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Frankenstein Summary Essay Research Paper In Mary

Frankenstein Summary Essay, Research Paper In Mary Shelley s Frankenstein, the young doctor Victor Frankenstein, creates a monster through the use of dead human body parts and electricity. The monster comes to life before the doctor s very eyes and scares the doctor to death, leading him to flee his laboratory and the monster.

Frankenstein Summary Essay, Research Paper

In Mary Shelley s Frankenstein, the young doctor Victor Frankenstein, creates a monster through the use of dead human body parts and electricity. The monster comes to life before the doctor s very eyes and scares the doctor to death, leading him to flee his laboratory and the monster. Frankenstein later comes to realize that his creation will ruin his life forever. Although the monster was left to survive on his own, he not only learned to feed himself, read and write but also to speak without a heavy accent. The monster seeks revenge after being neglected by his creator, who left him blind to the harshness of survival. Also, for not granting him his only wish, which was to have a mate whom could love him and be loved by him. Enraged by the doctor s refusal, the monster kills Frankenstein s brother, his best friend, and finally his wife. Frankenstein devotes his life to try to kill the monster before dying himself.

Frankenstein has both good and bad aspects, which make the book an interesting work of literature. The fact that the close minded monster could educate himself in such a manner that a blind man couldn t tell the difference between the monster s speech and voice than that of an ordinary human being is quite unbelievable. On the other hand, many find the author s use of imagination and her choice of words to be quite interesting. The fact that the writer is a female and not a male surprises her readers and leave s them greatly astonished. The ability to draw the characters with such vividness and striking originality also show s the creative mind of the author.

According to many critics and common sense, it is very inconceivable that the monster could educate himself the way he did in such a short period of time.

This statement has been supported by many critics including Sir Walter Scott who once stated, The self education of the monster, considering the slender opportunities of acquiring knowledge he possessed is improbable and overstrained . by listening through a hole in a wall, seems as unlikely as that he should have acquired, in the same way, the problems of Euclid, of the art of book-keeping by single and double entry. (Sir Walter Scott250) Also when the monster decides to confront a blind man, his language is so correct, that his hearer holds a long conversation with him, and discovers nothing extraordinary in his pronunciation and method of speech. (The New York Mirror258)

Although the book has its faults, the author still demonstrates an excellent show of imagination, it possess a power of fascination, something of the same mastery in harsh and savage delineation s of passion, relieved in like manner by the gentler features of domestic and simple feelings. (The Edinburgh Magazine250) According to Blackwood s Edinburgh Magazine, We learned that Frankenstein was written by Mrs. Shelley; and then said to ourselves, For a man it was excellent, but for a woman it was wonderful. What we chiefly admired, in that wild production, was vigor of imagination and strength of language . (Blackwood s Edinburgh Magazine252)

There are always different opinions when it comes to work s of literature. To some, a book may be one of the most interesting, compelling thing they have ever read. On the other hand, there will always be that certain person or group of persons who will find something to criticize about the book. Frankenstein is just one example of the many stories, novels, plays and poems that have good and bad characteristics. Although many criticize Shelley s work, be it good or bad, the author once said, I have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart. (Mary W. Shelley257)

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