Mood and Nature in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

Introduction: Curiosity and Gloom

Frankenstein, by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, begins with a description of the protagonist's background in the first person — partly through letters in the preface — establishing him as intensely curious. A gloomy mood surrounds that curiosity throughout the entire book, and the reader understands his awe of nature very well by the end of the second chapter. We meet Elizabeth and learn she is orphaned, which sets a mood of loss and separation. Frankenstein goes off to school and makes his first foray into the forbidden realm of human reanimation, yet he does not fully disclose what he has done — only that it has captured his interest completely: "The astonishment which I had at first experienced on this discovery soon gave place to delight and rapture. After so much time spent in painful labour, to arrive at once at the summit of my desires was the most gratifying consummation of my toils." (Shelley, 1818)

The description of the thunderstorm in Chapter 2 is a foreshadowing of things to come and also sets a mood of human smallness within God's universe. The lightning striking and completely destroying the tree symbolizes the danger of tampering with the natural order of things — precisely what Frankenstein plans to do — and it also symbolizes the fearful curiosity that drives Victor Frankenstein forward even when he knows he is pushing beyond every boundary.

Thunderstorms as Foreshadowing and Symbol

Thunderstorms fill the novel, and each one signals a new revelation, reminding us that the power Victor Frankenstein seeks rightfully belongs only to God. In his article "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1818): A Summary of Modern Criticism," Philip V. Allingham (2002) demonstrates the importance of nature, and particularly of thunderstorms, in the novel. He notes that John Clubbe observed how many people of the time believed that human character was profoundly influenced by climate. (Clubbe, 1991) Mary Shelley may have been blaming climate, at least in part, for the fatal flaws in both Victor Frankenstein and his monster.

The first thunderstorm, at the end of Chapter 2, is an awakening of tremendous power for Victor. The description brings the scene up close and alive — we almost feel it alongside him, even though relatively few details are given. Shelley's focus on the destruction of the giant oak tree parallels the coming destruction of the main character. Victor himself points to this incident at the end of the chapter, saying his guardian angel was trying to warn him of the ruin ahead.

A second, truly violent thunderstorm occurs when Victor returns to Geneva and catches sight of the creature near the lake. This scene recalls the end of Chapter 2, echoing its mood, and Victor reacts with both fear and awe. He is transfixed by the storm — especially the lightning — which simultaneously reveals the creature and confirms that it is the murderer of his brother William. Despair intensifies as we see that Victor is trapped within a cycle of his own guilt. He first greets the momentous storm with something like joy, calling it William's funeral march, but that joy quickly turns to despair when he understands who is responsible for the death.

Nature, Climate, and the Gothic Mood

This novel is almost Gothic in character — the literary mode that followed the Romantic period — and descriptions of stormy weather consistently establish a dark, morose atmosphere. Shelley uses thunderstorms to signal doom at three crucial points: first in Chapter 2, when Victor discovers his passion for science; next in Chapter 7, when Victor sees the monster; and finally in Chapter 23, when the monster takes his revenge by killing Elizabeth, Victor's new bride, because Victor had destroyed the mate he had promised to create for him.

John Clubbe's article examines the importance of thunderstorms both in Mary Shelley's novel and in her life, as well as in the works of other writers of her time. Clubbe describes the unusual climate in Europe in 1816, considers its significance, and observes how it appears in the writings of authors around Mary Shelley — particularly those who spent that summer at Geneva on the lake. It is no surprise that this climatic phenomenon surfaces in her novel, where it symbolizes evil and the unknown. Lightning had long served as a dramatic voice from heaven in literature, and the Romantic poets regarded it as a revelation signaling dramatic change. Clubbe argues that every appearance of thunderstorms in Frankenstein carries inner significance: for Shelley, lightning signifies what cannot be known — the secrets of the universe. That lightning could both create and destroy life is the central theme surrounding the novel, and that it, along with all things in creation, may be used for either good or evil.