Frankenstein: who is to blame?

A critique of Victor’s excessive ambition by Dr Jennifer Minter

Victor’s father’s advice (which possibly reflects Mary Shelley’s) is that wisdom should temper our excesses; “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”. (56)

One element of Victor’s failed experiment is his lack of moderation — his excessive ardour and his self-absorption.  He admits that he knows what his father’s “feelings” are likely to be, but nevertheless cannot “tear my thoughts from my employment, loathsome in itself, but which had taken an irresistible hold of my imagination”.  (56)  The object itself has “swallowed up every habit of my nature”. Both before and after the creation of the “great object” even Victor is aware of his inability to temper his passion and obsession.  During his efforts prior to the creation, Victor had become “nervous to a most painful degree” and was “oppressed by a slow fever” (57), and as he neglects his family and the seasons, he becomes oblivious as to how “grossly was I engrossed in my occupation”.

He justifies his heightened state of tension through the comparison with the fall of the Greek empire and the Roman conquest.  He ruminates that it is perhaps the obsessive, fervent and (unbalanced) spirit that propels mankind forward, headlong into danger. “If no man allowed any pursuit whatsoever to interfere with the tranquillity of his domestic affections, Greece had not been enslaved; Caesar would have spared his country; America would have been discovered more gradually.”

After he creates the monster Shelley notes that he had worked with ‘an ardour that far exceeded moderation’.  After witnessing the horror of the “demoniacal corpse”, Victor’s heightened state of agitation gives way to “languor and extreme weakness” (59).

Victor’s self absorption and egotism are also revealed when he attempts to describe his own anguish, claiming that ‘tortures of the accused did not equal mine’. Frankenstein privileges his own safety over Elizabeth’s. Likewise, Victor also revels the depths of his self-pity when he agonisingly states in the aftermath of Justine’s execution that the ‘tortures of the accused did not equal mine’.   The creation scene exposes the creator as painfully self conscious, with an emphasis the horror of his deed.

The creation scene and the Promethean myth

The focus of Frankenstein is Victor’s attempts to usurp the role of God and spawn his own creation. He is obsessed with “penetrating the secrets of nature” and with discovering the “secrets of heaven and hell”.  He dedicates himself to natural philosophy, particularly chemistry and spends more than two years obsessed, “heart and soul”, in the pursuit of his project at Ingelstadt University. His pride knows no bounds and nothing deters him from his project until the first sign of life, which causes him to recoil in horror.

Unlike the perfect creation of Adam, who is “perfect, happy and prosperous”, Frankenstein’s offspring has some decent qualities, but these “luxuriances” form a hideous contrast.  The teeth of “pearly whiteness” and the “lustrous black hair” form a “horrid contrast with the creature’s “watery eyes”, with his “dun-white sockets” and with his “shrivelled complexion”. The “lifeless thing” opens his “dull yellow eyes” and yields a “convulsive motion”.

If God nurtures his creator, Victor abandons his. Whilst the monster yearns for love and contact and recognition, with his “one hand (was) stretched out, seemingly to detain me”, Victor “escaped, and rushed downstairs”. (59)  Feeling very agitated, he is anxious to escape any “approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life” (59).  After the birth, Victor becomes, like Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner, constantly aware of a heinous presence, stalking him. The Ancient Mariner “walks on, and turns no more his head/Because he knows a frightful fiend/Doth close behind him tread”. (60)  This leads to a heightened state of anxiety and frustration. He is never at ease.

As he ponders the toils of his labour, the use of the first person, promethean “I”,  emphasizes Victor’s role as a creator and the burden of his creation: “I beheld the accomplishment of my toils”.  And as Victor is aware of his desire to “infuse(s) a spark of being into the lifeless thing”, Shelley leaves readers in no doubt that his quest for dominance, transgresses human and scientific boundaries.

The pursuit of the secrets of existence and the desire to usurp the role of God and the mother is presented as sacrilegious and blasphemous.   The promethean light that penetrates the darkness and grasps its essence is associated with the process of “infusing life into an inanimate body”.  A certain “pearly whiteness” suggests “luxuriances”. However, the “life” turns into a grotesque monster focusing our attention on the blasphemous attempts of man to usurp the role of God and of the mother.

And if the original Prometheus is punished for presuming to usurp the role of God and create life, a similar fate awaits Victor.  Because of his hideous nature, the monster curses his creator: ‘ O cursed creator, why do I live?’.

It is not surprising that the birth scene takes place on a “dreary night of November, because characteristically Shelley uses the natural setting throughout her novel to reflect the emotional state of the characters. Here, the dreariness reflects Victor’s anguish and anxiety that arise to a fever pitch. Also the rain that ‘pattered dismally’ becomes associated with the lugubrious appearance of the monster which cruelly foreshadows Frankenstein’s imminent disappointment.

The excessive use of the first person pronoun, “I” reflects Victor’s narcissistic streak and his self-indulgent response: “how can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe”.   That Victor has completely devoted himself to this task and alienated himself from all human companionship is evident in his extreme exhaustion upon the birth. Readers are invited to share Victor’s sense of outrage when he exclaims that he had “deprived myself of rest and health”. Shelly also critically explains that Victor ‘had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation’.  Later, Victor reaffirms his self obsession, when after the unjust execution of Justine, which he is partially to blame, he states ‘tortures of the accused did not equal mine’.  Shelley also places the spotlight on Victor’s instinctive rejection and resentment of his creation which lays bare his excessive pride. His rejection of the  ‘catastrophe’ is the first step towards his own torturous demise.  As the monster states, unlike Adam’s God, Victor “had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him”. (134) Adam also has a companion: the monster has no Eve, who ‘soothed my sorrows and shared my thoughts; I was alone” (134)

The interplay of light and dark, reflect Victor’s emotional state of mind and foreshadow his descent into darkness as he becomes increasingly aware of the “hell” within. The monster appears as an externalisation of a repressed part of Victor’s psyche.  As “night .. closed around” him Victor is aware of his extremely gloomy state of mind. “I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most wretched of human beings.” (76) After Justine’s death he comments that “I bore a hell within me”, and “I had committed deeds of mischief beyond description horrible” and yet his heart “overflowed with kindness” (94) .  Realising that the monster is the true criminal, Victor feels responsible.  “My own vampire, my own spirit let loose from the grave’ reiterates the notion of the grotesque double.  His vivid imagination torments him and becomes steeped in “scenes of evil and despair”.

Throughout the “creation scene”, Shelley juxtaposes images of darkness and light reminiscent of the Romantic gothic theme so as to endow the creature’s birth with an aspect of the grotesque. The element of horror pervades Victor’s fearful and abhorrent response: ‘ I could not endure’ what I had ‘created’.  The horror particularly becomes apparent through the “watery eyes” which are almost the same colour as the “dun white sockets”. That Victor had selected his features to be “beautiful” and yet they turn grotesque highlights his deep seated angst and brutal disappointment. He feels personally betrayed by the monster whom he holds responsible for his own agony. Victor justifies his rejection of the monster and wallows in self pity when he grieviously mutters ‘I was unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created’.

Like Prometheus, Victor suffers the hellish rage of his creation, with his nightmare reaching a dramatic climax in Elizabeth’s death. The original Prometheus was punished for presuming to usurp the role of God and create life. The monster’s “hellish rage” becomes a suitable punishment for Victor’s reckless desire to unlock and penetrate the secrets of life, defying the laws of humanity.   Likewise, Victor seeks to audaciously usurp the role of the mother, which reveals just as much about his horror of sexuality as his arrogance to become godlike.  Metaphorically, the mother’s death highlights the absence of the role of mother in Victor’s own creation, emphasizing a patriarchal belief that it is possible to exclude and marginalise women.  Upon the monster’s “birth”, Elizabeth immediately appears in a dream in the “bloom of health”.  His kiss becomes “livid with the hue of death” (59), foreshadowing the tragedies to come.

The image of Elizabeth also merges with those of his “dead mother in my arms” – this string of images reflect Victor’s symbolic murder of the mother figure.

In her passive and supporting role, Elizabeth patiently waits on the sidelines, treated somewhat possessively,  as if her role were inconsequential. Earlier Victor admits, “I looked upon Elizabeth as mine” “till death she was to be mine”.  Shelley also highlights the submission of women through Victor’s refusal to create a female monster. He is concerned that events would further spiral out of control as he could potentially give rise to a reproduction of “malicious” creatures. This would ironically minimize the importance of men in this patriarchal society.  Through the portrayal of her women characters, Shelley suggests that Victor’s attempt to exclude women is immoral. His attempt leads to the monster’s thirst for “vengeance”. Sadly, both Elizabeth and Justine, both the epitome of kindness and compassion are discarded in a harsh society that prejudicially focuses on the “hard” facts and circumstantial evidence. Elizabeth’s intuitive defence of Justine fails to sway the ‘harsh unfeeling reason’ of the judge.

Furthermore, Victor is particularly heinous because he abandons his creation in his time of need. Also, it is through his inability to nurture and care for his creature as a mother that Shelley shows Victor at his most self-absorbed and negligent. Immediately, upon the birth, Victor is filled with “breathless horror and disgust”.  The sterility and scientific nature of the monster is evident in the description of “the work of muscles and arteries”.  After William’s death, the grotesque form of the monster continues to dominate his vision.`  “The deformity of its aspect, more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy daemon to whom I had given life” (78)

Shelley not only critiques the mother’s exclusion during the birth process; she also shows the importance of the mother in the socialization and nurturing process.  The monster endures a confusing sense of identity because he does not have a mother or a family life. He learns how fathers “doted on smiles of the infant” contrasting to Victor’s exclusion of the female. He learns of a parallel existence of mothers in society as he becomes aware of infants to be in “cares of the mother”.  Shelley suggests the monster to be a product of his creator’s treatment as he too believes himself to be “miserable, unhappy, wretch” due to Victor’s abandonment, portraying this as a stark contrast to the compassion among the DeLacey family.  When Victor is “oppressed by a slow fever” he symbolizes the ‘Modern Prometheus’. The monster’s “hellish rage” is punishment for Victor’s reckless actions of unlocking the secret to life, defying the laws of humanity.

When Victor returns home upon William’s death, the monster’s presence is foreshadowed by lightening. Again the gothic play of light and darkness, dazzle Victor and recall the initial creation scene on the dreary night in November. “Vivid flashes of lightning dazzled my eyes, illuminating the lake, making it appear like a vast sheet of fire” then a “pitchy darkness” (77)   The Shakespearean reference to the “tempest” which is “so beautiful yet terrific”, recalls the ambivalent characteristics of the monster.  He recognises in the “noble war in the sky” the vivid flashes of lightning that dazzle and illuminate the lake, and provide the perfect backdrop for Williams’ funeral, “this is thy dirge”. The same flash of lightning also illuminated the figure of the “gigantic stature” and the deformity of its aspect, more hideous than belongs to humanity”. It was indeed the “filthy daemon” that besmirches the perfect aspect of mountain and sea and Victor has the alarming insight into the fact that “nothing in human shape could have destroyed that fair child”. (78)

When Victor espies the monster after William’s death the lightening again recalls Victor’s pursuit of the secrets and the description of the “noble war in the sky” again recalls the brilliance of Victor’s attempt at creation. When the monster appeared, “a flash of lightning illuminated the object”. However, the grotesque form of the monster again dominates Victor’s vision. “The deformity of its aspect, more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy daemon to whom I had given life” (78) The language that Shelly employs during this scene, Victor’s ‘limbs’ which ‘convulsed’ in reminiscent to the monster coming to life ‘a conclusive motion agitated its limbs seems to suggest the monster as Frankenstein’s double.

Shelly uses the natural setting to reflect Victor’s mood swings. His plunge into despair alternates with periods of bliss and joy and echoes the violence of Goethe’s romantic hero, Werther, who contemplates his despair from the perspective of his exclusion from Lotte’s love. After the news of Williams’ death Victor returns home, overcome by grief and fear.  His gloom is matched by the dark and sombre surroundings. As “night … closed around “ him Victor is aware of his extremely gloomy state of mind. “I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most wretched of human beings.” (76) Upon his approach to the town, he is initially excluded because of his late arrival and then is confronted by a violent storm (77). Soon there is a “terrific crash over (his) head”. After Justine’s death he comments that “I bore a hell within me”, and “I had committed deeds of mischief beyond description horrible” and yet his heart “overflowed with kindness” (94)

Justine’s narrative draws attention to the corruption inherent in both the church and the legal system.  The failure of Elizabeth’s speech and plea for an acquittal on behalf of Justine reflects her impotence and inability to deal with the outside world. Elizabeth’s comment on the death of Justine ‘mean appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood’ reveals more social criticism from Shelley and also suggests that there are blurred distinctions between the monstrous ‘vile insect’ and the human.  The monsters education at the accidental hands of the De Lacey family provides Shelley with another opportunity for a critique of society and human injustice, once again the boundaries between the monstrous and human seem blurred.  In the aftermath of Justine’s unjust execution Shelley suggests that true horror lies within. She infers that it lies in the mental agonies and torments we frequently inflict upon ourselves. Victor sees himself as the true murderer ‘I bore a hell within me’, echoing Milton’s Satan in Paradise Lost, which highlights his feelings of guilt.

Is the monster justified in what he does to his creator?

The monster commits a series of heinous acts in Frankenstein. When the monster discovers his ability to impart pain upon his creator, he effectively murders all those who are dear to Victor. Whilst it is evident that Shelley does not condone the murderous acts of revenge, she puts forward a series of mitigating circumstances that evoke a sense of both horror and sympathy in readers. From the moment of his birth, he suffers cruel rejection by his creator in his selfish pursuit of knowledge.

Victor recoils in horror from the ugliness of his creation. His rejection is replicated in other social relationships experienced by the monster, which lead to a sense of acute despair and loneliness. In this regard, both Frankenstein and the monster vie for the position of most grieved owing to their feelings of acute suffering.  ‘Blasted thou you wert’ the monster says over the dead body of Victor, ‘my agony was still superior to thine’.

Shelley’s Frankenstein is depicted as noble and given tragic heroic status, which belies her later apparent disgust when Frankenstein transcends the boundaries of knowledge and worse, rejects his creation. We also pity Frankenstein’s monster who states ‘sorrow increased with knowledge’.

Initially, the monster incites a great deal of horror in readers because of the brutal and inexcusable murders of William and Justine. They are both innocent and unadulterated. The murder is born of the monster’s desire for revenge and the fact that he exalts in William’s death incites shock and disgust. This is highlighted when the monster states ‘I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish triumph’. The social injustice of Justine’s execution is also portrayed as horrific and further marginalises the monster.

The monster is at first positioned as benevolent and shows that he is capable of identifying with another’s pain and misfortunate. However, it appears that it is the socialisation process, or rather his incorporation into society, that renders him evil.

During the creation scene he extends his hand to Frankenstein which shows his longing for companionship. He instinctively, and with his “one hand stretched out” tries to “detain” Victor and pleads for care. Likewise, with his interaction with the De Lacey family. The monster identifies with their sense of exile and is saddened by their apparent poverty and ‘deeply affected by it’. The monster states ‘when they were unhappy I felt depressed; when they rejoiced I sympathised in their joys’. He helps them out by cutting fire wood without their knowledge.

He admires their kindness and he hopes to gain their confidence. He expects that by winning their compassion and by earning their respect that they would “overlook my personal deformity” (133)  He asks, “could they turn from their door, one however monstrous, who solicited their compassion and friendship?” (133)

A turning point in the monster’s life, occurs when he saves the drowning girl from the “force of the current” and “dragged her to shore”. She was “senseless” and he, like his own creator, sought to restore life, to “restore animation”.  The “rustic” fires his gun at the monster who “sank to the ground” and the Monster soon “writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone”.  (The rustic recoils in horror and reacts just as cruelly as did Victor, and as will Felix and Mr De Lacey. They all reject the monster which feeds his anger.)

The monster’s questions this terrible “reward for my benevolence”. He had “saved a human being from destruction” and was treated so cruelly. His impulse towards kindness hardens and he becomes increasingly revengeful.  “The feelings of kindness and gentleness, which I had entertained but a few moments before, gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind.” (143)

The monster’s transformation into a vengeful being is highlighted in his vow: ‘eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind’.  “My sufferings were augmented also by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their infliction.” (143)

Whenever the monster tries to show kindness and help others, his deeds are rebuffed. He reels from the constant effects of horror and rejection.

The contradiction between the monster’s hideous physical appearance and his instinctive impulse towards benevolence suggests that society’s stereotypical views about physical appearance are a slight upon our system of social relationships. Shelley exposes her critique of a society that places too much emphasis upon physical appearance to the detriment of sensibility.

This is particularly evident when the monster reaches out to Mr de Lacey for guidance and assistance, expecting compassion from a fugitive who has also been ostracised by society.  The family is an idyllic model of kindness. Repulsed by injustice, Felix helps Saphie’s father; Saphie also strives to correct her father’s exploitative stance towards Felix. The family show the extreme care, kindness and consideration towards each other that is lacking in the monster’s life.  The monster expresses his regret that ‘no father had watched my infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses’.

Shelley strategically depicts Mr De Lacey as blind so that he cannot see the abnormalities of the ‘hideous’ and ‘loathsome’ ‘devil’ in front of him. Rather, he listens to the monster’s tale with compassion. However, the monster’s social interchange is promptly curtailed by Felix who instinctively reacts with horror and disgust. He beats him, thus pre-empting the monster’s comments ‘cursed creator, why do I live?’

Likewise, Victor promptly rejects him because of his grotesque features. Victor exclaims ‘great god’ and queries why he was not ‘beautiful’. He is “unable to endure the aspect of the being I created’. The monster is particularly affronted when he discovers Victor’s notes and reads his personal thoughts on the creation. Victor describes the ‘hateful day’ that spawned the creation of an ‘odious and loathsome’ creature which fuels the monster’s anger and sets a pattern of rejection and abandonment in the monster life. This has a direct link to the monster initial benevolence being short-lived.

William is similarly horrified when he recoils from the ‘ogre’ that ‘wishes to eat him’, and the father of the drowning girl also reflects this horror when he shoots the monster. The fact that the man (‘teared) the girl from my arms’ shows an acute sense of ingratitude that wounds and humiliates the monster. Likewise, even the kindly De Laceys, who are themselves social outcasts, reject him because of his physical abnormalities. Shelley depicts Mr De Lacey as a blind man to show the importance of appearances; initially he is not repulsed by the monster and listens compassionately to the monster’s story of disadvantage. However the monster’s companionship is short-lived when he is interrupted by Felix, who, in sheer horror, belts the monster with the stick. Their horror reflects Victor’s who is also repulsed at first sight.

Through the monster’s agony, Shelley critiques a society that privileges appearances and physical beauty. The accumulating experiences of rejection and abandonment fuel the monster’s desire for revenge, and thus to a certain extent provide some excuse for his horrific actions of murder. The monster becomes enraged at his deformities ‘Cursed, cursed creator, why did I live?’. In this statement we are forced to sympathise with the monster’s actions because of his inevitable rejection. Shelley contends that it is the monster’s interaction with the outside world that forced him to act, which provides some justification for the monster’s actions.

Shelley suggests that the monster’s act of vengeance also reflects his social immaturity, which in turn reflects the creator’s failure to nurture him. The monster remains at an elementary and immature state of self awareness.  The monster gradually learns that love and nurture are critical elements in the human story and their lack leads to a strong sense of rejection and abandonment. Though observing the De Lacey family’s ‘gentle nature and amiable qualities’ the monster discovers love and companionship between family and siblings and the ‘various relationships which bind one human being to another’. His acute sense of abandonment is deepened after witnessing the close knit family. Shelley again justifies the monster’s murderous actions towards his creator because he wasn’t educated, taught morality or even cared for by his creator. This fuels his hope of a female companion, which he increasingly realises is the most important thing in the world.

The monster’s strong identification with Milton’s Adam in Paradise Lost provides an insight into his despair and overriding sense of loneliness. The monster is struck by his similarity with Adam.  “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 is a “perfect creature, happy and prosperous” and “guarded by the especial care of his Creator” (132)   This example reinforces to the monster his own wretchedness. He realises to what extent he is “wretched, helpless, and alone”.  As the monster realises, unlike Adam’s God, Victor “had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him”. (134) Adam also has a companion: the monster has no Eve, who ‘soothed my sorrows and shared my thoughts; I was alone” (134)

The female monster

This despair continues to build sympathy in readers which reaches a climax when he implores Victor to create a female monster which is modelled upon Eve. If Adam was cared and loved for by his creator, the monster feels that he has been wrongfully cast out of Eden. He does not even have a female companion, Eve, to share his torment. Shelley deliberately includes the monster’s narration in the novel to provide an acute sense of his humiliation which culminates in the murder of Elizabeth. The ultimate act of revenge is directed at Victor who fails to provide the companionship for which he so desperately yearns. He thereby denies Victor his own right to love and companionship and ensures that he suffers eternally.

The refusal to create the second monster reinforces the isolation of the monster which is an abomination and prompts his threat ‘I shall be with you on your wedding night’. Whilst Shelley does not condone the disgraceful murder of innocent and ‘beautiful’ Elizabeth, she suggests that it is Victor’s abominable actions, which render the monster alone and lonely, are the true abomination.

By placing Victor in an impossible dilemma, Shelley reveals her view that a life of exclusion and complete isolation is one of the greatest abominations. For this reason, the monster invests a lot of emotion in his appeal to Frankenstein to create another monster to save him from his unbearable loneliness. He avers that such a monster will help him to ‘again be virtuous’ and he will halt his vendetta against his creator. The monster again depicts analogies between himself and Adam, which suggest that it is cruel and unnatural for the monster to live in isolation without a companion. By placing Frankenstein in an unenviable dilemma Shelley brilliantly shows how the abomination has social needs which compels Frankenstein to repeat his mistake. As a result of his indecision and mentor torpor, Frankenstein’s nervous energy dangerously exhausts him and the monster learns that ‘my enemy is not invulnerable’. He senses that murder is the best form of revenge.

Victor suffers enormous anxiety because of the impossible dilemma. He states,  “I feared the vengeance of the disappointed fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my repugnance to the task which was enjoined me.”  (155) It appears at first, that Victor renegs from selfish concerns, because he is reluctant to devote “profound study” to this project.   Ironically, when Victor finally resolves not to invent the female companion, he describes this as the ‘basest and most atrocious selfishness” and yet he seems to err on the side of social responsibility (175).  There is a suggestion that he changes his mind because he is not prepared to overlook the consequences again of his monstrous actions.  If, at first, he regarded the task as one that must be fulfilled “whatever the consequences”, he soon changes his mind and “saw clearly”. One aspect of the change is the recognition of his social responsibilities.  (175)  Later, as he drifts in solitude upon the sea, without a compass, and unable to “change my course”, he reflects upon his sufferings. “I thought of Elizabeth, of my father, and of Clerval; all left behind, on whom the monster might satisfy his sanguinary and merciless passions.” And all too soon, he is called to account to explain the death “of a gentleman who was found murdered here last night”.

Again, we pity both Victor and the monster, for different reasons. Their rivalry for sympathy is continued until the final stages of the narration, when, in the aftermath of Victor’s death, the monster bitterly states ‘blasted thou you wert, my agony were still superior to thine’. Shelley chooses to end the novel on this note, thereby suggesting that he is worthy of greater sympathy and thus paid more heavily than Victor for the murderous acts.

Shelley does not condone the monster’s heinous and vengeful acts of revenge; however she does suggest that there are mitigating circumstances which is why the portrayal of the monster appears ambivalent. She shifts much of the blame to Victor whose rejection sets a disturbing pattern of failed social interaction and maturation.

Through her criticism of social injustice, Shelley conveys to the reader the hardships bestowed upon the monster who is alienated from society. He is left yearning for companionship, but his repulsiveness becomes an enormous obstacle. She suggests that Victor’s failure to nurture and care for his creation lead to the horrible acts of murder. The monster’s actions are further excused because he was not taught the complexities of morality and the iniquities of revenge.

Narrative perspectives as metaphorical device : “Hear my tale it’s long and strange… you can decide”.

In an epistolary form, Captain Walton begins the narrative with a series of letters to his beloved sister, Margaret.  A self-educated man, he is keen to “satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited” and thus pre-empts Victor’s own struggle. Walton wishes to “tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man”. He, like Victor, is motivated by the pursuit of glory. “I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path”, and pursues like Victor the study of mathematics and branches of physical science.  Because of the pursuit of glory, he finds mind who are capable of “dauntless courage”.  He describes himself, as desperately in need of a friend in order to “repair the faults” of one who would also share  a similar “courageous”, “cultivated” and “capacious mind”.  His, like Victor’s, is a mind in need of regulation, so vulnerable it is to the dangers of overreach.  He is pleased to introduce his lieutenant, who is also “madly desirous of glory” (20).

Margaret is also a silent companion, who like Elizabeth, is capable of selfless affection and compassion. He thanks her repeatedly for “all your love and kindness”. Elizabeth is to play a similar supporting role who would temper Victor’s excess.  Unlike Victor, Walton pays tribute to the kind, civilising effect of his sister.  “A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship” (20).

Walton attributes his passion and ardour to penetrate the secrets of the ocean to that wonderful poet, Coleridge, the author of the Ancient Mariner , who kindles a similar “love for the marvellous”.

It is of particular note that readers are introduced first to the gigantic stature of the monster and then the limpid and distraught appearance of Victor.  As Walton notes, the figure has the “shape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, sat in the sledge and guided the dogs”. The apparition of the gigantic man made it seem as if the land were closer than they had envisaged.

Contrastingly, Victor is on the “brink of destruction”, and appears distinctly “European” rather than a “savage inhabitant”. “His limbs were nearly frozen and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and suffering. I never saw a man in so wretched a condition”. (26)

The fact that they are able to restore Victor to life by “rubbing him with brandy and forcing him to swallow a small quantity” inversely parallels Victor’s experience with his own creation. Lovingly, the sailors swaddle their infant-like companion in blankets and place him “near the chimney of the kitchen stove”.  Whilst Victor was obviously distraught, Walton notes that acts of kindness help to restore him and light up his “whole countenance”. As we shall note, this is in stark contrast to the rough treatment the creature experiences upon his birth.   Victor himself notes, “you have benevolently restored me to life”.

Victor functions as a cautionary device, who recognises his own extreme pursuits in Walton and asks him, “do you share my madness”. Have you drunk also of the intoxicating draught?”. This is in response to Walton’s exclamation that he aims to pursue his enterprise regardless of one man’s life or death, which pales into insignificance for the “acquirement of the knowledge which I sought for the dominion I should acquire and transmit over elemental foes of our race”.

Walton refers to Victor as a “divine wanderer”. He has a certain quality that “elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew” It is his capacity of “intuitive discernment”.  Victor recognises the similarities with the Captain – “you seek for knowledge and wisdom, as I once did and I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you as mind has been”.

It is only with hindsight, as Victor contemplates, and narrates his predicament to the outsider (Mr Walton), that he recognises just how rash he was, and how foolish to ignore his father’s advice.  The time shift, from the ardent student, to tormented wanderer, is evident as he recognises the importance of moderation: “I am now convinced that he was justified in conceiving that I should not be altogether free from blame”. We recall the father’s advice: “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.”

Although Victor launches into his precautionary tale, he punctuates this tale to remind readers that he is addressing his tale to Captain Walton whom he hopes will be suitably chastened in his own pursuit of glory. “I see by your eagerness and the wonder and hope which your eyes express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with which I am acquainted.” He asks him to “learn from me” and abide by his example in order to protect his own happiness. (54)

Victor realising that he is “moralising” with regards to the importance of a certain tranquillity of mind and spirit that ought not be disturbed by extreme passion – a precept that is transmitted from father to son. “I forget that I am moralising in the most interesting part of my tale” (57).