Nature in Shelley\'s Frankenstein Mary

¶ … Nature in Shelley's Frankenstein

Mary Shelley's novel, Frankenstein, is a classic illustration for the argument of nature prevailing over nurturing when we examine the life of the monster, a being that is born inherently good driven to behave badly when he suffers endless rejection. The monster attempts to do right and upon every chance he has, he reaches out to humankind, only to be mistreated. It is only after repeated failure does the monster decide that pain is all that awaits him in this life. The monster's first instinct is something good; he wants to be something good and he desires to do something good. His nature is crushed only when he faces insurmountable rejection - clear justification for his subsequent evil behavior. The monster was not "born" evil; he was created and his most fundamental desire is to connect with others.

His efforts are true and his heart is pure - in the beginning. He is doing what we should all do and that is make the best with the hand he has been dealt. Undoubtedly, he has been dealt a cruel hand and suffers as the result of nothing he does directly. Nevertheless, his nature is good until he recognized the futility of it. Victor Frankenstein's monster proves to have a better nature than Victor himself does for he attempts with everything within himself to seek and do good.

The case against nurturing in the nature vs. nurture argument is best illustrated with the life of the monster. Several factors come into play regarding this situation. First, the monster never experiences the kind of familial love as does Victor. Any kind of relationship the monster could have with his father, or creator, is broken before the monster becomes conscious of the reasons behind his existence. Victor's absence would tend to make us believe that the monster would be bitter and angry from the start but this is not the case. To the contrary, as the monster seeks to discover what there is in life on his own. The monster's will to discover life on his own provides support for the nature argument. The monster inadvertently stumbles upon the De Lacey family but that makes all the difference in the world in his life. His desire to learn about life and to know more about everything is fed from his daily observations of the De Lacey family. He not only learns to read as he watches the De Lacey family, but he also learns about human compassion. When the elder De Lacey plays for and the younger De Lacey, she becomes happy and the monsters watches them share an affectionate moment. He is filled with "sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature" (Shelley 93) and feels compelled to understand more. The monster, on his own accord, desires to know more. He goes through the trouble of learning to read and communicate. He comprehends the sweetness of human nature and even expresses hope for it. He reflects on the idea of introducing himself to the family, convinced that when "they should become acquainted with my admiration of their virtues they would compassionate me and overlook my personal deformity" (115). Here we see the ultimate argument for the nature of man. Virginia Brackett observes, "The monster was not 'born' hating others; his hate was taught him by people who refused to see beyond his external appearance to the brilliant warm nature existing just below its surface" (Brackett). Indeed, in the beginning, the monster wants to know good and he wants to be good without anyone telling him that this is the way for him to be.

The most compelling case for the nature argument is how the monster responds when his goodness is shunned. The reaction of the De Lacey family is perhaps the most shocking experience because the monster grew attached to them and so desired to share something with them. When they react to his looks, all of his dreams are shattered; along with those dreams are the ideals the monster hoped to share with anyone. "Frankenstein's creature becomes a monster because he is cruelly ensnared by one of the deepest predispositions of our biological inheritance -- our aversion toward seriously malformed individuals" (Gould). Every encounter with humankind has been disastrous and because he is educated know, he can know why and he can do something about it. The monster "possesses a quick intellect and a natural warmth and goodness that is corrupted only by his exposure to humans remains an indictment of shallow social values and a rigid class structure" (Brackett). He admits that he did not attempt to restrain himself after the incident with the De Lacey family. He is going against his nature when he decides to live a life of crime. In moments of defeat, the monster "finally acknowledges his inability to overcome visceral fear at his ugliness; his resulting despair and loneliness drive him to evil deeds" (Gould). He knew he was a "wretched outcast" (Shelley 115) and decided to live that fate after efforts to live a good life failed. He admits "feelings of revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I did not strive to control them, but allowing myself to be borne away by the stream, I bent my mind towards injury and death" (123). Here is when the monster abandons his good nature because he realizes it is futile. Walter Scoot observes, "The result is, this monster, who was at first, according to his own account, but a harmless monster, becomes ferocious and malignant, in consequence of finding all his approaches to human society repelled with injurious violence and offensive marks of disgust" (Scott). The monster's nature has no doubt changed and it is a willing change at that, but it is inevitable considering the odds. The monster would never stand a chance in this society or any other and his experience and education reinforce this notion.

It is important to view the monster in comparison to his creator, a man who, for all intents and purposes, lives a life that would seem to suggest that nurturing would produce a healthy individual. We discover that Victor has his own nature, too, and it is not as good as the monster's. The nurturing argument is lost when Victor leaves his home and becomes a selfish man that cannot even muster up enough responsibility to do something, anything, with his monster. This man who was raised in a loving home would seem to understand the need for acceptance; we would also think that the man would feel the slightest bit of compassion for the thing. Even if he decided to put the monster out of his misery once he saw how hideous he was would have been better than simply running away and avoiding all responsibility. Gould points out, "Frankenstein's monster was a good man in an appallingly ugly body" (Gould) but Frankenstein was an appalling man inside a good body. All of the nurturing in the world would not have saved Victor because it was his nature to behave selfishly. This is seen early in the novel when Victor full of himself, tells Walton, "I was surprised that among so many men of genius... that I alone should be reserved to discover so astonishing a secret" (Shelley 37). It was always in his nature to be this way. The monster, on the other hand, changes his nature only as a means of survival. He says, "If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly towards you my arch-enemy... I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth" (131). It is not in his nature to do these cruel things - he only commits crimes when he is deprived of every basic human need. The monster knows right from wrong and he choice is one of desperation. Victor never realizes the difference between right and wrong because it is not within his nature to do so.