Novel: Frankenstein

Frankenstein by: Mary Shelley

I have read Frankenstein once before back in sophomore year of high school and one thing, out of many, stood out to me. As one experiences life (whether it be growing up, heartache, betrayal, life-understanding, etc.) the story of Frankenstein changes. Since 2010, my views, thoughts and mindset towards this novel have completely skewed in the opposite direction and because of this, I can understand and see both hidden and obvious stories within this reading. I have come from sympathizing with the doctor to sympathizing with the creation.

I used to believe Dr. Frankenstein’s creation was a mistake, a killing machine and most of all: a waste of effort. Nonetheless, after maturing within just a few years, I have come to see the reasons as to why this creation “Frankenstein” did the things that he did. It’s clear to see now how this creature only wanted what the rest of society wants: love. Frankenstein craves the attention of his creator just as a child obsesses over the love (or even lack of love) of their parents. This creature begins to realize the social views of the time-period and how an outer appearance of someone apparently determines their inner-self as well. Frankenstein is quickly labeled “monster” due to the abnormality of his physical being and after being shunned, it’s no surprise that he became hostile. It’s only logical to rebel against these views and his actions proved this. The unfortunate events that occurred towards the end of the story where not necessarily monstrous but actually humane. To me, the creation’s actions could be translated into the mocking of the townspeople but especially the abandonment of his creator.

Throughout the story Frankenstein is constantly confused about who, or rather what, he really is. He explains that he is in the middle of heaven and hell, human and demonic, cursed and appreciative. The realm in which Frankenstein’s mind is staggered across could be easily settled by saying “he is just a monster”.  Frankenstein acted more humane than the townspeople did. He actually cared and was interested in whom a person was inside rather than what they looked like on the outside.  But after being rejected so many times, he eventually snapped. I believe Mary Shelley’s hidden message is that the person next to you could be suffering internally as a “human” just as much as Frankenstein suffered as a “monster”.