Self-Reflection

In revising my essay “The Evolution of Literature”, I attempted to make my argument stronger and clearer to the reader, and I showed more knowledge of the primary text, The Invention Of Hugo Cabret.  In order to do this, I synthesized my paragraphs and added more close analysis of Hugo Cabret.  Also, I endeavored to add more counterargument to my own argument, not just Birkert’s argument, and I added more explanation about how I see “abstraction” as a good feature of all texts and literature in general.  To review my own paper and edit it, I used comments from the professor and notes from my own class notebook.

Over the course of my freshman year, I have developed my ability to use quotes more effectively and I have become a much more critical reader, in that now I can quickly point out key points in others arguments.  In addition, I have made progress in learning how to finish essays stronger, with a better conclusion that sums up my argument more effectively and that leaves the reader with a clear understanding of my thesis.  However, I still need to improve and hone this skill.  I have also developed the skill of transitioning better from paragraph to paragraph, giving my paper flow and making it more comprehensible, as I usually have a tendency to ramble or go on rabbit trails and lose my readers.  One skill that I hope to work on in the next semester that really needs working on is the ability to outline and provide a clear structure and argument.

Overall, this freshman year my writing has become more thoughtful and effective.  Not only that, but my reading has become more acute and critical, as well.  In my GRW course, I was taught how to think of things from not just my own perspective (as a Maryland resident, a student, a woman, an American, etc.), but from a world perspective, and I, therefore, broadened my horizons.  In my Literature and Composition course, I became a writer with a purpose.  No longer am I writing merely to complete an assignment, but now I am writing to further another’s argument, make my own counter argument, or develop my own opinions.  In doing all of these things, I have overall become a more thoughtful person, with more specific opinions and ideas, and a more effective and reflective reader and writer.

Revised – The Evolution of Literature

The Evolution of Literature

The written word has been evolving ever since the very beginnings.  We no longer draw symbols on cave walls or tablets of stone, and long gone are the days when our ancestors wrote on scrolls and papyrus leaves.  Even the type writer has become extinct.  In this generation, we can type our words into computers and we can read others’ writings through the very same machine.  We can search any fact on the internet and obtain almost any piece of knowledge through Google.  One can find a book in fiction or non-fiction, romance or mystery, historical or science fiction.  All of these innovations and modernizations have promoted society.  Why should this generation halt all development and growth now?  Of the literary innovations of this age, one is of particular controversy.  Hybrid print/visual books, such as The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, are part of a modernization within the young adult’s genre.  What is so remarkable is that The Invention of Hugo Cabret and other works like it are almost pseudo-films, in that detailed drawings and scenes permeate the chapters and actually tell parts of the story.  Through not only words, but series of pictures that give off the cinema-type experience, these novels captivate readers with their mystery and absorbing visual effects.  At first glance, however, one might believe that The Invention of Hugo Cabret is hardly literature.

For obvious reasons, The Invention of Hugo Cabret could be viewed as merely a picture book.  What if this genre is simply stemming out of the increased need and want of young children for entertainment, and a decreased desire for depth and knowledge?  Could The Invention of Hugo Cabret more accurately be described as a comic book?  As Sven Birkerts states in his book, The Gutenberg Elegies, “My core fear is that we are, as a culture, as a species, becoming shallower; that we have turned from depth – from the Judeo-Christian premise of unfathomable mystery – and are adapting ourselves to the ersatz security of a vast lateral connectedness.  That we are giving up on wisdom, the struggle for which has for millennia been central to the very idea of culture…” (Birkerts 228).  True, probably about half of The Invention of Hugo Cabret is comprised of the drawings.  Just picture a little boy whining about how he doesn’t want to read a book, and then celebrating when he realizes the book he has to read is mostly pictures!  Actually, when I first looked at The Invention of Hugo Cabret, I was ecstatic because I realized the book assigned for class would be extremely light reading.  When one involves themselves in these hybrid print/visual books, however, they might find that it is much more than it seems.  While some of my classmates dismissed the pictures, saying that they were bothersome and an annoyance, I believe that they give the book the mystery and intriguing quality that keep intent readers involved.  The film-like aspect allows, and almost requires, the readers use their imaginations to unravel, explore and fill in the blanks of the story line.  As a young girl in the book named Isabelle said, “’You can make up your own story when you look at a photo’” (Selznick 93).

Unlike a comic book, the plot was much more complicated, and the pictures much more artistic.  Another critic, Nicholas Carr wrote in his article about the effect of the web and, more specifically Google, “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski” (Carr).  Carr’s skimming along the surface would not be possible in this book.  The Invention of Hugo Cabret is like a magnet; it pulls you in, brings you into the story and immerses you in the action.  The drawings in Hugo Cabret do allow for complexity, contrary to Birkerts’ assertions.

“Each improvement is, at bottom, an order of abstraction that we accommodate ourselves to.  Abstraction is, however, a movement away from the natural given – a step away from our fundamental selves, selves rooted for millennia in an awe before the unknown, a fear and trembling in the face of the outer dark.  We widen the gulf, and if at some level we fear the widening, we respond by investing more of our faith in these systems we have wrought” (Birkerts 224).  Birkerts’ definition of abstraction somewhat contradicts his argument.  To me, literature embodies abstraction.  When I read, I lose sense of the present.  Upon reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, I had a new appreciation for abstract works of literature.  Upon reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, I immediately felt a connection with the character, Hugo, through our passions and imagination.  Earlier this semester, I wrote about the magic of reading and how it inspires me.  I wrote that I will always be fascinated with the magic of reading; by simply picking up a book I can swim in the deepest ocean, or fly through the air over the tallest mountain.  Then I read, “In the darkness of a new cinema that opened in a nearby neighborhood, Hugo was able to travel backward through time and see dinosaurs and pirates and cowboys, and he saw the future, with robots and cities so gigantic they blocked the sky…In the dark of the movie theatre he first saw jungles, oceans, and deserts” (Selznick).  It is true that reading to me transports me to a dream-like state, and The Invention of Hugo Cabret showed me that other people experience the same feeling and happiness through film and pictures.    Throughout the book, the reader is exposed to the passions of the different character.  Isabelle, like me, loves reading and the magic of film.  Hugo is mesmerized by magic and intricately built machines, such as the automaton man.  For those individuals who claim they don’t “get” art, I certainly would still recommend these print/visual works, for I am one of those non-artistic people; I do not have one ounce of artistic ability of appreciation in my body, yet Hugo Cabret opened a door for me.  Finally, I have found an abstract work that I could appreciate and enjoy.  Also, when he states that “each movement is a step away from the natural given”, Birkerts reinforces my introductory argument that literature is and has always been evolving.  The very computer (or pen and paper) that he used to write his volume is a “widening of the golf” of literature and composition.

As Birkerts and Carr might say, this innovation of reading and learning might be a mere distraction, and a destruction of self and soul.  However, Birkerts himself asserts, “And who can say what the effect of all these changes and enhancements will be?  Where is there a platform, an unaffected point of vantage, from which one can make a disinterested assessment? …Who is to say that any historical period is better than any other?”  (Birkerts 227).  Recognizing that he is not the voice of the future, Birkerts leaves room (however small in amount it may be) in his argument for debate; he leaves room for those like me to argue that hybrid print/visual books are a positive innovation for young adults and even children.  Maybe if I had read The Invention of Hugo Cabret when I was younger, today I would have more of an artistic appreciation.  Children who do find it difficult to focus on books may find console in these hybrid prototypes, which encompass and absorb you so that they literally cannot tear themselves away.  As George Melies, the great filmmaker and magician in The Invention of Hugo Cabret said, “’If you ever wondered where your dreams come from when you go to sleep at night, just look around.  This is where they are made’” (Selznick).

Original – The Evolution of Literature

The written word has been evolving ever since the very beginnings.  We no longer draw symbols on cave walls or tablets of stone, and long gone are the days when our ancestors wrote on scrolls and papyrus leaves.  Even the type writer has become extinct.  In this generation, we can type our words into computers and we can read others’ writings through the very same machine.  We can search any fact on the internet and obtain almost any piece of knowledge through Google.  One can find a book in fiction or non-fiction, romance or mystery, historical or science fiction.  All of these innovations have promoted society.  Why should this generation halt all development and growth now?

Of the literary innovations of this age, one is of particular controversy.  Hybrid print/visual books, such as The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, are part of a modernization within the young adult’s genre.  What is so remarkable is that The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and other works like it, is a sort of pseudo-film, in that detailed drawings and scenes permeate the chapters and actually tell parts of the story.  Through not only words, but series of pictures that give off the cinema-type experience, these novels captivate readers with their mystery and absorbing visual effects.  At first glance, however, one might believe thatThe Invention of Hugo Cabret is hardly literature.

For obvious reasons, The Invention of Hugo Cabret could be viewed as merely a picture book.  What if this genre is simply stemming out of the increased need and want of young children for entertainment, and a decreased desire for depth and knowledge?  Could The Invention of Hugo Cabret more accurately be described as a comic book?  As Sven Birkerts states in his book, The Gutenberg Elegies, “My core fear is that we are, as a culture, as a species, becoming shallower; that we have turned from depth – from the Judeo-Christian premise of unfathomable mystery – and are adapting ourselves to the ersatz security of a vast lateral connectedness.  That we are giving up on wisdom, the struggle for which has for millennia been central to the very idea of culture…” (Birkerts 228).  When one involves themselves in these hybrid print/visual books, they might find that it is much more than it seems.  While some of my classmates dismissed the pictures, saying that they were bothersome and an annoyance, I believe that they give the book the mystery and intriguing quality that keep intent readers involved.  The film-like aspect lets the readers use their imaginations to unravel, explore and fill in the blanks of the story line.  As a young girl in the book named Isabelle said, “’You can make up your own story when you look at a photo’” (Selznick 93).

Unlike a comic book, the plot was much more complicated, and the pictures much more artistic.  Another critic, Nicholas Carr wrote in his article about the effect of the web and, more specifically Google, “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski” (Carr).  Carr’s skimming along the surface would not be possible in this book.  The Invention of Hugo Cabret is like a magnet; it pulls you in, brings you into the story and immerses you in the action.  The drawings in Hugo Cabret do allow for complexity, contrary to Birkerts’ assertions.

“Each improvement is, at bottom, an order of abstraction that we accommodate ourselves to.  Abstraction is, however, a movement away from the natural given – a step away from our fundamental selves, selves rooted for millennia in an awe before the unknown, a fear and trembling in the face of the outer dark.  We widen the gulf, and if at some level we fear the widening, we respond by investing more of our faith in these systems we have wrought” (Birkerts 224).  Birkerts’ definition of abstraction somewhat contradicts his argument.  To me, literature embodies abstraction.  When I read, I lose sense of the present.  Upon readingThe Invention of Hugo Cabret, I had a new appreciation for abstract works of literature.  For those individuals who claim they don’t “get” art, I certainly would still recommend these print/visual works, for I am one of those non-artistic people; I do not have one ounce of artistic ability of appreciation in my body, yet Hugo Cabret opened a door for me.  Finally, I have found an abstract work that I could appreciate and enjoy.  Also, when he states that “each movement is a step away from the natural given”, Birkerts reinforces my introductory argument that literature is and has always been evolving.  The very computer (or pen and paper) that he used to write his volume is a “widening of the golf” of literature and composition.

As Birkerts and Carr might say, this innovation of reading and learning might be a mere distraction, and a destruction of self and soul.  However, Birkerts himself asserts, “And who can say what the effect of all these changes and enhancements will be?  Where is there a platform, an unaffected point of vantage, from which one can make a disinterested assessment? …Who is to say that any historical period is better than any other?”  (Birkerts 227).  Recognizing that he is not the voice of the future, Birkerts leaves room (however small in amount it may be) in his argument for debate; he leaves room for me to argue that hybrid print/visual books are a positive innovation for young adults and even children.  Maybe if I had read The Invention of Hugo Cabret when I was younger, today I would have more of an artistic appreciation.  Children who do find it difficult to focus on books may find console in these hybrid prototypes, which encompass and absorb you so that they literally cannot tear themselves away.

The Evolution of Literature

The written word has been evolving ever since the very beginnings.  We no longer draw symbols on cave walls or tablets of stone, and long gone are the days when our ancestors wrote on scrolls and papyrus leaves.  Even the type writer has become extinct.  In this generation, we can type our words into computers and we can read others’ writings through the very same machine.  We can search any fact on the internet and obtain almost any piece of knowledge through Google.  One can find a book in fiction or non-fiction, romance or mystery, historical or science fiction.  All of these innovations have promoted society.  Why should this generation halt all development and growth now?

Of the literary innovations of this age, one is of particular controversy.  Hybrid print/visual books, such as The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, are part of a modernization within the young adult’s genre.  What is so remarkable is that The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and other works like it, is a sort of pseudo-film, in that detailed drawings and scenes permeate the chapters and actually tell parts of the story.  Through not only words, but series of pictures that give off the cinema-type experience, these novels captivate readers with their mystery and absorbing visual effects.  At first glance, however, one might believe that The Invention of Hugo Cabret is hardly literature.

For obvious reasons, The Invention of Hugo Cabret could be viewed as merely a picture book.  What if this genre is simply stemming out of the increased need and want of young children for entertainment, and a decreased desire for depth and knowledge?  Could The Invention of Hugo Cabret more accurately be described as a comic book?  As Sven Birkerts states in his book, The Gutenberg Elegies, “My core fear is that we are, as a culture, as a species, becoming shallower; that we have turned from depth – from the Judeo-Christian premise of unfathomable mystery – and are adapting ourselves to the ersatz security of a vast lateral connectedness.  That we are giving up on wisdom, the struggle for which has for millennia been central to the very idea of culture…” (Birkerts 228).  When one involves themselves in these hybrid print/visual books, they might find that it is much more than it seems.  While some of my classmates dismissed the pictures, saying that they were bothersome and an annoyance, I believe that they give the book the mystery and intriguing quality that keep intent readers involved.  The film-like aspect lets the readers use their imaginations to unravel, explore and fill in the blanks of the story line.  As a young girl in the book named Isabelle said, “’You can make up your own story when you look at a photo’” (Selznick 93).

Unlike a comic book, the plot was much more complicated, and the pictures much more artistic.  Another critic, Nicholas Carr wrote in his article about the effect of the web and, more specifically Google, “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski” (Carr).  Carr’s skimming along the surface would not be possible in this book.  The Invention of Hugo Cabret is like a magnet; it pulls you in, brings you into the story and immerses you in the action.  The drawings in Hugo Cabret do allow for complexity, contrary to Birkerts’ assertions.

“Each improvement is, at bottom, an order of abstraction that we accommodate ourselves to.  Abstraction is, however, a movement away from the natural given – a step away from our fundamental selves, selves rooted for millennia in an awe before the unknown, a fear and trembling in the face of the outer dark.  We widen the gulf, and if at some level we fear the widening, we respond by investing more of our faith in these systems we have wrought” (Birkerts 224).  Birkerts’ definition of abstraction somewhat contradicts his argument.  To me, literature embodies abstraction.  When I read, I lose sense of the present.  Upon reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, I had a new appreciation for abstract works of literature.  For those individuals who claim they don’t “get” art, I certainly would still recommend these print/visual works, for I am one of those non-artistic people; I do not have one ounce of artistic ability of appreciation in my body, yet Hugo Cabret opened a door for me.  Finally, I have found an abstract work that I could appreciate and enjoy.  Also, when he states that “each movement is a step away from the natural given”, Birkerts reinforces my introductory argument that literature is and has always been evolving.  The very computer (or pen and paper) that he used to write his volume is a “widening of the golf” of literature and composition.

As Birkerts and Carr might say, this innovation of reading and learning might be a mere distraction, and a destruction of self and soul.  However, Birkerts himself asserts, “And who can say what the effect of all these changes and enhancements will be?  Where is there a platform, an unaffected point of vantage, from which one can make a disinterested assessment? …Who is to say that any historical period is better than any other?”  (Birkerts 227).  Recognizing that he is not the voice of the future, Birkerts leaves room (however small in amount it may be) in his argument for debate; he leaves room for me to argue that hybrid print/visual books are a positive innovation for young adults and even children.  Maybe if I had read The Invention of Hugo Cabret when I was younger, today I would have more of an artistic appreciation.  Children who do find it difficult to focus on books may find console in these hybrid prototypes, which encompass and absorb you so that they literally cannot tear themselves away.

Outline – the evolution of literature

Act 1 – The Evolution of Literature

• The written word has been evolving ever since the very beginnings.  We no longer write symbols on tablets or cave walls, and we don’t write on scrolls or papyrus leaves.
• Why stop now?  In this generation, we can type or words into computers and we can read others words through the same machine!  We can search any fact on the internet and obtain almost any piece of knowledge through google.  One can find a book in fiction or non-fiction, romance or mystery, historical or science fiction.  All of these innovations have promoted our society.
• Hybrid print/visual books such as The Invention of Hugo Cabret are part of yet another modernization, and through pictures and film-like qualities, these books captivate readers with their mystery and absorbing visual effects.

Act 2 – complications

• What if these books are just stemming out of the need and want of young children for entertainment?
• It is obvious that The Invention of Hugo Cabret could be viewed as merely a picture book.
• However when one involves themselves in it, they find that it is much more.  There is depth and mystery within the storyline and pictures, that the reader themselves must unravel and explore.
• Carr’s zipping along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski (Carr) would not be possible in this book.  The illustrations pull you in, like a film almost, so that one must pay attention and become involved.

Act 3

• Sometimes when watching film or reading a good book, one becomes so drawn in that they lose sense of where they are or the present.  The Invention of Hugo Cabret does the same, but through an ingenious mixture of film and novel.

The good, the bad, and the ugly of electronic literature

“Process.  As a noun, ‘a series of actions, changes, or functions that bring about an end or result.’  As a verb, ‘to put through the steps of a prescribed procedure.’”  To me, this excerpt from Birkerts’ book, The Gutenberg Elegies, also applies to hypertext, or electronic literature.  Reading The Museum, by Adam Kenney was a long but fascinating process that took me quite some time.  Similar to this was Like Stars in a Clear Night Sky, which was a compilation of poems, which were hidden in different stars in the window.  These texts were a process; one click of the mouse could bring me closer to the end, or backtrack me a few steps.  However, I discovered that not all stories on the Electronic Literature Archive were interesting.  I was less than impressed, to say the least, with The Cape, by J.R. Carpenter.

I will not waste time on explaining The Cape, but I will say that it was merely a sequence of 9 pictures with captions.  I found that it had no plot, and it proved to me that not all hypertext is as captivating as works such as The Museum.  Birkerts would be delighted at the fact that many in my class did not like The Museum.  Some students found it “lame” or too much to handle, and therefore it was just annoying.  On the other hand, other students agreed with me and thought that the hypertext was full of mystery, intriguing stories, and history.  One of my favorite stories within the story was the tale of Troy.  In the West Wing of the Museum, there is “a display of ancient armaments” (this is the link you click on) and it takes you to one of the characters’ (Edwin Flowers) tale of “What Troy Saw”.  Personally, I love the history of the Trojan war and of the Greek gods, so this immediately attracted me.  What is truly fascinating about this text, however, is the fact that there is something in it for every reader, whether they be interested in historical references, or Shakespeare references (there is an Ophelia exhibit), or fairy-tale references (there is a story of Sleeping Beauty).  Same with Like Stars in a Clear Night Sky.  There are poems about love, but also about family and suffering.  My dislike of a few of the hypertexts disappointed me, but also showed me that not all electronic literature is captivating and “hypnotizing”.

Carr says that “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski”, but I believe that one can fully dive into a sea of words such as The Museum or Like Stars in a Clear Night Sky, and one can zip along the surface of The Cape.  Birkerts might assert that “Language will grow increasingly impoverished through a series of vicious cycles”, however I will hold on to my faith in our generation.  True, some electronic literature can more accurately be described as computer games, but other hypertexts can be true treasures, just as a good book can be.

Everything About Anything – Is Google Making Us Stupid?

While Nicholas Carr and Sven Birkerts have a similar argument, I enjoyed and tolerated Carr’s article, Is Google Making Us Stupid, much more.  Through a series of bold statements and generalizations, Sven Birkerts asserts his argument that “…we are poised at the brink of what may prove to be a kind of species mutation.”  After reading Birkerts, I am left with bitter thoughts and a strong dislike of this seemingly cynical old man.

Nicholas Carr takes another approach, however.  To relate to the average student, Carr states, “For more than a decade now, I’ve been spending a lot of time online, searching and surfing and sometimes adding to the great databases of the Internet.”  Now, the reader of this article is much more prone to really listening to what Carr has to say and considering his argument.  One passage that gets my attention and that I can relate to is, “The Web has been a godsend to me as a writer. Research that once required days in the stacks or periodical rooms of libraries can now be done in minutes. A few Google searches, some quick clicks on hyperlinks, and I’ve got the telltale fact or pithy quote I was after.”  I couldn’t have said it better!  As a Google-user, I have access to an endless amount of knowledge, facts, and answers at the click of a button.  Although I do not know how hard it must have been to merely find history facts by venturing to the library and digging through encyclopedias, but the internet also poses an obstacle for our generation – with the infinite amount of sources and websites available, how do we know which ones to trust?

In order to survive school and homework, our generation must be extremely skilled at researching and distinguishing between reliable and unreliable sources.  In my opinion, Google gives us access to countless information on extremely specific topics, not just general summaries you find in many encyclopedias.  Carr says that, “Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski.”  However, I believe that one can dive into Google, just as they would dive into a book, and learn everything about anything.

Just like clockwork

I have always found it amazing when parts of my life strangely correlate or connect.  Upon reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, I immediately felt a connection with the character, Hugo, through our passions and imagination.  Earlier this semester, I wrote about the magic of reading and how it inspires me.  I wrote that I will always be fascinated with the magic of reading; by simply picking up a book I can swim in the deepest ocean, or fly through the air over the tallest mountain.  Then I read, “In the darkness of a new cinema that opened in a nearby neighborhood, Hugo was able to travel backward through time and see dinosaurs and pirates and cowboys, and he saw the future, with robots and cities so gigantic they blocked the sky…In the dark of the movie theatre he first saw jungles, oceans, and deserts.”  It is true that reading to me transports me to a dream-like state, and The Invention of Hugo Cabret showed me that other people experience the same feeling and happiness through film and pictures.  As the book tells us that many original filmmakers were formerly magicians, there literally is a certain magical quality to the ways in which film transports the beholder to new places and awes them.  What really astounds me is the fact that this very book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, is a sort of pseudo-film, in that detailed drawings and scenes permeate the chapters and actually tell parts of the story.  While some of my classmates dismissed the pictures, saying that they were bothersome and an annoyance, I believe that they gave the book the mystery and intriguing quality that kept us all involved.  The pictures let us use our imaginations to fill in the blanks.  A young girl in the book named Isabelle said, “’You can make up your own story when you look at a photo.’”  Throughout the book, the reader is exposed to the passions of the different character.  Isabelle, like me, loves reading and the magic of film.  Hugo is mesmerized by magic and intricately built machines, such as the automaton man.  As the main audience for this book, I believe that little kids especially will enjoy books such as this.  For the most part, young children find it hard to focus on books as they are constantly moving.  However, this book introduces a new element of mystery, through using pictures to tell the story and letting the reader exercise their imagination.  As George Melies, the great filmmaker and magician in The Invention of Hugo Cabret said, “’If you ever wondered where your dreams come from when you go to sleep at night, just look around.  This is where they are made.’”

Prometheus and Frankenstein – One in the Same?

On the title page of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the book is referred to as “The Modern Prometheus”.  In Greek mythology, Prometheus, the Titan creator of man, is known for his punishment bestowed from Zeus – an eternity of having his regenerating liver eaten every morning by an eagle.  Most readers may wonder why Shelley bothered to include the alternative title.  By calling Frankenstein “The Modern Prometheus”, Shelley shows how Frankenstein ultimately doomed himself and illuminates the beautiful evil of women and their dangerous role.

There are many versions of Prometheus’ tale, thus it is hard to nail one story down.  One story claims that when Prometheus stole fire and gave it to humans, Zeus chained Prometheus to a column and an eagle fed on his liver by day, but the liver regenerated by night.  However, another version says that the punishment was the first woman, Pandora – the beautiful evil.  Yet another says that Prometheus was chained to a rock because Zeus planned to annihilate humanity, but Prometheus dared to protect them.  Through these narratives, one might already be making connections between the story of Victor Frankenstein and Prometheus.  Though there are complications in comparing the two, Frankenstein undoubtedly shares many themes and ideas with the legend of Prometheus.

From the very beginning, Shelley incorporates Prometheus into her novel.  In chapter four, when Victor is in the process of his first creation and overcome with a sort of madness, he says “Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.  A new species would bless me as its creator and source…”  Prometheus, the creator of humans, gave his species fire, which literally gives light to our world.    With the creation, and then abandonment, of the monster, Frankenstein commits the first act in which he dooms himself.  The second mistake Frankenstein makes comes much later in the book, when he and the monster make an agreement.  Frankenstein promised to make a female companion for his creation, and in turn the creature vowed to live in solitude for the rest of his life.  This is not Victor’s fatal mistake.

The mistake comes when Victor destroys his work on the female, and breaks his oath to his creature.  Immediately after he tears his work apart, Frankenstein states “…I was overcome by the sensation of helplessness, so often felt in frightful dreams, when you in vain endeavor to fly from an impending danger, and was rooted to the spot.”  When I read this, I picture Prometheus rooted to the spot and held back by chains, as the eagle flies towards him, about to inflict severe pain on the prisoner.  In my opinion, Frankenstein created his own demise through his selfish tendencies.  Frankenstein created the monster out of a want of power over a new species and out of a want of fame in the world of science.  When he realized, too late, that his creation was monstrous to the eye, Frankenstein fled and left his, in a way, child to fend for himself.

Yet again, Frankenstein shows his selfishness when he decides to take away the only object that could make his creature happy – a female companion.  To me, Zeus is, to some extent, portrayed by the creature in Frankenstein.  After the destruction of his companion, the creature says “‘Slave I have 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!’”  Zeus was the god who punished Prometheus, just as the monster tortured Frankenstein.  When the monster refers to loathing the light of day, I connect that with Prometheus’ torture every morning.  The Titan had to despise the sun, because once it rose, the eagle would come and eat his liver.  While Zeus put Prometheus through a repeated physical torture, the monster put Frankenstein through an emotional horror by killing his loved ones off one by one.  Also in this scene, the reader can see the dangerous role women play in society.  Pandora was Zeus’ “gift” to man; she was created to be extremely beautiful and captivating, and Zeus also gave her a jar with a warning that stated never to open it.  Pandora’s curiosity won over, and she unleashed all the evils man knows now, such as poverty and illness.  How does this translate into Frankenstein?  This is where complication arises in my thesis.  While Zeus’ creation of Pandora led to misfortune for man but ensured the race would go on, Frankenstein’s destruction of the female monster guarantees the death of his loved ones and, ultimately, himself.  Thus, a main difference is that the creature actually wanted his own Pandora, despite the evil she may contain.

Upon seeing the corpse of Clerval, Frankenstein laments, “Why did I not die?  More miserable than man ever was before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest?…Of what materials was I made, that I could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the torture?”  Exactly like Prometheus, Frankenstein was subject to the same anguish recurrently without any means of escaping.  However, Prometheus’ punishment was a result of his love for his creation.  Purely out of care, Prometheus stole fire from Zeus in order to give it to his creation, and Prometheus defended his creation when Zeus wished to annihilate them.  Frankenstein does not care for his creation, as evident in his abandonment of the creature and also, Justine.  Frankenstein could have saved the girl, but he did not want to be judged guilty.

Frankenstein’s destruction is a direct result of his own selfishness and lack of care towards his creation, and the perilous influence women have on society.  Prometheus, though his intentions were guiltless, nonetheless doomed himself to misery as well.

 

The monster within

Rage, jealousy, hurt, and revenge, are feelings that any human being is familiar with.  Without these vices, we would be angels.  Adam and Eve were at one point perfect beings, but their depravity inflicted God’s judgment upon them and all mankind.  Earlier this week in English, a question was raised as to whether the creature Victor Frankenstein created was a “monster” or not.  No doubt, the creature looks terrifying and monster-like, but a deeper definition of “monster” would be one that delights in the misfortune of others and wishes only to inflict pain and terror on those around him.  Therefore, I strongly believe that the creature is not a monster.

“I am malicious because I am miserable.  Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind?  You my creator, would tear me to pieces, and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?”  Do we all not act out in anger when we are at our lowest state of despair or misery?  Imagine that lowest state of despair, and in order to truly grasp how miserable the creature is, we must magnify that state greatly.  This creature was unwillingly given life, abandoned by his father, shunned by man, and hurt and rejected by the only friends (if you could call the DeLacey’s his friends) he ever had.  I cannot imagine the trials and tribulations he has been through, so therefore I cannot imagine the magnitude of hurt and rage inside the creature.  No doubt those emotions led him to the murder of William, even though his original intention was to have William as a friend.  Still, the creature says, “I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish triumph: clapping my hands, I exclaimed, ‘I, too, can create desolation; my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him, and a thousand other miseries shall torment and destroy him.’”  I would like to say that the creature is not a monster any more than I am, but the fact is that the creature does murder innocent people.  This complicates my view, for it is impossible for me to understand this creature’s pain and, therefore, anger.  However, upon being told that Frankenstein will build another creature of the opposite sex, the creature is most assuring that he and his mate will live in solitude and not bother the human population.  “‘My vices are the children of forced solitude that I abhor; and my virtues will necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal.’”

There is a monster in all of us.  The little boy, who does not get the toy he wishes for, will scream and throw anything in sight.  The stereotypical teenager who is not allowed to go out on the weekend will yell “You’re ruining my life!” to her protective parents.  We all commit atrocities of a sort; and we all have our darkest wishes and thoughts of revenge, jealousy and resentment.  To me, the creature represents a more extreme version of man.  His pain and suffering are greater than the average man, and his retaliations and rage are more exaggerated.  On the outside, a man looks handsome and delightful, but he may well be a monster.  The creature looks like a horrid and detestable demon at first sight, but on the inside he longs for companionship and sympathy.