It is October, which means spooky season, Halloween, and best: gothic literature. While I have talked and written at length about The Picture of Dorian Gray, Frankenstein is another favorite of mine that I pull out every year at about this time. A beautiful novel that not only fits the vibe of this month, but shows that monsters are not born, they are made, and that the person who is made the villain is sometimes the victim all along.
This is the whole premise of Frankenstein and what makes it such an incredible work of literary art. The Creature (who is not named Frankenstein, no matter how much people may think he is) was created by Victor Frankenstein. He was pieced together, brought to life, then abandoned because he was so physically grotesque. Abandoned by the man he saw as his father, left to be attacked and feared by society.
This novel is so much more than a Halloween tale. It dives into the shallowness of society, how much we rely on appearance, revenge, and longing. When we think of The Creature, even in the context of the original book, we think of the character that brutally killed Victor Frankenstein’s loved ones, the horrific monster going around and terrorizing townspeople. We do not think of the sad being yearning for a family, trying to connect with a blind man before he’s thrown out and ostracized by the family of the man, even though the Creature was nothing but kind.
There is another thing to be said about The Creature, and it’s just that—“The Creature.” Besides that, Victor calls him a “monster,” “fiend,” “demon,” “wretch,” “devil,” and “thing.” He never has a proper name. This may be the most dehumanizing thing about it all (I am aware that the Creature is not technically human). Humans name everything. We name our kids, our pets, our cars. We give names to people who already have names as an act of endearment. But this being that Victor Frankenstein created from nothing, is not even worthy of a name.
Instead of turning The Creature into a monster, really we should be turning Victor Frankenstein into one. Because an egotistical man who wanted to play God is far more realistic and far more terrifying than any fictional creature can be. Everything that unfolded in the novel can be traced back to Victor. At the core, it truly is his fault. If he was not as narcissistic as he was, if he did not play around with things that should never be messed with, if he did not abandon his creation as soon as he succeeded at what he was working towards, if he had tried to make amends, none of the tragedy would have happened.
Yet, many readers feel sympathetic towards Victor, especially in the chapters that are written from his point of view. This is a perfect example of the power of perspective, that whoever writes the narrative decides how they are perceived. But the reader must remember that Victor is not the victim. He was an egotistical narcissist that never considered the difference between what he could do and what he should do, and suffered the consequences of his cowardice.