The Need for Knowledge in Frankenstein

Ignorance is bliss. Or, in a few more words, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein warns against an insatiable thirst for knowledge and discovery as dangerous, especially when the bounds to said knowledge are unknown. In the passage, Frankenstein realizes his creature is the murderer of his brother William, and curses himself for his ambition to become a creator. He learns that the consequences to his creating something he didn’t fully understand were immediate and destructive. Shelley communicates this message through the struggles Frankenstein faces as a result of his creation, but also through carefully-chosen symbols and implicit foreshadowing.

For instance, Shelley's previous use of light as a symbol for knowledge and discovery throughout the novel is expanded upon notably in this passage with the use of lightning in a storm to symbolize the dangerous side of light, or discovery- Frankenstein’s monster. Frankenstein gets caught in a thunderstorm and notes in a simile the way the lightning makes the lake “appear like a vast sheet of fire.” He remembers his late brother, William, lamenting to the sky, “this is thy funeral, this thy dirge,” and effectively foreshadowing the appearance of his murderer: “Lightning illuminated the object and discovered its shape plainly to me…it was the wretch, the filthy daemon to whom I had given life.” Light has before revealed to Frankenstein the world’s obscurest mysteries, but now a lethal lightning was revealing Frankenstein’s most painful consequences- that Frankenstein “[has] turned loose into the world a depraved wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery,” and effectively caused his brother’s death. After this discovery, he is “enveloped in an impenetrable darkness,” which marks the first time he is placed before a conflict to which he has no solution. He has no light to lead him, nor any longer an ambition to discover this light, now that he’s begun to face the deadly consequences of his doing so. As he “[considers] the being whom [he has] cast among mankind, and endowed with the will and power to effect purposes of horror,” he realizes the ramifications of his insatiable ambition for knowledge and discovery and feels the guilt as if he had killed William himself, as it is as if “[his] own spirit [has been] let loose from the grave, and forced to destroy all that was dear to [him].” This turning point is foreshadowed earlier in Frankenstein’s cautionary tale, as it is this conflict from which he hopes to protect Walton in his search for glory and discovery. The symbol of light for the acquisition of knowledge and that of lighting for the consequences of a greed for knowledge emphasize in a chilling way how a seemingly auspicious venture can have adverse consequences.

The central idea of Shelley’s Frankenstein that knowledge can become dangerous comes to a head in this passage when the lethal effects of the doctor’s unchecked thirst for discovery manifest themselves in the death of his loved ones. In the story, it is consequences like this faced by Frankenstien which effectively discourage Walton from continuing into the unknown and putting his ship’s crew at risk just for the sake of his own discovery. Shelley’s use of foreshadowing, symbology, and other figurative language throughout the book contribute to this passage to produce a thrilling climax to the story are integral in highlighting the destructive nature of a greed for discovery past accepted boundaries.

Passage

"During this short voyage I saw the lightning playing on the summit of Mont Blanc in the most beautiful figures. The storm appeared to approach rapidly, and, on landing, I ascended a low hill, that I might observe its progress. It advanced; the heavens were clouded, and I soon felt the rain coming slowly in large drops, but its violence quickly increased.

I quitted my seat, and walked on, although the darkness and storm increased every minute, and the thunder burst with a terrific crash over my head. It was echoed from Salêve, the Juras, and the Alps of Savoy; vivid flashes of lightning dazzled my eyes, illuminating the lake, making it appear like a vast sheet of fire; then for an instant every thing seemed of a pitchy darkness, until the eye recovered itself from the preceding flash. The storm, as is often the case in Switzerland, appeared at once in various parts of the heavens. The most violent storm hung exactly north of the town, over the part of the lake which lies between the promontory of Belrive and the village of Copêt. Another storm enlightened Jura with faint flashes; and another darkened and sometimes disclosed the Môle, a peaked mountain to the east of the lake.

While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific, I wandered on with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud, 'William, dear angel! this is thy funeral, this thy dirge!' As I said these words, I perceived in the gloom a figure which stole from behind a clump of trees near me; I stood fixed, gazing intently: I could not be mistaken. A flash of lightning illuminated the object, and discovered its shape plainly to me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect more hideous than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the filthy dæmon, to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be (I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced of its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree for support. The figure passed me quickly, and I lost it in the gloom. Nothing in human shape could have destroyed the fair child. He was the murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence of the idea was an irresistible proof of the fact. I thought of pursuing the devil; but it would have been in vain, for another flash discovered him to me hanging among the rocks of the nearly perpendicular ascent of Mont Salêve, a hill that bounds Plainpalais on the south. He soon reached the summit, and disappeared.

I remained motionless. The thunder ceased; but the rain still continued, and the scene was enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. I revolved in my mind the events which I had until now sought to forget: the whole train of my progress toward the creation; the appearance of the works of my own hands at my bedside; its departure. Two years had now nearly elapsed since the night on which he first received life; and was this his first crime? Alas! I had turned loose into the world a depraved wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery; had he not murdered my brother?

No one can conceive the anguish I suffered during the remainder of the night, which I spent, cold and wet, in the open air. But I did not feel the inconvenience of the weather; my imagination was busy in scenes of evil and despair. I considered the being whom I had cast among mankind, and endowed with the will and power to effect purposes of horror, such as the deed which he had now done, nearly in the light of my own vampire, my own spirit let loose from the grave, and forced to destroy all that was dear to me."

Works Cited

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor, & Jones, 1818.