Frankenstein is the early 19th century novel by Mary Shelley, daughter of pioneering feminist Mary Wollstonecraft, who died after giving birth to Shelley. Shelley had a turbulent life due to being raised by an anarchist father. Before writing Frankenstein, she had an affair with one of her father’s married friends. He went on to remain with Shelley and leave his wife, who became so distraught she later committed suicide. Frankenstein was written after the first child Shelley had with him out of wedlock was born prematurely and died. It doesn’t take a skilled psychologist to see this novel as a projection of her turbulent life, with the fictional monster representing the bad fruits of her non-traditional choices in an era that was still rather rooted in tradition and Christianity.
Here are three timeless truths that the book shares…
1. Don’t try to become a god without God
The following quotes are said by Frankenstein, the mad scientist who created the monster (it is a common mistake for the monster itself to be called Frankenstein)…
…I entered with the greatest diligence into the search of the philosopher’s stone and the elixir of life; but the latter soon obtained my undivided attention. Wealth was an inferior object, but what glory would attend the discovery if I could banish disease from the human frame and render man invulnerable to any but a violent death!
Nor were these my only visions. The raising of ghosts or devils was a promise liberally accorded by my favourite authors, the fulfilment of which I most eagerly sought; and if my incantations were always unsuccessful, I attributed the failure rather to my own inexperience and mistake than to a want of skill or fidelity in my instructors.
The sun does not more certainly shine in the heavens than that which I now affirm is true. Some miracle might have produced it, yet the stages of the discovery were distinct and probable. After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter.
What had been the study and desire of the wisest men since the creation of the world was now within my grasp.
I was like the Arabian who had been buried with the dead and found a passage to life, aided only be one glimmering and seemingly ineffectual light.
Frankenstein dives wholeheartedly into his effort to create life, to be like a god, and insists on stopping at nothing to achieve his goal. I compare him to the Silicon Valley geeks of today who promote transhumanism and want to create AI and neurochips to make man “better,” and when they use that word, they mean to make men better subject to their own control to trivially sate man’s obsession with comfort and convenience.
Note the pride that coincides with the desire to be god-like. In his delusion, Frankenstein really believed that he possessed the powers of God.
2. You will become angry at the “creator” of your apostasy from the true God
The monster went on to have a wretched life, because he was formed from the pride of man instead of the love of God…
“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the every resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred.”
“Unfeeling, heartless creator! You had endowed me with perceptions and passions and then cast me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind. But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from any other being that wore the human form.”
Consider the useful idiots of the regime: pro-vax, pro-gay pride, pro-migrants, Antifa, Democrats, NeverTrumper, and the like. Do they seem happy at their worldly creators and enablers, who shaped their views and formed their behaviors from propaganda campaigns that promised material benefits? The Frankensteins of this age, however, are smarter than the mad doctor in the novel: they are concealed and never claim credit for their creations. They pretend their name is not really Frankenstein, and plea they don’t know who he is. So the monsters of our time lash out at innocent bystanders just like the monster in the novel, because of uncontrollable wrath that stems from not knowing where they came from and who they must truly serve for eternal rest.
Can you imagine those who are angry at God? You may have met a few of them and are familiar with the utter foolishness of their sentiment—to be mad at the Being who created them from the dust! I must conclude that being angry at God, murmuring against Him, shows a deadly lack of understanding of God combined with a desire to wallow in earthly feelings of anger and pride and the sins which the sufferer is decidedly attached to.
3. Creations will always turn on their human “creators”
From the monster…
“Slave, I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself unworthy of my condescension. Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master; obey!”
Many times in history we have seen the pets of the elite turn against their masters. Dr. E Michael Jones’ book The Jewish Revolutionary Spirit provides numerous examples. African-Americans, a weapon harnessed by Jews to attack white Americans through so-called Civil Rights, now regularly attack Jews in major cities. Anti-corporate liberals, fed up with the greed of capitalism, attacked their masters with the Occupy Wall Street movement until they were placated with pornography and equality bucks. Recently, the Afghani army, which the United States spent decades training, put down their arms and humiliated their master in the face of the sandal-wearing Taliban. The lives of the Frankensteins of our day are constantly filled with schemes and plots to control their little pets. One question you must ask yourself is if you are a creation of a Frankenstein. If you are far from God, you must answer in the affirmative.
It is impressive that Shelley wrote this book at only 18 years of age. The idea was innovative for its time, but nonetheless the execution was lacking. There was an incredible amount of fluff strewn through every page, as if she was trying to hit a certain word count and turn what she was capable of doing (a short story) into what she was not (a full-length novel). The book reminded me of an American football match, where there is hardly any action for the long amount of attention it demands of you. Here is an example of her boring writers-workshop writing that infuriated me to the point where I was almost as angry as the monster in the novel:
In a thousand spots the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie broken and strewed on the ground, some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning upon the jutting rocks of the mountain or transversely upon other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of snow, down which stones continually roll from above; one of them is particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as even speaking in a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw destruction upon the head of the speaker. The pines are not tall or luxuriant, but they are somber and add an air of severity to the scene. I looked on the valley beneath; vast mists were rising from the rivers which ran through it and curling in thick wreaths around the opposite mountains, whose summits were hid in the uniform clouds, while rain poured from the dark sky and added to the melancholy impression I received from the objects around me.
This is the sort of writing a high school teacher with green hair tells you is good literature, and your ignorant self scratches your head, confused as to why it is good, but you want to get a high grade so you try to pay attention and convince yourself that it is good.
One other notable passage displays a hint of the leftist propaganda of her time. In the favored female character of Elizabeth, Shelley shares the laughable notion that republics (i.e. democracies) create more moral and refined citizens.
The republican institutions of our country have produced simpler and happier manners than those which prevail in the great monarchies that surround it. Hence there is less distinction between the several classes of its inhabitants; and the lower orders, being neither so poor nor so despised, their manners are more refined and moral.
When you look around to the lower classes of today’s democracies, do you find that their manners are “more refined and moral”? I see utterly base and subhuman behaviors, of which I participated. My guess is that she was merely spouting the beliefs of her anarchist father, whose ideas went on to win the day since chances are you are not ruled over by a king but through the votes of a grossly immoral and petulant mob.
Overall, Frankenstein was a poor novel with a great idea, refreshing for its time. I can’t recommend it unless you are a bibliophile who wants to grasp the history of the novel form.
Learn More: Frankenstein on Amazon