Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, published anonymously in 1818, was originally thought to have been written by a man, however even though it is in fact written by one of the most talented female authors in history, the novel’s material parallels the work of Mary Shelley’s male literary peers: William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Frankenstein, bursting with romanticist themes closely mirrors Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” and Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” and “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” Together, these three poems hold the foundations for Mary Shelley’s tale of man versus nature by influencing the novelist with themes of solitude, dream interpretation, and reverence for nature.
First, in Chapter X of Frankenstein, Victor spends the day roaming through the valley near the city of Chamounix and, deciding to climb to the summit of Montanvert, says, “I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and ever moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. […] The sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect of solemnising my mind, and causing me to forget the passing cares of life” (Shelley 95). This passage, when compared to Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey,” directly mirrors the beginning of the poem’s second stanza:
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and ‘mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; (Wordsworth lines 22-28)
Shelley’s illustration of Victor parallels with the speaker in Wordsworth’s poem. Both men speak of their first moments with the landscape: Victor remembers the emotions that the view of the glacier produced when he was younger, and Wordsworth’s speaker affirms that he indeed remembers his surroundings from earlier years. Furthermore, both men attribute relaxing memories to their experiences in these two solitary places, proclaiming how they are thankful that the memory of nature has pacified their minds in their separate and private times of emotional fragility.
Equally powerful is Shelley’s reference to “Tintern Abbey,” which describes Clerval’s love for nature and positive disposition: “The sounding cataract / Haunted him like a passion: […] Their colors and their forms, were then to him / An appetite; a feeling, and a love, / That had no need of a remoter charm” (Shelley 156; Wordsworth lines 76-81). Through this passage, Clerval is presented as a man who enjoys the simplicities of nature, and breathes them in with the fervor of a young boy. The romanticist notion of love of nature is manifest within Clerval, and he therefore stands opposite to Victor who represents the misuse of science.
Second, Shelley’s novel draws on themes of dreams and the subconscious mind which are seen in Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem “Kubla Khan.” Coleridge’s poem, a dream itself, describes a “lifeless ocean” where voices can be heard “prophesying war!” (Coleridge lines 28, 30). Comparably, in Frankenstein, following the successful reanimation of the creature, Victor falls into a sleep: “I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth […] I embraced her; but her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms” (Shelley 55-56). In addition to this startling image, he also dreams that Elizabeth’s lips turn the “hue of death” and sees “the grave worms crawling in the folds of the flannel” (Shelley 56). Victor’s dream can be seen as a “lifeless ocean” where waves of images of his lover and mother morph into horrific images of death. These haunting episodes also represent the subconscious warning that Victor feels as a result of his attempted mastery of nature. Victor’s dream foretells of the war which is to come between the creature and Victor, which unfortunately includes the deaths of Victor’s family.
Additionally, the moment Victor awakens to the reality that he has created a monster, he describes him as having “dull yellow” eyes and “lustrous black” hair (Shelley 55). This passage, juxtaposed with Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan” shows a parallel between the creature and a male figure in the poem: “His flashing eyes! His floating hair!” (Coleridge 50). Both figures represent something abhorred and frightening, for Victor immediately runs from his helpless creation, and the lines “Beware! Beware!” are found just before the physical description of the poetical male figure (Coleridge 49).
Finally, Coleridge’s masterpiece, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” holds countless parallels to Shelley’s Frankenstein, and carries with it a moral message discouraging attempts at dominating nature. Even before Robert Walton encounters Victor Frankenstein, he makes reference to Coleridge’s poem: “I am going to unexplored regions, to ‘the land of mist and snow;’ but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not be alarmed for my safety, or if I should come back to you as worn and woeful as the ‘Ancient Mariner?’” (Shelley 16-17). Coincidentally, Walton mentions being a mariner just before Victor, the parallel to the Mariner, is seen in the ice below. This mirror image between the Mariner and Victor Frankenstein is seen on page 57 as Victor wanders blindly through the streets of Ingolstadt. Shelley inserts a piece of Coleridge’s poem to draw attention to their similarities to each other:
Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread. (Shelley 57; Coleridge lines 447-452)
Shelley identifies Victor with the Mariner; Victor has attempted to master nature by creating an abomination that has no equal in nature, and the Mariner has slain an innocent animal that posed no threat to himself or his crew. Consequently, both men are sought by a fiend, which is in both cases the guilt of an unforgivable act. Victor is running from his unnatural creation, and the Mariner is unable to escape his murder of the albatross.
Lastly, after Victor has vehemently urged captain and crew to push onward, Walton reports, “The die is cast; I have consented to return if we are not destroyed” (Shelley 212). Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” depicts Death and Life-In-Death casting die for the life of the Mariner. Life-In-Death wins the match, and the Mariner is forced to live in anguish and bear the burden of his sins rather than die and escape his guilt. Similarly, Walton has “cast” his die and chosen to return home and therefore save the lives of his crew and himself; however, he faces the torture of Life-In-Death, for he must endure the failure of his own ambitions.
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, influenced by Wordsworth’s and Coleridge’s individual poetical works proves to be a long-lasting testament to romanticism, drawing on elements of solitude, subconscious influences, and the power of nature. Through the influence of these two poets, Mary Shelley’s novel becomes more than a work of fiction; it stands by itself as a powerful commentary on the nature of the human race, not only by reestablishing moral codes, but by exemplifying the need for self-awareness and natural law.
(25 October 2010)
Frankenstein has long been one of my favorite books. Back when I worked at the health insurance company, in the latter days when I was no longer able to disguise my contempt for the whole endeavour and openly bucked company policy by reading at my desk (among other things - honestly, if I was wearing pants it was a good day), I kept a number of books on a makeshift "shelf" composed of ritually desecrated DB/P manuals, copious staples, and a gross of coffee stirrers I compulsively stole from the break room, and Frankenstein was one of the few books that was consistently there.
ReplyDeleteI'd go through about two or three books a day, but I kept coming back to Frankenstein. I idolized the Creature, seeing much of who I was and who I wanted to be within him, and simultaneously loathed Victor and his cowardice. He possessed a power once reserved for God, but lacked the strength to wield it. His sin was not "playing God", but, rather, letting his humanity interfere with his godhood. Likewise, the Creature was a great Hero, seeking vengeance on the Creator who dared to rebuke the Creation for the way in which he himself had made it.
One of the other books that had frequent purchase upon that shelf was Paradise Lost (I rarely managed to get past the first handful of books, though. After that it just became too...Jesus-y), a book whose infernal protagonist possesses many of the same qualities; a spurned creation that seeks vengeance upon its prideful creator by destroying that which he most loves (a discussion for another time is my claim that the Big L is the greatest tragic hero in all of Western literature).
A common theme in some of Byron's works, especially Cain, was God being beholden to his creation, his abdication of that responsibility, and the scorn visited upon him for his abandonment. In fact, Lord Byron had spent time with Mary Shelley and her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley shortly before she wrote Frankenstein, and was actually inspired by their discussion of Giovanni Aldini's experiments with galvanism (specifically, there was a scientific movement at the time that believed that, in the absence of destruction of physical structures and decay, electricity could be used to reanimate the dead. Aldini even went so far as to go "on tour" demonstrating the concept by shoving live electric wires up a corpse's ass - literally - in an attempt to revive them. Needless to say, it never worked).