Frankenstein: The Pursuit of Knowledge

To be informed should be a relatively good thing. "Knowledge is power", as one might say. We exibit in The Monk that knowledge has the power to endow many benefits to its beholder, for instance, that Matilda should know how to suck poison from snake bites to save Ambrosio's life. However, sometimes it is lack of knowledge, or innocence, that is better suited for a person, as when Antonia is purposefully denied the uneditted version of the bible to spare her of learning harshness. For Victor Frankenstein, of the book Frankenstein, he exibits both of these effects and their opposites.

Victor is a very well read student of outdated science and philosophy. With this knowing, he made it his life's endeavor to be able to create life in objects. Knowing about what he did inspired him to dream of his ideal occupation, which is a very noble quest. Victor was persistent in attaining fluency of the expired art and his reward was further want of information so that it might occupy the rest of his life. This, I believe, is a worthy cause for knowledge.

Despite the wonderful opportunity the ancient studies of animation gave Victor, his store of knowledge was quite incomplete by just knowing of this one area. Wanting to extend his knowledge, he went off to college, but, due to his abence of earlier lectures, he became biased against modern chemistry since he did not understand even the basics of the far advanced class. He clung to the old arts that he knew well and did not regard the new as credible. A gracious teacher, M. Waldmon, explains, "A man would make but a very sorry chemist, if he attended to that department of human knowledge alone. If your wish is to become really a man of science, and not merely a petty experimentalist, I should advise you to apply to every branch of natural philosophy..." (Pg. 28). Victor was unsure of whether or not he should continue learning into a modernized version of his beloved philosophy, even if it seemingly had nothing to do with his goals. With only theories of old, Victor would have surely been at a severe disadvantage while searching for life and, if Waldmon's prediction is correct, would have ended in mediocrity and waste.

Victor lived a sheltered childhood. In this fashion, he was spared the trauma of ghost stories and, at the same time, fear of the night, darkness, and all things regularly associated with it that are steriotypically frightening. Victor seems to be proud of himself as he explains his special situation. With his lack of fear of normally disturbing things, he is able to pursue his goal in digging up bones and working in grave yards to fashion his human creature. In this instance, his not knowing of ghost stories is beneficial to his cause.

Regarding the same lack of knowledge, he finds himself completely unprepared for the arrival of his creation to life. He explains his actions while in search for the monster, "I threw the door forcibly open, as children are accustomed to do when they expect a spectre to stand in waiting for them on the other side" (Pg. 37). If he was boasting of his courage towards the objects of ghost stories, he was then trembling at this very real monster. Having not experienced similar fright, he is ill prepared to deal with anything of the like. Victor is reduced to childish antics because he knows not how else to approach the situation. His lack of knowledge has rendered him lame and ineffective in the search of his monster.

Victor Frankenstien's knowing of profound sciences enables him great feats of intellectual progress. At the same time, it inhibits him to rely on it soley and without up to date information that would most definitely speed his actions. Not knowing seems to be the more tragic of the two prospects. To be ignorant of ghost stories granted him freedom in the dark, but only at the price of being unprepared for the sight of his demon. Knowledge is power; that much cannot be denied. The difference in the outcome is the favor in which the scale of power leans.

The Monk: To Fall in Lust

I do not believe that Ambrosio ever truly loved either of his mistresses. His state of mind, personality, and upbringing do not strike me as having qualities that foster love. His extreme affections for the two girls should rather have the label of lust.

Love is a curious subject to which there are many definitions. Ambrosio questions Antonia whether or not she has felt the effects of a man who she may be in love with, "Have you seen no man, Antonia, whom, though never seen before, you seemed long to have sought? whose form, though a stranger's was familiar to your eyes? the sound of whose voice soothes you, pleased you, penetrated to your very soul? in whose presence you rejoiced, for whose absence you lamented? with whom your heart seemed to expand, and in whose bosom, with confidence unbounded, you reposed the cares of your own?" (Pg 224) Upon infatuation with Antonia, he abandoned Matilda's bed and pined for that of Antonia. Ambrosio, at the time of his questioning, was boiling with madness for Antonia's embrace, and so it was reflected in his opinion of love. This is apparent in the words and subjects he used to describe it: familiar form, soothing, pleasing and penetrating voice, expanding heart and bosom. His deprivation of pleasure, previously satisfied by Matilda, left him desperate for such an encounter with the new object of his fantasies. He was bluntly set on having his way with Antonia and this state of mind does not strike me as being romantically in love. In the same manner, Ambrosio was too preoccupied with exploring the prospect of Matilda's charms and pleasures to be too interested in her personality and, thus, did not romantically love her.

Due to the circumstances of his monk upbringing he should only have been permitted the love of heaven and that of friends. At the same time he was deprived exposure to romantic love. This contributes to Ambrosio's lack of it when dealing with his mistresses. He does not love them properly because he does not know how to. Ignorance has left him uneducated in such arts. Ambrosio had no idea how to approach Matilda, in her moment of suicidal intentions, and only knew of seduction to secure Antonia's fate with him. His lack of knowledge and experience inevitably doomed both his mistresses.

Ambrosio's personality is such that, in his love life, he needs constantly increasing stimulation in order to sustain gratification. This becomes extremely apparent when he discovers he can no longer stand the company of Matilda and her favors of love. The narrator comments, "Her charms becoming accustomed to him, they ceased to excite the same desires which at first they had inspired. The delirium of passion being past, he had leisure to observe every trifling defect; where none were to be found, satiety made him fancy them. ... when the moment of passion was over, he quitted her with disgust, and his humour, naturally inconstant, made him sigh impatiently for variety." (Pg 202-203) The narrator helps the reader to understand his personality to this extent and, once again, it is apparent that physical pleasure is a prevalent theme. His character thrives on this passion of the body and with this observation comes to light a preference that reflects his flightly personality. This obsession, again, does little to kindle romantic love.

Ambrosio's lack of experience and theme of bodily pleasure, in both his mind and personality, had left his romantic life to ruin. If he ever intended to love Matilda or Antonia it never became apparent, for his insatiable lust for their lovely charms distracted this noble pursuit. With these hindrances, it is not possible for Ambrosio to have ever loved the two girls for anything more than the moment of physical satisfaction.

The Monk: Secret Identities

A theme that I felt recurred was the effect of hiding ones identity. At the start of the novel, Antonia refused to unveil her appearance to the inquiring Dons, Lorenzo and Christoval. Her reason for being so shy was, "It is not the custom in Murcia-" (Pg 14). In my opinion, her timid nature was to be expected as a result of one so young and inexperienced being sought after by curious eyes. In my own experience in the realm of courting, I find it hard to approach someone who I cannot see or perceive fully. In one mind, I can sympathize with the two men. In another, perhaps the lady wished not to establish a relation and thus unveiling her attractive qualities would have done little to preserve herself from their pursuit. In her case I support her venture to disguise herself. The young ROsario of the Monk society also strived to retain a secret identity. This had worked over the course of about two years, however, Rosario had professed to Ambrosio, only at his inquiring of Rosario's sudden melancholy, that Rosario was not a young lad but a young woman. She pleaded her case, "I am Matilda; you are her beloved!" (Pg 55). This statement was made all the more powerful by Rosario previously explaining the story of Matilda, while pretending to be her brother, at which Ambrosio expressed pity towards. I was a bit disappointed at the time that the author Lewis decided to unveil the identiy of Matilda because I was expecting something much deeper and tedious about their relationship. Now that I am much further in the story I can appreciate the intricacies of how all the characters are related and I am simultaneously satisfied at the depth at which Matilda and Ambrosio's relationship is described. I believe that her securing his interest via the painting was underhanded of her and that perhaps if she only wanted his admiration, like she claimed to, then she would have been satisfied with his purchase of her portrait. This inclines me to believe that even before her statement: "My bosom burns with love, with unutterable love, and love must be its return" (Pg 80), that she knew this would be the result of her spending time with Ambrosio. This situation mirrors that of her previous love in which she entered the servitude of a house under the pretense of being closer to the husband and was banished due to her confession, and this is why she should know that Ambrosio should not act any differently. All of her previous statements of admiration sufficing her appetite, in my opinion, were more in effect to fool herself into believing that she could belong, without consequence, by his side all the while still entertaining thoughts of passionate love. Another instance of identity concealing is that of the Marquis de las Cisternas. His mentor suggested to him that he might gain more friends by denying his name of status and soley going by Don Raymond. I believe it is good advice, but inevitably people wish to associate with those they can relate to on an economic level. As noble as it is to found friendship on basis of personality, one may find it awkward and even offensive to discover the true status of their friend. I must also mention that the Bleeding Nun wished to hide her identity as Beatrice de las Cisternas from Raymond, who is of her decent. I do not recall comprehending why she decided to keep this from him, since he was fated to discover her bones and put her to rest.