethei- again
"
-
the biolgraphical materials
and speculate indefinte*
ly, and' yet never understand the source of the vital
-
--
-
--
-
--
energies which animated' Frankenstein' and his creature
into a life of their okn.
-
Some critics Mve attempted to deal with the
.
"latent and repPessedn energies of Frankenstein
'
by seeing the &eature
as ~ict-or'sdouble.
For
instance, Masao Miyoshi re-interprets Frankenstein
k
according to the central motif sf his book,
D
-
-=
--
s i ~ l d e d self.
- ttunbalanced"
Clerval. 47
--
-
- -
-
-
-
-
/ , ' *
- -
--
--
--
-
--
Frankenstein becomes
away from npo-eticalw
The Creature's murders are:
...
-
-
a pro3ection of Frankenstein's own suppressed
urge to destroy what he loves--a qegative
impulse lurking i n the depths of rationalism.
Indeed, it is only the absence of a carefully conceived plaas. that distinquishes Frankenstein's creation of the monster from Dr.
~ekyll's of Mr Hyde, who is 'turned loose 'solely as a means by which the creator ~ealizes
- - h & s - ~ e d a n ~ um T
l h~- m
~error of calling the Monster 'Frankensteint
=I---riustifiaRt.ion--'rrcientist]
deviant self. 48
-
.
7
--
\
\
Surely, i t isi a d i s t o r t i o n of the novel t o see the
Creature a s a "Bbr Hydett o r a s a "deviant s e l f t f .
f
Miyoshi dimself notes how the complex Creature
i'
mirrors "his c r e a t o r ' s cycle of g u i l t and remorse. tt 49
.
,
- A& I demonstrated i n chapter one o f ' t h i s t h e s i s , .
-
--- -- -
the Creature r e f l e c t s the same inner c o n f l i c t be,
-
tween benevolent and malici,ous urges a s Victor (and
herself).
Ic
A180 ignoring the e thically-mo t i v a t-
ed s i d e of the Creature, Morton Kaplan has w r i t t e n
a Freudian i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the novel i n which
It
the monster becom,eFno more than agent of h i s
ranken en stein's]
wishes--the
embodiment of h i s o m
monstrous passions, sexual and murderousw.50
Kaplan
puts pasticufar- emphasis OIY the monster f aSirrg- f n
love with Caroline, Victor's mother (i.e,,
------
her p o r t r a i t
i n l i t t l e william's l o c k e t ) , and says that the monst e r ' s crimes a c t out v i c t o r ' s oedipal passions; "the
psychopath %troy8
mo therw,51
the women who remind him of h i s
Kiely's comhents on the dream which
Frankenstein has r i g h t a f t e r the Creature i s animated
complement Kaplan' s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n : "In t h i s extra-
o r d i n a r y FEiTi€X6iY ofan-OedipalTightmare,
Mary
--
--- --
o f her hero's mind.
Kaplan, explains t h a t Wenken- .
lt5'
e t e i n continually f l e e s from the crqature not only
because, a s he admits, " I am the murdererw b u t because
he i s protecting "the g u i l t y agent of h i s own crimi-
nali ty
.
53
Qnlyd e n all of his loved ones-ace
dead does .he t r y t o end the ~ o n s t e r ' scareer.
Since
the Monster p r a c t i c a l l y told Victor he intended
to murder Elizabeth i n h i s threat: "I will
be with
you on y o u r wedding night,n
No answer i s tenable other than that he wishes
her death, that,the monster i s h i s doubleagent, and that h i s ignorance, secretiveness,
and f o l l y a r e a l l feigned. Even the manner
i n which we a r e t o l d , ' the whole t r u t h rushed
i n t o my mind, ' suggests how -the thought i s
k e p t from cortsciou&ness-onL-j~-~tilit-~s
too l a t e . 54
a
--
I
4'
Although there i s some t r u t h i n Kaplan's
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the novel, he puts too much emphasis
on the criminality of the Creature.
By allowing
the unknown within Victor, the Creature, t o present
h i s complexity i n h i s own words, Mary Shelley suggests,
i n Levine's words, " t h a t the monstrous i n us can be
--
-
-- -
-
-
- --
b o t h b e a u t i f u l and generous, "55
accepts Victor's
Kaplan, i n a sense,
s e l f - a e l u m veriTIict on the c ; r e a t i i d l - -
essence : "vampire'k s e l f .
Actually Victor usually
Lp
refuses t o ' b e aware t h a t the monster has any r e l a t i o n ship to h i s own d e s i r e s , and only once does he ac-
knowledge t h i s d i r e c t l y .
J u s t a f t e r Victor l e a r n s
+
of ~ i l l i a m ' smurder and i s retbrning home, he sees
/
/-
- - - . =
--e-
.
--
--
-
the Creature among the rocks and decides ,that the
Creature is the murderer.
the mere presence of
'
the ideatwas an i r r e s i s t i b l e p r o o f of the fact."
Mary then has him go on t o t h i s one b r i e f s e l f realization:
I considered the being whom I had c a s t among
mankind, and endowed with the w i l l and power
t o e f f e c t purposes of horror, such a s the deed
which he had now done, nearly i n the l i g h t
of my own vampire, my own s p i r i t l e t loose
all--f r ~ o r n ~ t h e p g r a v e , a n d t o r _ c e d pdestroy
to
t h a t was dear t o me. (F: V I I , 80)
p
p
p
p
-
Chrac t e r i s t i c a l l y though, Victor h a t e s the i r r a t i o n a l i t y
i n himself which he cannot control so much t h a t he
p r o j e c t s i t i n t o something other than himself, and
thus he c a l l s the creature of h i s mind: "fiendt1,
Hdevilti, or a t b e s t , 'lwretchm.56
In her poem,
i
f o r Dr. bankenateinl', Margaret Atwood gives her
j
'
F r ~ e n 6 t e Z ~ n ~ ~ s ~ ~ Z e n ~ y o ~ f p ~ ~
own d-mk s i d e :
R e f l e c t i o n , you have s t o l e n
evepything you needed
...
.
You have transmuted
y o u r s e l f t o me,,
4
Mow ybu accuse me of muraer
G4
can't you s e e
I am incdpable?
Blood of my b r a i n ,
i t i s you who have k i l l e d t h e s e people. 57
Sjr
the end of the poefn, t h e p i e c e
V i c t o r hRd
s l i c e d l o o s e from himself and c a l l e d Creation has
assumed its own defiant e x i s t e n c e :
come when you call."
"I w i l l n o t
I n ~ a r y ' snovel, too, by the
c l o s i n g chase scenes, V i c t o r has managed t o d i s s o c i a t e himseLf s o completely-f rom-his c r e a t u ~ e ~ s
2
a c t i o n s t h a t he imagines himself an avenging angel
i n t h e s e r v i c e of h i s s a c r e d loved ones:
I pursued my p a t h towards t h e d e s t r u c t i o n of
t h e daemon more a8 a t a s k enJoined by heaven,
a s the mechaniual impulse of some power of
which I was~unconscious, than a s t h e a r d e n t
(F: XXIV, 205)
d e s i r e of my own soul...
9
v i c t o r ' s c a p a c i t y f o r n a r c i s t i c s e l f - d e l u s i o n seems
+
,-
of Mary S h e l l e y ' s s h o r t t a l e s because i n them she
h o t only s e t up the double motif, b u t o f s o i n t i m a t e d
9.
how she %bPught the p r o t a g o n i s t
+'
should respond
t o h i s douDle s i n c e b o t h s t o r i e s end happily.
P
+
(1t i s important t o n o t e t h a t b o t
h i e s were
written a t 1&t ten y e a r s ,'ef t e r Frankelistein when
--
A
"
-
/-'
Mary was prone t o " 8 o ~ v e W
problems i n h e r w r i t i n g s
r a t h e r than d e s c r i b e them h o n e s t l y i n a l l t h e i r
P
In "Ferdinand0 Ebolitt , p u b l i s h e d
irrationality. )
i n 1829, the noble, prosperous, and handsome Count
7
Ferdinand Eboli i s b e t r o t h e d t o f a i r Adalinda.
J u s t b e f o r e he l e a v e s on a m 5 l i t a r y campaign, he
t a k e s ~ b r m a ll e a v e of h i s f i a n c g e and h i s f u t u r e
c l i ~ bonto h e r balcony and she recognize8 her l o v e r .
Alone t o g e t h e r f o r t h e f i r s t t i n e , they experience
*
'
!
b
"Love's own h o u r n , and Adalinda g i v e s h i m a lock
of h e r h a i r .
4
This n o c t u r n a l * v i s i t o r t u r n s o u t t o
be Ludovico, a "naturali' e l d e r son of ~ e r d i n a n d o ' s
f a t h e r , who i n revenge ' f o r the n e g l e c t shown him,
kidnaps Ferdinand and usurps h i s p o s i t i o n 8s count
b u t e s c a p e s becoming a lowly robber a s h i s b r o t h e r
-
had been.
-
- -
Ludovico i s , however, n o t d n t i r e l y v i c i o u s
\
-
-
8
and t r i e s t o win Adalinda w i t h t h e t r u t h about
how u n f a i r l y he had been t r e a t e d and of how she
a c t u a l l y f e l l i n l o v e w i t h him, the f a l s e E b o l i ,
t h a t n i g h t when he came t o h e r room.
She, of c o u r s e ,
p r e f e r s t h e p r o p e r E b o l i , who 6oon g e t s h i s p o s i t i o n
back.
Ferdinand then p r e d i z t a b l y f o r g i v e s t h e r e -
p e n t e n t Ludovico, who then goes t o d i e honourably
i n battle.
Mary fails t o develop t h e p o t e n t i a l
of the double i n t h i s s t o r y ; Ludovico, though, does
b r i e f l y show the c h a r a c t e r i s t i c moral ambiguity
of t h e Creature when he h e s i t a t e s i n h i s d i a b o l i c a l
of h i s a c t i o n s , 58
p l a n t o argue t h e
published i n The Keepsake
"The
---
f o r 1831,
s t o r y and c l e a r l y
resembles Frankenstein.
We have t h e same k i n d l y
f a t h e r - f i g u r e ( ~ o r e l l i ) ,t h e same p a t i e n t fianc/e ( ~ u l i e t ) ,
and t h e same a r r o g a n t young man (Guido).
Guido
d e s e r t s h i s s o c i a l o b l i g a t i o n s f o r a l i f e of debauchery
and crirce.
[hisb(
F i n a l l y , t h e f i e n d s o "possessed...
s o u l w t h a t he l o s e s all h i s p o s s e s s i o n s and i s a l i e n a t e d
from T o r e l l i and J u l i e t .
-
They a r e ready t o f o r g i v e
-
--
- -
-
-
-
--
him and await only h i s humble remorse, but Cluido i n
-\
d e f i a n c e d e c i d e s &o d i e r a t h e r than t o submit,
At
t h i s p o i n t , he meets a very deformed dwarf who
p r a i s e s -Beelzebub, and h a s powers t o e 4 3 a storm
-?
and t o produce a chest of unlimited wealth.
The
dwarf bargainB t o exchange h i s c h e s t f o r t h e use of
Guido's handsonie body f o r t h r e e days, and Guido
-
a
agrees.
P r e d i c t a b l y , t h e dwarf does n o t r e t u r n
with h i s body, and h i d o , i n h i s d i s t o r t e d body,
limgs t o ~ t o r e l l i ' sv i l l a t o f i n d t h a t J u l i e t is
about t o marry t h e dwarf i n t h e form of h i s own
reformed, p e n i t e n t s e l f .
Guido then d e c i d e s t o end
" t h e machinations of t h e f i e n d " by k i l l i n g h i s body
even if i t means h i s own death.
scene, t h e dwarf -$n-his-body
During t h e f i g h t
4
a c t s i n contradictor
-
ways seemingly a s k i n g tapbe stab-d
- -
-- --
a d ye t - r e a P i s t h g .
A t t h e end, when Cfuido awakens a g a i n i n h i s own body
w i t h J u l i e t c a r i n g f o r him, he i s confused.
the dwarf a f i e n d ?
Was
O r w a s he h i s own guardian-
--
angel who e x t e r n a l i z e d ~ u i d o ' smonstrous p r i d e i n
the dwarf body?
The ending is both Bappy and m o r a l i s t i c
as Quid0 g r a t e f u l l y a c c e p t s t h e self-knowledge
that
t h e dwarf-doppelganger he f o u g h t was somehow h i s own
-
- -- -
--
- --
The c r e a t u r e i s not s t r i c t l y ~ r a n k e n e t e i n ' s double
'
-- -
though he i s an unleashed aspect of Frankensthin's
I
psyche.
prankenstein's r e a l i z a t i o n t h a t the Creature
i s h i s "vampire" s e l f i s a self-protective l i e which
the novel a s a whole refutes.
What Frankenstein
expresses i n h i s i r r a t i o n a l r e j e c t i o n of h i s Creature
1
i s h i s own (and Mary ' a ) ,psychological i n a b i l i t y
<
I
t o face the success of modern-Prometheanism which
i s man"s s t w g y l e t o become ndivine", t o make e a r t h
heaven.
W
e have no reason t o doubt the claim Shelley
makes i n h i s 1818 Preface t o Frankenstein t h a t the
author of the novel thought the c r e a t i o n of l i f e
m a "not- of impossible occurrence1'; as Mary h e r s e l f
s a y s i n her 1831 introduction, s h e h e a r d p ~ > r oanin
stielley6'
t a l k of Erasmus Darwin provoking a piece
of vermicelli t o l i f e i n a j a r and t h i s was one of
the conversations which led her to invent her s t o r y : . Perhaps a corpse would be reanimated; galvanism
had given token of such things: perhaps the
component p a r t s of a creature might be manufact u r e d , brought together, and endued with v i t a l
warmth
,
.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
I n the novel, Mary maintains the same vagueness on
3
-
-
- -
8ub j e c t of which methods Victor used t o manufac-
- --
-
-
-- -
ture life.
H e c o l l e c t s bones and s e l e c t s lVfeaturesw
-
f o r h i s c r e a t i o n (F: IV, 58; V, 60); thus, a t times,
we a r e led t o think of the Creature a s the patchedtogether monster propagated by the f i l m versions
of the Frankenstein t a l e ,
However, we then a r e
l e f t wondering, with the c r i t i c
Silva Norman, how
the e i g h t f o o t monster could have been made with
human
bones,6'
-J
or with Martin Tropp, what ran material@
j-z
\could
P
have been used on the Oricney i s l a n d which had
nly f i v e inhabitants. 62 A t the ,same time, Franken*
s t e i n ' s use o f the phrase " l i f e l e s s clayn h i n t s
t n a t he i s using the t r a d i t i o n a l creating m a t e r i a l s
of both God (according t o Genesis and ~ i l t o n63
)
Prometheus (according t o . @id).
and
64- R6bkrt-Phil%uKp
suggests t h a t the reason she i s not s p e c i f i c i n
her description of U s methodology i s because of
h e r ignorance of science. 65
Whpn,t was much more
important, however, t o Mary Shelley than her acceptance
t h a t modern science might achieve such a f e a t was
her evaluation of the e f f e c t of such an achievement:
"His success would t e r r i f y the a r t i s t ,11 w r i t e s Mary
- --
--
--
i n her 1831 Introduction.
-
--
--
-
Moreover, she assumed t h a t
--
-
- --
--
- - --
-
she had h i t on t h a t rhiEh wodd be universally h o r r i f y i n g ,
t h a t which spoke to the ttmysterious f e a r s o f our
natureVf;?What t e r r i f i e d me w i l l t e r r i f y others."
A s S h e l l e y wrote i n the, 1818 Preface, what the
novel wants t o emphasize i s n t h e t r u t h of elemeni a ~ y
p r i n c i p l e s of
h w s naturew. Victor i s un-
able t o face the f a c t t b a t he can make l i f e , t h a t
he is
'6 ivinew; and
hence, paradoxically, t h a t
the o r i g i n s of man a r e not divine, we a r e not created
i n the image of God, we o r i g i n s t e i n f i l t h and
Although when Victor begins t o frequent' the
graveyards i n ordel/ t o study the processes of
l i f e and death, he a s s e r t s t h a t h i s mind 18 super- -
-- -
-
-
--
-- -
-
- - --- -
s t i t i o n - f r e e , y e t he i s i n the h a b i t o f r e f e r r i n g
t o h i s female loved ones a s Itguardian angelw (F:
c
I , 3 8 ) , and "being heaven-sent"
(3'4 I , 38); Elisa-
,
beth a l s o has a " s a i n t l y soul" and v c e l e 6 t i a l eyesw
(F: 1 1 - 2 )
He wants to defeat decay and death
which sicken him,
Accordingly, h i s i n a b i l i t y t o
accept the o r i g i n s of l i f e a s he ndiscovered" them
Frankenstein i s no d e t a c h 9 observer a s he watchds
L,
i n t h e graveyard a s t h e llwogders of t h e eye and
b r a i n v t of man decay t o f i l t h and becoae n t h e food
of t h e wormt1 (F: IV, 55).
lustrates
A s Joseph Needham il-
i n h i s H i s t o r y of
-.-.
.
@nbryolony+ t h e " r a t i o -
n a l i s t i c " s c i e n t i s t s of t h e p e r i o d 1700-1850 were
s t i l l t r y i n g t o f i n d v e r i f i c a t i o n i f n o t f o r God's
good o r d e r , a t l e a s t f o r t h e s o c i a l l y - d e r i v e d conc e p t s of r e l a t i o n s h i p s aee0Min.g t o uhich t h e i r
community then l i v e d :
+
theological naturalists...
h a i l e d with enQusia,sn t h e d i s c o v e r y of monogamy i n t o r t o i s e s ,
o r mother-love i n g o a t s , b u t they had nothing
t o s a y concerning the h a b i t s of t h e hookworm p a r a s i t e o r the appearance of embryonic
monsters i n man. Not u n t i l the beginning
of the n i n e t e e n t L c e n t u r y _ d i d Lt-become clear-t h a t Nature cannot be d i v i d e d i n t o t h e E d i f y i n g ,
which may with p l e a s u r e be published, and
the Unedifying, which must be k e p t i n obscurity.66
----
4
Before he starts h i s Rork, V i c t o r e x p e c t s t o be
revered a s a " f a t h e r " by his c r e a t u r e - c h i l d r e n ;
6
"A new s p e c i e s would b l e s s m e a s i t s c r e a t o r and
f
source.
Many happy and e x c e l l e n t n a t u r e s would
*
owe t h e i r being t o me.
No f a t h e r could claim t h e
-
But i n h i s ambitions, he i e more a d d i c t e d t o
b
the " s u p e r s t i t i o n s f ' of modern-Prome theanism with i t s
quest f o r d i v i n i t y , f o r dominance over n a t u r e , and
f o r t h e exemption of man who f e e d s on o t h e r s p e c i e s
from becoming food h i l r-s e l i - f o r o t h e r l i f e forms.
--
--
'
-
-
-- - -
s-
V i c t o r d e s c r i b e 6 h i s v i o l a t i o n of n a t u r e d u r i n g h i s
work on h i s c r e a t u r e by n o t i c i n g t h a t n o t only d i d
Be i g s w e h i s d u t i e s
h i s f a m i l y , b u t he
s e n s i t i v e t o t h e beauty of n a t u r e .
We8
in-
In p a r t i c u l a r ,
*
he missed the s p r i n g , n a t u r e ' s own season of r e s syrection.
Yet "'the. f a l l of a l e a f s t a r t l e d me,
and I shunned my f e l l o w - c r e a t u r e s a s i f I had been
g u i l t y of a crime."
(F: I V , 59).
After hie project
--
i s o v e r , ha% ref t h o m e , a n d V i 6 t o r i s n o
lower
gtrivCng----
t o c o n t r o l nature, he welcomes " d i v i n e s p r i n g " which
r e s t o r e s h i s joy of life (F: V, 65).
-
,
In f a c t , Franken-
s t e i n ' s crime i~ h i • ˜ r e v e r s a l of n a t u r a l process;
he f e d the l i v i n g t o t h e dead; he " t o r t u r e d the l i v i n g
animal t o animate the l i f e l e s s c l a y t f (F: N , 58).
V i c t o r ' s nightmare which occurs immediately a f t e r
t h e c r e a t u r e i s *bornm f o r b o d e s n a t u r e ' s nemesie:
-
--
-
p
p
~ l i z a b e t h" i n t h e bloom of healtht' becomes the corpse
of h i s mother, and t h e worms, one of the b e i n g s
In t h e long c h ~ i nof l i f e - r e n e w a l which Frankenstein
e a t t h e l i v i n g . 67
t r i e d to ehort-circuit,
' pattern of
This
nightmare re-occurs i n Vic t o p ' s d e l i r i u m *
.
whkn he i s in, j a i l f o r the murder of C l e r v a l : "blooming"
c h i l d ~ e n , brfZe5 and y o u t h f u l lovers become wprey
-
- -
-
A
-
-
-
-
7
--
-
-
-
,
---
for ~ o r r t s (F:
" ~ XXI, 178); he even e x p e r i e n c e s h i s own s u f f e r i n g a s a "never-dying worm a p i v e i n my
i n the h o r r o r of modern-
Fraake&tein is ca-t
Promethean s c i e n c e wnich a8 i t began t o mgke man
d i v i n e - a l s o forced him t o see h i s H f i l t h y n p h y s i c a l
origins,
A?tly,
the monster as l i v i n g , unedifying
I n her
f i l t h k i l l s off the ' * c e l e s t i a l wbeings.
-
-
-
--
--
k
-
-
--
-
-
-
-
"Speeches for Dr. Frankenstein",
- -
--
---
*
--
Margaret Atwood
has captured t h e aense oC V i c t o r ' s s e l f -disgust,
and the n e c e s s i t y o f ' his r e j e c t i n g the c r e a t u r e :
- I was i n s a n e w i t h
skill:
I made you p e r f e c t .
I &ould have chosen instead
to-curl you- s m a l l as a seed,
~
A
trusted beginnings. Now I wince
before t h i s plateful of r e s u l t s :
5
,
c o r e and rind, the flgts&-between
~ ~ . ne> po
nc~
i
.,
.
>
I s t a n d i n the presence
of
the destroyed god:
u-
.
a r u b b l e of tendons,
*,y
knuckles and raw -sinews.
-
Knowing t h a t t h e worli i s mine
how can I l o v e you? 68
--
-
-
.-
-
P a r a d o x i c a l l y , though Mary a l l o w s V i c t o r . % become
~
"divine" and, thereby, ,undermine the, claim, t h a t
--
God the C ~ e a t oexists,
~
she does a o t l e t him cope
p s y c h o l o g i c a l l y w i t h h i s auccess.
Thus V i c t o r would
r a t h e r see h i s c r e a t i v e a c t i v i t y a s s i n f u l tQan
f a c e t h a t man originat,ed i n t h e image of t h e worm.
I n the t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y a t t e m p t a t e&vating o u r
P
wlowly'' o r i g i n s and i n s t i n c t s , w e heve c r e a t e d a
d e s c r i b e d by Michael Polanyi, biology i s t h e s t u d y
of the h i s t o r y of our triumphant r e b e l i o n a g a i n s t
f
meaningless chaos; i n the i o d e r n - ~ o 6 e t h e a . n a t f i tuds,
a l l l i f e gropee towards the sscendanc$ which l e d t o
man and the development
of consciousness.
'
places>
b a c i l l u s and m e worm a r e
s t r u g g l e : t h e b a c i l l u s "se
-
-
-- --
A'
p a
.
centre
Even the
this heroic
4
ae&f-
i n t e r e s t a g a i n s t t h e world-ride d r i f t of k a n i n g l s s &
f
a t a l a t e r a t a g e towards
happeningsm; and t h e wor
:
consciousness, formed d g a n g l i o n a t the t i p o l- its
-
C
body with which t o meet and understand the e x t e r i o r
world f o r the r e s t of the organism.
"Within t h i s
a c t i v e centre the animal's personhood i s inten&&iied
So w4
e find
i n relationship t o a subservient body,
prefigured the c r a n i a l dominance which gave r i s e
'i
A
- -
t o the c h r a c t e r i s t i c position of mcnd i n the body
of man. ' 6 9
Freud's motto f o r The I n t e r w e t a t i o n
o f Dreams s i g n a l s a p a r a l l e l attempt i n psychology
-. .
t o elevate the sexual and i n s t i n c t u a l p h y s i c a l i t y
"Flec t e r e si nequeo superos ,'~ c h e r o n t a
o f man:
-
L
,
*
Though Victor loves t o p r a i s e Elizabeth'a e t h e r e a l
v i r t u e & , h i s behav$our shoks h i s revulsion to being
f o r s i x years a t 1qgo1-stadt and then take off f o r
--land,
he a-lso has trouble going ,home.
frcm 'Ingqletadt t o Geneva, he
has
I
When coming
.to remain two
h a y ~a t Lausahne because- '!fear overcame me; I dared
+
6
' -
n o t advance, dreading a thousand n a m e l e ~ se v i l s
/
J
1
t h a t made m e t r e a b l e , although
I was unable t o
I
define them."
(F: VII,, 77).
Eveq af t a r he i s a t 4
- -
home, and-he has i d e n t i f i e d the Creature, and a t
the Bame t i m e kimself;ae
the murderer-of W i l l i a m ,
0
-
he still says, tt801itudewas my only consolation-deep, dark, death-like solituden (F: IX, 9 3 ) , and
, continually escapeE ~lizabeth's company to be alone
eitih r'sailing on the lake or climbing in the mountains.
P
In fact, in a perverse way, the reason he produces
*
-
--
-
-
--
life in his solitary cell is to avoid a woman's
,womb as a @workshop of filthy creationw (F: IV, 58).
Many of the film progeny of Frankenatein emphasize
the gigantic, antiseptic machinery used by Frankenstein
to produce his monster,70
but Mary herself makes
victor's horror the result of facing the fleshy
physicality of his creating.
Even though, in her
+
1631 Introduction to the novel, 6heAmentions a
'
"powerful enginew, t h e rejee t-ion scene- is thed-ire&---consequence o his revulsion for the body of his crea-
\
ture.
is perhaps referring to
Victor mocked the "atupendous
mechanismn of the Creator. 71
In conclusion then, Frankenstein and the Creature
initially came to life when h r y .allowed her unconscious
horror of the success of modern-Prome theanism to
-
-
-
-
-
-
takepits own gnu, and thus from her dream-alembic
brewed out the essentia3 symbolwe-=-used
shs
for the
-
past 150 years to express our irrational fear of,
and fascination with the manipulation by man of
both external and internal nature.
If we missed
the basic conservatism of the origknal dream, which
/ the rejection scene of Chapter five, we can
becgme
1
$
finti it again at the very end of the novel when,
as Harold Bloom points out, -"the daemon is a.llo#ed
a final imade of reversed Prometheanism. 11 72
Chapter Four
MARY S ~ L L E YS'
"
INTERIOR FATALI'IYt'
With my h a b i t of going backstage always, I
d i d n o t f i n d t h a t the drama l a y i n t r a g i c
i n c i d e n t s of a person'e l i f e , b u t i n the
hidden motivations which l a y behind t h e s e
I wae
i n c i d e n t s , the " i n t e r i o r f a t a l i t y " .
more c u r i o u s a s t o what prevented a pereons l i t y from developing, a t a l e n t from blossomi n g , a l i f e from expanding, a love from being
f u l f i l l e d . My personal obsession with a
human being'a p o t e n t i a l drove me t o seek
the handicaps, blocks, i n t e r f e r e n c e s , i m pediments. 1
Anais Nin
I must work hard amidst the v e x a t i o n s t h a t 1
p e r c e i v e a r e p r e p a r i n g f o r me--to preeerve
my peace and t r a n q u i l l i t y of mind. I must
preeerve some, i f I am t o l i v e ; f o r , eince
I b e a r a t the bottom of my h e a r t a fathoml e e s w e l l of b i t t e r w a t e r s , the workings
of which my philosophy i s ever a t work t o
r e p r e e e , what w i l l be my f a t e i f t h e p e t t y
v e x a t i o n s of l i f e a r e added t o t h i s sense of
e t e r n a l and i n f i n i t e misery? 2
Mary Shelley
October 5, 1822
A f t e r f a i l i n g t o w r i t e a e u l o g i s t i c biography
of S h e l l e y a f t e r h i s d e a t h , i n 1826
published The Last Man
Mary Shelley
i n which she c r e a t e d Adrian,
h e r f i c t i o n a l , i d e a l i z e d Shelley.
Yet a s William
w a l l i n g ' s c h a p t e r on the novel demonstrates,
L a s t Man i s a "Burkeanl' novel which r e a c t s a g a i n s t
~ h e l l e y ' sv i s i o n of the f u t u r e : " I n the o v e r - a l l
i m p l i c a t i o n s of The Last Man, we f i n d Mary making
an unconscious palinode t o many of the p o l i t i c a l
and s o c i a l i d e a s she shared with Shelley while h e
was a t i l l - a l i v e .
'I3
Moreover, F a l l i n g seee the novel
a s "a s t a r t l i n g l y p e s s i m i s t i c a l l e g o r y which ident i f i e s e q u a l i t ~ r i a n i s mw i t h a plague v i r u l e n t enough
t o destroy c i v i l i z a t i o n i t s e l f " :
Adrian ( t h e l a s t
descendent of the r o y a l house which abdicated i n
o r d e r t o e s t a b l i s h democracy) is an i n e f f e c t u a l
dreamer u n t i l he re-assumes h i s t r a d i t i o n a l noble
l e a l e r s h i p and f i g h t s with h i s people a g a i n s t the
llplaguett; Ryland, the commoner who becomes the
P r o t e c t o r i n the new r e p u b l i c and who i s the a c t i v e
champiop of many of s h e l l e y ' s own p o l i t i c a l i d e a s ,
shows h i s vulgar o r i g i n s during the plague by becoming a despicable coward; the a r i s t o c r a t i c Lord
Raymond, who advocates the r e turn t o p a t e r n a l i s t i c
l e a d e r s h i p , i s t r e a t e d favourably throughout the
n o v e l e 4 As Hugh J. Luke, Jr. p o i n t s out i n h i s
i n t r o d u c t i o n t o The Last Man, Mary c r e a t e s "another
fragmentary p o r t r a i t " of Shelley i n t h e charac t e r
o l d Merrival, the astronomer, and t h e r e i s an underl y i n g b i t t e r n e s s a g a i n s t a man " f a r too long-sighted
i n h i e view of humanity t o heed the c a s u a l i t i e s
of the day, and [who] l i v e d i n the midst of contagion unconscious of i t s exbe tence.
Because
Merrival i a preoccupied with c a l c u l a t i n g the n a t u r e
of t h e e a r t h l y heaven which w i l l e x i s t s i x thousand
y e a r s hence, he does n o t see the s t a r v a t i o n and
s u f f e r i n g of h i s own wife, c h i l d r e n and contempoMoreover, Mary uses the plague a s a warning
raries,
t o man
"
the h e a v e n - ~ l i r n b e r " ~ ;Nature teaches us
t h e proper humility:
Yet a f e e l i n g of awe, a b r e a t h l e s s sentiment
of wonder, a p a i n f u l sense of the d e g r a d a t i o n
of humanity , Wa6 introduced i n t o every h e a r t .
Nature, our mother, and our f r i e n d , had turned
on u s a brow of menace. She shewed us p l a i n l y ,
t h a t , though she permitted us t o a s s i g n her
law6 and subdue h e r apparent powers, y e t , i f
she p u t f o r t h but a f i n g e r , we must quake.
She could tatte our globe, f r i n g e d w i t h mount a i n s , g i r d e d by the atmos>here, c o n t a i n i n g
t h e c o n d i t i o n of our being, and a l l t h a t
man's mind could i n v e n t o r h i s f o r c e achieve;
she could take the b a l l i n h e r hand, and c a s t
i t i n t o space, where l i f e would be drunk up,
and man and a l l h i s e f f o r t s f o r e v e r a n n i h i lated. 7
Here i n The Lost Man, she consciously preaches h e r
c o n s e r v a t i v e h o r r o r of modern-Fromethem accomplishments, b u t i n P r a m e n s t e i n , the dream-symbol which
i s the a r t i s t i c pro2necy of the novel, i.e.,
her
c r e a t i o n of t h a t h o r r i f y i n g image of the " p a l e
s t u d e n t of the unhallowed a r t s " and h i s c r e a t i o n ,
the "hideous yhantssm of a mantt, o r i g i n a t e s i n h e r
i n a r t i c u l a t e s t a t e of mind.
She does n o t tamper
e i t h e r w i t h h e r c r e a t i o n s , F r o n ~ e n s t e i nand h i s
monster, who s t i l l continue t o l i v e independent
mythological l i v e s , nor with the c o n t r a d i c t o r i n e s s of the novel which i s a l i v e because l i b e r a l
hopes and c o n s e r v a t i v e f e a r s of humm advancement a r e
a l l o ~ e dt o be i n t e r t w i n e d , a s they a r e i n r e a l i t y ,
i n v i t a l r e l a t i o n s h i p to each other.
--.
A s- - she
becomes
i n c r e a s i n g l y aware of h e r own ternpermental conserv a t i s m , which I i d e n t i f y a s h e r " i n t e r i o r f a t a l i t y N ,
and no l o n g e r h a s t o r e c o n c i l e h e r s e l f d a i l y t o
-
l i v i n g w i t h Shelley and h i s world view, h e r w r i t i n g
begins t o l o s e i t s l i f e .
I n h e r l a t e r f i c t i o n , Mary Shelley r e p e a t e d l y
r e t u r n s t o the saaie therne of showing the e v i l of
F a u s t i a n s e l f - p r i d e , but h e r c r e a t i v e a r t e r i e s
hardened i n t o complacent formulas.
i l l u s t r a t e s a typical pattern.
One example
I n B l k n e r , pub-
l i s h e d i n 1837, Mary i s c l e a r l y w r i t i n g h e r v e r s i o n
of h e r f a t h e r ' s s t o r y of Falkland i n Caleb Williams,
and i n i t , she llsolves" the t e n s i o n s between the
v i c t i m and the s e l f - w i l l e d t y r a n i c a l man.
Falkner's
crime i n h i s p a s t i s the causing of the d e a t h of a
woman he loved and kidnapped when she r e f u s e d t o
l e a v e h e r husband f o r h i ~ c . I n d e s p a i r , Palkner
i s about t o commit s u i c i d e i n a cexetery when he
i s stopped by a l i t t l e g i r l , E l i z r b e t h , who i s
day-dreaming on her mother's grave.
The orphan n o t
only h e l p s Falkner back to a v i r t u o u s l i f e , b u t
a l s o , when she i s grown u p , r e c o n c i l e s the g u i l t y
Falkner with the son of h i s victifi.
Through h e r
love and p a t i e n t s u f f e r i n g , E l i z a b e t h redeems both
men and, i n the end, a l l t h r e e s e t t l e down togeth e r i n t r a n q u i l domestic harmony.
8
As 1 demonstrated
. - -- in. c h a ~ t e rone, the t r u t h
of Frankenstein i s i n i t s Gothic roughness and in-
maniac 2nd b e n e f a c t o r of our s y e c i e s ; the C r e a t u r e
---
i s... both the c r i m i n a l and the v i c t i m of s o c i e t y ;
s-o c i e t y i s both t y r a n n i c a l and loving,
Mary, i n 1818,
seems a b l e t o dwell i n "uncer t a i n t i e ~ ,Mysteries, doubts,
without any i r r i t a b l e reaching 3f t e r f a c t & r e a s o n w ,
,'
i n what h a t s c a l l s "Negative C a p a b i l i t y t t
and t h u s ,
she a r t i c u l a t e e the ambivalence of h e r contemporaries.
She i s a p r o p h e t e s s , or v,hat L~iBarrec a l l s "a c u l -
t u r a l h e r o w , because somehow through h e r own subj e c t i v e p r o c e s s e s of t r y i n g t o r e c o n c i l e the r a d i c a l
" s p i r i t of h e r age" with h e r own and h e r contempor a r i e s ' d i s i l l u s i o n with the r a d i c a l hopes of the
1790's, she c r e a t e d the l i v i n g mythology which we
use t o a r t i c u l a t e our conservntive h o r r o r t h a t modernPromethean s c i e n c e w i l l b e s u c c e s s f u l :
Every movement f i n a a i t s c u l t u r e h e r o o r
prophet. H i s g e n i u s i s coffirnunication. I n
one sense he i 6 an exponent of the s t a n d a r d
2sychic s t s t e of h i s contemporfiries, syokesman f o r h i s generation. I n another s e n s e ,
h i s c r e a t i v e f a n t a s y , i f a p t , becomes by
psychic contagion and i r r a t i o n a l p h a t i c communication a ' f o l i e a deuxt r a i s e d t o a goom e t r i c power equal t o the number o f h i s
communicants, 10
Frankentein
does n o t condemn modern-Fromethean
''id
e f f o r t s , b u t r a t h e r r e v e a l s the c o g p l e x i t y of the
hurnan p~ycholoyical a t t e r ~ p t to k e e ~pace with techn o l o g i c a l advdncernen t to~4ari;is" d i v i n i t y "
.
Yr'i th
every new triumph of the human species, our guilt
and a n x i e t y i n s n i f e s i s i t s e l f , :md Frankenstein
and h i s Monster r e c e i v e an i n f u s i o n of l i f e and thus
l i v e on.
Notes f o r Chapter One
1. c i t e d by Montsgue Summers, The Gothic Q u e s t
( ~ e wYork: Ruseell & R u s s e l l Inc.,
24, 409.
lm),
2.
Mary S h e l l e y , F r a u e n s t e i n ( o r the Modern
prometheus) ( ~ e wYork: Airncnt Boods, 1963), 14.
A l l f u r t h e r r e f e r e n c e s t o t h i s , t h e 1631 t e x t of the
n o v e l , w i l l be i n d i c a t e d by the a b b r e v i a t i o n : "F"
and w i l l be given i n the body o f the t h e s i s .
3 , Mary S h e l l e y ' e J ~ u r n a l ,ed. F r e d e r i c k L.
Jones (Norman: Universi t y of O k v l h o r n ~P r e s s , 1947)
i s l a r g e l y a r e c o r d of h e r readin& h a b i t s . See
Bur ton H, P o l l i n , ttPhilo80phical and L i t e r a r y Sourcee
of Frankenstein", Comwara t i v e Li ~ e r a t u r g ,17 (8pr. ,
1 9 6 5 ) , 97-108; f o r an inKling of h e r rande of reading.
4.
ondo don:
Filliam Hnzli t t , The S ~ i rt i of t h e Age
Grant Richards, 1904), 87.
6.
I b i d , , 25, 91
8.
I b i d . , 47
9. For i n s t n n c e , h e r journal r e c o r d s h e r
reading of AbbB B a r r u e l ' s H i s t o i r e du Jacobinisme
i n 1815. J o u r n a l , 48. Richard Holmes d i e c u e e e s
t h e i n f l u e n c e t h i s book had on S h e l l e y ' s r a d i c a l
thought i n the p e r i o d , 1810-12.
, (London: Weidenfeld &
10. Mary wrote t h i s i n February, 1815, when h e r
f a t h e r was on one hand, r e f u s i n g t o comxunicate w i t h
h e r and Shelley and on the o t h e r , i n s i s t i n g on h i s
i n t e r e s t i n s h e l l e y 's f i n a n c e s , J o u r n a l , 37
11.
Journal, 204.
12. Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Prometheus Unbound",
Selected Poetry and P r o ~ e( ~ e wYork: Holt Rinehar~
and Winston, Inc., 1965), 300).
3.
Ibid., I, L, 628
14. P.B. Shelley, Prose Worka, Vol. I & 11,
ed. R.H. Shepherd (London: Chatto snd Windus, 1888),
418
15. Ann Radcliffe, The Mysteries of Udol~ho:
A Romance (London: Oxford Univer~ity Fress, 1966r
672
16. Ibid., 672
17.
L. J. Swinyle, "Frankenstein's Monster
and its Romantic Relatives: Problems of Knowledge
in English Romanticism" ' ~ X H SStudies in Literature
ynd Lswunge , XV (spring, 1973) , 52.
18. Andre Maurois, Ariel: 'he Life of =helley
( ~ e wYork: Prederick Unger Publishing Co., 1952
298. See also pp. 217, 239; Maurois is one of ihe
critics who finds it necessary to d d e with one of
~helley's wives and he picks the more human narriet.
1 . C. Kegan Paul, killiam Godwin: His Friends
d Contem~orurieg,Vol. I & I1 (New York: Ana
K e s s , 1970), 11, 269.
Poli20. William Godwin, m u i r u concern-1
Justice and its rice dn Modern
and Happiness, ed. I ~ a a cKrumnick (Hsrmondsworth:
Penguin Books, 1976), Vol. I, Bk. 11, ch. 11, 168-77.
21.
Frankenstein, 95. ~ e eSwingle, 61-2,
22. Frankenstein (1818), ed. James Rieger
(~ew York: Pocket Books, 1976), 32.
23.
Ibid., 37
24. Max Scheler, Re~~entiment
, truns. William
Holdheim (New York: The Free Press of Glencoe,
1961), 88.
25. Mrs J u l i a n Marshall, The L e t t e r s and
Life of Mtlry S h e l l e , Vol. I & ~.r(London: kichard
Bentley & Son, 1889$1, 1, 38.
26.
Rieger, F r a n k e n s t e i n , l d l b , xiv.
27.
P a u l , 73.
28.
H a z l i t t , 17-16.
29. Ralph M. Wardle, Mary W o l l s t o n e c r a f t ( ~ a w r e n c e :
U n i v e r s i t y of Kansas P r e s s , l 9 5 l ) , 315-18.
30.
-7:
quoted i n Claude C. B r e w ' s w
J'&?.
ttDe-
ll
meRev
v BnQ
o on don: Keats-Shelley Memorial A s s o c i a t i o n ,
31. Muriel Spark & Derek S t a n f o r d , eds., &I
Best Mary: The S e l e c t e d L e t t e r s o on don: A l l a n Wingate,
19531, 20.
32. I b i d . , 21. See a l s o Burton R, P o l l i n ,
" ~ o d w i n ' sAccount of S h e l l e y ' s R e t u r n i n September,
1814: A L e t t e r t o John Taylor ," h a t s - S h e l l e y
Memorial B u l l e t i n , XXI (1970) 21-31 f o r a sympathetic
look a t Godwin's predicament.
33.
J o u r n a l , 30.
34.
Spark, 21.
35.
J o u r n a l , 24.
36.
J o u r n a l , 32-3.
37. Mary Wollstonecraf t , l b r i a o r the Wrongs
of Woman (New York: WOW. Nor ton & Co., l 9 7 5 ) , 74.
380
Ibid.,
27.
39.
Ibid.,
104.
40.
Ibid.,
28.
41.
Ibide
, 53-6
42. Mary W o l l s t o n e c r a f t , A V i n d i c a t i o n oq
the R i g h t s of h'oman (New York: K.%.
Norton & Co. ,
19671, 68.
43. J a n e t Todd h a s w r i t t e n a more d e t a i l e d
comparison of Muria o r the Wrongs OF vboman and
Frankenstein i n which she concludes, " t h e s i m i l u r i t i e a
between t h e e x p e r i e n c e s and c h a r a c t e r s of Jemima
and t h e Monster a r e s u f f i c i e n t l y s t r i k i n g t o suggest
t h a t Mary S h e l l e y had h e r mother's work somewhere i n
See llFrankenstein's
mind when she wrote h e r novel."
Daughter: Mary S h e l l e y and *ary R'olls tonecraf tM,
Women and L i t e r a t u r e , Vol 4 #2 fr all, 1976), 25.
-5
44. H. N. B r a i l s f o r d , Q h e l l e u .
o on don:
-G
Archon Books, 1969), 143.
45. Willaim Qodwin,
F r e d e r i c k Wnrne & Co., n.g.
47. Mssao Miyoshi, The Divided S e l f (New York:
New York U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1 9 6 9 ) , 47.
48.
"On Frankens t e i n 1 * , Prose Viorks, I , 418.
49.
"On Love", Prose Works, I , 427.
50. This i s one case i n which the 1832 is
v a s t l y s u p e r i o r to the 1818 t e x t ; i n 1818, t h i e s e c t i o n
r e a d , " I perceived a woman passing ne.ir...
Here,
I thought, i s one of thobe hhose Smiles a r e beI
stowed on a l l but me; she s h a l l n o t escape...
approached h e r unperceived, and placed the p o r t r a i t
171.
s e c u r e l y i n one of the f o l d s of h e r drees."
51. Krempe a l s o s h o ~ ~the
s same ~ i n dof narrow
a u t h o r i t a r i a n a t t i tude towards alchemy a s V i c t o r ' s
f a t h e r e x h i b i t e d . He c a l l s i t "nonsense1', while
Alphonee c a l l s i t "sad trash".
52.
I1The Assassinsll, Prose Horks, 11, 153.
54. k r y seems mornentvrily i n f l u e n c e d by
S h e l l e y ' s e a r l i e r i d e r ~ son vegetarianism which
blamed d i e t f o r s o c i a l i l l s . See Holrnes, 220.
55.
"On ~ o v e " ,Prose Works, I 428.
56. Killiam Godwin, S t . Leon ( N ~ V JYork: Arno
Press, l 9 7 2 ) , 416.
57.
Levine, 25.
58.
Georg Lukucs, The Theory of the Novel
bridde: M.1.T P r e s s , 1 9 7 1 ) , 61.
59.
(Cam-
John n u s k i n , "The Nature of the G o t h i c w , from
The Stones of Venice, quoted i n : The Genius of John
Ruskin, ed. John D. Bosenberg (London: George A l l e n
& Unwin,
1963), 164.
Notes f o r Ghapter Two
1, One well-known use of the ' r a n k e n s t e i n
p a t t e r n i s He G. K e l l s ' , The I s l a n d of D r . Moreau.
For t h e v a r i e t y o f f i l m m a n i f e s t a t i o n s of the
F r a n k e n s t e i n symbol, see Donald O l u t ' c The Frankens t e i n Leuend: A T r i b u t e t o Mary S h e l l e y and B o r i s
Karloff (Metuchen, N, J. : Scarecrow P r e s s , l 9 7 3 ) ,
and Radu F l o r e s c u ' ~I n Search of F r a m e n s t e i n (New
York: Warner Books, l
g
f
6
)
.
C h r i s topher Small ' IS c h a p t e r "Robots and
Resurrection" i n h i s A r i e l Like a Harpy: S h e l l e y ,
Mary and F r a m e n s t e i n (London: V i c t o r Gollancz
t t d , , 1972) s t r e s s e s our need t o f z c e the monster
we have l e t loose and n o t t o t r y t o manipulate
t h a t meeting, "K'hat makes the monster so t e r - r i f y i n g i s h i s u n p r e d i c t a b i l i t y and independence
of human w i l l ; he i s a n instruffient d i s o b e d i e n t
t o h i s rnu~er." Small then goes on t o show t h a t
though " t h e whole of SF r e p r e s e n Ls un a t t e m p t t o
s o l v e the problem with which ~ a r y ' s novel l e a v e 8
us," i t i s l i m i t e d by the f s c t t h a t i t s d e f i n i t i o n
of man i s " s c i e n t i f i c manw and t h e r e f o r e , Ecience
F i c t i o n "16 ineccapably trapped i n seeking t o c a s t
Satan o u t w i t h Satan."
Moreover, the whole growing e c o l o g i c a l awaren e s s i s a p r o t e s t a g a i n s t the F r a n k e n s t e i n - l i k e
"benef ac torsI1 who proceed with t h e i r s p e c t a c u l a r
d i s c o v e r i e s w i thout c o n s i d e r i n g the r e l h t i o n s h i
of t h e i r c r e a t i o n t o the r e s t of l i f e . Rachel a r s o n ' s
S i l e n t S ~ r i n q ,which i s an a t t a c k on the s h o r t s i g h t e d , i r r e s p o n s i b l e c r e o t i n and unleashing
of chemical p e s t i c i d e s , i s typ c a l .
e
-
f
-
"ectypal" i s a word c i t e d by Karl derenyi
H * E
P
N
j
n
i for t a
i n our temporal
which corresponds t o rarchetypal]...
world...
t h e phenomenal world, t h e world o r s e n s e
a s d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the a r c h e t y p a l world."
xviii.
By t l e c t y p a l w , then, I mean h i s t o r i c a l i n c a r n a t i o n s
of t h e a r c h e t y p a l r e l a t i o n s h i p of t y r a n t and v i c t i m ,
though what i s a t i s s u e i n the novel 2nd i n our
e r a , i n g e n e r a l , i s the p o s s i b i l i t y of ending t h i s
"eternsl" r e l a tiunship.
in hi
2
P
,
3.
Ibid.,
46.
4.
Ibid.,
37
5. Aeschylus, "Prometheus BoundM Aeschylus 11,
t r a n s . David Grene (New York: Washing ton Square
P r e s s , 1973). S h e l l e y made a study o f Aeschylus
i n 1816, when Mary was w o r ~ i n gon Frankenstein.
See
S&Jleuls
Journal, ed. F r e d e r i c ~L. Jones (Norman: U n i v e r s i t y of Oklahomv P r e s s , 1947), 73.
v:
6. Max S c h e l e r , "On the Trhgictl
in Franc sco:
Y i s i o n and Form , e d . Robert C o r r i g m
Chandler Publishing Co., 1965), 7.
an
7. Aeschylus, L. 189.
L. 442-3.
10.
Ibid.,
11.
I b i d . , L. 505.
13.
Ibid.,
L. 449-50.
14. I b i d . , L. 920-1.
15.
I b i d . , L a 191-5.
16. P a t r i
and the 'Two T r u
1972) , 42.
J. Callahan,
ca rank en stein, Bacon
'", E x t r t = , ~ o l a t i ~ n14
~,
(D~c.,
17. ''The C h r i s t i a n and the p r i m i t i v e pagan
l i v e d t o g e t h e r i n him i n a s t r a n g e and marvel!lous
way t o form a c o n f l i c t i n g whole...
His spirit
was h e r o i c , because c r e a t i v e , and a s E U C ~wa8 doomed
t o Promethean g u i l t . "
C.G. Jung, "Paracelaus",
Alchemical S t u d i e s , t r a n s . R.F. C. Hull ( ~ e wYork:
P r i n c e t o n U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , l 9 6 7 ) , 189.
18. William Blake, . "The Mzrriage of Heaven
and H e l l w , The Poetry and Prose of William Blake,
ed. David Erdman (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1965), 35.
1 . See Burton R. P o l l i n , " P h i l o s o p h i c a l
tive
and L i t e r a r y Sources of Frankenstein , I 1 Com~ara
L i t e r a t u r e , 1 7 ( s p r i n g , 1965) , 97-108.
20. Adam i s a n "imaginary" being a s a s i n g l e
i n d i v i d u a l , b u t n o t a s a symbol o f a c o l l e c t i v e
p r i m o r d i a l experience.
21.
Mary S h e l l e y , Mathilda, ed. E l i z a b e t h
N i t c h i e (Chapel H i l l : The U n i v e r s i t y of North Carol i n a P r e s s , 1 9 5 9 ) , 35.
22.
s e e note #2 i n Chapter One.
2-3. Sicall, A r i e l , 152. E i l l i a m H. Hildebrand
s a y s Mary evcjxes the conrkec Lion be tween Prorne theua
and the Creature by having the Credture "hanging
among the r o c ~ s " "On Three Prome theuses: ~ h e l l e 'ys
Two and ~ a r yL' One," S e r i f , X I (Summer, 1974) , 9-11.
.
24. John Hick, E v i l and the God of Love
ondo don, Macnillan & Co., 1966), 320.
25. F r i e d r i c h Nietzsche, The B i r t h of Tragedy,
t r a n s . F r a n c i s Golff'ing ( ~ e aYork: Doubleday & Coo
Inc., 1956), 64.
26. F r a n k e n s t e i n , 172. A s always V i c t o r
Frankenstein views h i s a c t i o n i n r e l a t i o n s h i p t o
c o m ~ u n a lmoral o r d e r m d n o t t o any a b s o l u t e o r
d i v i n e moral order. I n h i s a r t i c l e , "Mary S h e l l e y ' s
Modern Prometheus: A Study i n the E t h i c s of Scient i f i c C r e a t i v i t y " , \?'ilfred Cude emphasizes j u s t
t h i s p o i n t : "Mary S h e l l e y i s probing a problem of
s e c u l a r e t h i c s : she c o n f i n e s h e r work t o t h i s world
because h e r theme i s of concern only t o t h i s world."
Dalhousie Review, 52 (1972/73), 216.
27. William Walling, Mar S h e l l e ( ~ e wYork:
Twayne P u b l i s h e r s , Inc., 1 9 ' 7 e Y
28. Northrop P r y e , Anatomy of C r i t i c i s m :
Princeton University
Four Essays ( ~ r i n L e t o n ,N.J.:
P r e s s , 1957), 207.
29. Lord Byron, "Prome theus" S e l e c t e d Pot: t r y
and L e t t e r s ( I J ~ V
York:
~
Holt R i n e h a r t and h i n s t o n ,
Inc., 1965), 36-7.
30
Kwy VJolls tonecraf t , ' J a r i:I. o r the Y;ron,+.~
of Woman ( ~ e wYork: Yi.11. Ncrton h Co., 1975), 38.
31. M.K. J o ~ e p hw r i t e s i n h i s i n t r o d u c t i o n
t o h i s e d i t i o n of Frankenstein t h a t Prone t,heus
"was a l s o a n accepted m e t ~ p h o rof the a r t i s t , b u t
when Mriry S h e l l e y t r a n s f e r s this t o the s c i e n t i s t ,
the implic 2 t i o n s a r e r ' i d i c s l . "
o on don: Oxford
U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1 9 6 9 ) , xiv.
2
F l o r e s c u , I n Search, 34-6.
33. William Godwin, Enquiry Concerning P o l i t i c a l
J u s t i c e (~arrnondswort h : Penguin Rooks, 1976) , 770.
H e a l r e a d y noted ~ r : m k l i n ' sreputed words on
page 759.
34. J . A . Leich, "Yhe C u l t of F r a n k l i n i n
France b e f o r e and during the French Hevolutionw,
unpublished paper d e l i v e r e d t o the A ~ s o c i a t i o nf o r
18 th Century S t u d i e s , M a c ~ htse r U n i v e r s i t y on March
1 0 , 1977; 20.
4.
35.
Ibid.,
36.
F r a m e n s t e i n (lBlb), 39.
j 7 . R i l l i a i ~ :Godlnln, Caleb L i l l i a i n s ( ~ ~ n d o n :
F r e d e r i c k Vbarne & Co., n.g.),
preface.
38.
P o l i t i c a l J u ~ t i c e ,773-5.
40.
Ibid.,
776
41. Robert Kiely, The Rommtic Novel i n England
Hnrvard U n i v e r s i t y F r e s s , 1 9 7 2 ) , 164.
(cambridge, Mass.:
42.
Caleb Williams, 49.
.
I b i d , , 135. Caleb i s tryirig t o escape Gines,
and compr,ree F a l ~ n e r ' swatchfulness t o ~ o d ' s : " I t W a f 3
l i k e what h a s Deen described of the eye of Omniscience,
p u r s u i r ~ g the d u i l ty sinner.. . I t
45.
Ibid.,
144.
46. Frankenstein X X I V , 219. See George i e v i n e ' s
diacus5ion of t h i s phrase i n " F r a n ~ e n ~ t e iand
n the
Tradi t i o n of Henlism , I 1 Ibovel, 7 (l973-74), 23.
47. Lilliarn Qodwin, S t . Leon: A Tale of the
S i x t e e n t h Century ( ~ e sYorx: Arno P r e s c , l g 7 2 ) , 61.
48.
Ibid.,
preface, ix.
50.
I b i d . , 81.
51.
Kiely, 165.
52. Robert Oppenheimer, "The Tree of Knowledge ," The c u r r e n t - ~ o i ec : ~ e & d i n @i n Contemporary
Prose, ed. D. .Lo Cook Engleviood
iffs, X . J a :
P r e n t i c e - H a l l , 1966), $47.
53. Samuel C o l e r i d g e , "'l'kie St3tesman ILnual**
i n P o l i t i c a l T r r c t s of Fordswor t h , Coleridae and
S h e l l e y , ed. R. J. \Vhi t e ICarnbri5ge U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s ,
1953). See :;!am S h e l l e y s J o u r n a l , pxge 74.
54. Statesman Mmual, 3 2 . For Coleridde,
t h e balanced huaan nind i s a t r i - u n i ~ y o f r e s s o n ,
r e l i g i o n and the w i l l "which i s the s u s t a i n i n g
I n i t s 8taLe of
c o e r c i v e and m i n i s t e r i a l pov.er...
immanence ( o r i n d n e l l i n d ) i n reason and r e l i g i o n ,
the Kill appear& i n d i f f e r e n t l y , ~s wisdon o r as love:
two names of the same p o # e r , the former more i n t e l l i g e n t i a l , the l a t t e r more s p i r i t u a l ,'' 34.
55.
P o l i t i c a l Jus ; i c e , 756-7.
56. P.2.
I , ed:. R.H.
l888), 200.
Vol.
S h e l l e y , "Benevolence ,'I Prove i;'orke,
Shepherd on on don: C h a t t e and. ilrindus,
57.
P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e , 754-5.
60. P.B. S h e l l e y , "Notes to Queen Mab,"
e C o m ~ l e t eP o e t i c u l works of Pp.~!.cyAvsRkeaVel.
ed. N e v i l l e Rogers (oxford: C1.1rendon P r e s s ,
19751, 327.
61.
Mathilda, 7 0 .
62.
C a r l Becker, The Hejvenlv Gi ty of t h e
t e e n t h Century P & L l o s o ~ l l e r b
( i ~ eHaven:
~
Yale
U n i v e r s i t y P r e s b , 1966) , 150.
.
QJJ)
r
6 3 . ~,eg:inP a u l , Yiilliarn Godwin: H i b Friend8
( ~ e wYard: A n b Press,
& C o n t e m ~ o r a r i e t i , Val. 11
1970), 204.5.
64. Percy Bysshe S h e l l e y , "Prome t h e u s Unboundt1 S e l e c t e d Poetry and Prose ( ~ e wYork: H o l t
R i n e h a r t and V~inston, I n c . , 1 9 6 5 ) , A c t I , 48-58.
68.
Prome t h e u s Unbound, 11, iii, 36-42.
59.
Ibid.,
11, V, 42-3-
70.
Ibid.,
111, i v , 133-205.
71. C a r l Cr:_tbo, A Newton fbnong P ~ e t s :shelleu's
Use of Science i n Trometheus Unbound n e w York:
Qordian P r e s s , Im., l 3 6 8 ) , 118-138.
72.
Proizetheus Unbound, I V , i , 420-5,
73. This idea i s bused on K e ~ e t hBurke's
e s s a y , llOn Tragedy" i n T r d g e d y : Vision and Fora:
"For if tragedy 16 a sent;e of m a ' & ~ n ~ i ~ n paut rel i c i p a t i o n i n procebses Deyond h i m s e l f , we f i n d t h a t s c i e n c e
h ~ s
r e y l s c e d the o l d e r ine t - ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ys tsriucc o
Lure
l with an
his t o r i c d s t r u c t u r e which g i v e s the i n d i v i d u a l man
~ i n y l egrounds to f e e l t;wh p a r t i c i a , i i o n . Nhat
scisnce has taken from us as a person.11 r e l a t i o n s h i p t o t h e will of Providence, i t has r e g i v e n as
a person81 r e l a i i o n s h i p t o the slow unwieldy movements of' human s o c i e t y , " p. 285.
Notes f o r Chapter Three
1.
Mary S h e l l e y , F r a n k e n s t e i n , p. 41, s e e note
# 2 , Chapter One.
R.F.C.
2. C.G. Jung, Alchemical S t u d i e ~ ,t r a n s .
H u l l ( ~ e wYork: P r i n c e t o n U n i v e r s i t y Press,
3
I n h e r 1831 I n t r o d u c t i o n to the novel,
Mary wrote: "I b i d my hideous progeny go f o r t h and
The novel was popular a s soon a s i t was
prosper."
published, and many p l a y s based on h e r i d e a were p u t
on w i t h g r e a t success. I n September, 1823, when
she f i r s t c'arne back t o Englmd a f ~ e Sr h e l l e y ' s
d e a t h , she wrote t o ~ e i d hHunt: "But l o and behold!
I found myself famous. F r a n ~ ~ e n s t e ihad
n prodigious
s u c c e s s a s a dram3, and was about t o be r e p e a t e d ,
f o r the twenty-third n i g h t , a t the E n g l i s h Opera
House. The p l a y - b i l l ainused me extremely, f o r , i n
the l i s t of drama t i s personae, cari,e I
,
by M
r T. Cooke.'
This namelem mode of naming the
unnameable i s r a t h e r good."
C i t e d b y Mrs J u l i a n
M w s h a l l , The L i f e & L e t t e r s of Mary Wollstonecraf t
Shelley, 2 v o l s . (London: Richard Bentley & Son,
18891, 11, 94-50
4. Launcelot Ghyte concludes: "I have g i v e n
s u f f i c i e n t evidence t o show t h a t the g e n e r a l conc e p t i o n o unconscious mental p r o c e s s e s was
f i n post-Car t e s i a n Europe around 17'8&top c a l around 1800, and f a s h i o n a b l e around 1870-1880,
Also t h a t many s p e c i a l a p p l i c a t i o n s of t h e i d e a had
been s y s t e m a t i c a l l y developed f r o 3 1800 onward.
My o b j e c t i n doing t h i s i s i n degree t o b e l i t t l e
Freud s achievement, which would be absurd, b u t
t o show t h a t s n immense background of s u s t a i n e d
thought by a l a r g e number of i n d i v i d u a l s i n many
c o u n t r i e s unconsciously o r semi-consciously i n f l u e n c e s and s u p p o r t s even the most o r i g i n a l of minds."
The Unconscious b e f o r e Freud, ( ~ e wYork: Basic Books,
h c . , l96O), 168-9.
5.
Mary wrote t h i s on February 25, 1822.
Mary ~ h e l l e y ' tJ o u r n a l , ed. P r e d e r i c ~Jones, (Norman:
U n i v e r s i t y of Oklahoib. Prebs, 1 9 4 7 ) , 170.
6. I n 1816, Shelley t r a n s l a t e d la t o ' s
Sy~n~osiurn
and, according t o k i c h l r d Hol~nerj, Nas
g a r t i c u l s r l y i n t e r e s tell i n Dio timi's philosoyhy,
See Shelley : the Pursui t , (London: kieidinfeld
& Nicolson, 1 5 7 4 ) , 456.
7. Mary S h e l l e y , "The Pielcis OF F:mcy1I,
Mathilda, ed. E l i z a b e t h Ni t c h i e , (Chapel H i l l :
The U n i v e r ~ i t yof North C a r o l i n e P r e s s , 1959), 98.
8. Mary S h e l l e y , Tne L ~ s tVan, ed Hugh J.
L u ~ eJr. ( ~ l n c o l n :U n i v e r t ~t iy o f Nebraska P r e s s ,
1 9 6 5 ) , 1-40
9.
J o u r n a l , 193.
10. P.B. S h e l l e y , "Prome theus Unboundm,
Selected Foe t r y m d ~ r b i e ,( ~ e wYork: Hol t ~ i n e h , 3 r t
and Winston, Inc., 1 9 6 5 ) , I V , L. 467.
11.
Jung, 179.
12. A s R a r t i n '2ropp p o i n ~ so u t , " t h e a l e r t
re3der w i l l n o t i c e t h a t the s t o r i e ~{ I S she rerneabere
them, bear s0:r.e s i i r t i l a r i t y w i t h the Frankens t e i n
drealr.; thgre i s a ' k i b b of de-lth' , a b r i d e w t ~ o
~ Y O S ~is, .,e i n i e l a f m i l i il murder, snd
beco lies
a 'gigan t i c and preburn,iold mons Lrou6: s p e c t r e . "
Mary ~ h e l l e y ' b:tons t e r , (Bobton: Houyhton M i f f l i n
Co., 1376). 36-7.
13.
Jung, 1 6 2 .
14. G j i l k r ~ e t z ,"Lost Vio!nen. Mary S h e l l e : I n
t h e Shadow of P r a r u e n ~ ~ e i n ,@.
" , 3 ( ~ e b . , 14753, 14.
15. Kedan C. P ~ u l ,Lilliarc Godkin: H i s F r i e n d 8
& Contemporaries, 2 v o l s , ( N ~ YKo ~ K : Am5 P r e s s ,
1970), I 269. C h r i s t o p h e r Small s a i d of t h i s :
"To have one's c a p a c i t y f o r ' r e s e a r c h ' s p e c u l a t e d
uson a t the age of t h r e e weeks may be somewhat of
a burden l a t e r on." See A r i e l Like a H ~ P D Y :
S h e l l e y , Mary and F r a w - e n s t e i n (London: V i c t o r
Qollancz Ltd. 19721, 31.
17.
P a u l , 11, 214,
19.
P a u l , 11, 264-73.
20.
N i t c h ~ e ,ecl,, Mathilds, x i i .
21.
'hi1li.m Vlulling, : J I ~ K ~ S
Y h e l l e y , (New
York: Twvyne P u b l i e h i n d , I n c . , 1 9 7 2 ) , 21.
22.
Mathilda, 52.
24.
c i t e d by l q i t c n l e , B J .
25.
Samuel Hosenberd, " F r a m e n t tein o r
~ a d d y ' s L i t t l e donstc.r,lt The Goine AE Y O U Are Magauerade P a r t y , ( ~ n g l e w o o dC l i f f s , N.J.:
PrenticeHall Inc., 1 9 7 0 ) , 59-60.
26.
Ibid.,
63
27. Tropp p o i n t s o u t the similarities between the two b a b i e s and t h e p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t she
i s f m t i s i z i n g t h e murder of h e r own son. p . 33.
28. Ralph Wardle, e d . , C ' i l l i ~ m and Mary:
L e t t e r s of !Yilliarn Godwin and 'A,ry to9
7 ~ a w r e n c e : U n i v e r s i t y of Kansas P r e s s , l 9 6 6 ) , 80,
29.
C h r i s t o p h e r Small, 100-108.
30.
Mary S h e l l e y , "Notes t o ' ~ u e e nhIabtt1,
The Complete P o e t i c a l \a!or~sof P.B. S h e l l e y , Vol,
I , ed. N e v i l l e Rogers, (Oxford: Clarendon P r e s a ,
1975), 1, 338.
32.
I , 339.
Uury S h e l l e y , "Notes t o Queen Mabtt',
34. C l ~ u . 3 eC. Brew, S h e l l e y and M:iry i n 1812:
The "Dedicr?,tionl' of the "Rev01 t of 1 ~ 1 : - c m " ,
ondo don:
Keijts-Shelley Memori3l A s s o c i a t i o n , 1 9 7 1 ) , 11. 57-63.
-
3 . Burton P o l l i n , "M43ry S h e l l e y a s the Parvenue," A Review of Eng1it;h L i i e r u t u r e , 8 ( J U ~ Y , 1 9 6 7 ) ,
9-20.
37. Mary Zhelley , "The Parvenue", C o l l e c t e d
T a l e s and S t o r i e s , ed. Charles C. Robinson, (Baltimore:
The Johns Hopkins Univerrjity P r ~ s s ,1 5 7 6 ) , 266-74.
36.
Holmes, 334.
39. Harold Bloon a l s o
r a t h e r more l i ~ ethe poe L."
e r n Pro.aeLheut," The hinder^,
i n h o z a n t i c Triidi Lion, ( C h l
Chicago P r e s s , 1971) , 612.
~ h i n k"Clerva1
~
is
" F r u n ~ e n s ~ e ionr the Modi n t h e Tower: S t u d i e s
c ~ ~ o
Univel
,
s i t y of
40. Jarneb Hieyer, i n n i s I n t r o d u c t i o n t o Mary
~ h e l l e y ' bF r a m e n s t e i n , xxiv.
41. h i l l i u r n Michael Hose L t i , ed. The D i a r y
of D r . John Y ~ i l l i a mP o l i d o r i : 1816 o on don: Elken
Mathews, lgll), 128.
42. E l l e n Moer, "Female Gothic , I 1 Literary
Women: The Great H r i t e r s , ( ~ e wY o r ~ :Anchor Books,
19771, 147.
43.
Ibid.,
142
414. Morton Kaplsn, " F a n t . ~ s yof P n t e r n i t y and
the Doppelganger,"
The U n s ~ o k e nMotive: A Guide
t o Psychoanalytic L i t e r a r y C r i t i c i ~ r ~(New
,
York: The
Free P r e s s , 1 9 7 3 ) , 130.
45.
Chistopher Small, 160.
46. George Levine , " F r s n ~ e r t~esi n and the
T r a d i t i o n of Refllism" Novel, 7 (1973-74), 25.
147.
?Aasao Miyoshi, The D i v i d e d S e l f : A Pers, (New
pec t i v e on the L i LerLi t u r e of Lhe V i c t o r i a n ~
Y o r ~Univerui t y P r e ~ s ,l 9 6 9 ) , 82.
52.
Robert K i e l y , The Romsntic Novel i n
En rland, (Cambridge: H,irvnrd Universi ty Prest;, l 9 7 2 ) ,
&--
53. K s p l s n , 141. M2rtin Troyp confirms t h i s
r e a d i n g : "Frmkene t e i n w a k e k fron t h i s nightm3re
of E l i z a b e t h beconiny a corpse t o s e e h i s c r e i t i o n
s a i l i n g a t him i n what
b e Lel.rucci a conspirat o r i a l g r i n , f o r through t n e M o n s t e r , Frnnkens t e i n
w i l l a c h i e v e ,111 h i s drelir, v,ishes." 23.
55.
Levine, 2 7 .
56. I n o t h e r nordb, P ~ a t h e n b t e i nforsakes
h i s r e b p o n s i b i l i t j a E ,A successful a l c h e m i s t i n
I quo Le J u n ~a g a i n t o
r e jec tiny; his O V , ~ Lna t u r c .
i l l u s tri-t i.e rny p o i n t : " P , l r a c e l 6 u ~ , l i k e all the
p h i l ~ ~ ~ p &a ll ci r~~ de . - ~ l Wb ~
U ~
~beeking
,
for some t n i n g
t h a t v:oulc! d i v e h i c . a hold on the darr:, body-bound
n a t u r e of min, on the s o u l wnich, i r A , . r , - i t ) l y i n t e r noven h i t h the v,orlci and w i i n x d t t e r . , -1ppe5lred
before i t b s l f i n ihe terl.if'ying For!,. of s t r a n g e ,
dernonic:~l f i g u r e s ,,nd s e m e d to be the s e c r e t source
of l i f e - s h o r tening d i ~ e a t e . ' I h e Church n:i&ht e x o r c i s e
demons and bknibh them, but t h a t only a l i e n a t e d man
f r o r * hi^ ov,n n a t u r e , which, u n c o n s c i o u ~o f i t ~ ~ e l f ,
hxd c l o t h e d i t s e l f i n t h e ~ espec dxl f o r m .
Not
s e p a r a t i o n o f the nature^, b u t unicn of t h e n a t u r e s
was t h e g o a l of alchemy." p. 161.
57.
Marg:jret Atwood, " S p e e c h e ~f o r D r . Franke n s t e i n , " The Animals i n That Country
o or onto:
Oxford U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1 9 6 6 ) , 45.
58
C o l l e c t e d T a l e s , 65-80
59.
Ibid.,
121-135
60. Based on the evidence of P o l i d o r i ' s d i a r y ,
Rieger a r g u e s , "'poor P o l i d o r i ' , n o t Byron, wag
~ h e l l e y ' sp a r t n e r i n the s c i e n t i f i c c o n v e r s a t i o n
t h a t p r e c i y i La Led Mdry ' 6 germinal nidhLrrare image
of t h e Mon~ter."
I n t r o d u c t i o n , Frankenstein,
xviii.
61. S i l v a Norman, "Mary lkoll s tonecrtif t S h e l l e y ,"
omantic Rebel&: E 6 6 - 1 ~on~ S h e l l e y and h i s C i r c l e ,
Ca~~ibridge:
Harvard Universi ty P r e s s , 1973) , 73.
62.
Tropp, 44.
6 3 . The motto of Frankenstein i e a quote from
P a r u d i ~ eL o s t : !'Did I r e q u e s t t h e e , Raker, from my
c l a y t o mould me man?"
€4. A s P o l l i n h a s n o t e d , M3ry was reading
Ovidle Metamorphoses i n 1615. " P h i l o c o p h i c a l and
L i t e r s r y Sources of F r a n ~ e n t . t e i n "
L i t e r a t u r e , 17 (Spr., 19631, 102.
65. Robert Philmue, I n t o the U n m o ~ n : The
Evolution of Tcience F i c t i o n from F r a n c i s Godwin t o
H.Q. 6e118, (Berkeley: U n i v e ~ sty
i of C a l i f o r n i a
P r e e a , 1970), 83.
66.
Joseph Needham, A H i s t o r y of Embryolopy,
1959) , 237.
( N ~ WYork: Abelard-Schuman,
67. Tropp h a s i l l u s t r a t e d the s i m i l a r i t y
of the d e s c r i p t i o n of ~ l i z a b e t h ' sdeath scene i n
her* bedchamber t o the one given h e r e of V i c t o r ' s
nightmare. "Some of the d e t a i 1 ~ - - t h e corpse of
E l i z a b e t h , Lhe y e l l o n 1i;ht of t h e moon ~ h r o u g hthe
identical."
e h u t t e r s , and the Mone t e r , d r i n and a l l - a r e
25.
69. Michael P o l a n y i , Personal Knowledge,
(Chicago: U n i v e r s i t y of Chicaso P r e s s , 1958), 387-8.
70.
Using two ,~hotograyhs frorn the fibs,
Tropp shows how t h e f i l m , Bride of Yr*amersstein of
1935, improved on the c1;riasic F r a n ~ e ntse i n f i l m
of 1931 by rllaking the g a d , e t s and shape of the
"powerful engine'' sugyes t i v e l y L j h a l l i ~ . See ill u e t r a Lions ~ ' o l l o ~ i npa&e
y
2.
71. See f o r i n s t a n c e Wti1lia:n ~ a l e y ' a , N a t u r a l
Theology (London, 1802), f o r contemporary usage of
the ter.n "stupendous mechanism" r e f e r r i n g t o the
physiology of the body.
72,
Bloom, 128.
Notes f o r Chapter F o u r
1. Anais Min, The Novel of the Future (h'ew
York: C o l l i e r Books, 1 9 7 2 ) , 56.
2.
Mary S h e l l e y , M2ry ~ h e l l e y ' sJ o u r n a l ,
ed. F r e d e r i c k L. Jones ( ~ o r m a n :U n i v e r s i t y of Oklahoma Press, l 9 4 7 ) , 181.
3. V,'illiax A. !P,'allin&, M d r j S h e l l e
York: Twayne P u b l i s h e r 8 s , Inc. , 1972) , 79-
4.
Walling, 86-94.
5. Mary S h e l l e y , 'i'he Lab t M.;iri, ed, Hugh J.
L u e , jr, , ( ~ i n c o l n :Univerbi Ly o f Nebraska P r e s s ,
1965), 203; d s o x i v ,
7.
Ibid.,
166
8.
Mary S n e l l e y , Palkner8, A Novel, Vol. I &
I1 ( ~ e wY o ~ K : Saunders 8 O t l e y , 1857).
9. John Keets i n a l e t t e r t o George and
Thomas Keats i n December, l g 1 7 , S e l e c t e d Poems
and L e t t e r s , ed, Douglas Bush, ( s o s t o n : Houghton
Mifflin Company, 1 9 5 9 ) , 261.
10.
Weston LaBarre, The Ghost Dance: O r i g i n s
of R e l i g i o n (Eew York: A D e l t a Book, 1972), 342-3
Aeschylus. Aeschk lus 11. 'i'rans. David Grene.
York: Bashind ton Sguare P r e s s , 1'373.
New
A twood, Yardare t ,
"Syeeciles f o r D r . Frankenstein."
The Animals i n That Cour~try. 'i'oronto: Oxford
Universi t y P r e s s , I 968.
Becker, Carl.
The Heavenly C i t y of the E i ~ h t e e n t h Century Philosouhers. N e w Haven: Yale U n i v e r s i t y
P r e s s , 1966.
Elake, Vi'illiarn.
The Poetry and Prose of Eilliarn Blake.
Ed. David S r d ~ a n . New York: Doubleday & Co,,
1965.
Eloom. Harold, "Frankenstein or t h e Modern Prome theus."
The Rin,<ers i n the Tower: S t u d i e s i n Romantic
%adition,
Chicago: U n i v e r s i t y of Chicago Prarsel,
1971
B r a i l s f ord, H,No
S h e l l e y . Godwin and t h e i r C i r c l e ,
London: Archon Books, 1 969,
Erew, Claude C,
S h e l l e y and Mary i n 1817: The "Dedic a t i o n " of m l h e Revolt of Islam".
London: KeataS h e l l e y Memorial A s s o c i a t i o n , 1971 ,
Callahan, P a t r i c k J, "Frankenstein, Bacon and the "l'wo
' i h t h s ' + " ' . ; x t r a ~ o l a t i o n s , I4 ( ~ e c ,
. 1972), 39-48,
Corridan, Robert Vi. ed.
l ' r a ~ e d y : Vision and Form,
San Francisco: Chandler P u b l i s h i n g Co, 1965,
,
Cude, Wilfred.
"Mary S h e l l e y ' s idodern Prometheus: A
Study i n the E t h i c s of S c i e n t i f i c C r e a t i v i t y . "
D R ~ ~ o uReview
s ~ ~ , 52 (1 972/73)
21 2-2250
F l o r e s c u , Radu, I n Search of Frankenstein,
Viarner Books, I 976,
New York:
2rye, Northrop. Anatomy of C r i t i c i s m : Four Essays,
Princeton: Universi t y P r e s s , 1957.
G l u t , Donald F. The F r a n k e n s t e i n Lercend: A T r i b u t e
to b4arg S h e l l e y and B o r i s Kar-lof'f. Metuchen,
N. J. : Scarecrow Press;, 1973.
Godwin, m'illiam. Caleb V i i l l i a m ~ . London: Frederick
Warne & CO., n.g.
Godwin, Vl'illian. Enauiry Concerning P o l i t i c a l J u s t i c e
and i t s I n f l u e n c e on ;rodern J o r a l s and Happiness.
Har nondswor th: Penguin Books, 1976,
Godwin, b'illiam.
SL, Leon: A Yale of' the S i x t e e n t h
Century.
New York: Arno P r e s s , 1972.
Grabo, C a r l , A Newton Ainont: Poets: ~ h e l l e y ' sUse of
Science i n Proaetheus Unbound, New York: Gordian
P r e s s , Inc. , I 968.
H
ztI , l l i
Por t r a i t s .
i
h e S i t 0 the A:;e o r Contemporary
London: Grant R i c n a r d s , 1904.
H ~ c K ,John. % v i l and the God of Love.
i d i l l a n & Co,, 1966.
London: Xac-
"On ~ ' h r e eP1.01i:elheuses: ShelHildebrand, Yi'illian: H.
l e y ' s i k o and ivlary's One."
S e r i f , X I (sum., 1 9 7 4 ) ~
3-1 I
Holmes, Richard,
S h e l l e y : the P u r s u i t , London: i'keidinf e l d d Nicolson, I 974.
Jung, C.G,
Alchenical Studies.
'I?rans. F.F.C.
Hull.
New York: P r i n c e t o n U n i v e r s i t y P r e s e , 1967,
me
Unspoken Motive:
Kaplan, Y o d o n and Robert Kloss.
A Guide t o P s y c h o a n a l y t i c L i t e r a r y C r i t i c i s m .
New York: 'The Free P r e s s , 1973,
Keats, John.
Bush.
S e l e c t e d Poems and L e t t e r s . Ed. Douglas
aoston: Houghton X i f f l i n Company, 1959,
Prome theus: Arche t y a a l 1:nad.e of Human
Kerenyi , C,
Existence,
Trans. Ralph Wanhein,
New York:
Pantheon Books, 1563.
Kiely
, Rober t
.
The Roman t i c Novel i n E m l a n d ,
bridde: Harvard U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1972.
Cam-
Kmetz, G a i l .
"Lost Women. Mary Shelley: I n the
Shadow of F r a n k e n s t e i n e t l
, 3 ( ~ e b . , 1975),
12-16.
LaBarre, Weston. The Ghost Dunce: O r i g i n s of Religion.
New York: A Del tv BOOK, 1972.
"The C u l t of P r a n k l i n i n France b e f o r e
L e i t h , J.A.
and during t h e French R e v o l ~ t i o n . unpublished
~~
paper d e l i v e r e d t o t h e A s s o c i a t i o n f o r 1 8 t h
Century S t u d i e s , McMaster Univer.si t y on
March 1 0 ,
"Frankenstein and t h e T r a d i t i o n of
Levine, George.
~ e a l i s m . " Novel, 7 (1973/74) , 14-30.
-
Trans.
Lukaca, Georg. The Theory of the Novel.
Anna Bostock. Cambridge: M.L.T. Press, 1971.
Lyles, N.H.
h
Mary S h e l l e y : An Annotated A i b l i o e New York: G ~ l a n dP u b l i s h i n g Co.,
1975
Marlowe, Derek. A S i m l e Surnmer w i t h L.B.:
the
Summer of 1'816. London: Jonathan Cope, 1969.
Marshall, Mrs. J u l i a n . The L e t t e r s and L i f e of
Mary W o l l s t o n e c r a f t Shelley. 2 vols. London:
Richard Bentley & Son, 1889.
Wsurois, Andre. A r i e l : T h e - L i f s o f Shelley. New
York: F r e d e r i c k Unger Publishing Co., 1952.
Adiyoehi, Masao.
New
on the Li t e r a t u r e of the V i c t o r i a n s .
York: New York U n i v s r s i t y P r e s s , 1969,
Moers , S l l e n . Li t e r d y Hornen: The Great
Neb York:
Anchor Books, 1377.
Vtri
terse
Nelson, Jr., Lowry. ttNight Thought5 on t h e Gothic
The Yale Review, 52 ( ~ i n i e r ,1 3 6 3 ) ,
Novel,"
236-57.
Nietzsche, F r i e d r i c h . The B i r t h of Tragedy and the
Genellogy of Morals. Trans. Francis Q o l f f i n g ,
New York: Doubleday & Co. Inc., 1956.
Nin, Anais.
Collier-.
Th
Novel of the Future.
New York:
Norman, S i l v a . "Mary ~ ~ o l l s i o n e c r ~ Shelley."
i.'i
mantic Rebels: Essays on Shelley and h i s
r c l e . Cambridge: Rarvard U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s ,
-
O~nenheimer. Rober1t. "The Tree 2f Laowled~e."
The Current Voice: Readings i n con te&orary
wifrs,
Prose. ed, Don. L. Cook. En~lGwood
N.J. : P r e n t i c e - H a l l , 1966.
&
- .
Paul, degan C.
b%illiarn Godwin: Hic Friends &
Contemporaries. 2 vols. N e w York: Am6
P r e s s , 1970.
S h i l m u s , Robert hI. J n t o the Unknown: The E v o l u t i o n
of Science F i c t i o n from Francis Godwin t o
H.G. Wells. Berkeley:
U n i v e r s i t y of C a l i f o r n i a
P r e s s , 1973.
.. ibowledae: T o w
P o l m y i , Michael. person,=l
a P o s t C r i t i c a l P h i l o s o ~ h y . Chicago: Univ e r s i t y of Chicago P r e s s , 1958.
P o l l i n , Burton.
"Godviin'~ Account of S h e l l e y ' s
Return i n September, 18114: A L e t t e r t o John
Taylor."
~ e a t s - ~ h e l l eMemorial
y
Bulletin,
X X I ( 1 9 7 0 ) 21-31.
P o l l i n , Burton. " P h i l o s o p h i c a l and L i t e r n r y Sources
of Frankenstein."
Cornpmni Live L i t e r a t u r e .
17 ( s p r i n g , 19651, 97-108.
P o l l i n , Burton. "Mary Shelley a s the Parvenue."
A Revi
w w of
e
, 8 (~uly,
196q), 9-20.
R a d c l i f f e , Ann.
The Irlysterles of U d o l ~ h o : A Romance.
London: Oxford U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1366.
Rosenbelig , Safiuel. "Frankenstein o r Daddy's L i t t l e
Monster."
The Coine A s You Are Maz~uerade
Party. Englewood C l i f f s , N. J. : P r e n t i c e H u l l Inc., 1970.
R o s s e t t i , l ' i i l l i s m Michael, ed. The Diary of D r ,
John W i l l i m P o l i d o r i : 1616. London: Elken
Mathews, 1911.
Ruskin, John. The Genius of John Ruskin: Selectioq$
from h i s E r i t i n ; r s . ed. John Rosenberg. London.
G e o ~ g eA l l e n & Unwin, 1963.
S c h e l e r , Max.
Ressentiment,
Trans. Km. Holdheirn.
>Jew York; The Free P r e s s of Glencoe, 1961,
S h e l l e y , Mary. C o l l e c t e d T a l e s and S t o r i e s . Ed.
C h a r l e s C. Robinson. Bal t i n o r e : The Johns
Hopkins U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1976.
S h e l l e y , Mary.
F s l k n e r , A Novel.
Saunders & O t l e y , 1837.
2vols.
New York:
S h e l l e y , Mary. F r a n ~ e n s t e i no r the Modern Prome theus. Ed. M.K.
J o ~ e p h . London: O x f o r d
Univerzi ty Press, 1969.
S h e l l e y , Mdry. F r u r x e n c t e i n o r the Modern Prometheus. Ed. Jarneb Rie e r . N e w Yorlc: Pocket
book^, (the l b l b i e x t
Shelley, !ihry.
rne theus.
F r d n k e n s t e l n o r the Modern ProNew Yortc: Airmont Books, ( t h e 1831
'text),1765.
S h e l l e y , Mary.
Mary S h e l l e y ' s J o u r n a l . Ed, FredeL. Jones, Norman: U n i v e r z i t y of Oklahoma
P r e s s , 1947,
S h e l l e y , Moy.
The L a s t Man. Ed. Hugh J. Luke, Jr.
Lincoln: U n i v e r s i t y of Nebrask.1 Press, 1965.
Mathilds. Ed, E l i z d b e t h N i t c h i e .
S h e l l e y , Mary.
The U n i v e r d i t y of North CaroCha2el H i l l :
l i n ? P r e s s , 1959.
S h e l l e y , Percy B y s ~ h e . The Complete P o e t i c a l Xorks
of P.B. Shelley. 4 v o l s . sd. N e v l l l e Kogera.
Dxford: Glarendon P r e s s , 1975.
S h e l l e y , Percy Bysshe. Prose Works. 2 vol. Ed.
H.H. Shepherd. London: C h : ~ t t oand Nindus, 1888.
S h e l l e y , Percy Bysshe. S e l e c t e d Poe L ~ Yand Prose.
New York: Holt Hinehdrt 3nd Winston, I n c . , 1965.
Small, Christopher. A r i e l L i ~ ea Harpy: S h e l l e y ,
Mary and Frd-senstein.
London: V i c t o r Goll a n c z Led., 1972.
Spark, Muriel & Derek Stanford. MY Best Mury:
The S e l e c t e d L e t t e r s of Mary Wollstonecraf $
Shelley. London: A 1 1 m Yiinga t e , 1953.
Summers, Montague. The Gothic Q u e s t : A H i s t o r y of
a o t h i c NoveL. New York: R u s s e l l & R u s s e l l
Swingle, L.J. " F r a n k e n s t e i n ' s Monster and i t s Romantic Relq t i v e s : Problems of Knowledge i n
S n g l i s h Romanticism". Texas S t u d i e s i n L i t e r g t u r e and Lrtn.k:us~e.XV ( S p r i n g , 1973), 51-66.
Todd. J a n e t . ttFrunkenst e i n ' s Daughter: Mary S h e l l e y
M3ry Wolls tonecrsf t. " %'omen and L i tera t u r e ,
4, No. 2 ( f a l l , 1976), 18-27.
Tropp, Msrtin. Mary ~ h e l l e y ' sMonster.
Houghton M i f f l i n Co., 1976.
N a l l i n g , William A. M:ir~Shelley.
P u b l i s h e r s , Inc., 1972.
hardle
Boston:
New York: Twayne
, Ralpn, ed. Oodw i n and Mary: Let t e r s of
Y~illiamGodwin and Mary Wollstonecraft.
Lawrence: U n i v e r s i t y of Kansas P r e s s , 1966
M i t e , H.J., ed.
t i c a l T r a c t s of Kor w o r h ,
Coleridge an%helley.
Calubridye: g m b r i d g e
U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1955.
Vihyte , Launcelo t LAN. The Unconscious before Freud.
Nek YOFK: h 6 i c Books, Inc., 1960.
Wollstonecraf t , i h r y . Maria o r the Wroxus of Woman.
New York: K.W. Norton & Co., 1975.
V,'ollstonecraft, Msry. A Vindication of the H i ~ h t s
of Woman. New York: W.R. N o r t o n & Co., 1967.