An Unholy Mess

“Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice. But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept and grasped to death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing…You hate me, but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.”

-p 210

While mulling over the denouement of Shelley’s Frankenstein, I was finding it incredibly difficult to place sympathy with either Victor or his creation. Both are flawed in nature and morality; neither one is truly heroic. Victor is primarily driven by his senses of ambition and pride. He selfishly risks all those dear to him in favor of accomplishing his goals first. In the end, it is this obsession with ambition and pride which leads to the demises of his loved ones and, ultimately, of himself. The monster, on the other hand, seems to be benevolent at first. However, he becomes hardened by rejection and self-loathing. While this would initially evoke sympathy, his murderous acts of revenge turn off any possible sympathy that could have been devoted to him. In the end, the audience can only look on, shaking their heads as both beings blindly succumb to their tragic flaws in a vicious cycle of destruction that only ends in their mutual demises.

Loss of Goodness

“She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her head hanging down and her pale and distorted features half covered by her hair.”

-p 186

And with Elizabeth’s death ultimately comes the death of benevolence. One of my group’s themes is that of benevolence. Victor and his creation both have encountered several people who displayed benevolence toward them. In the end, however, these people’s benevolence always disappeared. In the monster’s experience, the family’s benevolence dissipated with the monster’s revealing of himself. In Victor’s case, however, benevolence disappears from his life. In each case, as benevolence disappears from their life, the monster and Victor choose to decrease their own benevolence. It seems that Victor’s and the monster’s benevolent feelings only originated from others’ benevolence. This differs from Henry, Elizabeth, and Victor’s father, whose benevolence came from their own kindness. Victor and the monster only mirrored benevolence, yet their internal intentions are not rooted in good.

A Moralistic Sense (Foil)

“[Clerval] came. Alas, how great was the contrast between us! He was alive to every new scene, joyful when he saw the beauties of the setting sun, and more happy when he beheld it rise and recommence a new day…In truth, I was occupied by gloomy thoughts and neither saw the descent of the evening star nor the golden sunrise reflected in the Rhine.”

-p 147

This passage aptly portrays the foil that Clerval serves to Frankenstein in each of his interactions with him. During their trip to Scotland, Henry constantly rejoices in nature’s beauty and revels in being alive. Victor, on the other hand, is a dismal wreck, unable to see beauty due to his morbid obligation to his creation. This is not, however, the only instance in which Henry serves as a foil to Victor. Frankenstein earlier commented on Henry’s fascination with morality rather than science. He seems to speak of Henry’s preference with bemusement at the apparent foolishness of choosing morality over science. Yet it is this lack of morality which led to Victor’s horrific predicament. Indeed, Henry’s presence emphasizes even more Victor’s sinfulness and flawed nature which created such a miserable situation. Shelley uses Henry to prove to the reader how flawed and foolish Victor's endeavors were without morality.

Any Questions? (Rhetorical Question)

“And now, with the world before me, whither should I bend my steps?...How was I to direct myself?”
-p 133

One of the creature’s more interesting mannerisms in telling his story is his penchant for asking rhetorical questions. Mary Shelley writes the creature’s monologue in this style to increase reader sympathy. This occurs because the creature repeatedly asks Victor these questions to appeal to his own sense of sympathy. The monster is not only telling his story; he is pleading for Victor’s understanding. He is hoping that by asking these questions, Victor will understand the monster’s sense of a lack of direction and helplessness. He hopes that Victor will sympathize with the monster’s lack of guidance and mercifully provide the monster with a benevolent protector. In doing so, the creature also evokes sympathy from the reader, who also is asked these same rhetorical questions. The unique aspect of the frame story allows Shelley to apply these rhetorical questions not only in a pragmatic view which carries function within the plot, but also evokes sympathy from the reader.

Through New Eyes (Theme)

“These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous, and magnificent, yet so vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and godlike…For a long time I could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased and I turned away with disgust and loathing.”

-p 114

Mary Shelley seems to prefer to reveal a great portion of her thoughts on human life through the thoughts and struggles of the monster. Frankenstein’s creation seems to be used to express Shelley’s themes particularly well due to his relative innocence. He was just born about one year ago; he has only one year’s worth of experience and one year’s worth of understanding of human nature. It would do Shelley little good to convey her message simply through another human; inevitably, that human would contradict their own reflections on humanity because he is, first and foremost, human. Yet by imposing such themes on the monster, Shelley is able to ponder human nature through fresh eyes. Frankenstein’s monster dwells on mankind’s duality of conscience for the first time and in a way that most humans, who are used to this conflict, would not be able to think. Frankenstein’s creation provides Shelley with the only way she could properly convey her themes concerning the paradox of man.

To Be Human Again (Situational Irony)

“ ‘Abhorred monster! Fiend that thou art! The tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil! You reproach me with your creation; come on, then, that I may extinguish the spark which I so negligently bestowed.’

[…]

He easily eluded me and said, ‘Be calm! I entreat you to hear me before you give vent to your hatred on my devoted head. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery?’ ”

-p 95

I found this passage to exemplify a rather odd case of situational irony. In this confrontation between Victor and his monstrous creation, one would assume that the monster would not actually be able even to communicate with Victor, let alone express human emotions. Yet surprisingly, the monster has learned to speak quite eloquently and seems to express a great sense of understanding of Victor’s rage, as well deep sorrow and misery. Victor, on the other hand, would be expected to be the more human of the two. Instead, however, Victor seems to be possessed by a wild rage against his creation. He makes no attempts to understand his monster, instead savagely threatening to commit the same crime which his creation had committed against his brother. Yet in being consumed by this blind rage, Victor seems to lose some of his humanity and compassion. This loss, combined with the monster’s newfound humanity, creates a reversal of expectation toward this scene. In a clever twist, the human acts like a monster, and the monster displays his humanity. By writing thus, Shelley poses an interesting question as to what exactly identifies man as being human: simple biological status, or true compassion and emotion?

Church and State

“ ‘I did confess, but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might obtain absolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than all my other sins…Ever since I was condemned, my confessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, until I almost began to think that I was the monster that he said I was. He threatened excommunication and hell fire in my last moments if I continued obdurate.’ ”

-p 83

This passage seems to make a bit of a political and religious message about Mary Shelley’s culture. Shelley portrays the judicial system as one rather overbearing in nature. Justine’s interrogators, who now believe they have sufficient proof of Justine’s guilt, intimidate and threaten her savagely in order to get any sort of confession. Finally, completely broken down and dispirited, Justine lies and confesses guilt, despite her full knowledge that she is in fact innocent. What perhaps is even more startling than this reflection, however, is Shelley’s observation on the Church. It is not a mere city official who fiercely questions Justine; it is a priest, a “confessor” called in to hear her confession. This representative of the Church, who is supposed to offer consolation and peace of mind to Justine, instead reduces her to tears with his accusations and threats. Shelley seems to be hinting at a veiled attack on the Church of her time; I’m a bit curious as to how her contemporary readers took this criticism.

Murder!!!! (The Extra Exclamation Points Are Completely Necessary)

“A flash of lightning illuminated the object and discovered its shape plainly to me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect, more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy demon to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be (I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner did that idea cross my imagination than I became convinced of its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree for support.”

-p 73

I must admit I’m intrigued by this particular passage. I was rather perplexed initially by the relevance of William’s murder. Now, however, it appears that it was Frankenstein’s monster that actually killed him. Though we do not yet know the reason for this murder, I find it interesting that it was Victor’s brother whom the monster killed. Of all the possible people the monster could have killed, it was his creator’s brother. More significantly, I feel like this will create a deeper sense of despair and regret to Victor’s demeanor. He essentially brought about his brother’s death; I highly doubt he will be able to live well with that on his conscience. I’m interested to see how Victor lives with this truth in his heart, and if he will attempt to hunt down the monster.

The Game's Afoot! (Personification)

“Sometimes, on the very brink of certainty, I failed; yet still I clung to the hope which the next day or the next hour might realize. One secret which I alone possessed was the hope to which I had dedicated myself; and the moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places.”

-p 53

For a scientist, Frankenstein is exceptionally adept at eloquent speech. In this passage, Shelley includes two separate cases of personification which work together to create a rather primal portrayal of a hunt. The moon appears as an indifferent onlooker, watching Frankenstein as he desperately and hopelessly attempts to defy nature in his creation. I find it interesting that Frankenstein describes his endeavor not as a pursuit, but as a hunt. If it were merely a pursuit, then Frankenstein would simply seek to attain the secrets of nature and capture it for his own use. Instead, his endeavor is a hunt: he does not seek simply to capture the secrets of nature; he seeks to kill nature itself. Although he does not realize it at the time—and to be honest, I doubt he realizes it even as he speaks—the true meaning of these words gives a sense of foreshadowing to the ungodliness of his scientific pursuit. Frankenstein does not simply seek to understand nature; he seeks to completely and utterly destroy it.

Talk to Me (First Person Point of View)

“I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counselors and syndics, and my father had filled several public situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business…As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot refrain from relating them.”

-p 31

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein employs a fairly unique version of the first person point of view. A great portion of this uniqueness rests in the interesting structure of the novel, which starts in the form of a series of letters and then continues as a frame story told by Victor Frankenstein. Though the letters and the frame story are told by different narrators, however, the style of point of view is actually the same in both structures. Robert Walton, the writer of the initial letters, writes to his sister with complete knowledge of who his audience is. Because of this, he often writes with an extremely relaxed, conversational tone. He even goes so far as to directly talk to the audience at times. In a similar way, the structure of the frame story allows Frankenstein to speak directly with Walton. He often poses rhetorical questions to Walton and even comments to him about the way in which he is telling his story. In writing in this way, Shelley creates a uniquely personal and intimate relationship with her readers. Few authors acknowledge their audience for fear that it will detract from the work, yet Shelley devises a way to use this style to her advantage.

Well, That's a Crummy Ending

“Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”

-p 298

Those last sentences may make up the most depressing end of a novel that I’ve read. Orwell ends his novel rather abruptly, with a quick and painful shot to the gut. Orwell jumps from Winston’s submission to the Party straight to a scene some time later, showing Winston as a blubbery, pathetic shell of the independent man he once was. The reader can only observe in shocked disgust as Winston actually cries with joy at Oceania’s probably falsified victory over Eurasia. Winston has become completely in line with Party ideals, yet in doing so, the physical regression in his body is evident. Winston has become much more bloated and, to be honest, seems to have a somewhat slimy sense about him. Yet he is, as far as his now limited mind can tell, extremely happy over his ability to beat his free will into submission. With the absolute defeat of his protagonist, Orwell leaves a sobering message with his readers: the society of 1984 must be prevented, for if it does occur, no man will be able to stop it, no matter how resolute. Man will lose.

Betrayed!

“Mr. Charrington came into the room. The demeanor of the black-uniformed men suddenly became more subdued. Something had also changed in Mr. Charrington’s appearance…It occurred to Winston that for the first time in his life he was looking, with knowledge, at a member of the Thought Police.”

-p 224

I must admit, this little plot twist greatly surprised me. It did not surprise me that the Thought Police eventually caught Winston and Julia. Considering how few pages were left in the novel, it seemed unlikely that enough plot development would occur unless they were arrested. What did surprise me, however, was the fact that Mr. Charrington was the leader of the Thought Police squad. When we were first introduced to Mr. Charrington, I suspected that he would play the role of a spiritual guide and counselor, similar to that presented in a hero cycle. This guess was seemingly affirmed by Charrington’s support of Winston’s purchase of the upper room. This room, I thought, would allow Winston to gain a stronger belief in the humanity that he still held inside him. Instead, Charrington was actually a villain, not a guide. This reversal of expectation reflects one of Orwell’s favorite tools in this novel: like O’Brien, it is Winston’s supposed friends who turn out to be his greatest enemies. In Orwell’s world, Winston learns quickly that he can trust no one.

A Breaking Point (Climax)

“The mask was closing on his face. The wire brushed his cheek. And then—no, it was not relief, only hope, a tiny fragment of hope. Too late, perhaps too late. But he suddenly understood that in the whole world there was just one person to whome he could transfer his punishment—one body that he could thrust between himself and the rats. And he was shouting frantically, over and over:

‘Do it to Julia! Do it to Julia! Not me! Julia! I don’t care what you do to her. Tear her face off, strip her to the bones. Not me! Julia! Not me!’ ”

-p 286

This passage details the climax of Orwell’s 1984. Throughout the novel, Winston has constantly fought with his supposedly unorthodox ideals, beliefs that actually express humanity and a sense of morality. These beliefs fly directly in the face of Party ideals, and Winston tries desperately to hold to his beliefs while hiding them from the Party. As the novel progress, however, it becomes clearer and clearer that such rebellious thoughts simply cannot be kept by a man who expects to live much longer. Yet even when Winston is within the Ministry of Love, Winston still maintains his dwindling beliefs that love, compassion, and humanity are superior to any Party tents. This belief is evident when he breaks down and begins shouting Julia’s name and calling her “his love.” Even when Winston wholeheartedly attempts to lose his beliefs in humanity, he is unable to shake his morals. When he faces the rats, however, his own savage sense of self-preservation takes dominance: he sheds his loyalty to Julia and, in doing so, sheds his hopes in humanity. In this climactic scene, Winston loses the fight to protect his hopes for humanity and effectively succumbs to the inhuman savagery that the Party holds dear.

He Sees You When You're Sleeping...(Metonymy)

“ ‘Does Big Brother exist?’

‘Of course he exists. The Party exists. Big Brother is the embodiment of the Party.’

‘Does he exist in the same way as I exist?’

‘You do not exist,’ said O’Brien.”

-p 259

I thought that I should take the opportunity presented in this passage to discuss a rather obvious utilization of metonymy in Orwell’s 1984. This case of metonymy, which uses the figure of Big Brother as equivalent with the Party and its ideals, is different from most cases, however. Normally with metonymy, the object which is being used in lieu of the original object is actually real. As this passage hints at, however, Big Brother is not, in fact, real. While O’Brien does not actually state that there is no living Big Brother, his way of automatically equating Big Brother’s existence with the existence of the Party indicates that O’Brien knows Big Brother as a person does not actually exist. Yet despite this, in many ways O’Brien is correct in saying that Big Brother exists. Big Brother is, as O’Brien says, “the embodiment of the Party;” he is the personification of the Party, the figure which all people both fear and adore. That fear and adoration is frighteningly real. Those emotions expressed toward Big Brother—toward the party—are very much real. In this sense, Big Brother is real, as the Party has caused such strong emotions toward Big Brother that he might as well be real. As the Party philosophy likes to muse, the people believe Big Brother exists; therefore, Big Brother is in their midst.

A Not So Fiery Rhetoric (Rhetoric)

“The book fascinated him, or more exactly it reassured him. In a sense it told him nothing that was new, but that was part of the attraction. It said what he would have said, if it had been possible for him to set his scattered thoughts in order. It was the product of a mind similar to his own, but enormously more powerful, more systematic, less fear-ridden.”

-p 200

In his 1984, Orwell uses a rather unique technique to express a large part of his philosophy. Instead of having his protagonist Winston express his political views, Orwell includes passages from a secret book by Emmanuel Goldstein. In his writing, Goldstein tells of the main principles behind Oceania’s adoption of Ingsoc. Goldstein reasons that the Party developed as a result of growing fears about atomic warfare. According to Orwell, the nations of the world soon realized the potential stability from continuous yet controlled warfare, which uses up nations’ supplies, limits excess wealth available to all economic classes, and therefore ensures that the middle and lower classes do not rebel against the upper class.

Based on Winston’s reaction to the book, it seems that Goldstein’s writing is a perfect example of rhetoric. It is through this rhetoric that Orwell attempts to persuade the reader to think as he thinks. He has already convinced the reader that the society which he has created is completely undesirable. The reader has long come to the conclusion that whatever Orwell states caused this world to occur must be avoided at all costs. It is not until Goldstein’s rhetoric, however, that the reader finally discovers the cause of this dystopia: atomic warfare of the 1940s has ravaged the world. Considering Orwell wrote this novel in the 1940s, it is clear that Orwell is employing this rhetoric to attempt to convince his readers of the danger of atomic warfare and adjusted moralities.