An Essay by Michael Ramsey
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is far more than just a creepy fiction novel. It is in fact possibly one of the best metaphors for the human condition that exists. Far more than that, it illustrates the dangers of pursuing science, and not just in the sense that Frankenstein stepped over the line by using science to play God. The book shows that when one obsesses over science, he will inevitably ‘kill off’ his own innocence, and eventually his religion, too.
From an early age, Victor Frankenstein had a ravenous appetite for knowledge, and while his adopted cousin merely appreciates the beauty of things they discover in their adventures, Victor “delighted in investigating their causes” (Mary Shelley, 22). In his narrative, he goes on to say, “The world was to me a secret I desired to divine. Curiosity, [and] earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature … are among the earliest sensations I can remember” (22). His obsessions continue in his later life, as he leaves his family for higher education at Ingolstadt. So obsessed is he with his own work, he comes to a point where his “cheek had grown pale with study” (39). In the end, these hours and years of toil not only fail to benefit him in any way, but his project goes as far as to kill everything he loves, rendering most of his life rather pointless.
The issue of innocence being lost comes into play now. William Frankenstein, Victor’s younger brother, is perhaps the most innocent character in the entire story. The monster, upon learning the relation of the child to his sworn enemy and creator, murders him. It is arguable that perhaps the monster did not actually intend to kill the child, for he never stated a clear intent to do so: “The child still struggled and loaded me with epithets which carried despair to my heart. I grasped his throat to silence him…” (122) Regardless of the intention, the result is the same: the monster overcomes the childlike innocence within himself that he had exhibited earlier when he had chosen not to hurt Felix, the cottager who despite the monster’s good will toward the family, immediately alienated him upon their first time meeting face to face. As the monster states in his recounting of his life, “I could have torn him limb from limb, as the lion rends the antelope. But I … refrained.” (115) The murder of an innocent child served to remove the mental blocks that kept the monster from acting on his negative emotions, and ultimately made him comfortable with and unafraid of murder, as can be seen in his triumphant exclamation after silencing William: “I too can create desolation! … This will carry despair to him; a thousand other torments and miseries shall destroy him!” (122)
Frankenstein himself ‘kills’ his own similar innocence when he oversteps the bounds of what is acceptable for science, and robs graves in order to acquire pieces for his creation. This death of innocence can be seen even today; according to Child Birth Solutions Inc, only one in five teens do not have sex before marriage. Studies of crime in Georgia by the FBI show that since 1960, the rate of burglaries has risen from 392.1 for every 100,000 inhabitants to a frightening 1,038.9 in 2008. These numbers indicate a disturbing trend in America’s morality.
As a child, Frankenstein was brought up in the ideals of the “enlightened and scientific age” (31), as Professor Krempe referred to it, and such ideals had very little room for religion. “… my father had taken the greatest precautions that my mind should be impressed with no supernatural horrors” (36); indeed, his parents have gone so far as to shield him from any religious doctrine or superstition whatsoever, showing in a minor degree that the dedication to science brings an end to religion. On a more symbolic level, the book shows this again through the death of Justine, whose peace and fearlessness in the face of death and her confidence that something better awaits her on the other side suggest that she may be the literal representation of religion in this story. “Dearest blessed child! I shall soon see you again in heaven, where we shall be happy…” (69), she says. Later in her speech, she declares boldly, “I do not fear to die” (69). When the monster, the result of immoral, disgraceful science sets her up for William’s murder and she is hanged, science once again rears its ugly head and brings death upon an important trait of humanity, and religion is gone.
As with the matter of innocence, we can also see this ‘death’ of religion in our world today. Not too long ago, Thom S. Rainer undertook a study of Americans and their religion. His results were astonishing, and are published in his book The Bridger Generation. He has divided the last 100 years into three generations, the Builder Generation, which is everyone born before 1946, the Boomer Generation, 1946-1976, and the Bridger Generation, which includes 1977-1994. Of the so-called Builder Generation, data from that time shows that over 60% of Americans declared themselves born again Christians. Now fast forward to the Bridger Generation, where a scant 4% claim the same.
Frankenstein serves as a solemn reminder of the physical dangers of science, but more importantly, it should serve as a warning as to what a future of science holds for humanity in the personal sense. From rising crime rates, to the fragmentation of the principle or marriage, it can be seen that as science advances, we as individuals, as a nation, and as a world, are slowly losing touch with our morality and spirituality.











