The language of nature is particularly prevalent throughout Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Though these descriptions of nature are often just the passing thoughts of Victor, sometimes certain natural themes are used for a specific purpose. Throughout Frankenstein, storms are used to foreshadow the terrible events that are soon to come in the life of Victor Frankenstein.

The first two storms described in the book foreshadow terrible events in that they transform Victor’s life in ways that eventually come back to haunt him. The initial storm is when Victor witnesses the oak tree being electrocuted by a strike of lightning. This storm leads to Victor pouring himself into the study of science and looking into galvanism. These studies lead to Victor’s scientific pursuits at Ingolstadt, and therefore to his creation of the creature which is eventually horrific for Victor. The next storm immediately precedes the scene in which the creature is given life. Though Victor is looking forward to the successful animation of his creation, the life he gives to the creature turns what he thought was a masterpiece into his worst nightmare.

After Victor finds out that his brother William was murdered, he hurriedly travels back to Switzerland. On his way home, when he is nearing Geneva, a storm passes through the mountains and thunders around Victor as he mourns for his late brother. As the storm is reaching its peak, it sends down a strike of lightning that illuminates the creature for Victor to see. This leads Victor to make the connection of the creature’s coincidental presence to the recent murder of his brother, and drive him to hate the creature (and himself for giving the creature life) even more ardently. When Victor wanders to Chamounix and Montavert in an attempt to get over the contempt he feels toward himself after the deaths of William and Justine, he encounters yet another storm as he is ascending the  mountain. When he reaches the summit, he encounters the creature who then tells Victor his life story and asks him to make him a female companion which leads Victor into a state of depression and disgust for himself until he destroys this new creation.

The next couple storms foreshadow the deaths of Victor’s closest companions. The first of these hits when Victor leaves Scotland to attempt to reunite with Henry Clerval. This storm takes him all the way to Ireland where yet another misfortune befalls him. He survives the terrible storm only to find Henry murdered by his creation.The next storm brought tragedy in the death of Victor’s bride and lifelong friend, Elizabeth. The storm starts right before Victor tells Elizabeth to go to sleep in the very room she is murdered in minutes later.

The last storm in the book occurs when Victor is chasing the creature through the arctic. Just as Victor is closing in on him, a storm hits and breaks up the ice and Victor loses his last chance for revenge. This storm leads to his debilitation and sickness which eventually leads to his death upon Walton’s ship. Though these storms could have all been coincidental, the continual placement of their descriptions show an undeniable connection to the terrible events in the life of Victor Frankenstein.

The rapid socialization of Frankenstein’s monster allows Shelley to critique her modern society through the lens of a tabula rasa. The description of the monster’s first forays into the world, including such scenes as the gradual differentiation of his senses (105-106) and his accidental burning of himself (106) firmly establish the monster as having a complete lack of any experience or inherent nature. With no meaningful cultural context to color his perceptions of the world, all of his emotions and reactions are brutally honest and fervent. Having experienced fear and brutalism in his encounter with the villagers (109) as well as tenderness and love in the interactions between Agatha and her father (110), the creature has been exposed to both sides of human nature.

This dichotomy in human behavior further troubles and confuses the creature upon the arrival of Safie, and the more formal education he then receives in history. The “stupendous genius and mental activity of the Grecians” is told in parallel with the “hapless fate of [America’s] original inhabitants.” These seemingly mutually exclusive realities inspire a sort of cognitive dissonance within the creature: “[Man] appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle, and at another as all that can be conceived as noble and godlike (122).”

The creature’s profound sensitivity gives a weight and sense of urgent abhorrence to the darker aspects of society that the average person views as simple realities of life. Concepts such as murder and violence are so repulsive to the creature that “for a long time [he] could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments…(122)” Because of the fact that he has no experience to dull his senses, he is able to approach the harsh realities of society such as murder, violence, and social inequality with a unique sense of suffering.

By giving the “wretched” creature these haunting insights, Shelley challenges the reader to truly empathize, and to recognize the true horror and wretchedness of those aspects of society we accept as immutable. Shelley gives the most profoundly human insights into the failures of mankind to the one character inherently lacking in humanity.

Victor Frankenstein of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein focuses highly on nature, and how his view of nature is affected by his mood or vice versa. His constant jump from being inspired by nature to not being capable of appreciating it makes it difficult for the reader to take Frankenstein seriously, and thus leads the reader to question his character. The unreliability and distrust in Frankenstein that is created can be seen as Shelley’s personal commentary on the exaggerated literature of Romantic writers of the time period and their resulting egocentrism.

Frankenstein often dramatizes his current mental state through lofty descriptions of the natural world around him; it appears to the reader that Frankenstein is either full of joy or despondent beyond recovery. After the death of his younger brother, he escapes into the mountains where he vacationed as a child and claims his surroundings fill him with a “sublime ecstasy, that [gives] wings to the soul, and [allows] it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy”. The use of the words “soar”, “light” and “joy” when discussing the soul alludes to heaven and angels, giving Frankenstein’s trip up the mountain a transcendent and biblical quality. This is similar to Romantic writers such as Wordsworth and Shelley, in that they compare nature and their overwhelmingly inspirational experiences in nature to God and the idea of the “sublime”. However, only a paragraph later Frankenstein’s entire outlook on nature shifts with his fresh bad mood. The scenery that Frankenstein had before compared to heaven transforms into a “sombre” place with “thick wreaths” of mist and a “dark sky”, or in other words a different and more ominous “sublime”. With this word being tossed around so frequently by Frankenstein to mean both amazing and awful, the reader is given the impression that he is not to be trusted. His changeable attitude largely reflects the writings of Romantic writers such as Shelley’s husband, and helps to highlight the egocentrism involved with Romanticism. The highly dramatized use of such strong polar opposite emotions exudes a sense of egotism within the character and, as Shelley’s novel implies, the author as well. Victor is certainly a self centered character, made obvious through his constant concern that the monster is going to kill him despite the large amount of evidence that it is the people he is close to that are in trouble. Ultimately Victor Frankenstein embodies an almost laughable amount of egotism and changeability that the reader can connect to Romantic writers.

In conclusion, Frankenstein’s inability to figure out what he truly feels, as represented through his view of nature, highlights the ridiculousness of self centeredness and the sensationalization nature and everything that is both beautiful and terrifying that is the center of Romantic writing.

Chapter II of Volume II in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein features a dramatic encounter between Victor Frankenstein and his creation. While the creature’s desperate plea for an opportunity to articulate his story suggests his lack of power and subordinate status, the creature’s utilization of persuasive and complex language through the integration of a rhetorical question and Biblical allusions not only reveals an underlying accusatory and commanding tone, but also exemplifies a shift in power roles.

As the creature implores and “[e]ntreat[s]” Victor “to hear” him so that he might be understood rather than unfairly misjudged and undeservingly subjected to rejection, it appears that the creature assumes a position of inferiority through this act of begging. However, the creature’s command for Victor to “be calm,” quiet, and open-minded “before…giv[ing] vent to [his] hatred” not only discloses how the creature immediately takes control of the conversation by giving orders, implying that any and all requests should be understood as demands, but also reveals the creature’s accusing tone. In presuming that Victor will respond with antipathy, the creature insinuates that a hostile nature is typical of Victor. As a result, Victor is cast in an unfavorable and negative light. While the creature is willing to return to his innate “mild” and “virtuous” self despite all that he has endured, the expectation that his creator will react solely with resentment distinguishes Victor as ranking below himself by quality of character.

In addition to the creature’s physical dominance of “superior” height, strength, power, and skill that he instructs Victor to “remember” and recognize, belittling Victor as if he is a child that needs to be told the obvious, the creature also gains the upper hand intellectually. Unlike Victor who converses with short and curt statements, the creature, displaying an eloquence and mastery of the human language, confronts Victor with an elaborate speech and a rhetorical question. Analogous to a leading question in court, a query proposed to suggest a particular answer, a verbal response is not required to disclose and confirm Victor’s desire to both “increase” the “suffer[ing]” of and inflict further “misery” upon his creation. Through this rhetoric, the creature not only maintains command of the encounter, but also shapes his speech to both accuse Victor of cruelty as well as highlight him as an evildoer.

Furthermore, by comparing himself to both the “fallen angel” and Adam, the creature continues to rise to a position of superiority. The creature elevates himself to a divine status greater than that of man like Victor as well as discloses that he was spurned without reason. Unlike the angel that was cast out of heaven for a “misdeed,” the creature, despite his “benevolent” nature, was “irrevocably excluded” from society without engaging in any wrongdoing. The creature, placing blame, reveals that he was “trample[d] upon” and despised not only by the human race, but also by the one individual that “owest” him most, his creator. While God made Adam in the likeness of Himself, instilling life and love into a being considered to be perfect, Victor proves unable to love a thing so frightening and ugly. Impulsively abandoning his creation and child, his Adam, out of disgust, Victor denies the creature of “clemency[,] affection[,]” and endearment; exemplifying that he is not only lesser than God, but also lesser than a mortal parent. As a result of continual neglect and failure to fulfill his duty as the creator, Victor has lost control of all outcomes regarding his creation and child. The creature clearly indicates that he is no longer the inferior party.

There was a passage at the tail end of the third chapter of volume three that shed a particular light on the storytelling methods of Victor Frankenstein. On page 175, right after he’s destroyed the female half-creature, Victor gives his audience (Walton) an assessment of his situation: “I had resolved in my own mind, that to create another like the fiend I had first made would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness.” This statement serves to complicate interpretations of Frankenstein’s moral leanings throughout Shelley’s novel. Throughout the course of his wanderings, Victor has made it evident that his family is not necessarily a top priority. He abandons his house for years at a time, returning to Geneva in times of grief to indulge in his reclusiveness in the company of his family, then fleeing again. When he does exhibit concern for them, it is directly related to their proximity to creature-induced danger. Victor and his creature are at the epicenter of his focus; everything else falls away in importance by orders of magnitude. He emotes this very clearly and lengthily on page 90 of the novel.

The fact that the story is told by Frankenstein automatically puts the reader at a disadvantage in respect to authenticity. What this particular line does is demonstrate Victor’s attempts to undermine some of his accountability for the creation of the monster and cast himself in a more noble light. Returning to his selfishness outlined previously, the interpretation of egotism comes from the same chapter as the quotation. In the first two pages of chapter three, Frankenstein ruminates on all the possible ways that the two creations could/would wreak havoc on the world, and in doing so strips the monster(s) of all of their autonomy and places himself in knowing superiority over them. His ego feeds into his hatred and solidifies his abandonment of his task, and when he comes to rationalizing away his decision, he flips the logic of his dilemma in a way that seems reasonable at face value. Going back to the quote, we see that Victor treats the fulfillment of his promise to his creation as the ultimate selfishness; how can this be so, when we’ve seen so much of the pain of the creature and the danger he poses to Victor and his own family? It would make sense to the reader that creating two of these “monsters” in order to secure safety would be selfish, but Victor’s denial of his creation’s capacity for compassion/reason/civility as part of his justification for this idea continues to strengthen the guiding hand Victor has on the reader’s interpretation of his own virtuosity.

In Chapter 1 of Volume III, on pages 157 and 158, Victor refers to his predicament as his “slavery”. I already thought that was an interesting concept until, not accidentally, the creation later (when lamenting over Frankenstein’s body) refers to itself as a “slave, not the master” (p.222).

I realized Shelley was perhaps trying to say something here. So, I started thinking about how she framed the distinct parallels between the creator and the creation:

Victor

A scientist haunted by a creature of his own design. He doesn’t understand what he has made, or the power he wields, and it is his downfall. A seemingly complex character, he is really quite shallow and one-dimensional; with all his good intentions, he does not think of the consequences of his actions (like just abandoning the creation OR like sending Elizabeth upstairs alone on their wedding night… HELLO?!). He expunges his energy into making the creature only to abandon it the moment the spark of life appears – realizing too late what he had done. The only attempt at civility with or understanding the creature is when it regales its side of the story – in a brief moment of clarity, even Victor realizes that what the creation asks for is not unreasonable. But certainly, after what had taken place at this point, it was normal for him to be suspicious. However, not taking responsibility for his actions ultimately leads to his entire bloodline being wiped out.

The creation

Abandoned at birth for reasons it didn’t understand, it was forced to learn the ways of the world alone only to be shunned by humans. Upon hearing its side of the story in Volume II, the reader cannot help but to feel sympathetic for the creation (especially with the loss of the French family he had hoped to call friends). He is lonely, and there is not much else in the world that can make one more miserable. Its gruesome looks make it impossible for him to be near humanity and its superficiality. It realizes inner beauty is useless and that’s all it has. A mate, created equal, is its only hope. Think of the creation like a child; in the simplest terms, he threw a tantrum when Victor destroys the second creation and exacts un-ending revenge until Frankenstein’s demise.

 The Second Creation (Hypothetically)

It was never brought up verbally whether or not the second creation would even have reacted favorably to the union. Frankenstein surmises briefly at what her reaction might be at the beginning of Chapter 3, Volume 3. I think it could have been a real argument for Victor not to make it; the creature, unless angry, seems reasonable. If the second creation had come into existence, a whole other dynamic of master and slave could arguably be drawn. The second creation would be a slave to the first – existing only to satiate his needs. The possibility of ever separating from him seems low.  If it were to be created the same as the first, would it not have consciousness and the ability to think for itself? What if it did not want that? What if, being equally miserable, it asked Victor for the same thing, being unhappy with the first creation? The creature would have most certainly reacted unfavorably to this outcome and then where would Victor be? To me, this was a realistic cyclical possibility that was only briefly addressed.

Once the master creator, Frankenstein now sees the creation as his master, forcing him into making a mate; Interestingly, the creature always sees Victor as his master, the only one capable of making him happy. They depend on each other but are fueled by too many emotions and too much misery to see it.

“And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great purpose?”

The first volume of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein takes the viewpoint of Robert Walton and Victor Frankenstein, two different men but eerily similar in their desire for glory. Robert seeks fame in geographical exploration while Victor dedicates himself to scientific discovery. Although they start their goals with enough ability, their journeys become fraught with hardship. By turning unbridled ambition into unexpected consequences, the author points out the problem of male hubris.

Coming from similar pasts, both of the male characters have tried to display their importance to the world. In his early years, Robert studied day and night, set his eyes on voyage, and dedicated [himself] to this “great enterprise.” Robert believes that he will bring “inestimable benefit” by discovering the passage near the North Pole and writes that “success shall crown my endeavors.” The constant use of “mine” and “I” in the letters reaffirm his extreme self-confidence. Similarly, Victor often refers to his own abilities as he states, “myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter.” Like Robert, Victor also had studied for “days and nights of incredible fatigue.” From isolation to ego, Shelley shows how the characters’ desire for attention blinds them to the consequences of their own actions.

For Victor, his downfall was apparent. The story he tells to Robert is filled with instances of dedicating, achieving, and pursuing the impossible. Yet, tied up in the glory, his final creation had only caused woe to his family through “the work of [his] thrice-accursed hands.” In the letters, Robert states that his dangers were only minor. However, the reader has a limited perspective. It is possible that since he jokes about the “evil forebodings” said by his sister, Robert is diminishing the problems he encountered throughout his journey. Still, according to him, Robert had spent six years since his undertaking and “voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep,” which shows that he had suffered terribly for his pursuits.

While characters such as Justine could be called weak-willed, Shelley’s portrayal of Victor and Robert show that the the men, too, face problems of their own doing. In Frankenstein, Robert and Victor lead the story, but their egos make them fallible.