Tuesday 2 June 2020

Mary Shelley – Frankenstein, May 29, 2020

Frankenstein – The first edition was published anonymously in London in 1818. Shelley's name appears on the second edition published in France in 1823

Title page and frontispiece of Mary Shelley’s 1831 (third) edition of Frankenstein

It all began when four friends got together in a villa by Lake Geneva in Switzerland. On a stormy night in 1816, one of them, Lord Byron, proposed ‘We will each write a ghost story.’ The others were Percy Bysshe Shelley, the poet, his wife, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, and John Polidori, a young twenty-year-old aide to Lord Byron. 


Villa Diodati, where Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, Lord Byron and John Polidori decided to write ghost stories in the summer of 1816

Two years later the expansion of what Mary Shelley wrote was published in London as Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus, the first ever novel in the Science Fiction genre. John Polidori’s submission to the same contest was published as The Vampyre, now viewed as the forerunner of the vampire genre of fantasy fiction. The two established poets fell short, their ghost story efforts dissipating amidst their other labours.

By 1851 when Mary Shelley died the approximate number copies sold of Frankenstein was 7,000: far more than all the volumes of Percy Shelley’s poetry combined.  A copy of  the novel, signed by the author, with an inscription which read “To Lord Byron, from the author” sold for £350,000 at auction in 2013. Not only is the novel Frankenstein in print 200 years later, selling ~50,000 copies annually, but Frankenstein's monster has appeared in almost 200 TV and film productions. 

The films featuring Frankenstein's monster have been instrumental in promoting the story, although most of them deviate from the novel in crucial elements. The most famous portrayal is by Boris Karloff in the 1931 film:


Boris Karloff in Jack Pierce's makeup as Frankenstein's monster

This was Joe’s introduction to Frankenstein at the tender age of six or seven when his godmother took him to see it in Madras at the Elphinstone cinema. Boris Karloff acted in two follow-on productions, Bride of Frankenstein, and Son of Frankenstein.

Gopa says this novel “is not just a horror story about a monster. It is a deeply thought out work of literature and science. The introduction, through a series of fictional correspondences and recordings like that of an ‘epistolary novel’, prepares the ground for multiple narratives. The first narrative introduces an allegorical story and the protagonists. With each narrative the story takes shape. Subsequent narratives highlight the mental and moral struggles of each of the characters and how they search for different remedies to overcome their sorrows.” Frankenstein has become one the most analysed and debated novels of all time.

As before the readers were forced to convene by videoconference using Zoom,  to protect each other from the novel coronavirus. We wish to acknowledge the cooperation of Joe’s daughter, Rachel. 

Here we are at the end of the animated 2-hour session:


Devika, Joe, KumKum, Geeta, Pamela, Arundhaty, Priya, Shoba, Kavita, Gopa, Zakia


Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1797–1851) 
by Richard Rothwell ca.1840

The next session on Poetry will be held on Friday June 26, 2020, probably by videoconference. The annual subscription of ₹ 300 may be bank transferred to KRG’s account in the Federal Bank, details to be supplied by Thommo.


Gopa – Introduction and Notes on Frankenstein
‘Frankenstein was no minor piece of genre fiction but a literary work of striking originality’…
                                                                                                                                                       Muriel Spark

Mary Shelley was only a twenty-year-old English woman when her first novel was published anonymously in 1818. With a preface by her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley and dedicated to her father William Godwin, the book became an immediate sensation. “It seems to be universally known and read,” a friend wrote to Shelley

According to Sir Walter Scott, “The author seems to us to disclose uncommon powers of imagination.” Scott like many other readers and critics assumed that the author was Percy Shelley.

Mary Shelley was born Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin in London in 1797. She was the only child of the feminist, activist, and writer, Mary Wollstonecraft. Her father, William Godwin, was a prominent political journalist, writer, philosopher and novelist of the eighteenth century.

Godwin wrote children’s primers on Biblical and Classical History and a variety of books for children. He had his children home-schooled. They read from his extensive library and interacted with the many intellectuals who were his contemporaries. Mary had an unusual and an advanced education for a girl of her age. She also read her mother’s writings and was strongly influenced by them. By the time she was fifteen Mary was reading voraciously. 

“Her desire for knowledge is great and her perseverance in everything she undertakes almost invincible,” Godwin wrote to William Baxter the radical dissenter. “I am anxious that she should be brought up as a philosopher, even a cynic”.

Godwin’s views expressed through his writing was by then beginning to attract many writers, artists, poets of the Romantic School of music, poetry and thought. Though his political views were seen to be deeply radical, they were quite influential in shaping the British literary culture of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. One of his well-known followers and supporters was the aristocrat and radical poet-philosopher of the Romantic school, Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Shelley was already married at that time, but that did not stop Mary Godwin from falling passionately in love with him. To Mary, Percy was the embodiment of her parent’s liberal ideas of the 1790s. She eloped with him when she was sixteen to France and from there they travelled to Geneva where they teamed up with another reprobate romantic, the famous Lord Byron. 


Painted in 1781, The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli has gone on to become an iconic image of Gothic horror – it may have inspired Mary Shelly

In the summer of 1816 at Geneva, at a gathering presided over by Shelley and Byron, and tasked to write a horror story, Mary struggled for inspiration. One night she dreamt about a scientist who had created life, but was horrified by what he had made. Recalling her meetings with scientists like Sir Humphrey Davy (Davy’s lamp) and discussing Galvanism (the therapeutic use of direct electric current for pain relief), and readings about the occult with her companions, Mary became inspired. “Inspiration” and “individual genius” of the writer were the hallmarks of the Romantic School of art. 

On June 18 she read out the first passage of her macabre story to the others. It begins:
    “It was on a dreary night of November, that I beheld my man completed …

But it took two years to be fleshed out and was finally published in 1818. 


Flyleaf of a copy of Frankenstein inscribed by Mary Shelley to a friend, Mrs Thomas

Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus was in the Gothic horror genre. It tells the tale of a young scientist Victor Frankenstein, who in the pursuit of knowledge accidentally discovers the spark which could create new life. Like the mythical Prometheus, who is credited with the creation of humanity from clay, and who defies the gods by stealing fire and giving it to humanity, Victor too aims to create new life. His aim, which was purely scientific in nature [“to pour a torrent of light into our dark world”] and thereby eradicate disease and decay, is quite commendable. But the unorthodox use of science ultimately leads to the creation of a creature from cadavers. It was a monster was so horrifying that, “unable to endure the being he had created he flees, abandoning his creation”, without even naming it. Lonely and miserable the creature takes revenge on his creator, who eventually loses his life. 

This book is not just a mere horror story about a monster. It is a deeply thought out work of literature and science. The introduction, through a series of fictional correspondences and recordings like that of an ‘epistolary novel’, prepares the ground for multiple narratives. The first narrative introduces an allegorical story and the protagonists. With each narrative the story takes shape. Subsequent narratives highlight each protagonist’s mental and moral struggles and how they search for different remedies to overcome their sorrows.

In the last few pages of the book, the creature justifies his actions.

“My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of change without torture such as you cannot even imagine”  

With this book Mary Shelley firmly rejected Individualism and Egoism, the traditional qualities of politicised romanticism espoused by her father and her husband, the two most influential men in her life. Mary replaces these qualities with her own ideas of Enlightenment to improve society. 

A second edition in 1821 credited Mary Shelley as the author of the book. This edition included a new preface by her, presenting the genesis of the tale. Mary later wrote, that as far as she could recollect, Percy’s contribution was limited to the preface of the first edition only. 

When critics learned that the writer was a female and the daughter of William Godwin, one of them dismissed the novel without further comment. Another attacked the book as a ‘feeble imitation’ of Mr. Godwin’s novels. 

Over the years the Frankenstein story has been adapted for films, television and theatre. The story of the ‘monster’ and his creator has continued to enthral generations with the same fascination as when it was first published.

Frankenstein has become one the most analysed and debated novels of all time. It is cited today in arguments on the ethics of scientific progress. “The Frankenstein Effect” has become synonymous with questionable researches in genetics, as well as regarding In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) and Artificial Intelligence (AI).  

The M.I.T Press has published an edition of the original text annotated for scientists, engineers and “creators” of all kind. It was prepared by the leaders of the Frankenstein Bicentennial Project, at Arizona State University. See the full text at:

Mary Shelly’s book is now considered to be the first science fiction novel ever written.  A list called ‘Five Best Books’, has Frankenstein among them. 

You can watch this video  an 8-minute introduction to Frankenstein

Here’s the trailer to an interesting film made in 2018 on Mary Shelley’s life, featuring Elle Fanning and Maisie Williams.

References:
2. The Strange and Twisted Life of “Frankenstein”
3. Mary Shelley – Wikipedia
4. Frankenstein – Wikipedia
5. Mary Shelley: Her Life, Her Fiction, Her Monsters by Anne K. Mellor, Routledge
6. Mary Shelley: A Biography by Muriel Spark, Carcanet Press
7. Poetry Foundation has an excellent literary biography of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley.
8. Full text of Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/84



Reading Passages, Commentary, and Discussions

Geetha
Ch 3 – Prof. Waldman at the university approves of Victor Frankenstein’s past surveys of Cornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus. He recommends the study of chemistry and mathematics, and gives Frankenstein references to books he should read.
Geetha chose this passage as it holds a sense of excitement and promise after Victor Frankenstein meets Prof. M. Waldman, who encourages him to go forward with his ideas. It takes the reader along in the anticipation that something great is about to happen.
I closed not my eyes that night. My internal being was in a state of insurrection and turmoil; I felt that order would thence arise, but I had no power to produce it. By degrees, after the morning’s dawn, sleep came. I awoke, and my yesternight’s thoughts were as a dream. There only remained a resolution to return to my ancient studies and to devote myself to a science for which I believed myself to possess a natural talent. On the same day I paid M. Waldman a visit. His manners in private were even more mild and attractive than in public, for there was a certain dignity in his mien during his lecture which in his own house was replaced by the greatest affability and kindness. I gave him pretty nearly the same account of my former pursuits as I had given to his fellow professor. He heard with attention the little narration concerning my studies and smiled at the names of Cornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus, but without the contempt that M. Krempe had exhibited. He said that “These were men to whose indefatigable zeal modern philosophers were indebted for most of the foundations of their knowledge. They had left to us, as an easier task, to give new names and arrange in connected classifications the facts which they in a great degree had been the instruments of bringing to light. The labours of men of genius, however erroneously directed, scarcely ever fail in ultimately turning to the solid advantage of mankind.” I listened to his statement, which was delivered without any presumption or affectation, and then added that his lecture had removed my prejudices against modern chemists; I expressed myself in measured terms, with the modesty and deference due from a youth to his instructor, without letting escape (inexperience in life would have made me ashamed) any of the enthusiasm which stimulated my intended labours. I requested his advice concerning the books I ought to procure.
“I am happy,” said M. Waldman, “to have gained a disciple; and if your application equals your ability, I have no doubt of your success. Chemistry is that branch of natural philosophy in which the greatest improvements have been and may be made; it is on that account that I have made it my peculiar study; but at the same time, I have not neglected the other branches of science. A man would make but a very sorry chemist if he attended to that department of human knowledge alone. If your wish is to become really a man of science and not merely a petty experimentalist, I should advise you to apply to every branch of natural philosophy, including mathematics.”

He then took me into his laboratory and explained to me the uses of his various machines, instructing me as to what I ought to procure and promising me the use of his own when I should have advanced far enough in the science not to derange their mechanism. He also gave me the list of books which I had requested, and I took my leave.

Thus ended a day memorable to me; it decided my future destiny.

Discussion
Every character in the novel is a victim, even Victor falls victim at the end. It is surprising that no scientist has been able to create life until now – but it is also a relief since we can do without the many difficult questions it would pose. 

Joe said unlike these early science fiction stories, scientists now realise they cannot start at the macro level to create life, but need to work at the micro level in synthesising molecules to form amino acids, then proteins, and the long chains of proteins which form the basic unit of life in all creatures. Amino acids and proteins are the building blocks. At some point in the evolution of the Earth ~4 billion years ago a transition was made from the chemistry of these molecular constituents to Life itself, which is capable of replicating. It is this transition that has not yet been generated in the laboratory.

Arundhaty

Ch 4 – Frankenstein discovers the secret of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter and resolves to create a gigantic stature, that is to say, about eight feet in height, and proportionably large.
Remember, I am not recording the vision of a madman. The sun does not more certainly shine in the heavens than that which I now affirm is true. Some miracle might have produced it, yet the stages of the discovery were distinct and probable. After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter.

What had been the study and desire of the wisest men since the creation of the world was now within my grasp. Not that, like a magic scene, it all opened upon me at once: the information I had obtained was of a nature rather to direct my endeavours so soon as I should point them towards the object of my search than to exhibit that object already accomplished. I was like the Arabian who had been buried with the dead and found a passage to life, aided only by one glimmering and seemingly ineffectual light.

When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. Although I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to prepare a frame for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable difficulty and labour. I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organization; but my imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. The materials at present within my command hardly appeared adequate to so arduous an undertaking, but I doubted not that I should ultimately succeed.

It was with these feelings that I began the creation of a human being. As the minuteness of the parts formed a great hindrance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make the being of a gigantic stature, that is to say, about eight feet in height, and proportionably large. After having formed this determination and having spent some months in successfully collecting and arranging my materials, I began.

No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.

A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs. Pursuing these reflections, I thought that if I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might in process of time (although I now found it impossible) renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to corruption. 

Commentary:
While researching this book I came across a plethora of theories attributed to Mary Shelley's work. The Carnegie Library lecturer on Frankenstein says that Mary Shelly named the protagonist and the title Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus after Benjamin Franklin who discovered that lightning is a discharge of electricity.

She decided on his first name as Victor because the protagonist wanted to gain victory over the mystery of life and death.

In Greek mythology, Prometheus who steals fire from the gods was chained to a rock. An eagle comes everyday to eat his liver, but it regenerates. The Greeks believed that the seed of human emotions lay in the liver, just as romantics now claim it lies in the heart.

The monster symbolises the rock to which Frankenstein is tied and cannot escape. And the monster rips his heart apart, each time taking away a close, loved person.

In 1814 Mary Shelly was a liberated young girl and fell in love with a married man Percy Shelly, eloped and travelled through Europe with him. She lost her first three children and only the last survived. It is suggested that in this story she is living through her own guilt.

She was called a Gothic writer as the Gothic structure was about 3 things: Man versus man, Man versus God, and Man versus Nature.

She was a contemporary of Coleridge, Wordsworth and Byron who talked of haunted castles, and supernatural elements in conflict with nature and monsters.

Frankenstein uses  the  term dæmon to describe the creature, and not demon as in ‘an evil character.’ In Greek mythology dæmon is a supernatural being, beyond the realm of nature and with supernatural powers.

The Monster he had created moved at great speed and crossed continents effortlessly and was able to live in a cave in the North Pole.

The lecturer says that in the book Frankenstein only talks of the ‘materials’ required to execute the task. But in the movie Frankenstein by Kenneth Branagh, he steals amniotic fluid from women giving birth in prisons, and body parts from graveyards and criminals. When Professor Waldman dies, he takes his brain. The monster is played by Robert De Niro.

Once the form is ready Frankenstein hangs it up and stretches it out in the form of a crucifix and passes high voltage electricity through it, using the effects of lightning to bring it to life.

The passage Arundhaty chose talks of Victor being the ‘father’ of his creation when he says “No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs.”

Though Mary Shelly did not write the story in any religious context and was more of a scientific writer, she was far ahead of her times, as she also dealt with moral issues, such as the reuse of body parts for scientific purposes. This is something we are still grappling with in the age of modern organ transplants and intrauterine insemination. Creating life in new ways, not according to nature, is now common. DNA and genetic studies open the way for yet more manipulation of life by humans.

Discussion
Devika said her heart got heavier and heavier as she read, knowing that one by one everyone will die. She could barely make it through ten pages a day, carrying the burden of this sadness. 


Frankenstein - how key characters die (click to enlarge)

Gopa pointed out that Frankenstein's bet on life did not pan out. Priya, however, admired his quest for far-ranging knowledge.

Shoba
Ch 4 – Frankenstein engaged in his studies at the university reflects that the pursuit of knowledge should not disturb calmness of mind.
A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to disturb his tranquillity. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this rule. If the study to which you apply yourself has a tendency to weaken your affections and to destroy your taste for those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that study is certainly unlawful, that is to say, not befitting the human mind. If this rule were always observed; if no man allowed any pursuit whatsoever to interfere with the tranquillity of his domestic affections, Greece had not been enslaved, Cæsar would have spared his country, America would have been discovered more gradually, and the empires of Mexico and Peru had not been destroyed.
But I forget that I am moralising in the most interesting part of my tale, and your looks remind me to proceed.

My father made no reproach in his letters and only took notice of my silence by inquiring into my occupations more particularly than before. Winter, spring, and summer passed away during my labours; but I did not watch the blossom or the expanding leaves—sights which before always yielded me supreme delight—so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation.

Saras
Ch 5 – Frankenstein describes his emotions on creating his monster and his first sight of the hideous creation
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.


Frankenstein’s monster comes to life in the film – It's alive, it's alive!

How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.

The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room and continued a long time traversing my bed-chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude succeeded to the tumult I had before endured, and I threw myself on the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain; I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her, but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed; when, by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch—the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited, where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life.

Oh! No mortal could support the horror of that countenance. 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. 

Discussion
Here's the famous scene from the 1935 film in which the monster is brought to life.

If the creature had turned out to be handsome the novel would have taken a different turn – not been a horror story at all, but a fantasy romance.

Joe said the author has demonstrated a great deal of sympathy for the so-called monster. More sympathy than Frankenstein showed. When his experiment on animating cadavers goes awry, his response is to wash his hands off the whole business. It is not until his creature bites back at his family, and makes clear his intent to take revenge, that Frankenstein decides he must act.

Devika


Ch 7 – The creature appears after the death of Victor’s brother, William, and Victor decides to go out and pursue him across the mountains. 
While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific, I wandered on with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud, “William, dear angel! this is thy funeral, this thy dirge!” As I said these words, I perceived in the gloom a figure which stole from behind a clump of trees near me; I stood fixed, gazing intently: I could not be mistaken. A flash of lightning illuminated the object, and discovered its shape plainly to me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy dæmon, to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be (I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced of its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree for support. The figure passed me quickly, and I lost it in the gloom. Nothing in human shape could have destroyed the fair child. He was the murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence of the idea was an irresistible proof of the fact. I thought of pursuing the devil; but it would have been in vain, for another flash discovered him to me hanging among the rocks of the nearly perpendicular ascent of Mont Salêve, a hill that bounds Plainpalais on the south. He soon reached the summit, and disappeared.

I remained motionless. The thunder ceased; but the rain still continued, and the scene was enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. I revolved in my mind the events which I had until now sought to forget: the whole train of my progress toward the creation; the appearance of the works of my own hands at my bedside; its departure. Two years had now nearly elapsed since the night on which he first received life; and was this his first crime? Alas! I had turned loose into the world a depraved wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery; had he not murdered my brother?

No one can conceive the anguish I suffered during the remainder of the night, which I spent, cold and wet, in the open air. But I did not feel the inconvenience of the weather; my imagination was busy in scenes of evil and despair. I considered the being whom I had cast among mankind, and endowed with the will and power to effect purposes of horror, such as the deed which he had now done, nearly in the light of my own vampire, my own spirit let loose from the grave, and forced to destroy all that was dear to me.

Day dawned; and I directed my steps towards the town. The gates were open, and I hastened to my father’s house. My first thought was to discover what I knew of the murderer, and cause instant pursuit to be made. But I paused when I reflected on the story that I had to tell. A being whom I myself had formed, and endued with life, had met me at midnight among the precipices of an inaccessible mountain. I remembered also the nervous fever with which I had been seized just at the time that I dated my creation, and which would give an air of delirium to a tale otherwise so utterly improbable. I well knew that if any other had communicated such a relation to me, I should have looked upon it as the ravings of insanity. Besides, the strange nature of the animal would elude all pursuit, even if I were so far credited as to persuade my relatives to commence it. And then of what use would be pursuit? Who could arrest a creature capable of scaling the overhanging sides of Mont Salêve? These reflections determined me, and I resolved to remain silent.

Commentary
This was a story that wrenched at my heart strings. What is right? And what is wrong?

On the one hand you feel sorry for Victor, who thanks to his thirst for knowledge, made this creature – though it was not something he had imagined when it was completed. On the other hand you feel for the creature who through no fault of his was shunned by humans.

So many thoughts crowd in the mind when one reads this book. Why did Victor make a creature that was gigantic and ugly?  He could have planned carefully and a created a regular size man. Then even if it was ugly it would not frighten people off.

And once the creature came to life Victor should have monitored and followed its progress, not abandoned it because of his personal abhorrence. Would careful tracking of lab results not be expected of a scientist-inventor?

The creature on his part gets violent only after total rejection by humans! From a gentle being he becomes a demon and destroys the whole Frankenstein family.

This shows how adverse impacts can change a person’s behaviour. This is so beautifully expressed by Mary Shelley’s writing. It leaves us with the great question ... What if??? 

Zakia


Ch10 – The creature claims justice and affection from Frankenstein, his creator. Can the creature help abhorring those who hate him, without reason, just based on appearance? But the creature is rebuffed in his pleas.
He easily eluded me and said,
“Be calm! I entreat you to hear me before you give vent to your hatred on my devoted head. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery? Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. 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.”

“Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, in which one must fall.”

“How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow creatures, who owe me nothing? They spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they are kinder to me than your fellow beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great, that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale; when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder, and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me; listen to me, and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your hands.” 

Discussion
The creature reflects on his own appearance and sees he is unloved by the world, that he looks like a monster and they treat him as such. The creature shows a great deal of self-awareness. If the creature had turned out to be handsome the novel would have taken a different turn, not been a horror story at all, but perhaps a fantasy romance. 

Joe alluded to the old Malayalee bias (nay, India-wide bias) for fair children. The first inquiry on the birth of a child is: കുട്ടിക്ക് നിറം ഉന്ദൊ? [kuttiku niram undo?]

That is to say, does the child have colour, where ‘colour’ is opposite to its connotation in the West where it is equated to being black or brown. Pamela agreed.

Kavita thought the creature was more more wronged against than wronging.

Pamela 

Ch 13 – Frankenstein’s creature learns about human society and its values by watching the cottagers in the forest. He notes the contrast with himself, ‘a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned.’ (659 words)
“These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous and magnificent, yet so vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and godlike. To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour that can befall a sensitive being; to be base and vicious, as many on record have been, appeared the lowest degradation, a condition more abject than that of the blind mole or harmless worm. For a long time I could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased and I turned away with disgust and loathing.

“Every conversation of the cottagers now opened new wonders to me. While I listened to the instructions which Felix bestowed upon the Arabian, the strange system of human society was explained to me. I heard of the division of property, of immense wealth and squalid poverty, of rank, descent, and noble blood.

“The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow creatures were high and unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only one of these advantages, but without either he was considered, except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to waste his powers for the profits of the chosen few! And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?

“I cannot describe to you the agony that these reflections inflicted upon me; I tried to dispel them, but sorrow only increased with knowledge. Oh, that I had for ever remained in my native wood, nor known nor felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst, and heat!

“Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind when it has once seized on it like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death—a state which I feared yet did not understand. I admired virtue and good feelings and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my cottagers, but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except through means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and unknown, and which rather increased than satisfied the desire I had of becoming one among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha and the animated smiles of the charming Arabian were not for me. The mild exhortations of the old man and the lively conversation of the loved Felix were not for me. Miserable, unhappy wretch!

“Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the difference of sexes, and the birth and growth of children, how the father doted on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the older child, how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapped up in the precious charge, how the mind of youth expanded and gained knowledge, of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which bind one human being to another in mutual bonds.

Commentary:
Mary Shelley made me think about my life with a new perspective – what if I hadn't been born as a baby? What if I hadn't had parents or siblings? Does beauty really ‘lie in the eyes of the beholder’ ? 

The creation of such a monster is really mind-boggling! What future intrigues the monster will be up to keeps the reader in suspense, glued to the book.

I liked the use of contrasting characters  in the story – the ugliness and cruelty of the monster is contrasted with the beauty and tender emotions of Elizabeth; the love of the father is a foil for the hate of the monster. Mary Shelley also talks about the significance of love for our existence. The monster craved to be loved. The importance of love is brought out in the Gospels – “So faith, hope and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” I Corinthians, 13:13

Mary Shelley’s vivid poetic description of the Swiss Alps makes the reader feel shee has actually been there and experienced the awesome beauty of nature amid snow-clad mountains.

The experience of Victor made me think of the monsters we create in our own lives. Covid-19 is our monster today! Are we going to let it get the better of us, or are we going to fight back and win the battle?

Geeta:

Ch 13 – Frankenstein’s creature reflects on himself, and sees he is excluded from many human emotions and relationships. Miserable, unhappy wretch!
“The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow creatures were high and unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only one of these advantages, but without either he was considered, except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to waste his powers for the profits of the chosen few! And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?

“I cannot describe to you the agony that these reflections inflicted upon me; I tried to dispel them, but sorrow only increased with knowledge. Oh, that I had for ever remained in my native wood, nor known nor felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst, and heat!

“Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind when it has once seized on it like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death—a state which I feared yet did not understand. I admired virtue and good feelings and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my cottagers, but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except through means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and unknown, and which rather increased than satisfied the desire I had of becoming one among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha and the animated smiles of the charming Arabian were not for me. The mild exhortations of the old man and the lively conversation of the loved Felix were not for me. Miserable, unhappy wretch!

“Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the difference of sexes, and the birth and growth of children, how the father doted on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the older child, how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapped up in the precious charge, how the mind of youth expanded and gained knowledge, of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which bind one human being to another in mutual bonds.

“But where were my friends and relations? No father had watched my infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I distinguished nothing. From my earliest remembrance I had been as I then was in height and proportion. I had never yet seen a being resembling me or who claimed any intercourse with me. What was I? The question again recurred, to be answered only with groans.

Discussion
Geeta did not feel saddened as Devika and Shoba did. It is another take on life, and quite thought-provoking. Priya agreed it was a deep novel raising fundamental issues, relevant even today, mutatis mutandis.


Priya:

Ch 15 – Frankenstein’s creature is educating himself by reading books. He provides notes on two books, Sorrows of Werter and Plutarch’s Lives  
1.
“One night during my accustomed visit to the neighbouring wood where I collected my own food and brought home firing for my protectors, I found on the ground a leathern portmanteau containing several articles of dress and some books. I eagerly seized the prize and returned with it to my hovel. Fortunately the books were written in the language, the elements of which I had acquired at the cottage; they consisted of Paradise Lost, a volume of Plutarch’s Lives, and the Sorrows of Werter. The possession of these treasures gave me extreme delight; I now continually studied and exercised my mind upon these histories, whilst my friends were employed in their ordinary occupations.

“I can hardly describe to you the effect of these books. They produced in me an infinity of new images and feelings, that sometimes raised me to ecstasy, but more frequently sunk me into the lowest dejection. In the Sorrows of Werter, besides the interest of its simple and affecting story, so many opinions are canvassed and so many lights thrown upon what had hitherto been to me obscure subjects that I found in it a never-ending source of speculation and astonishment.

2.
Fortunately the books were written in the language, the elements of which I had acquired at the cottage; they consisted of Paradise Lost, a volume of Plutarch’s Lives, and the Sorrows of Werter. The possession of these treasures gave me extreme delight; I now continually studied and exercised my mind upon these histories, whilst my friends were employed in their ordinary occupations.

“I can hardly describe to you the effect of these books. They produced in me an infinity of new images and feelings, that sometimes raised me to ecstasy, but more frequently sunk me into the lowest dejection. In the Sorrows of Werter, besides the interest of its simple and affecting story, so many opinions are canvassed and so many lights thrown upon what had hitherto been to me obscure subjects that I found in it a never-ending source of speculation and astonishment. The gentle and domestic manners it described, combined with lofty sentiments and feelings, which had for their object something out of self, accorded well with my experience among my protectors and with the wants which were for ever alive in my own bosom. But I thought Werter himself a more divine being than I had ever beheld or imagined; his character contained no pretension, but it sank deep. The disquisitions upon death and suicide were calculated to fill me with wonder. I did not pretend to enter into the merits of the case, yet I inclined towards the opinions of the hero, whose extinction I wept, without precisely understanding it.

“As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings and condition. I found myself similar yet at the same time strangely unlike to the beings concerning whom I read and to whose conversation I was a listener. I sympathised with and partly understood them, but I was unformed in mind; I was dependent on none and related to none. ‘The path of my departure was free,’ and there was none to lament my annihilation. My person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to solve them.

“The volume of Plutarch’s Lives which I possessed contained the histories of the first founders of the ancient republics. This book had a far different effect upon me from the Sorrows of Werter. I learned from Werter’s imaginations despondency and gloom, but Plutarch taught me high thoughts; he elevated me above the wretched sphere of my own reflections, to admire and love the heroes of past ages.

Commentary:
Science is dangerously overtaking human life, with humanoids replacing the physical human being. The current Covid-19 pandemic is a global assault on human survival. Victor Frankenstein seems to be the spiritual father of the trend. One unconfirmed rumour alleges that the novel coronavirus was artificially created in a virology lab in the city of Wuhan in China. Isn’t this analogous to the nameless monster created by Frankenstein that ended up taking revenge on his family and friends?

Read in the current context, the novel becomes more relevant than before. We are once again at the crossroads, questioning humankind’s dreams of playing God. The debate on ethics and genetically created designer babies is unsettled. If only the monster was Dolly the sheep, a mere clone of another adult sheep and no more, there would be no problem. 

But in the 19th century the idea of a human being created out of inanimate matter was revolutionary, and contrary to Louis Pasteur’s experimental discovery that life cannot be spontaneously generated from non-living matter. The Romantic period was one when scientific revolution had already taken hold, alongside the poetic and literary ferment. Ideas were being floated by writers and poets like gushes of fresh breeze. It was in accord with the tenor of the times that Mary Shelley should pen such a remarkable work. 

One may imagine the young girl, hiding behind the sofa in her father’s living room, and consider what she must have felt when she heard Samuel Taylor Coleridge recite The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Her parents were literary and liberal – William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft. Mary Shelley was among the avant-garde, developing ideas ahead of her time, encouraged by the Percy Bysshe Shelley, the already famous poet whom she married, and Lord Byron. There was a ghost story writing competition between these three and John Polidori another guest, when they were together on holiday in Switzerland. A horror dream inspired the story. The other literary fall-out was The Vampyre, the first modern vampire story, authored by John Polidori.

Frankenstein; or The Modern Prometheus (1818) is a seminal novel in English literature, occupying a leading position as the first novel in the science fiction genre. 

The tale incorporates many themes but the key subject is man’s overweening ambition to play God. Victor Frankenstein, the protagonist is driven by an extreme scientific ambition to create a human. That prevents him from making rational judgments as he experiments with chemistry and uses stolen body parts and chemical reagents, to create an ugly eight-foot tall monster with superhuman powers. Frankenstein alienates himself from his devoted family and friends. Once he realises the destructive potential of his creation for the world, if he ever let the creature procreate through a female companion, he takes steps to destroy it. The conflict leads to Frankenstein losing his family and friends in a series of gory killings. Finally, in a dramatic chase across the icy Arctic Frankenstein finds a ship stuck in frozen waters and boards it; the monster escapes. 

The captain of the ship who had a burning ambition to discover a sea passage across the Arctic withdraws from his project on hearing Victor’s final words before dying: “Seek happiness in tranquillity and avoid ambition.”

Discussion
Priya had several observations to make regarding the novel. The creature teaches himself. He discovers liberal lines of thought. The language may be a little dated, but Mary Shelley knows how to tell a gripping story. Priya loved her language and thirst for knowledge, which is equally manifested in the creature. Joe estimated the creature to have a fantastic IQ. Geetha later entered the discussion and agreed with Joe that Frankenstein lacked responsible ownership of his creation. The creature possessed a sensitivity far beyond its make up.

If you consider all the learning and mastery the creature attains from observation and reading a mere three books, with no tutoring beyond what the blind old man gave him, one is forced to put him on the super-intelligent and highly gifted level. Not only in IQ but in EQ (Emotional Quotient), surpassing the standard of most people who may be called sensitive. 

The creature understands very well he is a victim of severe discrimination, just for the way he looks. And the ONLY person who treats him well is blind!

Gopa wondered if there is a moral in this, namely, that a blind person is able to judge without discrimination? Joe’s response was: we should all say a prayer: Lord, strike me blind if ever I pass judgment on a person based on looks. Or better, infuse such love that I am made blind. 

Later Joe added a caveat: I’ll ask the Lord to make an exception for Sophia Loren ...

Kavita 
Ch 15 The monster’s notes on his reading of the third book, Paradise Lost. Reflecting on his own creation, he reads the diary of his creator Victor Frankenstein, expressing disgust upon making  such a hideous and loathsome creature.
“But Paradise Lost excited different and far deeper emotions. I read it, as I had read the other volumes which had fallen into my hands, as a true history. It moved every feeling of wonder and awe that the picture of an omnipotent God warring with his creatures was capable of exciting. I often referred the several situations, as their similarity struck me, to my own. Like Adam, I was apparently united by no link to any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine in every other respect. He had come forth from the hands of God a perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of his Creator; he was allowed to converse with and acquire knowledge from beings of a superior nature, but I was wretched, helpless, and alone. Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition, for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me.

“Another circumstance strengthened and confirmed these feelings. Soon after my arrival in the hovel I discovered some papers in the pocket of the dress which I had taken from your laboratory. At first I had neglected them, but now that I was able to decipher the characters in which they were written, I began to study them with diligence. It was your journal of the four months that preceded my creation. You minutely described in these papers every step you took in the progress of your work; this history was mingled with accounts of domestic occurrences. You doubtless recollect these papers. Here they are. Everything is related in them which bears reference to my accursed origin; the whole detail of that series of disgusting circumstances which produced it is set in view; the minutest description of my odious and loathsome person is given, in language which painted your own horrors and rendered mine indelible. I sickened as I read. ‘Hateful day when I received life!’ I exclaimed in agony. ‘Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred.

Discussion
Geeta said the misery in the book made her realise that this is what is happening in the world: severe discrimination of all kinds where people go hungry and their livelihoods are destroyed by lockdowns, where African-Americans are brutally killed by police in the open (George Floyd in Minneapolis), and so on.

Priya opined that some may be born with criminal thinking and tendencies. But is this the case with the creature Frankenstein constructed? Not on the evidence. Parenting, education, and leadership in the community makes a lot of difference to the way one grows up. One may even overcome the bigotry that was around you while growing up and take charge of one’s own life and thinking. Priya taking off on something Joe had written (see below) said  those who developed the A-bomb and H-bomb were unhappy with the consequences.

Joe pointed out that in modern medical and biological sciences any research that involves human subjects or experimentation on humans, has to abide by stringent rules and ethical standards, and cannot be undertaken without peer review. 

Joe:

Ch 17 – The monster demands that Victor Frankenstein make a companion for him of  the other sex as hideous as himself, who will not scorn him.
“You must create a female for me with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being. This you alone can do, and I demand it of you as a right which you must not refuse to concede.”

The latter part of his tale had kindled anew in me the anger that had died away while he narrated his peaceful life among the cottagers, and as he said this I could no longer suppress the rage that burned within me.

“I do refuse it,” I replied; “and no torture shall ever extort a consent from me. You may render me the most miserable of men, but you shall never make me base in my own eyes. Shall I create another like yourself, whose joint wickedness might desolate the world. Begone! I have answered you; you may torture me, but I will never consent.”

“You are in the wrong,” replied the fiend; “and instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would not call it murder if you could precipitate me into one of those ice-rifts and destroy my frame, the work of your own hands. Shall I respect man when he condemns me? Let him live with me in the interchange of kindness, and instead of injury I would bestow every benefit upon him with tears of gratitude at his acceptance. But that cannot be; the human senses are insurmountable barriers to our union. Yet mine shall not be the submission of abject slavery. I will revenge my injuries; if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly towards you my arch-enemy, because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care; I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth.”

A fiendish rage animated him as he said this; his face was wrinkled into contortions too horrible for human eyes to behold; but presently he calmed himself and proceeded—

“I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me, for you do not reflect that you are the cause of its excess. If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundredfold; for that one creature’s sake I would make peace with the whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be realised. What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate; I demand a creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself; the gratification is small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me. It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another. Our lives will not be happy, but they will be harmless and free from the misery I now feel. Oh! My creator, make me happy; let me feel gratitude towards you for one benefit! Let me see that I excite the sympathy of some existing thing; do not deny me my request!”

I was moved. I shuddered when I thought of the possible consequences of my consent, but I felt that there was some justice in his argument.

Commentary:
In the passage the creature makes a reasonable case for a companion to be built so he can live with a partner, segregated from humankind who despise him. “Let [humans] live with me in the interchange of kindness, and instead of injury, I would bestow every benefit upon [them] with tears of gratitude at [their] acceptance.” Frankenstein is at first moved by the creature’s desire for companionship. But in the end he changes his opinion.

It is an allegory of how humans can create something whose consequences spin out of their control, and they come to disdain the very thing they spent so much intellect and effort to create. The atom bomb, is one such invention which caused grief to Robert Oppenheimer, the physicist who headed the wartime effort in America to make the bomb. Andrei Sakharov is considered the genius behind the unique Soviet design of the hydrogen bomb, but the  physicist came to regret it so much that he and his wife,  Yelena Bonner, became dissidents and ardent peace activists during their latter life.

Another anomalous fact is that the creator describes his creation from the very beginning in extremely pejorative terms, such as fiend (41 times), monster (39  times), and dæmon (20 times). Occasionally, the neutral term creature is used.

Another matter is the difference between the 1831 edition which we are reading, and the first edition in 1818. Mary Shelley who is recognised as a feminist in the tradition of her mother Mary Wollstonecraft (author of  A Vindication of the Rights of Woman in 1792), toned down some of her humanistic and feminist stances in the 1818 edition. For instance, when Justine, the servant, is wrongly coerced into confessing to the murder of her ward William Frankenstein, she is condemned to execution. In the 1818 edition capital punishment is deplored as inhumane:
Oh! how I hate its shews [sic] and mockeries! when one creature is murdered, another is immediately deprived of life in a slow torturing manner; then the executioners, their hands yet reeking with the blood of innocence, believe they have done a great deed. 
Continuing, Justine asserts a resentment of patriarchal men in the 1818 edition:
I would I were in peace with my aunt and my lovely William, escaped from a world which is hateful to me, and the visages of men which I abhor.

Both of these stances were modified in the 1831 edition. In the first instance the servant girl says “Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to the will of heaven!” In other words, learn to bear capital punishment.

The second passage is excised altogether. Hence, no pushback to male patriarchy. 

Whatever the explanation for Mary Shelley softening her radical stance, part of it would have been to incorporate the negative feedback she got from reviewers and the public about the first 1818 edition. The 1831 edition went on to sell in thousands of copies, far more than the 500 copies printed of the first edition in 1818.

KumKum:
Chapter 20 
Victor Frankenstein has second thoughts about creating a mate for the creature, who might perpetuate an abhorrent race which will be foisted on future generations.  (621 words)
I sat one evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labour for the night or hasten its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to me which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner and had created a fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it for ever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times more malignant than her mate and delight, for its own sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species.

Even if they were to leave Europe and inhabit the deserts of the new world, yet one of the first results of those sympathies for which the dæmon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations? I had before been moved by the sophisms of the being I had created; I had been struck senseless by his fiendish threats; but now, for the first time, the wickedness of my promise burst upon me; I shuddered to think that future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness had not hesitated to buy its own peace at the price, perhaps, of the existence of the whole human race.
I trembled and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by the light of the moon the dæmon at the casement. A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had followed me in my travels; he had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken refuge in wide and desert heaths; and he now came to mark my progress and claim the fulfilment of my promise.

As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged. The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and revenge, withdrew.

I left the room, and locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own heart never to resume my labours; and then, with trembling steps, I sought my own apartment. I was alone; none were near me to dissipate the gloom and relieve me from the sickening oppression of the most terrible reveries.

Commentary:
Though I do not recall reading this book, I have been familiar with the story for a long time. Perhaps I saw a movie version of it, or I may have read an abridged edition. Thanks to the KRG selectors, I got an opportunity to read Mary Shelley's unabridged original book, more than 200 years after the book was first published in 1818.

I knew of Mary Shelley because of her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley, a major voice of the English Romantic movement in literature. She too became an important participant in that movement, after eloping with the poet, and realising she shared the values of this group whole heartedly. 
Mary was not conventionally educated at an institution; she was home-schooled and later, mostly self-taught. She was an extremely intelligent person, and famous persons, like Byron, Shelley, Keats, Tennyson, and Coleridge, did not awe her. She wrote the first version of Frankenstein in response to a challenge thrown up by Byron to his vacationing friends in Geneva.

This book is now considered the first novel in the genre of Science Fiction. Two hundred years ago, if an author could so plausibly imagine creating a human in a scientist’s lab, she deserves accolades.

Mary Shelley skilfully combined two other genres of writings in her time, Gothic and Romantic, into her novel. 


Frankenstein's monster on the construction table – Illustration by Henning Wagenbreth from The New Yorker

Gothic novels focus on the mysterious and supernatural. In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley sets up the  mysterious circumstances in which Victor Frankenstein collected dead bodies to fulfil his obsession of creating life out of inanimate matter. His labs were in a ramshackle place, away from habitation. Just as in Gothic novels, his monster could traverse the natural world at supernatural speed, following Victor wherever he went. Victor finally chased the creature down to the North Pole. 

“Romantic writers are concerned with nature, human feelings, compassion for mankind, freedom of the individual and rebellion against Society.” Mary Shelley believed in all that. Though Frankenstein belongs to Science Fiction, she did not neglect the beauty of nature. There are so many passages in the book, when she diverts the reader’s attention to Nature, its beauty, mystery, and menace. 

How well she threads the lines from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge into her novel in order to reflect the precise mood of Victor Frankenstein in Ch 5, as he flees from the horror of what he has done when the reality strikes him:
Like one who, on a lonely road,
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread
.

Discussion
The scientist in Frankenstein was motivated by a laudable quest to create life and may have taken the right steps, but there was no Plan B for failure, or worse, the attempt going badly wrong – which was what happened. It ended up as a revenge killing and pursuit across continents:

Travels by the Creature, Walton and Frankenstein
(click to enlarge)

One may wonder how could the creator kill his creation? Fair portion of blame must be attached to Frankenstein for the negative behaviour of his creature.

Gopa:

Ch 24 – Frankenstein’s creature says his farewell, spurned by his creator while he desired only love and fellowship.
There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the imagination of it was conceived and long for the moment when these hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts no more.

“Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work is nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man’s death is needed to consummate the series of my being and accomplish that which must be done, but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice raft which brought me thither and shall seek the most northern extremity of the globe; I shall collect my funeral pile and consume to ashes this miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious and unhallowed wretch who would create such another as I have been. I shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me or be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who called me into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars or feel the winds play on my cheeks. Light, feeling, and sense will pass away; and in this condition must I find my happiness. Some years ago, when the images which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt the cheering warmth of summer and heard the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept to die; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?

“Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of humankind whom these eyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be better satiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thou didst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness; and if yet, in some mode unknown to me, thou hadst not ceased to think and feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater than that which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to thine, for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my wounds until death shall close them for ever.

“But soon,” he cried with sad and solemn enthusiasm, “I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will fade away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit will sleep in peace, or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.”

He sprang from the cabin-window as he said this, upon the ice raft which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance

Discussion
Gopa said there are portions where you feel sad – a great deal of sorrow exists in life. The novel records a noble attempt find the secret of life, and resembles the parallel quest today to find a way of overcoming death using science. Though the latter idea is appealing to many, and certainly attractive at first blush, many have reservations to the indefinite prolonging of life, even if it were comfortable.

Priya reiterated  the classification of this as an ‘epistolary novel’ and gave the example of author Shobhaa Dé, the Mumbai celebrity, who wrote a novel called Speedpost: Letters to My Children about Living, Loving, Caring and Coping with the World in this vein.

Pamela
Since Hemjit, along with Pamela and Gopa, were the selectors of this novel, Pamela spoke these words in remembrance of him.

“Hemjit will always remain a part of KRG. His most striking characteristic was his pleasant disposition and positive attitude, inspite of all the health issues he faced. Whenever we spoke to inquire about his ailment, he would always assure us that he would be fine and make it back for the next KRG meeting.

We truly admire him for the strength and courage with which he faced his challenges. His calm fortitude during adversity is worthy of emulation. 

He always had a kind word for everyone. I had the good fortune of being  his team member twice in the selection of books for reading at KRG. We had very informative and healthy discussions. He was a good listener and would express his well-considered opinions gently.

He was blessed with a wonderful wife in Sugandhi and had affectionate siblings. He was happy because of these loving people around him.

May his soul rest in peace.”


2 comments:

  1. It was a delightful book to read. One of the books I wished to read for a long long time. Thanks to Gopa, Pamela and, now deceased, Hemjith we got this book in our selection for the year 2020.
    As one can see, everyone enjoyed the book, and had so much to say about it. Thank you Joe, for your excellent blog on our May 29 Session.

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  2. > It was a delightful book to read. Mary Shelley did spin a good yarn, and as with any fantasy you have to suspend your belief at several points. Science was not her strong suit, imagination was, and she has exploited that and her writing skills to convey a gripping story. She demonstrates the skill of an author in her sympathetic treatment of the creature, showing its self-awareness, how others treat it, and how the blind man treats it. As with Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, the most moving arguments are given to the villain of the piece.
    Being the wife of Percy Shelley, the poet, she will be unfavourably compared to him in her prose. Take a read of Shelley's essay (only 12K words) In Defence of Poetryhttps://www.gutenberg.org/files/5428/5428-h/5428-h.htm

    Go directly to the last essay. What a sublime read! He is capable not only of thinking on a high plane, but he elevates his style in keeping with his thoughts. The concluding words are famous: Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

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