Pond Creature

Astarion talking with his hands

If Victor Frankenstein is the shitty, abusive parent, of course the Creature has to be the abused and neglected child but by God, did GdT commit.

He did not have to go this hard.

He did not have to film Jacob Elordi like that, curling in on himself, folding all his miles-long limbs up into the fetal position because no one else will hold him. Watching a leaf float away, out of his cold, dark prison, with nothing short of wonder. Gazing at the camera with his big, soulful eyes. Meeting a wild and dangerous creature and gently feeding it a berry.

Being able to speak only one word, the most important one, Victor, because this - his father - is the only thing in the world to him.

And of course Victor, tragically commonly unequipped to handle the responsibility of parenthood, resents him for it. He built the Creature from the ground, exactly as he wanted, carefully chose every bone, every muscle, every neuron in his body. And yet, when he comes to life, when he breathes, and moves, and needs, Victor recoils. All his hard work, the toiling that drove him to near insanity, was only just the beginning. But this, this slow caretaking, this is different: there's no glory in it. Not the excitement of discovery, not the grandiosity of defying God and nature. This work is repetitive, frustrating, exhausting, and Victor very quickly tires of it.

I do not need to explain the metaphor.

This is usually where the story turns around and says, well, it can't be denied that the Creature is horrible to look at. He is violent and dangerous. Victor may have failed but really, can we blame him?

Well. Yes we can.

Page 105, as Victor berates the creature and the creature tries to explain himself: "'Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone?'"

Page 109, the beginning of the creature's side of the story: "I gradually saw plainly the clear stream that supplied me with drink and the trees that shaded me with their foliage. I was delighted when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my ears, proceeded from the throats of the little winged animals who had often intercepted the light from my eyes. [...] Sometimes I tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds but was unable. Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again."

Page 114, as the creature watches the family in the farmhouse: "The silver hair and benevolent countenance of the aged cottager won my reverence, while the gentle manners of the girl enticed my love. He played a sweet mournful air which I percieved drew tears from the eyes of his amiable companion, of which the old man took no notice, until she sobbed audibly; he then pronounced a few sounds, and the fair creature, leaving her work, knelt at his feet. He raised her and smiled with such kindness and affection that I felt sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature; they were a mixture of pain and pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, either from hunger or cold, warmth or food; and I withdrew from the window, unable to bear these emotions."