Friday, August 19, 2011

Irony in Frankenstein

The word “Frankenstein” brings about images of a stiff, moaning, green zombie with screws in his neck, a square head, dark hair, and nothing but killing and terror running through his feeble brain.  While this terrifying appearance may be a bit similar to the real thing, the monster in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is actually an eloquent being with a desire to learn and be loved.  This example of irony is just one of many found in Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein.  Initially a response to a horror story challenge by her neighbor, Lord Byron, Frankenstein soon became a novel that many have enjoyed throughout the years.  In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley crafts a tale layered with irony and plot twists that appealed to me as a reader.

             Victor Frankenstein first appeared to me as a very complex character, but as I read on in Shelley’s novel, I realized that he is a man of repetition.  Multiple times throughout the novel, I observed Frankenstein doing things that made other people happy, but tortured him inside.  First, when Elizabeth and Victor visit Justine in jail after she has been sentenced to death for murdering William, Victor is forced to endure relentless feelings of sorrow and anguish because he knows that it was not Justine who murdered William, but rather, the monster that he created.  These emotions build up on Victor until he can no longer contain himself; Victor breaks down, gnashing his teeth and groaning in despair.  Unable to respond to Justine when she inquires about his actions, Elizabeth speaks for Victor, saying that he wholeheartedly believes that Justine is innocent.  To this, Justine responds, “how sweet is the affection of others to such a wretch as I am!  It removes more than half my misfortune; and I feel as if I could die in peace, now that my innocence is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin” (59).  While Justine has finally found peace from Victor’s actions, Victor tumbles into even more anguish since he knows that Justine is doomed to die because of his creation.  These opposite emotions are also found between Victor and his monster later in the novel.  On the summit of Montanvert, the monster demands that Victor create a female mate for him, or else the monster will kill Victor’s family and friends.  Desiring to preserve his family’s lives, Victor consents to the monster’s requests and begins creating a female for him.  During the second monster’s creation, Victor states, “I went to it in cold blood, and my heart often sickened at the work of my hands […] a ghastly grin wrinkled [the monster’s] lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me” (120-121).  The monster is overjoyed that his plan of revenge on Frankenstein is working, but the whole while, Victor is tortured by the fear and dread stemming from the work at his hands.  The feelings of agony and anguish that Frankenstein feels while his cohorts simultaneously feel happiness add another level of irony to the novel that makes the story even more enjoyable and interesting.

The contrast of Elizabeth and Victor’s personas is an ironic twist in Frankenstein that I really enjoyed.  Elizabeth is Victor’s cousin and eventual wife, adopted as a small child when her biological mother becomes destitute and cannot care for her any longer.  Throughout the story, they are very close, but ironically have polar personas.  From her appearance to her mannerisms, Elizabeth is characterized as an angelic character.  Victor first describes Elizabeth as, “a child fairer than a pictured cherub—a creature who seemed to shed radiance from her looks and whose form and motions were lighter than the chamois of the hills” (17).  This initial description automatically created, in my mind, a very positive image of Elizabeth; never did I question what Elizabeth did or thought.  She always had a seemingly Christian outlook on life; she does not even want to condemn the unknown murderer of her youngest brother.  However, Elizabeth’s angelic persona is contrasted with Victor Frankenstein’s almost demonic persona throughout the book, and this irony made the book even more enjoyable.  Victor Frankenstein, creator of the eloquent but murderous monster, possesses a dark, evil, crazed persona deep inside of him that is only truly shown for a moment during a period of insanity when Victor creates his monster.  At one of his lowest points, Victor says, “I shunned the face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; solitude was my only consolation—deep, dark, deathlike solitude” (61).  Rather than being with his family and friends when he needed them most, Victor chooses to shun all, and is consoled only by “deep, dark, deathlike solitude.”  Shelley’s mastermind creation of a dark romantic protagonist whose closest companion is practically an angel added irony to her novel that made it, for me, more than just a simple monster story, but a tale of disparity between good and evil.

             The stereotypical monster destroys, kills, and terrorizes those he comes in contact with, which is exactly what Frankenstein’s monster does.  However, the irony in the monster’s behavior rests in his motives; the only reason that he commits these horrible deeds is his desire to be loved.  Frankenstein’s monster has a hard start to life.  Having never seen his own fearsome appearance before, the monster innocently approaches people, but the people are so frightened by this eight-foot tall zombie that they run in terror.  This event occurs many times within the novel, specifically with: the man in the hut, in the village, and the people in the cottage that the monster studies.  Frankenstein’s monster does not know why these people are running from him, but he does feel isolation and abandonment because of it.  After a few days, while investigating papers he took from Frankenstein’s lab, the monster finds a journal of his creation.  The monster laments, “I sickened as I read.  ‘Hateful day when I received life!’ I exclaimed in agony.  “Accursed creator!  Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? […] My form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance.  Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred” (93).  By this point, the monster has realized that his grotesque appearance is the reason why he is so alone and hated.  Because others will not love him, this infuriates the monster, until he becomes dark and desires revenge on his creator, Frankenstein.  Later, the monster finds Frankenstein on the mountain and demands that Victor creates a female monster so that he may finally love and be loved.  With the threat of his family being murdered hanging over his head, Victor agrees and begins work on the female.  This delights the monster, and he keeps watch as Victor creates his love.  However, the monster’s life turns tragic as, “[Frankenstein] tore to pieces the thing on which [he] was engaged.  The wretch saw [Victor] destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness” (121).  Any hope the monster had for love is destroyed in two seconds.  This throws the monster into a rage of fury and anger; the monster then kills Victor’s best friend and wife as revenge.  Murder is not acceptable, but the monster’s troubled past and lack of love allowed me to feel sympathy for him.  The irony in the conflicting emotions I felt towards the monster added another subtle layer to Frankenstein that convinced me even more of Shelley’s skill as an author.

An excellent example of the use of irony, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a novel that I enjoyed reading.  Victor proved to be a simple character afflicted by agony, two close cousins actually were quite opposite people, and the monster only wanted to be loved.  These plot twists were interesting and made Frankenstein a novel that I really did want to finish reading.  However, I found that reading was a bit slow and bogged down by lengthy, repeated descriptions of Frankenstein’s misery.  There were also a few chapters where Victor explored through the Genevan valley, but no real plot motion occurred.  I felt that these descriptions, though very indicative of a Dark Romantic novel, were unnecessary and a tad boring.  If not for the irony sprinkled throughout the text, this would be just a mediocre monster story.  However, Shelley utilizes irony to its full extent, which makes this monster story one to be remembered over all the rest.  Overall, I thought that Frankenstein was a great novel, and Shelley’s use of irony was exemplary, and should be echoed by authors to come.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Response to Cannery Row

Mark Twain is considered to be one of the best authors of all time, and his novel "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" rightfully owns a place in the list of classics that will be enjoyed by many throughout time.  No one expects "Huck Finn," a tale about an adventurous boy's journey down the Mississippi River, to end up as an allegory of the post-civil war South, but that is exactly what happens.  John Steinbeck's "Cannery Row" is a novel akin to that of "Huck Finn"; at first, both novels seem like simple recollections of everyday events, but more detailed reading reveals philosophies, ideals, and criticisms of society straight from the author. Through characters with mental disease, stigmas against poor characters, and change after tragedy, Steinbeck is able to enunciate his own ideals and philosophies of how society should be.
Many of the characters in “Cannery Row” could potentially have mental illnesses, but Steinbeck specifically uses Hazel to advocate for those in society who are afflicted with mental handicaps.  Hazel lives with Mack and the boys in the Palace Flophouse, and shows some signs of mental illness throughout the novel, particularly when he is around Doc.  While out collecting starfish, Steinbeck notes that Hazel keeps asking Doc the same question repeatedly so that he can hear Doc speak.  However, Hazel does not pay attention to what it is that Doc is saying, but rather just how the words sound: “Hazel loved to hear conversation but he didn’t listen to words—just to the tone of conversation” (32).  This idea of only listening to how the words sound is also found at the end of the novel when Doc is reading from a book at the second party.  The fact that Hazel can hear the words but cannot put them together in his mind is a sign of mental disease.  Hazel also has issues with communication, another indicator of a mental handicap.  Doc grows tired of Hazel’s constant questions, so Doc asks him a question of his own.  This, however, distresses Hazel because, “he never forgot anything but he never bothered to arrange his memories” (34).  Many times, people who have mental handicaps will remember details of everything.  Hazel never likes being asked questions because his thoughts are plentiful, but unorganized.  Both of these examples are classic signs of mental illness, and create a sense of sympathy for Hazel.  I loved how Steinbeck allowed me to peer into the mind of a mentally handicapped man; I personally know a boy who is mentally handicapped, and he is often judged for it.  He is like a brother to me, so it is painful that people feel the need to treat him differently.  Steinbeck’s words encourage more understanding and patience to those who suffer from mental diseases.  This encouragement is not commonly found in classic literature, and so I was ecstatic to find it.
While society may view poor people as bums, Steinbeck turns the tables and shows that homeless and unfortunate people are the purest of heart, and their personalities are to be emulated.  Mack and the boys have no money, no families, and no true ambitions in life.  However, “[Mack and the boys] are the Virtues, the Graces, the Beauties of the hurried mangled craziness of Monterey and the cosmic Monterey where men in fear and hunger destroy their stomachs in the fight to secure certain food, where men hungering of love destroy everything loveable about them” (15).  In a society where people sell their souls to gain riches and fame, Mack and the boys are content with where they are and try to make the best of it.  They do not get caught up in the materialism of the world, and Steinbeck ironically creates them as the protagonists in celebration of their pure hearts.  Coincidentally, though the boys are humble and do not look for admiration and acknowledgement, Steinbeck still gives it to them through Doc.  Later in the novel, Doc notes, “all of our so-called successful men are sick men, with bad stomachs, and bad souls, but Mack and the boys are healthy and curiously clean” (142).  Doc then elaborates about how Mack and the boys are the purest of heart, and that these “bums” are ironically better people than those who are successful in worldly ventures.  I found it very interesting how Steinbeck’s own personal commentary of the virtue of poor people shines through Mack and the boys, the downtrodden and judged people of society.
Steinbeck’s final commentary on society comes through the repeated theme of change after suicide.  First, a man named Horace Abbeville had two wives and six children, and thus was judged by society.  After racking up a huge debt at Lee Chong’s grocery store, Abbeville is forced to sell his warehouse to Chong to pay back his debt.  Chong treats Abbeville like another business venture rather than a human being, and continues to judge him and his children.  After selling his warehouse, Abbeville goes home and shoots himself.  Only through this tragedy does Chong see the error in his ways and “no Abbeville child, no matter who its mother was, knew the lack of a stick of spearmint afterward” (9).  The tragedy is that it, in fact, took a tragedy to teach Chong how to treat another like a human and not to judge for his or her shortcomings.  Similarly, the old bouncer at The Bear Flag Restaurant illustrates the same story.  The bouncer before Alfred, William, was not accepted by Mack and the boys.  Unable to deal with this rejection, William goes to talk to the Greek cook at Dora’s.  The Greek cook, however, does not understand William’s heartache, and so William’s, “hand rose and the ice pick snapped into his heart” (21).  After William’s suicide, Mack and the boys treat the new bouncer with respect and acceptance.  Only after both of these tragedies are people treated correctly—which I believe is a very good warning from Steinbeck to treat others with dignity and kindness in the first place.  After dealing with the tragedies of suicide in my own life this past year, this part of the novel was hard to read, but it is a topic that I am glad Steinbeck had the courage to tackle.
          Steinbeck declares his ideals of how society should function through characters with mental disease, stigmas against poor characters, and change after tragedy.  I thoroughly enjoyed reading what Steinbeck had to say about each of these aspects of life because his morals lined up with my own.  To hear another voice speak out about these issues was very refreshing.  Steinbeck’s writing style is, in my opinion, very clever—he takes normal storytelling and turns it into a life lesson akin to Aesop and Mark Twain.  For me, this balance of pointless, yet fun storytelling and poignant messages allowed "Cannery Row" to be perhaps the best summer reading book that I have been assigned in quite a while.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Hi Mrs. Daugherty!

Just wanted to let you know that I have not posted until now because I have been working at a summer camp in Pennsylvania for the last month, and I have had little time to sit down and work on a computer.  I go home this weekend, so please expect more progress on this after then.  Thanks!