You are also made to feel disappointed- this is what Victor Frankenstein had been working for; 2 years hard graft in which he was so “engrossed in his occupation” he barely stepped outside and began to develop severe paranoia. But now that he had finished, “the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart.” This quote shows that Victor is so petrified by what he has created he is breathless with horror. Adjectives like this really shift the empathize onto the verb.
Any person reading this would agree that the monster seems horrid, and when he appears to attack his creator, the “demonic” creature is seen to be pure evil. Victor’s comparisons are less than complementary- “A mummy again endued with animation could not be so hideous as that wretch. I had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then; but when those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion, it became a thing such as even Dante could not have conceived”
Dante was an Italian poet who was famous for his vivid illustrations of hell. For a devout society, something worse than hell would have bee unbelievable in its horrendousness. Another striking thing about this passage is how it is implied (“he was ugly then; but when those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion”) that Frankenstein preferred the monster before he was animate. He wished he were dead the moment he saw him alive.
After this harsh introduction to the monster, we are subtly distracted, as to forget about him for a while. Frankenstein confides in his close friend Clerval, and slowly recovers from the ill health brought on by stress. About a year after the monsters birth, almost all trace of him has left the pages, and it is not until Victor receives a letter from his father informing him of his brother’s murder that our senses begin twitching again. As he travels back to Geneva to comfort his grieving family- he catches a glimpse of the creature in a thunderstorm among the rocky boulders of the mountains, and is convinced that it killed William.
He then returns to his family, only to learn that a faithful, well respected and adored maid called Justine has been accused of the murder. He knows in his own mind that she is innocent but can see no way of preventing her death as he realises he would be branded a madman and she would still meet the same end. The key piece of evidence against her is a picture last seen on William which was found in the pocket of her garment. She protests complete ignorance to hoe it got there, and Frankenstein is convinced (rightly) that the monster placed it on her. However, her trial goes badly, and even a heartfelt, complementary testament from Victor’s fiancée Elizabeth, fail to avert her fate. At the last minute she confesses to the crime, as to avoid excommunication.
After this, Victor is thrown into total turmoil. He feels personally responsible for Justine’s death. He cannot bring himself to tell anyone about his terrible grief, for fear they will reject him with the same loathing as he regards himself. In order to recover, he goes hiking in the mountains. While on Mer de glace, he encounters the creature again.
The nameless beast confronts him in very good English, and begins to tell his story. This is where the monster takes over the telling of the tale. Throughout the story he is never given a name, and the terms used to refer to him are all derogatory and pejorative. This adds to the feelings of isolation he is laboured with throughout the whole book.
When the narrative changes from that of Victor Frankenstein, to that of his creation- we are immediately struck with a different impression of the monster. Within the first few lines of speech atop that mountain, a different point of view is put across- “I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend… my soul glowed with love and humanity”
In this passage it says his ‘soul glowed’- this means two things; not only is he good inside, but he also posses a soul, something that he had been denied of earlier in the story.
From here on in he tells the reader his awful tale. How he found himself left outside in the cold, isolated and totally confused about the world around him. Shelley asks the reader how they would feel or react had they been thrown into a world they neither understand nor comprehend. We feel sorry for the monster because he is entirely alone, and everyone that looks at him is repelled. This is not his fault, and for the first time we begin to consider true sympathy on his behalf.
He begins to show many enduring sides to himself, such as a, be it naive, appreciation of beauty. He is also oddly human- the height of this being his almost terror at his own voice and appearance. At this point we really begin to see what a bad start in life he has had. But still, we have to question whether such a terrible beginning can justify such a murderous end. Now we are undecided about the monster- how can something so seemingly innocent be corrupted enough to kill another?
Although we know what he ultimately does, it is impossible to fathom at this point how he could get into that situation. There are very little signs to suggest he is bitter or twisted in any way and the only possible warning signs are seen by his increasing tendency to imitate other creatures. We suspect this may have been the cause of his madness- “Sometimes I tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds, but was unable” This shows how a lot of his behavior stems from the fact he has no role model- he is totally abandoned and is forced to imitate the things around him which he finds pleasing. He has no concept of speech, and finds it extremely hard to express himself. He even scares himself with his own voice- “Sometimes I wished to expel my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again” He terrifies himself, and this quote shows that he eventually gave up on trying to express himself, a very basic instinct.
His terrible voice and hideous appearance force the monster into hiding- away from the scornful humans that inhabit the village. As time passes, he finds himself living next to the forest home of the De Lacey’s. This is where he learns about life, showing the reader he has a quick mind and even with intelligence and understanding he is still humble, helpful and good-willed. Rather than be corrupted by his knowledge, his understanding merely increases his ability to ultimately be more humane than any human character in the book. This striking point really draws sympathy from the reader, as they realise that no person or creature this nonmalignant deserves to be treated in that way.
However, knowledge also brings other more philosophical things to the forefront of the monster’s mind. With this understanding, a certain questioning nature- a negative noesis - begins to overpower the monster. He is compounded by martyrdom- his horrible angst, seemingly without reason or release, confronts him at every turn. And now he, already driven into hiding, has nothing but to dwell upon his sudden and baffling entrance on to this earth. Self consciousness is as malevolent as it is necessary.
He finds comfort and solace however, in routine. “In the morning I attended the motions of the cottagers; and when they were dispersed in their various occupations I slept: the remainder of the day was spent in observing my friends”
Notice how he ‘attends’ the needs of the cottagers. He never wants anything in return, and does not seem to question his own better nature. As well as this he is fascinated by their daily lives and routines, and he watches over them like an existential being.
It was from this careful observation that the monster learns to speak, and from then on can truly express himself. At this time however, he continued about his way, gathering things for himself at night and giving the kind cottage-folk a helping hand. When he “returned, as often as it was necessary, I cleared their path from the snow and performed those offices that I had seen done by Felix. I afterwards found that these labours, performed by an invisible hand, greatly astonished them; and once or twice I heard them, on these occasions, utter the words ‘good spirit, wonderful’”
Although the family do not know who he is, you can tell from this quote that they are grateful for the deeds he has performed.
From this point on he is determined to integrate himself with the Family, and as autumn passed, he was not fearful of winter, but full of hope. He believed, or at least, deceived himself to believe that he could at some point become cared for. His “heart yearned to be known and loved”. His feelings are poured out onto the pages, and once sieved and dismembered what remains is not a fiend at all, but a very human soul. It is this climax of emotion, this moment of brutal desperation, that really pulls at our heartstrings; we are not reading about a monster anymore, but one of us.
He compiles several schemes to introduce himself, but in the end decides upon a plan by which he will talk to the oldest, blind De Lacey before attempting the rest of the family. He waits until the family has left, and it is only the old man who remains. He then tries plucking up the courage to enter the house, but his bravery fails him. This feeling of anticipation and nervousness strikes a cord with all of us, and we feel almost as tense with expectation.
He enters the house, and at first everything goes well. The reader is no doubt happy that the monster’s ruse has gone to plan. But then, the remaining De Lacey’s return, and fearing the worst, beat the creature to the floor. Even in this instant of devastating disappointment- the monster still restrains from violence- “I could have torn him limb from limb, as the lion rends the antelope. But my heart sunk with bitter sickness and I refrained”
This final act of humanity rips us apart with feelings of sympathy and regret. He could have destroyed the thing that was at that point splitting his heart in two, but one final once of morality pushes its way to the front of his mind. The monster flees.
At this point in the novel, he is at his almost lowest point. He has been rejected- totally deserted by those he loved. He begins to let initial feelings of isolation creep back into his head- was he forever doomed to live out this fate(?); first his creator, the townspeople and then the De Laceys. How many more would look upon him with such distaste?
He cannot understand, nor can he express the emotions that confront him at this time. He becomes a wanderer- a lost soul, wishing he could hide from the world lest it strike it again. He is aimless, walking through a forest not knowing where he is going just wishing it were less like that behind him. “Forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy…” Without peoples mirrored faces to remind him of his awful appearance he is almost content; alone, lonely, but with no immediate fear to occupy his busy mind. He then comes to a “deep and rapid river”, and a “young girl came running towards the spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from someone in sport. She continued…when suddenly her foot slipt and she fell into the rapid stream”.
The monster acts instinctively. He darts out from his protective hiding place and retrieves the girl from the river. This demonstrates his A Priori benevolence- an innate sense of morality. However, fate is cruel, and just moments later a man appears, presumably it were he that was chasing the girl. When the man came close to the monster- a look of terror graced his face. He “aimed a gun, which he carried, at my body and fired”. The monster is left, not only reeling from the bullet but also carrying an immense inner anguish. He was good, he tried, but human society was too shallow and paranoid to accept him for what he was. He feels crushed- flattened by a vindictive and un-redeeming life. He questions his actions, angrily telling himself “This was the reward of my benevolence! I have saved a human being from destruction, and, as recompense, I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound, which shattered flesh and bone” We now feel overwhelmed. Sympathy is not strong enough to describe who we feel, so much already having been extracted.
The same is true of the monster. He is empty. He has nothing left, and so the vacuum of good-heartedness is replaced with cruel thoughts of vengeance. He wants to destroy the person who created him in the same way that he was destroyed. He wants revenge.
And in some ways, we support him. We have been made to feel sorry for him, to understand his pain, and now we can somewhat see his point.
He travels towards Geneva, in search of his creator. On his way, he comes across a small child, and in one glance- all hatred is lost. He thinks this young child could not possibly be afraid of him, that he would maybe be his friend. He thinks this because the child is like him- innocent, naïve and unassuming.
But when the monster approaches him, he lets out a terrible cry- “You are an ogre let me go, or I will tell my papa… he is Frankenstein” The creature was wrong, the little boy was scared of him. William also told the monster the one thing he wished to know, that he was related to Victor, and his death would cause the creator pain. This was the final straw. He strangled poor prejudiced William.
From here on we begin to lose sympathy for the monster. He will kill anyone in order to hurt his creator. He realises that mere death would be a release for Victor Frankenstein. He goes on to kill Cleval and Elizabeth. The death of innocents surprises us, and goes a long way to vanquish the sympathy we have built up for the monster. He sums up his opinions on the suffering he has caused by saying “I am wretched because I am miserable…tell me why should I pity man more than he pities me?” .
Overall, this is the point Mary Shelley is trying to make. Why on earth should we expect sympathy from a creature we ourselves have shown none? Victor has created something, merely for his own satisfaction, and had not spared a seconds-thought for the consequences. Mary Shelley speaks out for conservatism, morality and religion. We feel sorry for the monster because we feel sorry for ourselves, and the book is just as relevant in today’s society as it was then. Harry Quinn Schone