My Thoughts on Frankenstein: Monstrous Irony

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a story that challenges the belief of inherent goodness or wickedness. Though originally viewed skeptically with much disdain, and at first overlooked by many as mere, unimportant horror entertainment, this novel is now a praised classic, and has fascinated many readers since its release in 1818 (Telgen 180). Shelley’s novel contains countless themes, one of them being the theme of monstrosity verses gentility, and the skewed perceptions of each. Fundamental to Shelley’s novel and themes, and to the two main characters, Frankenstein and the creature, are “the stories of their intellectual and emotional development” throughout their lives (Evans and Onorato 139). By taking the reader through the creature’s life—through his creation, his rejection, his development of personality and feelings, his betrayal, and his resultant vengeance and violence; and by intertwining the creature’s journey with that of his creator’s journey, Shelley reveals the devastating emotional effects and consequences that rejection and betrayal can bring forth, for both the betrayed as well as the betrayer, and that true monstrosity does not always come in the form of a monster.

The character Victor Frankenstein, the scientist who eventually creates the “monster,” greatly contributes to the monstrous irony in this novel. Victor is miserable throughout the novel; in his first appearance[,] Victor is “a disheveled, exhausted, ill man” (Nardo 82). Yet there seems to be a kind of charm in him that makes him likable. This is evident in Walton’s description of him: “I never saw a more interesting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of wildness, and even madness; but there are moments when…his whole countenance is lighted up…with a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equaled” (Shelley 14). From boyhood, Victor is intrigued by science and attends a university to further his knowledge—which leads to his revelation on how to create life, his thirst for creating life, his extensive experimentation, and eventually, his success in bringing his creature to life. After creating this hideous-looking being, Victor runs away in fear and abandonment of his creation. However, upon the murder of his younger brother, Victor’s thoughts are turned toward his creation, and he searches for the “monster.” Without sufficient reason, Victor blames his creation for his brother’s death, thus, blaming himself, and he swells with feelings of guilt, hate, and duty to avenge the dead and protect the living, all the while refusing to offer his creation friendship or paternal companionship. Victor devotes his whole life to finding and destroying his creation, embarking on a feat that will send him to his doom.

The other character in Frankenstein that is so integral to Shelley’s monstrous irony is the creature, the creation of Victor. The creature’s inner being is wholly human—he is compassionate, kind, and gentle, and longs for companionship. He has complete human conscience and coherence with the ability to learn extensively as he teaches himself how to understand language, speak, read, and write. In addition to all this, the creature is eloquent: “from his first words [with Victor], he shows himself to be a supreme rhetorician of his own situation, one who controls the antitheses and oxymorons that express the pathos of his existence” (Bloom 102). Though his interior is full of beauty, this creature’s exterior is indeed atrocious, frightening all who behold him, driving him into isolation, misery, and loneliness: “Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded” (Shelley 66). The creature’s kindness is evident in his gentility towards the cottagers he observes, unseen from his hovel, and he longs to interact with them as part of the family—he falls in love with them: “The gentle manners and beauty of the cottagers greatly endeared them to me; when they were unhappy, I felt depressed; when they rejoiced, I sympathized with their joys” (Shelley 75). However, upon his greatly anticipated introduction to them, the cottagers are frightened by the creature’s appearance and move away from him, after initially trying to hurt him. This pitiful situation that the “monster” finds himself in evokes strong feelings of commiseration and sorrow, both in the creature as well as in the reader. This rejection and sorrow cause the creature to abhor his hideousness and send him in search of his creator—the only one who can offer friendship and/or paternal companionship in himself, or can create another being as atrocious in appearance as him to be his companion. When Victor denies the creature these emotional needs, the “monster” is driven to violence and revenge toward his creator; and so begins both the creature’s and Victor’s journeys toward their miserable ends.

The situations and responsibilities in this creator and creation relationship are quite parallel to that of father and son, or God and Adam. Even the creature notices this correspondence and brings it to his maker’s attention: “Remember, that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam; but rather I am the fallen angel that thou drivest from joy for no misdeed” (Shelley 66). The creature longs for Victor’s affection, and “like a newborn baby reaching out to his mother, the creature reaches out to Victor” (Telgen 185). Yet Victor, from the very beginning, relinquishes all responsibility of [for] his creation, his son, his Adam, leaving the childlike being to fend for himself—to protect, to shelter, to feed, to comfort, and to teach himself alone. Some argue that Victor “followed a predisposition of human nature—visceral disgust at the monster’s appearance,” thus, not undertaking the duty of a parent or creator; “to teach his own charge and to educate others in acceptance” (Gould 6). But to abandon his very own creation for “no misdeed” defies the reason of the inborn “nature” to fear. Victor could have “raised” his creation, his son—“he could have introduced his benevolent and educated monster to people prepared to judge him on merit” (Gould 6). But Victor ran away. With great accomplishments come great responsibilities, and Victor fails. As a scientist, a parent, a creator, and a compassionate human being—Victor fails.

Throughout their journeys, Victor and the creature become increasingly alike. Though both begin with good intentions, each eventually declares mutual rejection and vengeance upon the other, “loathing the mere existence of the other” (Coleman 22). As a child, Victor enjoys the company of his family, Elizabeth and Henry. However, due to his growing obsession with science and creating life, he becomes isolated, just as the creature becomes isolated. Victor refuses to offer the creature friendship, making the creature friendless, as the creature murders all of Victor’s friends, making Victor friendless as well. Shelley’s humanizing the monster, and demonizing its creator, is “soundly assisted by paralleling their emotional experiences” (Coleman 23). As a result of their endeavors to bring vengeance upon the other, both Victor and the Creature eventually lead themselves to their own deaths. In misery and loneliness, they die in the same state—tired, weak, unhappy, friendless, and faint of heart.

Because both Victor and the creature feel he is the victim of the other, and each declares vengeance on the other, committing atrocious deeds ranging from neglect to murder, a question is raised—who is the real monster, and who is the victim? The creature carries out the many murders, and he is indeed guilty of his own actions. On the other hand, Victor is responsible for the very existence of the creature, and it is Victor’s rejection, betrayal, and denying of love and companionship that drive the creature to carrying out these deeds. The creature, through betrayal by all humans and especially his maker, is forever barred from the enjoyment of feelings and passions of love, beauty, and happiness, causing impotent envy and bitter indignation to fill him with an insatiable thirst for vengeance (Shelley 153). As the creature looks upon Victor’s lifeless body, he reveals his feelings about his murderous actions—they are not that of victory, but of sorrow: “My heart was poisoned with remorse…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 the change without torture… [I was] heart-broken and overcome…my pity amounted to horror: I abhorred myself” (Shelley 153). Victor, as gentle as he may seem, is responsible for his creation, and for neglecting him, and continually pushes the creature into further despair by continual rejection and refusal of forgiveness. Though each are equally responsible for the murders, and each could have, by force of will, prevented or stopped them at any point, Victor is further and solely responsible for denying his creation the human needs and longings that he gave him—driving the creature to these horrid deeds. Victor created the creature, his Adam, with abilities and longings for happiness, acceptance, fellowship, camaraderie, and especially, love, and then monstrously denied the creature these things. The creature is a victim of Victor Frankenstein.

In the end, the “monster” reveals that he has not gone completely wicked, and that his violent revenge had been done with great torment—upon himself. He chooses to die “unsatisfied [and] unquenched” (Shelley 115). Shelley intends for the reader to sympathize with the “monster” who experiences very human emotions, but whose gruesome appearance causes him to endure reproach by all who behold him, which causes those very human needs and longings to be denied him. Though the reader strongly disapproves of the creature’s actions of violence and revenge, this somehow brings him/her back to feelings of sorrow and pity for the creature, yet satisfaction in his soon-to-come death and escape from the tortures of his “unsatisfied” and “unquenched” life—which is what Shelley intended.

Through humanizing the monster and demonizing the creator, Shelley reveals the irony and distortion that occur when many view and judge “monsters”—she shows the reader that some monsters may be gentle, while others may come in disguise. Shelley wrote a “moral tale…about responsibility to all creatures of feeling and to the products of one’s own hand. The monster’s misery arose from the moral failure of other humans, not from his own inherent and unchangeable constitution” (Gould 7). Shelley portrays countless themes and lessons to readers through her novel, and the messages of Frankenstein are much deeper than mere entertainment. Shelley reveals the innate need for companionship and love, and that genuine kindness and gentility can be skewed into vengeance and violence due to society’s detestation. She portrays the devastating effects that parental/creator abandonment can cause. Shelley also shows that inner beauty and outward appearance are not related, and that the consequences of judging, rejecting, and denying others of love and happiness based on outward appearance can be disastrous. By portraying the changes that both Frankenstein and the creature undergo throughout their journeys—Frankenstein from happiness and camaraderie to obsession, fear, loss, and vengeance, and the creature from gentility and kindness to vengeance and violence as a result of society’s, and especially Frankenstein’s treatment toward him—Shelley reveals the devastating effects and regrets that monstrosity—betrayal, abhorrence, and isolation of innocent creatures, undeserving of such detestation—bring forth.