91 pages • 3 hours read
Mary ShelleyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“What may not be expected in a country of eternal light?”
Robert Walton writes that he plans to “discover a passage near the pole” that will “benefit […] all mankind” (2). His drive to visit the North Pole is inspired by a lifelong love of knowledge and by a desire for glory. In Frankenstein, light and fire represent knowledge. Walton’s eagerness to go where “the sun is forever visible” illustrates his desire for seemingly unreachable knowledge (1). It is significant that the light is “eternal” because the novel examines the pitfalls of uninhibited ambition and limitless knowledge.
“The saintly soul of Elizabeth shone like a shrine-dedicated lamp in our peaceful home. Her sympathy was ours; her smile, her soft voice, the sweet glance of her celestial eyes, were ever there to bless and animate us.”
Frankenstein describes his idyllic childhood, particularly the time spent with Henry Clerval and Elizabeth, who are constantly described as ideal. Clerval is “noble spirit” whose form is “divinely wrought” and “beaming with beauty” (142). Elizabeth is angelic, with hair of “the brightest living gold” that appears like “a crown of distinction on her head” (20). The significance of this passage is twofold. First, Shelley uses it to establish the perfection of Frankenstein’s life, making his future losses more tragic. Second, it illustrates women’s passivity. Elizabeth’s goodness is frequently referenced in relation to the happiness she brings others. Here, she bestows love and sympathy on the Frankenstein family, gracing them with her beauty and serenity. Throughout the novel, she acquiesces to Frankenstein’s tempers and absences, demonstrating she is the ideal deferential woman.
“Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and terrible destruction.”
Frankenstein relates how philosopher Cornelius Agrippa inspired his love of science and how this path led to his destruction. A scientist’s explanation of lightning disproves Agrippa’s theories, causing Frankenstein to temporarily lay down his interest in science. Frankenstein believes this momentary pause was the work of a “guardian angel” expending a “last effort” to help him avoid destruction (27). However, in the battle of Destiny Versus Free Will, Frankenstein argues that the former was too strong and inescapable. While Frankenstein was unable to avoid his own destiny, he hopes Walton will heed his warnings and avoid meeting the same fate.
“So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein—more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.”
Frankenstein is inspired to discover how to create life by a speech given by M. Waldman, his professor. Waldman explains that natural philosophers “penetrate into the recesses of nature” (33). According to him, these philosophers “ascend into the heavens” and “have acquired new and unlimited powers” (33). Frankenstein yearns for the “glory” of discovering the secret of life. He also looks forward to a time when a “new species would bless [him] as its creator and source” (39). Frankenstein’s desires are not ordinary; he seeks to usurp nature by discovering its deepest secrets and creating life as nature does. However, Frankenstein will find that not all knowledge is meant to be acquired, developing the theme of The Dangers of Knowledge. The suffering he endures at the hands of the creature—the product of this knowledge—result in Frankenstein wishing he had accepted his place in nature rather than aspired “to become greater than his nature will allow” (38).
“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.”
As Frankenstein works on building the creature, he grows “pale with study” and “emaciated with confinement” (39). These physical transformations are accompanied by his disregard for the world around him. Though the fields are beautiful with a “plentiful harvest,” Frankenstein is “insensible to the charms of nature” (40). He also neglects his friends and family. In hindsight, Frankenstein understands that this was a sign that his work was unnatural. He warns Walton that any work that alienates one from nature is “unlawful.”
“Excellent friend! how sincerely did you love me and endeavour to elevate my mind until it was on a level with your own! A selfish pursuit had cramped and narrowed me until your gentleness and affection warmed and opened my senses; I became the same happy creature who, a few years ago, loved and beloved by all, had no sorrow or care.”
Frankenstein describes how Henry Clerval nursed him back to health following his fever and traveled with him around Ingolstadt. The sentimental tone of this passage suggests to readers that the happiness Frankenstein feels during this time will not last. Throughout his tale, Frankenstein foreshadows the miseries to come. For example, after relating the story of William’s death, Frankenstein notes, “[I]n all the misery I imagined and dreaded, I did not conceive the hundredth part of the anguish I was destined to endure” (59). This foreshadowing creates suspense. In addition to hinting at Clerval’s death, this passage adds irony to Frankenstein’s eventual abandonment of the creature. As he travels with his friend, Frankenstein enjoys the kind of company the creature cannot. Frankenstein’s happiness while the creature is miserable is the latter’s motivation for killing Frankenstein’s loved ones.
“This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I clasped my hands an exclaimed aloud, ‘William, dear angel! This is thy funeral, this thy dirge!’”
Frankenstein witnesses a lightning storm on his voyage home following William’s death. As he gazes into the sky, he imagines that the storm is heaven’s tribute to William. This passage is an example of the pathetic fallacy, a frequently used literary device in Frankenstein.
“I had begun life with benevolent intentions and thirsted for the moment when I should put them in practice and make myself useful to my fellow beings.”
After the deaths of William and Justine, for which he feels responsible, Frankenstein muses on the contrast between who he is at heart and who he has become. Though his “heart overflow[s] with kindness and the love of virtue” (74), he has caused great misery by creating the creature. This serves to illuminate the dangerous nature of knowledge. This sentiment also connects him to his creature, who experiences similar moments of introspection. After Frankenstein’s death, the creature cannot believe he is “the same creature whose thoughts were once filled with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of goodness” (204).
“The immense mountains and precipices that overhung me on every side, the sound of the river raging among the rocks, and the dashing of the waterfalls around spoke of a power mighty as Omnipotence—and I ceased to fear or to bend before any being less almighty than that which had created and rules the elements, here displayed in their most terrific guise.”
Frankenstein takes comfort in Nature as a Miraculous, Healing Force; the grandeur of nature reminds him of his smallness. In this passage, he is comforted by the fact that nature reminds him of God, a power that transcends humankind. Frankenstein, who attempted to usurp nature’s role by creating life, feels his grief soothed when he is reminded of his humility. This passage is a reminder that humans are happier when occupying their rightful place in nature. Frankenstein even believes humans would feel freer if, like “the brute,” they experienced only “hunger, thirst, and desire” (81).
“I was tempted to plunge into the silent lake, that the waters might close over me and my calamities forever.”
In this passage, Frankenstein suggests that he not only wants to be in nature but also to be consumed by it. He is devastated after the deaths of Justine and William, and while seeking solace in nature, he contemplates suicide. His theoretical method, drowning, evokes his desire to be cleansed of his sins—primarily the sin of creating the creature.
“How dare you sport thus with life?”
In this quotation, the creature draws a comparison between Frankenstein and God, arguing that Frankenstein failed as a creator. During their mountaintop conversation, he tells Frankenstein that he “ought to be [Frankenstein’s] Adam” but rather is “the fallen angel” (84). In sporting with life, Frankenstein usurped not only nature’s role but also God’s. He has not fulfilled The Duty of a Creator, and for his hubris, he suffers the consequences until his death.
“Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone?”
The creature assures Frankenstein that his heart is good and that he is only murderous because he is lonely. He promises that once he feels happiness, he will cease his violence. The creature’s claim is validated many times throughout the novel. He performs anonymous acts of kindness for the cottagers and is moved by the cottagers’ music. He is eager to learn human history and is appreciative of virtue. The creature’s goodness and subsequent crimes raise the question of Nature Versus Nurture.
“It is with considerable difficulty that I remember the original era of my being; all the events of that period appear confused and indistinct.”
The creature relates what happened to him since Frankenstein abandoned him. He opens his narrative by describing the confusing sensations he experienced upon his awakening. Much of his description is reminiscent of a child’s awakening to its environment. These memories, suggestive of a child’s first experiences, humanize the creature and foreshadow that he will be drawn to human society, civilization, and virtue. This raises the question of The Definition of Humanity, a major theme in Frankenstein.
“In my joy I thrust my hand into the live embers, but quickly drew it out again with a cry of pain. How strange, I thought, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects!”
Shortly after awakening, the creature is driven to the forest, where he comes across an abandoned fire. He is impressed by fire’s warmth, but when he touches it, he is burned. In Frankenstein, light and fire represent knowledge. Like fire, knowledge is beneficial until one is consumed by it. Both Frankenstein and the creature suffer because they acquire too much knowledge. As the creature learns more about humanity, he discovers he is alone in the world and will never find companionship in humans. This knowledge causes “agony,” and he wishes he had “forever remained in [his] native wood” (105).
“Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous and magnificent, yet so vicious and base?”
While living in the hovel, the creature watches the cottagers as Felix teaches Safie from a variety of books. As he listens to tales of human history, he is fascinated by “manners, governments, and religions of the different nations of the earth” (104). He is also interested in humans’ simultaneous virtue and viciousness: that people can embody evil as well as nobility and godliness. He learns of human evils not only from Felix’s teachings but also in his encounters with humans. Every incident of human contact shows him “the barbarity of man” (91).
“Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full of brotherly love and charity. Rely, therefore, on your hopes; and if these friends are good and amiable, do not despair.”
The creature, after much preparation, introduces himself to De Lacey, the blind patriarch of the cottagers’ family. He believes that if he can convince De Lacey he is virtuous, De Lacey will convince the other cottagers to befriend him. He expresses to De Lacey that he seeks the help of friends—not revealing he is referring to the cottagers themselves—and that he is concerned his friends will reject him. De Lacey, unable to see what the creature looks like, responds that people are good. When the creature says he has suffered from prejudice, De Lacey, an exile from his homeland, says that his family has also been “condemned, although innocent” (119). That the cottagers, like everyone else, ultimately reject the creature suggests that even those who have suffered from prejudice are not free from prejudice—and that De Lacey’s statement about people being naturally unprejudiced is false.
“There was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies? No; from that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and more than all, against him who had formed me and sent me forth to this insupportable misery.”
After the cottagers’ rejection, the creature wages war against humanity. Still, he insists that he is violent only because he is miserable and that “[i]f any being felt emotions of benevolence towards [him], [he] should return them a hundred and a hundredfold” (131). This passage reiterates that it is his misery, not his nature, that made him a monster.
“I walked about the isle like a restless spectre, separated from all it loved and miserable in the separation.”
On a remote Scottish island, Frankenstein works on the creature’s companion but destroys her before finishing. After the creature confronts him, Frankenstein walks along the shoreline, contemplating the deaths he caused and what he believes is his own imminent death at the monster’s hands. His walking like a “spectre,” or ghost, suggests that like the creature, he is not fully human. His feelings of alienation from humanity are reminiscent of the creature’s love for, but rejection by, humankind. The previous evening, the creature promised to have revenge, asking, “Are you to be happy while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness?” (152-53). The creature’s revenge, to make Frankenstein feel the same loneliness and despair he himself feels, has already begun.
“I had formed in my own heart a resolution to pursue my destroyer to death, and this purpose quieted my agony and for an interval reconciled me to life.”
After the deaths of Elizabeth and Frankenstein’s father, Frankenstein commits to destroying the creature. At moments when he wishes to die, “revenge alone” gives him “strength and composure” (185). He reiterates this point in the cemetery before leaving Geneva, telling his dead loved ones, “For this purpose I will preserve my life” (186). As Frankenstein becomes as miserable as the creature, he adopts a similar goal: crushing his enemy. Both the creature and Frankenstein begin life with virtue and love, but despair makes destruction the sole purpose of their later existences.
“I was left drifting on a scattered piece of ice that was continually lessening and thus preparing me for a hideous death.”
The creature leads Frankenstein farther and farther toward the North Pole, knowing that Frankenstein will suffer in the cold, barren landscape. He seeks to increase Frankenstein’s suffering as much as possible before their final confrontation. The frigidity, treacherousness, and desolation of the landscape reflect the desolation Frankenstein and the creature feel within.
“All my speculations and hopes are as nothing, and like the archangel who aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell.”
Frankenstein tells Walton that the hopes he had for his life are over; he is like Satan, who sought unlimited power and is now living in Hell. The creature also compares himself to Satan, creating yet another similarity between the two. In this passage, Frankenstein acknowledges that his quest for unlawful knowledge—his desire to be greater than human nature allows—is the reason for his misery.
“Yet it is terrible to reflect that the lives of all these men are endangered through me. If we are lost, my mad schemes are the cause.”
When his ship is surrounded by ice, Walton worries that his quest for knowledge will cause not only his own death but also those of his crew. Humanity’s quest for knowledge and glory, and the suffering that results from attempting to rise above one’s nature, is a major theme in Frankenstein. Walton’s fear that he will be responsible for the deaths of his crew is reminiscent of Frankenstein’s fears that the creature will kill his loved ones. It also suggests that Walton will learn Frankenstein’s lessons.
“Farewell, Walton! Seek happiness in tranquility and avoid ambition, even if it be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in science and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself been blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed.”
Frankenstein, shortly before dying, bids Walton farewell and once again warns him against ambition, arguing that humans are better off accepting peaceful lives of humility. However, he closes his speech by suggesting it is possible someone else will achieve similarly life-altering discoveries and benefit humankind without the suffering Frankenstein has endured. Frankenstein dies still hopeful about science’s ability to conquer nature, illustrating not only his indomitability but also humankind’s.
“Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent quality which I was capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to mine.”
The creature says that the hate Walton has for him cannot equal the hate he has for himself. Having committed unforgivable crimes, he no longer deserves love or sympathy. Like Frankenstein, he thinks back to a time when he was virtuous and full of love and is unable to believe the violent being he has become. He connects this violence with the lack of love he received from humankind. The creature insists to Walton that he felt “agony and remorse” in his killings because his “heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy” (202). Ironically, the creature only becomes the “meanest animal” people assume him to be because he is cast out of human society.
“I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the agony of the torturing flames.”
The creature assures Walton that no one should fear him any longer because he will retreat and set himself on fire. He will “exult” in the “agony” because his misery will finally be over. This is the final use of the fire motif. The creature is the product of unlawful knowledge, and his own knowledge of humankind and his alienation is the source of his misery. The simultaneous exultation and agony suggest the dual nature of knowledge, which brings both pleasure and pain.
By Mary Shelley
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