25.8.20 Frankenstein: an all too human monster
I was thinking about Frankenstein again today and wondering about the tragedy that made him a monster: the creature himself calls it ‘misery’:
‘Mary gave him a voice and a literary education in order to express his thoughts and desires (he is one of three narrators in the book). Like The Tempest’s Caliban, to whom Shakespeare gives a poetic and poignant speech, the creature’s lament is haunting: “Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”’ (Sampson, 2018)
Also, he is rejected by his creator: ‘If we think of the creature as a badly made and unattractive human, his tragedy deepens. His first, catastrophic rejection is by his creator (man, God),which Christopher Frayling calls “that post-partum moment”, and is often identified as a parental abandonment. If you consider that Mary Shelley had lost her mother Mary Wollstonecraft at her own birth, had just buried her baby girl and was looking after her pregnant step-sister as she was writing the book – which took exactly nine months to complete – the relevance of birth (and death) makes even more sense. The baby/creature is alienated further as society recoils from him; he is made good, but it is the rejection that creates his murderous revenge. As an allegory of our responsibility to children, outsiders, or those who don’t conform to conventional ideals of beauty, there isn’t a stronger one.’ (Sampson, 2018)
Such a sad tale, which parallels the sadness in the author’s life. That prejudice can create such a monster….
I’m interested too in the links between Shelley’s experiences around childbirth and the story of Frankenstein’s creation and rejection of his creature, which in fact is what makes it into a monster. Possibly rather strangely, I often refer to my sculptures as my ‘other babies’ – there’s something about the creative act of making for me that is similar to gestation, labour and birth. It’s poignant too that Shelley lost a baby and that this book took exactly 9 months to write. Was her book a replacement or surrogate baby? I understand that too.
Sampson, F. (2018) Frankenstein: an all too human monster Available at: https://www.ft.com/content/46233f88-1d4a-11e8-a748-5da7d696ccab (Accessed 20 July 2020)
I was thinking about Frankenstein again today and wondering about the tragedy that made him a monster: the creature himself calls it ‘misery’:
‘Mary gave him a voice and a literary education in order to express his thoughts and desires (he is one of three narrators in the book). Like The Tempest’s Caliban, to whom Shakespeare gives a poetic and poignant speech, the creature’s lament is haunting: “Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”’ (Sampson, 2018)
Also, he is rejected by his creator: ‘If we think of the creature as a badly made and unattractive human, his tragedy deepens. His first, catastrophic rejection is by his creator (man, God),which Christopher Frayling calls “that post-partum moment”, and is often identified as a parental abandonment. If you consider that Mary Shelley had lost her mother Mary Wollstonecraft at her own birth, had just buried her baby girl and was looking after her pregnant step-sister as she was writing the book – which took exactly nine months to complete – the relevance of birth (and death) makes even more sense. The baby/creature is alienated further as society recoils from him; he is made good, but it is the rejection that creates his murderous revenge. As an allegory of our responsibility to children, outsiders, or those who don’t conform to conventional ideals of beauty, there isn’t a stronger one.’ (Sampson, 2018)
Such a sad tale, which parallels the sadness in the author’s life. That prejudice can create such a monster….
I’m interested too in the links between Shelley’s experiences around childbirth and the story of Frankenstein’s creation and rejection of his creature, which in fact is what makes it into a monster. Possibly rather strangely, I often refer to my sculptures as my ‘other babies’ – there’s something about the creative act of making for me that is similar to gestation, labour and birth. It’s poignant too that Shelley lost a baby and that this book took exactly 9 months to write. Was her book a replacement or surrogate baby? I understand that too.
Sampson, F. (2018) Frankenstein: an all too human monster Available at: https://www.ft.com/content/46233f88-1d4a-11e8-a748-5da7d696ccab (Accessed 20 July 2020)