Frankenstein and the figure of the ‘scientist’.

 

Since its release in 1818, Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein has attracted quite a lot of attention. The story of a somewhat mad ‘scientist’ who creates a creature and is subsequently haunted by said creature has since terrified and delighted many readers. The novel has also raised quite a few questions, among which the central question of this work: Does Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein attack or celebrate the figure of the ‘scientist’? The thesis statement argued in this work is that Frankenstein serves as a cautionary tale or myth against mad scientists who cross boundaries which should never be crossed.

            In most academic literature, there seems to be a consensus agreeing with the above mentioned thesis statement. The novel contains a warning for any and all who are interested in the pursuit of science: just because a new advancement is scientifically possible, does this also mean this advancement should be made? In the case of the creature, Victor Frankenstein might have been better off if he had left his obsession in Ingolstadt and went back home to Geneva. Of course there are also works which do not consider Frankenstein to be a cautionary tale. These interpretations differ from the other interpretation in one basic premise: in these interpretations the creature is considered to be human. This also applies to Lisa Nock’s article.[1] These interpretations appear to be in sharp contrast to Mary Shelley’s own ideas about the creature, as can be observed in the language of both her introduction to the 1831 edition as well as the story itself. In the introduction she describes the moment when the story of Frankenstein and the creature first came to her, in a waking dream. She writes: “I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out..”.[2] Thus she describes the creature as a phantasm, an illusory likeness of something, in this case, a human being.[3] The next important clue about the creature’s nature can be found in chapter 4 of Frankenstein. In this chapter, Victor describes the process by which he animated the creature. It begins with a realisation that: “A new species would bless me as its creator and source, many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me”.[4] The creature would be the first of an entirely new species, created by the mind of Victor Frankenstein alone. Yet for all the work he invests in creating this creature, the amount of time he spends alone in his laboratory, obsessed with this process and finding the secret of life, he never once considers this creature to be human. The creature is denied the quality of humanity, as well as the most basic human right: the right of a name. Another argument against considering the creature to be human is the fact that he himself doesn’t consider himself to be human.[5] He considers himself to be of a different species, and expresses this belief in his request to Frankenstein for a companion.[6]

            From the moment Victor Frankenstein enters the narrative, it is clear that his life has taken quite a toll on his countenance. He is sick and his frame is described to be ‘decaying’.[7] When he learns of Robert Walton’s ambitions, he decides to tell his story, to caution Walton from following his ambitions blindly.[8] This blind ambition was perhaps Frankenstein’s greatest flaw, and the aspect of the story which contains Mary Shelley’s greatest warning. While studying death, life and the decay and corruption of the human frame, Frankenstein suddenly has an epiphany. He finds an undisclosed way to possibly reach the knowledge of animating dead cratures, and wonders why  other great men before him have not reached this secret.[9] He doubts at first whether he should attempt to create an “animal as complex and wonderful as man”, but his earlier success at the university of Ingolstadt has made him a bit too arrogant to doubt that he could, and he never stops to ask if he should. And so he begins quite hopeful, dreaming of a new species which will consider him father. As the work continues though, the language becomes more negative when describing the process of creating the creature. At first he describes successfully collecting and arranging his materials, while later on he refers to the horrors of his secret toil as he “dabbled away among the unhallowed damps of the grave or tortured living animals to animate lifeless clay”.[10] Frankenstein clearly loses track of what is right and what is wrong while he is attempting to create his creature. He collects bones with “profane fingers” from charnel houses and with “profane fingers” disturbs the “tremendous secret of the human frame”. His workplace is completely separated from other parts of his house, and his materials have been furnished by dissection rooms and slaughter houses. Near the completion of the process, his human form often turns with loathing from his unholy occupation. In hindsight, Frankenstein himself agrees that his study was an unlawful one: “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.”[11] While Victor is working on his unholy creature, he is obsessed with it. He is driven by an “almost supernatural enthusiasm”.[12] He loses all touch with reality and is left in a quite poor state of health. Once the process is finally complete, Victor never feels any sense of pride for what he has accomplished, only fear and terror. Mary Shelley writes in the introduction: “Frightful it must be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of this world”.[13] It is clear that these kinds of endeavours are considered to be crossing a line which should never be crossed. Although the creature is a product of nature – his ‘ingredients’ are chosen for their beauty and strength – by the unholy process and simple fact of his creation he has become an abomination, an unnatural being.[14]

            Lastly there is the second title of the novel: The Modern Prometheus. This is another strong indication for Mary Shelley’s cautionary intentions. Prometheus was a Greek God who created humankind from clay. Athena subsequently breathed life into his new creations. Prometheus loved his creations more than his fellow Olympians, and at the end of this Greek creation myth, Prometheus is always the one who is punished by Zeus. [15] In the eighteenth century, Prometheus can also be interpreted as a modern myth in the spirit of natural philosophy, especially chemistry. These scientists wished to fulfil the ancient alchemists dream: discovering the elixir of life.[16] Frankenstein achieves this ancient goal, and undergoes the same fate as Prometheus.[17] He toils in his unholy laboratory for at least a year and a half, and when the process is complete, he fails his creation entirely. As a consequence, the creature vows to be Frankenstein’s eternal tormentor, punishing him for his failure for the rest of his life.[18]

            In conclusion: Mary Shelley clearly intended with Frankenstein to create a cautionary tale to warn scientists from any unlawful endeavours. These endeavours can create more sorrow and pain than ever expected, and as argued above, there are many elements in the novel from this can be derived. The novel Frankenstein attacks the figure of the ‘scientist’ because certain paths of scientific enquiry should never be followed. Frankenstein followed his ungodly idea of animating his creature, and had to pay a terrible price for his scientific advancement. Things might have gone differently, and Frankenstein could also have been a happy story, where Victor Frankenstein and his creature grew old together and made a whole different life, but this is not the choice Mary Shelley made. She chose to write this story, to caution scientists from not making Victor’s mistakes.


 

Bibliography

 

Back, Kurt W., ‘Frankenstein and Brave New World: Two Cautionary Myths on the Boundaries of Science’, History of European Ideas 20 (1995) 327-332.

 

Brooks, Peter, ‘Godlike Science/Unhallowed Arts: Language and Monstrosity in Frankenstein’, New Literary History 9.3 (1978) 591-605.

 

Dictionary.com, ‘Phantasm’: https://www.dictionary.com/browse/phantasm (13-05-2017).

 

Dussinger, John A., ‘Kinship and Guilt in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein’, Studies in the Novel 8.1 (1976) 38-55.

 

Megas, Charilaos & Michael Karas, ‘Creation of Man by Prometheus’: https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/The_Myths/Creation_of_Man_by_Prometheus/creation_of_man_by_prometheus.html (13-05-2017).

 

Nocks, Lisa, ‘Frankenstein, in a better light’, Journal of Social and Evolutionary Systems 20.2 (1997) 137-155.

 

Reese, Diana, ‘A Troubled Legacy: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the Inheritance of Human Rights’, Representations 96.1 (2006) 48-72.

 

Shelley, Mary, Frankenstein (London, 2013).

 

 

 

 

 



[1] Lisa Nocks, ‘Frankenstein, in a better light’, Journal of Social and Evolutionary Systems 20.2 (1997) 137-155.

[2] Mary Shelley, Frankenstein (London, 2013), 9.

[3] Dictionary.com, ‘Phantasm’: https://www.dictionary.com/browse/phantasm (13-05-2017).

[4] Shelley, Frankenstein, 55.

[5] Diana Reese, ‘A Troubled Legacy: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the Inheritance of Human Rights’, Representations 96.1 (2006) 48-72, 50.

[6] Shelley, Frankenstein, 146.

[7] Ibidem, 28.

[8] Ibidem, 29.

[9] Ibidem, 53.

[10] Ibidem, 55.

[11] Ibidem, 56.

[12] Ibidem, 52.

[13] Ibidem, 9.

[14] Peter Brooks, ‘Godlike Science/Unhallowed Arts: Language and Monstrosity in Frankenstein’, New Literary History 9.3 (1978) 591-605, 600.

[15] Charilaos Megas & Michael Karas, ‘Creation of Man by Prometheus’: https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/The_Myths/Creation_of_Man_by_Prometheus/creation_of_man_by_prometheus.html (13-05-2017).

[16] John A. Dussinger, ‘Kinship and Guilt in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein’, Studies in the Novel 8.1 (1976) 38-55, 40.

[17] Kurt W. Back, ‘Frankenstein and Brave New World: Two Cautionary Myths on the Boundaries of Science’, History of European Ideas 20 (1995) 327-332, 329.

[18] Shelley, Frankenstein, 172-173.