The Readers Review: Literature from 1714 to 1910 discussion

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Frankenstein
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Frankenstein - Week 2
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The creature is in the middle of his story where we left off. We don’t yet know why he killed William.
Should Victor have spoken out about Justine? Would it have helped? What if he had told the authorities he’d seen a large man around where William was killed? Along with Justine hearing footsteps when she was in the barn, could that have saved her? I keep thinking there’s something Victor could/should have done. What do you think Victor should have done?
Do we know how Victor brought his creation to life? I think in the movies it's electricity, but I don't remember seeing it in the book.
The way the weather and story interact is nice. Very Gothic.
Should Victor have spoken out about Justine? Would it have helped? What if he had told the authorities he’d seen a large man around where William was killed? Along with Justine hearing footsteps when she was in the barn, could that have saved her? I keep thinking there’s something Victor could/should have done. What do you think Victor should have done?
Do we know how Victor brought his creation to life? I think in the movies it's electricity, but I don't remember seeing it in the book.
The way the weather and story interact is nice. Very Gothic.
The book is vague about how the monster comes to life. Mary & Percy Shelley had seen experiments with "galvanism" (electricity) where it looked like a dead frog or other animal was moving its legs. Mary also had a dream some time before writing Frankenstein where her baby who had died in infancy came back to life.
As someone who has studied and taught languages, I am always put off by how easily people (or creatures in this case) learn languages. Supposedly by living outside the hut, the monster learns to understand, speak and read and he then finds a trunk with books like Paradise Lost. He declaims in long, flowery sentences. I really got stuck on how unrealistic that is, and then laughed at myself when I realized I had already accepted that the monster could even exist!
As someone who has studied and taught languages, I am always put off by how easily people (or creatures in this case) learn languages. Supposedly by living outside the hut, the monster learns to understand, speak and read and he then finds a trunk with books like Paradise Lost. He declaims in long, flowery sentences. I really got stuck on how unrealistic that is, and then laughed at myself when I realized I had already accepted that the monster could even exist!

I think the process of learning is thought of very differently as times continues on throughout history. We tend to look at children as the epitome of a learning being/vessel/etc... So much of the world is new and all there is to do is learn. However, for much of history, children in many cultures were believed and seen to be adults, with the difference that they were in smaller bodies and just plain stupid. Why were they stupid? They learn slow. They don't learn from lessons immediately, and often forget.
When I see a creature learning to talk in fiction, or learning any other task for that matter, it is often an adult, and they do seem to learn quickly. Going back to the idea of children being seen as 'stupid' humans, this creature is not a child, but instead an adult, as their body suggests this. I would say that in some eyes in literary fiction, when an adult learns, they are not like their child counterpart; they are somehow smart, and so learn fast.
Robin wrote: "As someone who has studied and taught languages, I am always put off by how easily people (or creatures in this case) learn languages. "
Yeah, I definitely thought he needed more than a year (if it was even that) to master the language to the point he did. I'm sure their visitor didn't learn that fast. And there's a lot in this book that is "too convenient" as well. Because OF COURSE these cottagers had someone visiting that they had to teach the language (German?) to! And of course someone left a bag behind with clothes that would fit him, and books!
I mentioned in the George Sand discussion that there are some things that happen in Victorian novels that modern authors wouldn't be able to get away with.
Yeah, I definitely thought he needed more than a year (if it was even that) to master the language to the point he did. I'm sure their visitor didn't learn that fast. And there's a lot in this book that is "too convenient" as well. Because OF COURSE these cottagers had someone visiting that they had to teach the language (German?) to! And of course someone left a bag behind with clothes that would fit him, and books!
I mentioned in the George Sand discussion that there are some things that happen in Victorian novels that modern authors wouldn't be able to get away with.

I find the idea of different standards throughout history interesting, especially in context to historicity, ad hoc, and modern judgments taken from a distant perspective.
So does a story have to believable to be enjoyable?
Why had this book become a classic?
Does it pass the test of time?
Why had this book become a classic?
Does it pass the test of time?

I would think that relies on what aspect you focus on, view as important, and judge/deem as believable: Is it a story about a caterpillar that invents a blanket that can turn corn into gold? Ya, I could get on board and enjoy that. Is it a character that one is suppose to connect with but their demeanor does not suit him/her; there is no consistency, accuracy, personal believability; or there is no story nor journey? I am not sure, maybe...ehh...
I think it depends on the personal and how much one identifies with the story, character, theme... It is quite fascinating how different experiences depend on life, situations, cultures, towns, continents, knowledge, ignorance, temperaments... some people may find various parts of the ‘monster’s’ experience completely believable, even personally identifiable (such as being forced into or choosing to be, by whatever happenstance, part of another culture and learn the many intricacies of their language). Others may think it otherworldly.
I think the book has become a classic because it is relatable, believable. One can actually even easily nit pick someone’s actual real life experiences and argue them as false memories, events that did not actually happen the way they believe they did. It is the same with fiction. Is it real? If not, then it is disposable?
One reason that this story resonates is because it was believed as current reality by its contemporaries and is believed as future reality today. (This is on many levels.)
It is also believable on many fronts.
Another reason is that it is easier/more comfortable to relate to something unbelievable than admit to reality. So much of what is fiction is in truth fact that we are not willing or able to admit to.
Thoughts?
Micah wrote: "Mind to repeat?"
In the George Sand book (The Devil's Pool), there was a huge info-dump in some dialog early in the book. This was quite common in Victorian literature, but for a modern author, a beta reader or editor would flag it (or a reviewer would, if it gets that far). Because now the focus is more on reality in dialog: how people actually speak. And when we speak to someone, we don't drop a load of information that the other person already knows. And we can't usually get too far along in speech before someone interjects something or asks a question (Victor would probably have interrupted the creature a few times by now to ask questions).
In the George Sand book (The Devil's Pool), there was a huge info-dump in some dialog early in the book. This was quite common in Victorian literature, but for a modern author, a beta reader or editor would flag it (or a reviewer would, if it gets that far). Because now the focus is more on reality in dialog: how people actually speak. And when we speak to someone, we don't drop a load of information that the other person already knows. And we can't usually get too far along in speech before someone interjects something or asks a question (Victor would probably have interrupted the creature a few times by now to ask questions).
The same was true of theater in the past, as well as early movies and TV shows. Both the style of speaking and the way information was conveyed now seem fake to us. We are used to a more "naturalistic" style.
Putting the info-dump into dialogue was maybe a step forward from just having the author write an introductory chapter as Dickens or Trollope does, giving the history of the family.
Putting the info-dump into dialogue was maybe a step forward from just having the author write an introductory chapter as Dickens or Trollope does, giving the history of the family.

I suppose if writers did it nowadays, readers might be put off and say, "Well if you are trying to argue why I should read this book, almost or actually breaking the 4th wall, perhaps it is not that good then."
True, our sensibilities change in what we expect in literature through time, but I tend to try and put my mind into the space of the era, and try to understand what the purpose and effect they hoped to have, as the authors were perhaps aware of what people liked and did not like during their time. For me, it does not devalue the story nor style. It is simply different.
Micah wrote: "For me, it does not devalue the story nor style. It is simply different. "
Same here. I don't think it is bad or anything. It's just something I notice as a writer and editor myself.
Same here. I don't think it is bad or anything. It's just something I notice as a writer and editor myself.

There is a semi-technical term for this: "the willing suspension of disbelief." It comes up all the time in discussions of science fiction and fantasy, but doesn't apply only there.
Some people can't do this with even ordinary fiction (how they deal with television shows I don't know: maybe being visual helps). There used to be a contributor to the now very old Amazon Discussion Boards (not the also late, and more recently lamented, Amazon Forums) who just couldn't stand fiction. (Judging from some of his comments, he had at an early stage had one of those teachers who insist the the point of fiction is "Character Development," or the "theme," and never mind appreciating the narrative, and that remained stuck in his mind as the "purpose" of story-telling.)
Others can do it with "realistic" literature, even far-fetched mysteries and romance novels. But some of those readers strain with science fiction or fantasy, because they find it hard to accept the unfamiliar "givens" needed to enjoy the story.
(Some of these people say they enjoy historical fiction: presumably they are willing to accept something that supposedly was once "real.")
Mary Shelley tries to get around this problem of people being uninterested in the type of story by supplying lots of details from contemporary, and so partly familiar, life.
We open on board a ship in Arctic waters, which is a concept the reader is likely to understand, without having to experience it.
Then we get a whole lot of details about life in Switzerland, foreign, but still comprehensible.
As Pooh-Bah says in "The Midado," this is "Merely corroborative detail, intended to give artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative."
Only once the reader has accepted, for the moment, and for the purpose of entertainment, the provisional "reality" of the story does the unrealistic enter the scene.
This tactic is not obsolete in science fiction and fantasy, although most stories jump right in to the unfamiliar world, and then build it up with supporting details (see Pooh-Bah) an experience which SF & fantasy fans tend to enjoy. It can be likened to recognzing the clues in a good mystery, from which the reader can build up a picture of what is going on. But others don't like the practice, or don't have the patience to see how things fit together, so this is a kind of automatic filter
Still, one still finds stories which open in a representation of our world, and move on to another, supernatural one (sometimes very well done: Barbara Hambly's first novel, The Time of the Dark comes to mind), and this is a staple in a lot of books aimed at younger readers.
And then there are near-future science fiction stories, involving just a few changes to the present . "Frankenstein" can be taken as the forerunner of that branch (the late Brian W. Aldiss, in his history of science fiction, gave "Frankenstein" the place of honor as the *first* recognizable science fiction story -- a debatable choice, although I think he defended it quite well.
A concise version of his thinking on the subject can be found in an on-line version of a speech on the issue:
https://vulpeslibris.wordpress.com/20...

Hmmm, I never actually thought of this story as a science fiction.

It falls neatly into the category if you think of it as about newly-obtained knowledge informing a technique (or technology) capable of making profound changes in the people who experience it, and, potentially, in the larger society. (The possible connection between life and electricity was a debated theory at the time, although Mary Shelley never seems to declare in its favor, despite the classic movie version. The starting point was Galvani's observation in 1780 that an electric spark caused the flexing of the leg muscles of a dead frog.)
It is only fair to point out that Tom Shippey (a Germanic philologist, authority on Tolkien, and a great reader and critic of science fiction) observes that "'Frankenstein' is more convinced of the dangers than the potentials of a new technology."
This is from the footnote on page 44 of Shippey's collection of studies, articles, introductions, etc., "Hard Reading: Learning from Science Fiction," which is just now available as a free download at https://www.academia.edu/39500261/Har... Click on the link provided, and book will download automatically (unfortunately as a numbered file -- you will need to re-name it, or put it in a folder, if you want to find it later).
{Addendum: I just realized that some of the things I said above, in message #14, read like a paraphrase or summary of some of Shippey's essays -- which I don't recall reading, when it was new, beyond the first couple of pages. But I would like to give credit where it might be due....}
In the same note Shippey also points out that in a draft of H.G. Wells' "The Island of Doctor Moreau," one of the books on Moreau's shelf is -- "Frankenstein." Wells deleted it from the published text.
A spoiler explanation for those who don't know Wells' book, but might one day read it:
(view spoiler)


I simply reported Shippey's comment, based on an existing study of the original "Dr. Moreau" manuscript: "The Island of Doctor Moreau: A Variorum Text," ed. Robert M. Philmus (1993) -- a book I've never seen, which is why I quoted Shippey. He also notes from that volume that "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" was also mentioned, and that "Frankenstein" was replaced by Burton's hoard of "quaint and curious lore," "The Anatomy of Melancholy."
My guess would be that on second thought Wells was concerned that, by a process of suggestion, "Frankenstein" would give away too much of the plot beforehand. Especially if readers remembered the sub-title, "The Modern Prometheus."

It's a interesting idea of the other being capable of something horrible. In the european literature this is a common feature. The other, the alien. None of us could do something like this, only a monster, a foreigner, a lower class people.
What does isolation and hatred create in Frankenstein?
What obligation does the creator have to his creation?
The author writes “if our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be free”... What do you think? What is the experience of the cottages? Of the monster?
What would it be like to go from no senses to all the senses simultaneously?