Although Scott and Croker were unaware of the true author of Frankenstein an unnamed critic from a magazine called, The British Critic writing in the same year reveals that he knows the author to be female, which could simply be a guess. He concludes his critical interpretation by saying, “if the authoress can forget the gentleness of her sex, it is no reason why we should; and we shall therefore dismiss the novel without further comment.”(251) This annoyed response to Mary Shelley exposes a sexist hostility that explains why the authoress was hesitant to reveal herself as the writer of Frankenstein.
One problem shared by all three critics is there inability and yet desirability to place the novel in a specific literary genre. In 1827 Sir Walter Scott again reviews Frankenstein and solves this problem at least for himself by placing it in the category of fantastic literature. This newly invented genre justifies the ‘absurd’ nature of events in the myth, claiming them to be characteristic of the genre. It is an area in which “unbound license is given to an irregular fancy”(254) and its only restraint is the “exhausted imagination of the author.”(254) He credits the novel by explaining that its intention is not to evoke “mere wonder, but is designed to give rise to a train of acting and reasoning in itself just and probable;”(255) that although the monster’s circumstances are unnatural his emotions are natural. The very existence of Scott’s second review shows that unlike some of his predecessors he did not immediately discredit the novel, but continued to contemplate it. Also, it is possible that at this later date he is aware of the true author of Frankenstein and yet he continues to give it due praise and consideration, unlike the writer from The British Critic.
Many years after Scott’s interpretation was released, M. A. Goldberg wrote the most detailed review of Frankenstein ever composed. Goldberg delves further into the contextual depths of Frankenstein than previous critics have cared to. With his mimetic point of view he recognizes the relation of certain themes in the novel to those in Nineteenth century England, such as the motif of ‘the temptation of knowledge and the punishment of estrangement.”(277) This particular motif he sees exemplified most clearly in Frankenstein, the Monster and Walton, all of whom seek higher knowledge with admirable intentions and in doing so accelerate their own demise, although Walton is able to escape complete failure. He finds evidence of many critical texts within Frankenstein, such as Milton’s Paradise Lost. He sees the same connection between the Monster and the banished Satan that the fiend himself sees and expresses to his Creator in reflection. Goldberg sees another great connection between the Monster and the banished Prometheus that Shelley herself saw. This connection is more obvious than the first due to the imagery of the icy mountains in which the Monster seeks refuge when expelled from society, just as Prometheus is expelled to the “frozen top of the Caucasus.”(278) Just like Adam and Eve in Milton’s Paradise Lost, Goldberg sees that “Walton and Frankenstein both sin” in their attempt to achieve higher knowledge. He explains the way in which “each discovers his error in assuming that knowledge is a higher good than love or sympathy.”(278) He sees Shelley’s novel as a modern rendition of these earlier works, which she was no doubt familiar with. Goldberg’s approach is definitely mimetic in its sole focus on the influence of the external world. He does not come close to formalist thinking even in his discussions of the story because he continues to relate events to those in other stories.
One opinion that most critics of Frankenstein share is the belief that there is great evidence in Shelley’s novel of her father’s ideas. Goldberg sees Godwin’s theory that “no being can be either virtuous, or vicious, who has no opportunity of influencing the happiness of others”(279) reflected in Frankenstein. In this assumption he is most likely referring to the Monster and the way in which his true character, whether vicious or virtuous is determined only by the emotions of those he observes and interacts with. Goldberg goes on to say that he does not however, believe that Shelley simply took the ideas of others and molded her story accordingly.
Goldberg concludes his comprehensive review and study of Frankenstein with a response to a claim that the loneliness in the novel is representative of Shelley’s own loneliness. He notes that it is more obviously symbolic of early nineteenth century England, removing the personal from this review. It is possible to see why he thought this way, since the early nineteenth century followed the age of enlightenment, which was obsessed with invention and the scientific; and Mary Shelley’s novel presents the horrors that evolve from such an obsession. It could be said that her novel acts as a warning for those interested in the scientific.
Miyoshi’s 1969 examination of The Divided Self theory in reference to Frankenstein reiterates the ideas of previous critics with a deeper focus on the context in which the novel was written. His critical approach is mimetic in its obsession with the influence of society on the work. It is also expressive in its insistence on realism. He agrees with Goldberg that Shelley’s upbringing had a profound effect on her writing. He emphasizes the duality between Frankenstein and Walton and suggests that after Victor’s death, Walton’s remaining life is an extension of Frankenstein’s life and what he could have had. He sees the connection between the characters most evident in their opening scene of encounter. They instantly recognize in each other the desire for a friend and a “longing for more inward knowledge and wisdom.”(287) Both men have removed themselves from society and their loved ones, although Walton still writes to his sister, and both men mirror each other in their connection with Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner. Miyoshi notes Walton’s comment that he “shall kill no albatross…”(21) he says that “the Frankenstein-Mariner parallel is strongly suggested at several points…”(287) which reveals Mary Shelley’s knowledge of popular literature.
He sees the strangulation of William as the point at which Frankenstein ceases to have control and the Monster “becomes a second Frankenstein.”(287) He gives the example of the Monster’s threatening address to Victor when he says, “You are my creator, but I am your master.” Miyoshi recognizes the important role of balance that Nature provides in the young scientist’s life. He feels that this balance is at last disturbed forever with the Monster’s reappearance and request. At this point the balance of power transfers from one to the other, however since Miyoshi feels that the two characters are one in the same, it is a shift within rather than a major change. Following this he adds that the “oneness of the two is manifest in still another way. Frankenstein and the Monster, engrossed with each other, are soon completely inseparable in their mutual hatred and common misery.”(288) Due to the eventual death of all of Frankenstein’s loved ones, the two characters gradually lose touch with society and the story focuses solely on their chase. Miyoshi sees the story as “a commentary on Romantic Alienation…”(288), which he finds most evidence for in Frankenstein’s “defeated” yet passionate death after having isolated himself from society for so many years.
Miyoshi examines the theory of combining the natural with the supernatural as a common motif in Romantic Literature. He says that in Frankenstein, Mary Shelley takes this concept to a new level by replacing the supernatural with the scientific. This makes sense to him when considering the surge of interest in the scientific at the time. Contrary to Birkhead, Miyoshi believes that Shelley achieved the aims of the science fiction genre in the organization of her story into a complete novel. He says that it is necessary for this type of novel to include regular, detailed events, encircled by the supernatural. He feels that Shelley accomplishes this most effectively with the DeLaceys. The description of their family “is straight out of the domestic novel…”(288) and yet it is overshadowed by the presence of the Monster. Miyoshi’s criticism is expressive to the extent that he sees the inclusion of realistic events in the novel as necessary.
Ellen Moer’s 1974 mimetic approach to Frankenstein examines the novel from a feminist perspective. Her suggestion is that Frankenstein represents Mary Shelley’s unsettled feelings about motherhood. She sees that Mary Shelley struggled with her consistent and unlawful pregnancies and loss of babies. With these feminine stresses plaguing her she feels that Mary takes advantage of the removal of the “Victorian taboo against writing about physical sexuality (including pregnancy and labor)”(297) to express her anxiety. Moer sees that Shelley “invented the mad scientist who locks himself in his laboratory and secretly, guiltily, works at creating human life, only to find that he has made a monster…”(297) Moer sees the scientist as reflective of Shelley in her guilty and mostly unsuccessful attempts to create life. She feels that Shelley viewed her children in the way that Frankenstein views the monster because she is overwhelmed by motherhood. She explains that Shelley is expressing the less written about, yet very common emotions associated with motherhood, such as “fear and guilt, depression and anxiety.”(297) Moer goes on to say that, “most of the novel…can be said to deal with the retribution visited upon monster and creator for deficient infant care.”(297) Detailing these events in her novel could be Mary’s way of mentally punishing herself due to her disdain for her skills as a mother.
Moer disagrees with the comparison of Frankenstein to Prometheus. She says that although both the scientist and Prometheus “break through normal human limitations”(297), Prometheus is doomed with “eternal life”(297) whereas, “Frankenstein’s exploration of the forbidden boundaries of human science does not cause the prolongation and extension of his own life, but the creation of a new one.”(297) “He defies mortality not by living forever, but by giving birth.” This is a bold statement to make since the author herself saw the connection between the characters.
Moer mentions Shelley’s journal “of her own creation”, which details her life as a “horror story of maternity”(297) At one point Shelley writes of her first born, “Find my baby dead…a miserable day.”(297) Moer recognizes the intermingling of death and birth in Mary’s own life as family members commit suicide and her own children die, while she continues to be pregnant and Shelley’s sister gives birth. She sees a strong connection between Shelley writing in her journal that she wished to bring her baby back to life and Frankenstein writing in his journal about the possibility of reviving life into the dead.
Moer attributes Frankenstein’s success to the brilliance of Mary Shelley and she sees that “the sources of this Gothic conception…were surely the anxieties of a woman, who, as daughter, mistress, and mother, was a bearer of death.”(298) In Frankenstein, Moer sees the abnormal ties of child-parent relations reflective of Shelley’s life. She sees this in Shelley’s lengthy description of family bliss in the opening of the novel, which is later corrupted by unnatural birth. Another rejection of child by mother that Moer sees in Frankenstein is in the life of Justine Moritz, which is also followed by death. Although unique, Moer’s interpretation of the horror story reveals more aspects of Shelley’s own real life horrors than most previous critiques. Her research brings to light Mary Shelley’s own terrifying tale of birth followed by death and suicide, which is mirrored in Frankenstein. It is obvious that Moer was not a formalist because of her great focus on the author as opposed to the work itself. Moer worked to find connections between events in the novel and Mary’s personal life. Whereas a formalist would have ignored these personal connections and assumed that the story had been produced from the author’s subconscious for the sake of the public.
Although most of these critics reveal mimetic criticism and romantic ideas each of them branch out into a different area of mimesis and produce varying and even contrary reviews of Frankenstein. For example, Moer’s interpretation would seem far-fetched for some critics, such as Croker and Scot considering that they were not even aware that the author was female. Perhaps the great focus these critics give to the external world and its connections to literature explains the eventual development of the New Criticism, which focuses entirely on the work itself. Whether or not this is true, it is easy to see that Mary Shelley’s reviews have become more personal and in-depth since the harsh and unbending reviews of critics in the year of its release.
Work’s Cited Page
-
Croker John, Wilson. “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus.” The Quarterly Review. Volume XV111, No. XXXV1. January, 1818.
-
Scott, Sir Walter. “Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus: A Novel.” Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine. Volume 11, No. X11. March, 1818.
-
“A review of Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus”. The British Critic. Volume 1X. April, 1818.
-
Scott, Sir Walter. “On the Supernatural in Fictitious Composition: And Particularly on the Works of Hoffmann.” The Foreign Quarterly Review. Volume 1. No. 1. July, 1827.
-
Goldberg, M.A. “Moral and Myth in Mrs. Shelley’s Frankenstein”. Keats-Shelley Journal. Volume 8. Winter, 1959.
-
Miyoshi, Masao. “The Logic of Passion: Romanticism.” The Divided Self: A Perspective on the Literature of the Victorians. New York University Press. 1969.
-
Moers, Ellen. “Female Gothic: The Monster’s Mother.” The New York York Review of Books. Volume XX1. No. 4. March 21, 1974.
