Frankenstein: 10 possible meanings
From The BBC
14 March 2011
A global cinema audience will this week watch Danny Boyle's
stage production of Frankenstein. It's the latest take on Mary Shelley's famous
Gothic novel. But what's the book really about?
The idea emerged from a summer that didn't happen. Due to
the largest volcanic eruption for more than 1,600 years, in Indonesia in
late 1815, the northern hemisphere was plunged into a freakishly cool and
sunless summer the following year. On the shores of Lake
Geneva, the miserable weather kept five British tourists cooped up
inside a villa for days, where they passed the time in a horror story-writing
competition. The 19-year-old Mary Godwin, in Switzerland with poet Percy
Shelley, envisioned "the hideous phantasm of a man" and turned her
contribution into a novel published anonymously in 1818. It told the story of a
Swiss scientist, Victor Frankenstein, who is so horrified by the ugly creature
he brings to life from stolen corpses, that he abandons him, with terrible
consequences.
Within a few years, the novel was being adapted for the
stage, and in the 20th Century there were many memorable film versions that took
the work in different directions. This week, a production by Slumdog Millionaire
director Danny Boyle at London's
National Theatre is being screened live to 400 venues in 22 countries. Nearly 200 years after that sunless summer, the novel is
considered a landmark work and every decade brings a new interpretation. Here
is a selection - some include plot details.
1. Science can go too far
The term "Frankenstein foods" - applied to
genetically modified products - suggests the name of the novel has become a
byword for bad science. But this metaphor is unfair, says Angela Wright, a
lecturer in Romantic literature at the University of Sheffield.
"There's evidence that she was very conversant with the scientists of her
day. But she believed in the sanctity of human life and knew the work of
Lawrence and Abernethy, who were working in Edinburgh in the 1810s in dissection
theatres, on the re-animation of corpses. [Her husband] Percy Shelley was also
very interested in that." She thought these people had crossed a line,
says Wright, but she had a lot of admiration for scientific thought in general.
2. Actions have consequences
It's not just the responsibility of creating life that
Shelley wants to emphasise, says Wright, and this is clear in the letters of
Robert Walton that frame the Frankenstein story - the wider narrative that is
often overlooked. Walton is the seafarer who rescues Frankenstein from an ice
float deep in the Arctic, as the scientist
pursues the monster. Encouraged by Frankenstein, the captain ignores the pleas
of his crew to turn back, actions that Shelley appears to condemn. "Walton
doesn't take responsibility for the safety of his men and that is criticised
within the novel. He comes round but regretfully, simply because the
atmospheric conditions are against him, not out of concern for his men.
"He seems to be a very shadowy double of Victor Frankenstein in many ways,
because he pants for tales of romance and adventure in the same way."
3. Don't play God
"As suggested by the novel's subtitle, The Modern
Prometheus, Victor Frankenstein is an example of the Romantic over-reacher, who
transgresses boundaries between the human and the divine," says Marie
Mulvey-Roberts, author of Dangerous Bodies: Corporeality and the Gothic.
According to Greek myth, Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to
man, and suffered eternal punishment. The sense that Frankenstein has pursued
forbidden knowledge is further underlined by the references to Milton's Paradise Lost, a work the creature
reads and recites. His rejection by his creator can be seen as a second Fall of
Man.
4. A warning about freed slaves
Shelley was writing the novel a mere 10 years after the
abolition of the slave trade in the British Empire, and she did so in Bath, not far from the port of Bristol,
where many of the slaving ships departed the country. There are references to
it in the novel, says Mulvey-Roberts. "Frankenstein says he is enslaved to
his work, and the creature escapes like a refugee slave, pursued by his master.
But then there's a power shift, so you get a hegemonic master-slave dialectic
where the slave is a master and the master is a slave to his work and to his
obsession. "Mary Shelley was certainly no supporter of slavery but she did
not protest when [Foreign Secretary George] Canning used the analogy of the
Frankenstein as a spectre warning of the danger of slaves being emancipated too
quickly. In the novel when the creature assumes mastery, he causes mayhem
leading to the loss of life."
5. Shelley's maternal guilt
Many critics think the novel is shaped by the tragic events
in Shelley's own life. Her mother died days after she was born and Shelley
herself lost her first child, born prematurely. The first feminist
interpretation of Frankenstein was by Ellen Moers, who read Shelley's novel as
a sublimated afterbirth, says Diane Hoeveler, from Marquette
University in Wisconsin, US. "The author expels her
own guilt both for having caused her mother's death and for having failed to
produce a healthy son for Percy, as his legal wife Harriet had done three
months earlier. "For Moers,
the novel's strength was to present the 'abnormal, or monstrous, manifestations
of the child-parent tie' and in so doing, 'to transform the standard Romantic
matter of incest, infanticide, and patricide into a phantasmagoria of the
nursery'."
6. Post-natal depression
The novel can be read as a critique of the family as much as
a longing for one. The monster can be seen as a way of coping with the loss of
her mother shortly after Mary Shelley's birth as well as the loss of her own
babies. It deals with the rejection, the lack of nurture - Victor's solitary
male propagation. The feminist movement has championed the elevation of Mary
Shelley to canonical rank, says Prof John Sutherland. And there are moments
when the creation appears to be presented as a birth and Victor Frankenstein as
a stricken mother. "It was on a dreary night of November, that I beheld
the accomplishment of my toils... 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.
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?"
(Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Chapter five) Is this, asks Sutherland, inventor's
remorse or post-natal depression?
7. Monsters are not born monsters
Boyle's production
suggests the scientist is the real monster. The creature's initial innocence
suggests you are not born a monster, says Vic Sage, a professor at the University of East Anglia who has written extensively
on the Gothic tradition. "When he looks into the pool and sees himself, you want
to shout out at him 'You're not a monster, you're OK.'" Many of the Hammer
films didn't even give the monster a voice, he says, only capable of grunting
the odd word. "Even with [director] James Whale, it doesn't ever feel like
history could ever be on Boris Karloff's side. They are thought to be great
films but they missed the point of the book. "Mary Shelley gave him a
voice. It's great that he talks like an 18th Century philosopher because then
you have this disparity between his appearance and his speech, which tests the
viewer."
8. Difference should be celebrated, not shunned
Today's society has a greater understanding of the notion of
difference, says Dr Sage, so the scene where Frankenstein rejects his creation,
so repulsed is he by his disfigurement, has a wider resonance. "Everyone
reading it now knows that she's dramatising difference in the most absolute way
possible. Differences in race and class. That's why it's very important to
think that the creature is a creature and not a monster, and that he has a
voice."
9. Vive la revolution
Within decades of the book's publication, the central theme
was picked up by cartoonists and used satirically, says Chris Baldick, author
of In Frankenstein's Shadow: Myth, Monstrosity and Nineteenth-Century Writing.
In 1843, a cartoon entitled The Irish Frankenstein appeared in Punch, and
depicted Daniel O'Connell, leader of the republican movement, being threatened
by a thuggish Irish peasant. Forty years later, Charles Parnell appeared in the same
magazine after the Phoenix
Park murders, cowering from a simian-looking creature. The inference in both
cartoons was that the politicians had helped to create a monster. Frankenstein's
creature has been interpreted as symbolic of the revolutionary thought which
had swept through Europe in the 1790s, but had
largely petered out by the time Shelley wrote the novel. Critics said the
creature's failure to prosper and the havoc unleashed was evidence that Shelley
was anti-revolution, unlike her radical parents and husband, and supportive of
the old order. But by applying modern values to the narrative, it is clear that
the failings lie with man, the creator, and not the creature, says Dr Sage. "That's
the notorious riddle: Who is the 'new Prometheus' of the title - Victor or his
creature? You can read into it that it's a failure of the revolution that he
represents, but only if you don't have the psychological and social attitudes
of today."
10. Christian allegory
The book is really a dialogue between reactionary and
progressive points of view, says Sage, and this applies to the question of the
presence of Milton
and the Christian myth - the treatment of the Fall - which it puts under the
glass. "The creature has read Milton
but, as he says, he feels more like the fallen angel than Adam in that story,
because he has to play the part of the outcast. Mary Shelley dramatises the
conflict between the Romantic view of Satan as a Promethean hero, out to take
God's place, which was the projection of a set of male poets - Blake, Shelley,
Byron and Goethe, for example - and the havoc that such idealistic projects
wreak domestically, in people's actual lives."
[If you haven’t read Frankenstein and have been put
off reading it by the movie versions you are missing out on one of the world’s
great pieces of literature. I was surprised at just how good it was, how
timeless the message is and how sympathetic Frankenstein’s creature is. It is a
bought that will haunt you long after you have turned the last page. Read it
soon.]