In House of Leaves, the characters of Tom, Daisy, and Johnny can be connected through their childhood innocence. Poe’s album Haunted directly helps us find a link with the characters with her songs Dear Johnny, Lemon Meringue, and Spanish Doll. Each song helps us understand each character better than how they are just represented in the book. For example, Dear Johnny is a short song with only the lyrics “Johnny dear don’t be afraid. I will keep your secret safe. Bring me to the blind man who, lost you in his house of blue”. The lyrics have a motherly tone to them, with the use of Johnny instead of John and with the reassurance that there is no need to be afraid. It also makes a direct reference to Zampano with the blind man lyric. Tom’s mention of lemon meringue in House of Leaves is mirrored in the song Lemon Meringue by Poe, which talks about life as being bitter and how there must be a way to make is sweeter. Tom gets along especially well with Daisy and Chad in House of Leaves and always is at odds with his brother. Tom talks about how he would love some lemon meringue and he also performs shadow puppets with his hands on the walls for the children. Daisy, in House of Leaves, is not afraid of the house. Her and Chad run through it and play hide and seek, but she does have a Spanish doll which helps her feel safe. Beginning with the first line of Poe’s song Spanish Doll, she sings of Daisy from her perspective. The line is “this place feels so unfamiliar, and yet I know it well”. This is about the house and ever since the phenomena of the closet and hallway, the house is beginning to change into something Daisy considers foreign to her understanding. Although Johnny, Tom, and Daisy all exist in either a different time or are of a different age, they are all connected through the house and their childlike innocence.
Textual Analyses
Respectable Femininity in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
“I gazed on the picture of my mother which stood over the mantel-piece. It was an historical subject, painted at my father’s desire, and represented Caroline Beaufort in an agony of despair, kneeling by the coffin of her dead father. Her garb was rustic, and her cheek pale; but there was an air of dignity and beauty, that hardly permitted the sentiment of pity.”
–Frankenstein, Page 79
The female characters in Frankenstein are few and are generally relegated to the background, as are most of the secondary characters, as the majority of the novel centers on Victor and his creature. However, unlike the male secondary characters, the only prominent women of Frankenstein are almost always depicted as long-suffering saints, whose nobility and composure in the face of adversity are their most attractive traits. Notably, Victor’s mother, Caroline, is portrayed in this manner. This depiction of the female characters in Frankenstein reflects the idea that a femininity characterized by suppressed pain, particularly one dampened by grief, is the most attractive a woman can possess.
Victor’s mother, Caroline, is introduced as the daughter of an ailing man, a friend of Victor’s father, who does all in her power to support him until his eventual passing. It is within this context that she meets her future husband, who, “came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl”. She is therefore rewarded for bearing her struggles, remaining a dutiful daughter and serving a traditional role in a patriarchal system. Within the span of two years she transitions neatly from a caretaker to her father, to a wife and caretaker of a child. It is mentioned briefly that Caroline had been “shaken by what she had gone through”, but her grief at losing her father to disease in relative squalor is never fully explored. From that point on the only emotion she shows is concern for others, going on to be described as “a guardian angel of the afflicted”. She ends up contracting a fatal illness by refusing to be stopped from nursing Elizabeth when she takes ill, and the one-sidedness of her character only continues with her death. Of his dying mother, Victor says, “On her death bed the fortitude and benignity of this best of women did not desert her”, and Caroline’s final moments are spent telling Victor and Elizabeth that she wants them to get married, and then she dies “calmly”, “and her countenance expressed affection even in death”. She never has a moment where she is without poise or composure, even as she knows she is about to die, and she is held up by Victor as “this best of women”. This woman, who we never get to know as a full-fledged character, serves as the pinnacle of idealized respectable femininity in the novel. She is charitable and kind, always thinking of others before herself, and when she has served her purpose (nursing Elizabeth from illness) she dies quietly and without incident.
These traits are echoed in Elizabeth, who, after Caroline’s death, “indeed veiled her grief, and strove to act the comforter to us all”, and Victor even claims that “never was she so enchanting than at this time”; that is, never was Elizabeth so appealing than when she was suppressing her own unexplored feelings of grief and possibly guilt at having been nursed to health only to see her caretaker killed by that same illness which afflicted her, to appease the people around her. We see a similar treatment of Justine who, is not only rendered “exquisitely beautiful” by the “solemnity of her feelings” upon being on trial for murder, but is described as a “saintly sufferer” who “assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficulty repressed her bitter tears” trying to comfort Elizabeth on the eve of her own death. These women are attractive when they are denying their own emotional needs for the sake of those around them, at least in Victor’s eyes.
This idealized feminine suffering is made especially clear when Victor returns to his family home and looks upon the painting of his mother described in the quote above. This portrait, displayed prominently on the mantelpiece, is how his father wanted to remember her: sobbing over her father’s grave (where he first met her and, perhaps, fell in love with her). Her pain is romanticized to the point where her depiction in the portrait “hardly permitted the sentiment of pity” because her suffering is just so darn beautiful.
The Ramifications of a Fervent Passion
The story of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is brought full circle with the passing of Victor Frankenstein and the forthcoming, sacrificial death of his monster. The “cat and mouse” game played between the two is merely a prolonged torture for both, and although Victor Frankenstein has failed to learn the lesson in following one’s unbridled enthusiasm, he has at least imparted the perils of it to his final friend and ally, Cpt. Watson.
Throughout the novel, we are given instances that Victor has at least realized the repercussions of his labors and the hindsight he so wishes he had. As he reflects in the creation of his monster, while creating a possible mate for the being: “my mind was intensely fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes were shut to the horror of the proceedings”. But the hindsight he exhibits is for naught, as he again makes rash actions in a fit of passion that alters his life once more, in destroying the monster’s only hope for happiness and companionship. Without once again considering the ramifications of such an act, he has doomed himself to the consequences of it, even with the warning of his enemy imparted upon him: “soon the bolt will fall which must ravish from you your happiness forever.”
Victor spends the better part of his life thinking a force other than his own leads him, whether it be divine or pure destiny. Even in his resolve to kill his creation or die, he claims, “I pursued my path towards the destruction of the daemon more as a task enjoined by heaven…” Having fully heard the Victor’s story and the perils of blindly pursuing passion, Walton finally shows resolve and humanity in deciding to head back South, in order to ensure the safety of his crew. Although he himself intended to “die rather than return shamefully,” he fully realizes the dangers apparent not only for him, but for others around him as well. This principle is hit home in the final scene, as even the monstrous and inhuman creation confirms how “the completion of my daemonical design became an insatiable passion. And now it is ended; there is my last victim!”
The conflict between the creator and his creation is resolved with the death of one of them, with the futilities of their efforts fully realized only until after. In deciding to turn around against his perceived destiny and personal pursuit, Walton has at least begun to realize that one can be in control of their own fate and can change course at will.
Textual Analysis: Why You Can’t Trust Anyone In Frankenstein
Mary Shelley was highly influenced and talented due to her parentage, as mentioned in the introduction, Percy Shelley, her husband, was very supportive and always urged her to explore her literary talents. Frankenstein was an ideal example of her talents and how she is able to speak in different voices within a singular work. This novel is narrated in first person and by three different people during different parts of the overall story, each demonstrating different qualities and personalities which Shelley did a good job of exhibiting. However, because they are all recalling their perspective on the same story, it will be very biased and therefore, unreliable, as first person narratives tend to be. Both Victor Frankenstein and Robert Walton control the vast majority of the narrative that the reader perceives. However, there are a variety of contradictions within their own narratives, specifically Frankenstein’s. Frankenstein even goes as far as to discount his creation’s narrative. This demonstrates Frankenstein’s egocentric nature and exhibits how it clouds Frankenstein’s view on morality.
Walton is very similar to Frankenstein and is often regarded as his foil (juvenile, innocent form of Victor, but just as pretentious). Walton is only heard in the novel through the means of letters sent to his sister. Walton is pompous and glory seeking and unlike Frankenstein, also has a more cheerful tone and is not isolated by nature but rather by choice. He chooses to frequently write to his sister, unlike Frankenstein who rarely wrote to his family. So the vast majority of diction used in Walton’s letters is light hearted and optimistic, never perceiving the possible dangers ahead. Through Walton’s eyes, everything seems to be going well except that he has no companion and he longs for one. He exalts Frankenstein greatly, but as the reader progresses and uncovers the truth, it’s noticed that Frankenstein is actually also a pompous person who does not deserve praise. The reader’s initial view of Frankenstein was biased due to Walton’s account.
Frankenstein himself is also very pretentious, and is more isolated than Walton. He is more in tune with nature than with people; he regards this as the fault of his elevated intelligence. He also provides a input on how he feels throughout the novel, providing the reader with a grand extension on his perspective regarding the world around him. And even with the amount of details he provides, it is still unreliable. The most significant instances of perspective in his narrative is his opinions regarding the creature. Victor dehumanizes the monster immensely, depriving him of emotions and the reader’s sympathy. Shelley allows the reader to also take the creature’s perspective and make the choice his or herself of whether the creature is an antagonist or simply a misunderstood hero.
Shelley emphasizes that the creature is innately good but was corrupted under man’s prejudice. The only way the reader is aware of this is through the creature’s perspective. Frankenstein never elaborates on the initial good nature of the creature and this created a negative opinion regarding his creation. This is one of the main reasons the reader cannot trust Frankenstein’s opinions about others he interacts with either. Even if Frankenstein believes the monster is terrible and crazy for killing the people Frankenstein has loved, it is also known through the creature’s perspective that he felt guilt and remorse while murdering.
You can’t trust anyone in this novel, but Shelley is not just trying to say that. Romanticism focuses on innate feelings and Shelley explores how diverse feelings and background stories influence accounts of stories. Walton describes the creature as hideous on the outside, but not once does he exhibit the cruel remarks Frankenstein has made regarding the creature’s inner person. The only way to understand a full story is to explore the different perspectives and significances.
Sympathy for the Devil
Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me? —
Paradise Lost
In Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, sympathy (or the lack there of) is a key component in much of the language and actions of the characters. The novel builds up the emotions and character composition of Victor Frankenstein, in an attempt to create sympathy for the shamed creator. In essence Shelley tries to generate concern for the titular character, however the true focus of sympathy lies in Victor’s creation. The shamed monster is a tragic figure, and the one deserving of the most sympathy in the text.
The part of the novel narrated by Victor gives insight into the man’s mind, and reasoning for his words and actions. These instances of vivid detail into the man’s psyche come at times where he is reflecting on his own life, and the actions he has done. The detail and discernment occur during times when tangible events are not necessarily taking place, they occur more often in Victor’s head as his reactionary thoughts. They serve to help us see the actions from Victor’s point of view, which should make us more sympathetic to the man.
However when the creature is given a voice, and takes over the book’s narration, we as the readers understand who is really to blame for all the misfortune in the novel. When both perspectives are presented to the reader, the accounts of Victor are slightly neglected as we see the consequences of his own actions.
It is quickly apparent why Shelley would choose to include the Milton quote on the title page. The emotion of the quote foreshadows the unwarranted sorrow that will overcome many of the book’s characters. But as the novel lends a voice to the creature parallels are formed between the monster and source of the quote. The tragedy of the monster is due to no fault on his part, at least not at first. After he is created by Victor and immediately he is met with disgust and scorn. This never goes away, as he is met with similar if not worse reactions from every human he encounters no matter what he is doing.
The Milton quote becomes increasingly appropriate as the creatures sheds more and more light on his experiences. The monster is suffering no doubt, but he did nothing to draw the attention of the suffering. His only fault is that he is ugly, and people are scared of him. The one at fault for the creatures suffering is Victor. Victor is the creature’s creator, and Frankenstein acknowledges that their relationship should have been better.
“I ought to be thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel.” The monster at this point of his life is aware that he is a disappointment to Victor, he knows their relationship should have been better. It is only Victor’s horror and disappointment with his results that lead to the creature knowing only mistreatment. In an example of nature vs. nurture the monster eventually is fed up with the treatment he faces, and he is pushed to the limit (committing murder). But considering his brute strength and imposing stature, it is unclear as to why the creature endures it all for so long. The sad truth is that the monster is a tragic figure because did nothing harmful to anyone at first, it was only after his environment (people especially) affected him that he was corrupted and fell to revenge and havoc in response.
Everybody Needs Henry Clerval
In each of the three volumes of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Henry Clerval is present, seemingly understated, and, yet, forms one of the most integral parts of the story. Although introduced as a boy of singular talent, Henry can do far more. Besides being a nicer, less sickly counterpart to Victor, free from dealing with the plight of his friend, Henry has helped far more. It is largely because, through his own actions and inactions, Henry Clerval represents the necessity of friendship.
Simply by appearing throughout Victor Frankenstein’s life, Clerval provides company and removes isolation. Going by the second letter, even Robert agrees with the necessity of having someone who would not “despise me as a romantic.” For the years spent at sea, he needed someone who was willing to hear his thoughts and considered its absence a “severe evil.” Even Victor’s creation desires company. After his long tale, the fiend’s sole request is another companion; else, he would cause fear and injury. In some sense, Victor is lucky. When Frankenstein meets Clerval, his familiar face made him felt “for the first time during many months, calm and serene joy.” After spending years toiling in isolation, now Victor’s own spirits are raised, does not become reduced to causing mayhem such as the fiend, nor does he continue towards pursuits that puts his “body to hardship.”
Clerval also gives Victor Frankenstein the will to live and the feeling that he still belongs in society. Physically, Clerval gives Frankenstein the will to live by nursing him from his sickness. In a later chapter, Clerval’s own enjoyment of existence consoles him and “soothes his heart.” In contrast with Frankenstein’s creation, the fiend has no “Henry Clerval”, and the small chance of a possible companion is torn right in front of him. Then, through what may be considered poetic justice, the fiend destroys Frankenstein’s very own will to live.
An Examination of Victor Frankenstein’s Struggle with Creation
“The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room, and continued a long time traversing my bedchamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude succeeded to the tumult I had before endured; and I threw myself on the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain: I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her; but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed: when, by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch — the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped, and rushed down stairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited; where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life.”
This passage appears immediately after Victor gives life to the creature. It is also one of the first times when Victor realizes he may have made a terrible mistake, noticing the ugliness and monstrosity in his creation far more than he notices the miracle of manufactured life. In a single moment he transitions from the determined scientist working day and night to accomplish his goals into something else far more afraid and full of regret. “I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed: when, by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch.” In a fever dream brought upon by his internal turmoil, Victor sees his dead mother in a rather grotesque way showing his twisted obsession with her death. This is one of the main motivating factors of his twisted science. By bestowing life upon the creation Victor wanted to show that he could be more powerful than nature and choose by himself whether someone should live or die. The desire to control life has not often been portrayed as a healthy characteristic and much as people are punished for taking life, Victor must be punished in some way for creating it. He sees this creation as the hideous representation of all the mistakes he has made in his experimentation and enters a state of internal distress for the remainder of the story. He is terrified of this monster not only because of its massive size but also because of what it represents: his self-destructive God complex and all of the punishment that he must face for his actions.
Son of Frankenstein
“Alas my father […] how little do you know me” (189).
These words are whined by Victor Frankenstein after his father tries to teach him about the futility of pride. Frankenstein refuses to hear it because he believes his father misunderstands his suffering. But perhaps he’s really just that transparent, and the reason he is suffering is because of his overabundance of pride.
He knows that the monster has emotions and the ability to reason, and is essentially a human being in that regard. But he keeps trying to justify keeping him from having someone to love. That’s because the monster’s only flaw is that he is ugly. He is superior to regular humans in every way, and if he also could find love then he could truly become the next evolution of man.
Victor has too much pride in himself to let his creation overtake him. In fact, the very reason he created the monster in the first place was to give himself greatness. Once the reality of the living creature manifested, however, he couldn’t face the horror. The first thing the monster wanted from him was love, reaching out his hand to touch Frankenstein. When Frankenstein ran away from him, he was denying the monster love because he had none to give because he was too self-absorbed.
The irony of course is that Frankenstein tells his father that he doesn’t understand his troubles and he goes on to neglect the troubles of his creation. In his arrogance he is blind to his creation’s needs. If he had also had the foresight to not make the monster so ugly, he might not have had such a violent reaction to its animation.
Frankenstein’s refusal to understand his own flaws eventually comes back around and leads to his own death. Just as Frankenstein stood at his father’s deathbed, the monster stands over his creator’s corpse and laments his death, showing that he doesn’t lack compassion for him. We see that if Frankenstein had not been so blindly proud of himself, the story would not have had such a tragic end.
Creator and Creation: One and the Same
In Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, it is clear that Victor Frankenstein abhors his yellow-eyed creation. He frequently calls the creature a “devil,” “daemon” and “fiend,” along with many other spiteful names. (Shelley 102) The two are identified as rivals fueled by hatred. Frankenstein’s detestation of own his creation stems from how the creature is an enhanced being who embodies Frankenstein’s own flaws and virtues. Fire against fire merely produces a larger fire.
Frankenstein and the creature are similar in many aspects, just as a typical father and son are. Both are excited and energized by learning; Frankenstein by “the enticements of science” (51) and the creature by literature and “the art of language.” (118) Both are attracted to the beauty and divine quality of nature—the sublime. Victor often seeks solitude in the depths of magnificent landscapes. After being repeatedly deprived of sympathy from the human race, the creature can only be comforted by the “gentleness and pleasure” of nature and the light of the “blessed sun.” (142)
Not all their shared qualities, however, are as pleasant. Frankenstein is known to have selfish tendencies. If he sets his mind on a certain task, such as piecing together a superhuman, Frankenstein goes all in, and any ounce of good judgment disappears along with all caution. By the end of the novel, Frankenstein dedicates the rest of his life to a hunt in which he tries to destroy the creature once and for all. The creature derives the same conviction. Revenge. “Diabolical vengeance.” (222) That’s all they have on their minds.
Both feel they have the absolute right to end each other’s lives. No one has suffered as much as they have. Frankenstein despairs at the death of his loved ones while the creature suffers from neglect and being an outcast. “No creature had ever been so miserable as I was,” says Frankenstein. (201) “No guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to mine,” says the creature. (223) In the end, both are silenced by death but not directly by the hands of the each other.
God created humans in the likeness of His own image.
Victor Frankenstein did the same.
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein. Ed. Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin,
2003. Print.
Galvanism Aids Horror Factor
Though Mary Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein, is regarded as a horror novel, it no longer carries the same scare factor due to contemporary horror film. Regardless her novel was considered to be downright terrifying during the time period of Frankenstein’s publication. Shelley spawned the idea for Frankenstein through a nightmare of hers, which closely resembled Frankenstein’s creation. At the time of Frankenstein’s publication galvanism was considered a new science, and to most people of society a horrifying and blasphemous idea. Mary Shelley aids the frightening idea of the book through her elusive and vague use of galvanism. Shelley never fully states in Frankenstein, the creature was brought to life through the uses of galvanism, but leaves many subtle hints throughout the book. This allows readers to assume galvanism was the reason behind the creatures newly given life. Shelley leaves this key piece of information out of the book, because the idea of galvanism was only about thirty years old at the time of Frankenstein’s publication, and many people of that time period were not informed on the specifics of galvanism. The idea of using electricity to reanimate parts of a dead human body, instilled blood curdling fear and disgust among the public, which Shelley capitalizes on in her book. During the creature’s reanimation scene in the novel, Frankenstein states that he will, “infuses a spark of being into the lifeless thing” (Shelley 58). Shelley does not forwardly tell the reader the creature is being brought to life through the use of galvanism, because most of the public during the early nineteenth century are unaware of galvanism, which gives the scene a distinctive mysterious effect. The mysterious effect allowed readers of that time period to think of the most horrifying way to spark a being alive. Although the current generation is accustom to the idea of the spark being a bolt of lightning, as it is depicted in many Hollywood versions of Frankenstein, the public during the time of the publication did not have major motion pictures to persuade their imagination into thinking of a lightning bolt. To nudge the readers in the right direction Shelley leaves hint at the beginning of Frankenstein’s travels, when he encounters “a stream of fire issue from an old and beautiful oak” (42). After the stream of fire leaves the tree, Frankenstein is baffled when he sees a stump in place of the tree. After inquiring about electricity laws, his acquaintance “formed on the subject of electricity and galvanism, which were new and astonishing to [him]” (43). This allows the reader to make the direct connection that the spark associated to the creatures new life is a by-produce of the new science, galvanism, which intrigued Frankenstein. Mary Shelley does not go into detail on the subject of galvanism in the beginning to the book, this leaves galvanism open to the readers interpretation. When she does this, the idea of galvanism can go from small electrical impulses to trigger key muscle reactions, to the more imaginative idea that the lightning bolt can cause a hideous very much dead jigsaw-puzzled like creature can be brought to life. The open ended idea of galvanism can elevate the fear factor for readers depending on their imagination level, since Mary Shelley left no defined ideas. For example Mary Shelley’s nightmare, which envisioned Frankenstein’s experiment, was quite imaginative for her time period and even for those scientist who experimented on galvanism. Before the publication of Frankenstein, only small experiments on galvanism had been done to excite muscles, no one though it could be used to reanimate a deceased human. It was not until the year of Frankenstein’s publication, a full body was experimented on. Even then the scientist, Andrew Ure, still did not reanimate the body, although he was hopeful at the end of the experiment that reanimation could happen. The experiments were said to be so frightening to the public that many who were present during the public experiments had to leave the ghastly sight. With such strong reactions to simple muscle stimulation, one can only imagine how frightening the idea bring someone back to life would be. Nevertheless, the fact that Shelley left the idea of galvanism as an instrument of life open to interpretation, would be an effective way for her to instill terror into her readers. Since the public reacted so harshly towards the experiments, the scientist were considered to be deranged in the head. Mary Shelley also uses how the public reacted to the experiments, in a similar way throughout the book. Frankenstein states constantly in the book, that if he would come clean about his creation, his testimony “would have been considered the ravings of a madman” (82). This allows the author to one up the fear factor of the novel, by persuading the readers to consider Frankenstein as a madman. Though Mary Shelley’s vague and elusive idea of galvanism, the reader is allowed to overly imagine an already frightening topic of the time period. Thus causing Frankenstein to be a truly terrifying novel of that time period.
(Oc)Cult Classics 