Anxious Anticipation of Annihilation

Note: I know the title is overly dramatic but I wanted the alliteration, so deal with it.

I went into Frankenstein with expectations of a novel filled with eerie science experiments, grotesque creatures, and heinous murders. And while Mary Shelley technically delivered in all these fronts, I was disappointed. At best the story vaguely alluded to the science that took place, and we never even got to wittiness the creature murdering someone. I had wanted a more hollywoodesque horror novel that allowed me to experience the frights with the characters, but, instead, I only got to witness the passive aftermath.

That said, I still found myself on the edge of my seat for almost the entirety of the novel (the exception being when he rambled on and on about how beautiful nature was and the solace he found within it). Shelley did not need blood and guts to deliver one of the most chilling novels I have ever read; all she needed was the suspense and anxiety created from the foreshadowed disaster.

I usually despise the technique of framing a story within a story, but for Frankenstein it was a genius move. Not only did it parallel the themes of the core story, but it also is what created the almost all of the suspense for me. Knowing the unavoidable misery that Frankenstein was moving inexorably toward filled every scene with tension. The knowledge of his impending doom darkened even the gold-tinted scenes of his childhood with Elizabeth. This knowledge caused me to imagine these scenes in almost garishly bright, yellow lighting (not unlike the yellow of the creature’s eyes) creating a sense of discordance and wrongness that otherwise would not be present.

This pattern continued throughout the whole novel for me. In every scene I was riddled with anxiety wondering if this would be when the creature finally lashed out. It was as if every scene was set to a soundtrack of of soft but discordant violin music.

In essence, Frankenstein suffered the same fear that I did. That night after he animates the creature Frankenstein he dreams that upon kissing Elizabeth’s lips she immediately died portending the inevitable role Frankenstein and his creature would have in her death. And when he wakes up and sees the creature standing over him he almost goes mad in fear. The certainty that the creature will be end of him and his family colors every moment of every part of Frankenstein’s life and quickly sucks away any joy he obtains.

The irony of the situation was Frankenstein’s fear of the future that made the future come into being. If he could have let go of his fear and repulsion of the creature no of the things he feared would have happened.

In the end, I was pretty underwhelmed by the actual events of the novel, but Mary Shelley showed me that fear of what is to come is as powerful as the fear of the actual event itself. And in some cases it even exceeds it.