She’s Got It.

The time has come. The Fates are here.

This is my application for 103.1 WRNR’s Lollapalooza Correspondent Search.

Grawr.

Anna Will Make It to Chicago

The Making Of… Neo-Literature

Within the past few decades, the mode of communication in our society has expanded significantly along with the growth of technology. Today, most Americans are fully aware of cell phones, social networking outlets, and other forms of electronic media. While some of us become hooked on the expediency of such forms, others detest the addiction that seems to come with the lazy convenience of it all. I would put myself in the first category. One of my favorite past times is cuddling up with my iPod and listening to my favorite podcasts. A decade ago, the word “podcast” hadn’t even been created. So how can one argue today that a podcast could be granted literary merit? Within cases like MuggleCast and National Public Radio’s This American Life, the argument is more than something to toy with –its completely justified.


For those readers that aren’t fully versed in the capabilities of today’s technology, a short overview of podcasting may be necessary. Anyone with computer recording and editing capabilities can create a podcast. The point is to raise discussion on any subject matter, ranging from Lost plot conspiracy theory, to restaurant reviews, to politics talk. Most podcasts are released on some sort of schedule, some being daily, others being weekly or monthly. The majority of these are available for free download off of iTunes, making them extremely accessible to the iPod carrying-set of Americans.
I was initially drawn into podcasting through MuggleCast, a podcast started in 2005 around the budding popularity of JK Rowling’s hit book series, Harry Potter. This particular show started in the middle of the fandom craze, when theory and excitement over the story was at its height. The talk show hosts theorized, debated, and joked about everything Harry Potter. I was fascinated at the idea of a group of high school-aged kids talking in such depth about my favorite book series. I never missed downloading an episode and listening to it on my walk home from school every day. I laughed along and wrote in occasionally, adding to the cyber community that gained momentum around MuggleCast. I expected to see pigs start to fly. Here were hundreds of young budding MuggleCast fans, all participating in actual literary discussion. Never before had I heard kids get so worked up over whether or not a book character would die at the end of a series, or the history behind Rowling’s language she created in her novels. It was refreshing and exciting for me to see my generation going back to the books, all thanks to the spark that was raised in part to MuggleCast.


But podcasting can be more than just an inspiration to participate in literary discussion. It can be a literary discussion in itself, as observed in discussion topics of MuggleCast like, ‘does etymology factor into Rowling’s creation of spells and people’s names?’ This seems pretty advanced for the mind of the average MuggleCast listener, whose age usually lies somewhere around 15, but the level of discussion is both engaging and educational.


But moving beyond this, some podcasts have taken this idea of incorporating traditional literary process into their entire show. Take NPR’s This American Life. On a weekly basis, TAL’s host Ira Glass examines a common theme of every day life and brings his listeners a variety of stories on that subject. In episode #109 “Notes On Camp,” Glass uses stories of current campers, as well as those adults with stories of summer camp, to bridge the gap between summer camp lovers… and everyone else. The topic sounds simple, and the expected format approach may be a campfire-style story telling that would fit in right along with the subject matter. In reality though, TAL producers reach far beyond the simplicity of that approach to bring an analytical discussion of the real phenomenon at hand here: what is with the fascination people have with summer camp? And why does it create such a close-knit connection between those involved? 
Since This American Life starts off its life as a radio show every Sunday afternoon, the production of creating the show goes beyond the relaxed atmosphere of most podcasts. Each story is carefully selected for its emotion-evoking and thought-provoking power.

Paying close mind to the subject at hand, journalists associated with TAL start on the field, interviewing those involved in the story, and recording their sides. Then, inserting the careful narration it takes to visualize the situation for the listener, a story is then born. Each addition to the show must contribute to the theme at hand, be entertaining, and deliver a bigger message. These three principles only come into harmony within the most perfect circumstances, and they must be harnessed by the NPR journalists for every weekly edition of This American Life.

One thing that remains common among all narratives told on This American Life is the height understanding between the narrator and that whom the story is about. David Himmel exists at Camp Greenwoods as the “Big Man on Campus.” Through his guitar ditties about all the boys he watches over in the cabin, and being big brother for all who are under his eye of advisement, David is looked at as the Holy Grail of all counselors. But based on his unassuming way of speaking, the listener would never guess this. It takes the admiring words of his young campers to really convey how much all the little boys want to be him. This is then perfectly synced in with the explanations of journalist Adam Davidson to create a story that encompasses the whole of the situation.
And just as writing requires planning and formatting, so does a podcast. This American Life Host Ira Glass once said that for every four stories that may be featured on one episode of This American Life, about ten to fifteen were researched by a team of developers. The journalists must travel and seek out the person with the experience worth forming a story around. Then, they must come up with an angle that will fit the theme for the week’s episode. There must also be a nice balance between first hand narration and that done by the journalist. Journalist Davidson approaches this first story in “Notes on Camp,” titled “Note One: Mr. Popular” by setting up the question, “Whats so cool about David Himmel?” It’s almost comical how different campers answer the question, in their own rambling, childlike approach. As a listener, I’m amused and eager to know the answer.

At this point, you may be asking yourself, ‘Why does all this matter?’ Well, the answer lies in my original argument. While many traditionalists may say intellectual thought cannot cross with the development of social medias today, I disagree. The process that goes into creating a podcast can deliver a conversation among listeners that matches, and even exceeds, that received from book-based literature. By harnessing a story, molding it into something conceivable by an audience, and inserting critical input, the producers behind MuggleCast and This American Life have honed in on the highest objectives of podcasting: the creation of something worthy of literary merit.

Still, those that stick by the tried and true book method of scholarly communication have often criticized this glorification of podcasting as a means of scholarly work. Birkerts says, “Everything about modern (or is it postmodern?) life carries us away from the state that is propitious for deep reading. The generations now coming up, reared on music and visual media, have reflexes and combinatory capacities that are something new in the world…. In itself it is neither good nor bad. But we have to see that it does not bode well in the long run for certain kinds of concentrated or deep reading” (148). Here, Birkerts makes a great point that the growth in technology has altered the way of thinking for present generations. Along the lines of different reflexes, Birkerts would probably agree that people that immerse themselves in current technologies have shorter attention spans. The human mind is forever feeding off of its surroundings, and technology like podcasting and social media outlets feed into our exposure.


However, I have to be in disagreement with Birkerts where he explains that a state of “deep reading” has become less prominent in a world influenced by technology beyond the book. The intellectual stimulation one receives through podcasting is one that submerges the listener into a deeper level of awareness. Through listening instead of reading, the reader is surrounded by the message. Furthermore, being able to connect the subject with a human voice adds a personal connection that draws the listener in. With podcasting, emotion behind the words on a page is present. Spoken word has the power of bringing an argument to life, something impossible with a book. This life-like capability makes “deep reading” of a podcast something inevitable and thoroughly meaningful.


The last facet of scholarly podcasting that I would like to address ties in closely to the power of spoken word. Birkerts, and other naysayers like him, fail to address the fact that the book was born directly from rhetoric. The early philosophers like Isocrates, Plato, and Aristotle had not a book, but their own voices to present and spread their word. Oratory exists as its own fine art with the basis of human improvement. With the creation of podcasting, it is transformed into something more readily available to the masses.

Since history has been proven a circular phenomenon, it is only natural for the spread of ideas to return back to spoken word. While there lies something sacred in the reading of books, it is unmatched by the improvements made to argument by podcasting. Like the rain returns from the clouds back to the earth, the circular cycle of scholarly development continues. My line of reasoning can only be improved by the direct experience of listening to a podcast, so I implore you to seek out your own discovery of this medium. Grab your iPod, and never be afraid to click, “Download.” After all, you never know what intellectual development you may reach.

Podcasting: Our Generation’s Contribution to Intellectual Thought

Within the past few decades, the mode of communication in our society has expanded significantly along with the growth of technology. Today, most Americans are fully aware of cell phones, social networking outlets, and other forms of electronic media. While some of us become hooked on the expediency of such forms, others detest the addiction that seems to come with the lazy convenience of it all. I would put myself in the first category. One of my favorite past times is cuddling up with my iPod and listening to my favorite podcasts. A decade ago, the word “podcast” hadn’t even been created. So how can one argue today that a podcast could be granted literary merit? Within cases like MuggleCast and National Public Radio’s This American Life, the argument is more than something to toy with –its completely justified.
For those readers that aren’t fully versed in the capabilities of today’s technology, a short overview of podcasting may be necessary. Anyone with computer recording and editing capabilities can create a podcast. The point is to raise discussion on any subject matter, ranging from Lost plot conspiracy theory, to restaurant reviews, to politics talk. Most podcasts are released on some sort of schedule, some being daily, others being weekly or monthly. The majority of these are available for free download off of iTunes, making them extremely accessible to the iPod carrying-set of Americans.
I was initially drawn into podcasting through MuggleCast, a podcast started in 2005 around the budding popularity of JK Rowling’s hit book series, Harry Potter. This particular show started in the middle of the fandom craze, when theory and excitement over the story was at its height. The talk show hosts theorized, debated, and joked about everything Harry Potter. I was fascinated at the idea of a group of high school-aged kids talking in such depth about my favorite book series. I never missed downloading an episode and listening to it on my walk home from school every day. I laughed along and wrote in occasionally, adding to the cyber community that gained momentum around MuggleCast. I expected to see pigs start to fly. Here were hundreds of young budding MuggleCast fans, all participating in actual literary discussion. Never before had I heard kids get so worked up over whether or not a book character would die at the end of a series, or the history behind Rowling’s language she created in her novels. It was refreshing and exciting for me to see my generation going back to the books, all thanks to the spark that was raised in part to MuggleCast.
But podcasting can be more than just an inspiration to participate in literary discussion. It can be a literary discussion in itself, as observed in discussion topics of MuggleCast like, ‘does etymology factor into Rowling’s creation of spells and people’s names?’ This seems pretty advanced for the mind of the average MuggleCast listener, whose age usually lies somewhere around 15, but the level of discussion is both engaging and educational.
But moving beyond this, some podcasts have taken this idea of incorporating traditional literary process into their entire show. Take NPR’s This American Life. On a weekly basis, TAL’s host Ira Glass examines a common theme of every day life and brings his listeners a variety of stories on that subject. In episode #109 “Notes On Camp,” Glass uses stories of current campers, as well as those adults with stories of summer camp, to bridge the gap between summer camp lovers… and everyone else. The topic sounds simple, and the expected format approach may be a campfire-style story telling that would fit in right along with the subject matter. In reality though, TAL producers reach far beyond the simplicity of that approach to bring an analytical discussion of the real phenomenon at hand here: what is the fascination of summer camp? And why does it create such a close-knit connection between those involved?
Since This American Life starts off its life as a radio show every Sunday afternoon, the production of creating the show goes beyond the relaxed atmosphere of most podcasts. Each story is carefully selected for its emotion-evoking and thought-provoking power. Paying close mind to the subject at hand, journalists associated with TAL start on the field, interviewing those involved in the story, and recording their sides. Then, inserting the careful narration it takes to visualize the situation for the listener, a story is then born. Each addition to the show must contribute to the theme at hand, be entertaining, and deliver a bigger message. These three principles only come into harmony within the most perfect circumstances, and they must be harnessed by the NPR journalists for every weekly edition of This American Life.
At this point, you may be asking yourself, ‘Why does all this matter?’ Well, the answer lies in my original argument. While many traditionalists may say intellectual thought cannot cross with the development of social medias today, I disagree. The process that goes into creating a podcast can deliver a conversation among listeners that matches, and even exceeds, that received from book-based literature. By harnessing a story, molding it into something conceivable by an audience, and inserting critical input, the producers behind MuggleCast and This American Life have honed in on the highest objective of podcasting: the creation of something worthy of literary merit.
Still, those that stick by the tried and true book method of scholarly communication have often criticized this glorification of podcasting as a means of scholarly work. Birkerts says, “Everything about modern (or is it postmodern?) life carries us away from the state that is propitious for deep reading. The generations now coming up, reared on music and visual media, have reflexes and combinatory capacities that are something new in the world…. In itself it is neither good nor bad. But we have to see that it does not bode well in the long run for certain kinds of concentrated or deep reading” (148). Here, Birkerts makes a great point that the growth in technology has altered the way of thinking for present generations. Along the lines of different reflexes, Birkerts would probably agree that people that immerse themselves in current technologies have shorter attention spans. The human mind is forever feeding off of its surroundings, and technology like podcasting and social media outlets feed into our exposure.
However, I have to be in disagreement with Birkerts where he explains that a state of “deep reading” has become less prominent in a world influenced by technology beyond the book. The intellectual stimulation one receives through podcasting is one that submerges the listener into a deeper level of awareness. Through listening instead of reading, the reader is surrounded by the message. Furthermore, being able to connect the subject with a human voice adds a personal connection that draws the listener in. With podcasting, emotion behind the words on a page is present. Spoken word has the power of bringing an argument to life, something impossible with a book. This life-like capability makes “deep reading” of a podcast something inevitable and thoroughly meaningful.
The last facet of scholarly podcasting that I would like to address ties in closely to the power of spoken word. Birkerts, and other naysayers like him, fail to address the fact that the book was born directly from rhetoric. The early philosophers like Isocrates, Plato, and Aristotle had not a book, but their own voices to present and spread their word. Oratory exists as its own fine art with the basis of human improvement. With the creation of podcasting, it is transformed into something more readily available to the masses.
Since history has been proven a circular phenomenon, it is only natural for the spread of ideas to return back to spoken word. While there lies something sacred in the reading of books, it is unmatched by the improvements made to argument by podcasting. Like the rain returns from the clouds back to the earth, the circular cycle of scholarly development continues. My line of reasoning can only be improved by the direct experience of listening to a podcast, so I implore you to seek out your own discovery of this medium. Grab your iPod, and never be afraid to click, “Download.” After all, you never know what intellectual development you may reach.
**I promise that I have abided by Washington College’s Honor Code

Anna Burress

This American Life: The Literary Works of Our Time

Prove: Literary merit should be given to NPR’s This American Life Podcast.

-Returns to the origin of communication and establishment of rhetoric –> Spoken word

-In it’s development, consists of developing a central theme, exploring it’s real world application, seeking out stories and conducting journalistic research, and then forming it into a story that can be experienced solely through the auditory sense.

-There is also merit in being a close listener–> comparable to the close reading of Birkerts. (Although this is not for everyone, many can engross themselves in the podcast experience that Ira Glass hosts.)

Difference is, you’re not reading with your eyes, taking in something with your eyes isn’t as hard intellectually as taking something in with your eyes… “bookish” persona of glasses

-Episode #109, Notes on Camp –> connection built through the close reporting of the TAL contributers, listener can put their self in the place of the campers and their love of summer tradition. PATHOS! Attention to detail, outline of the process to produce one episode…

-Benefit of the digital revolution: vast spread of ideas, podcasts are available for free through computers

- Leads to downfalls, This American Life can only be accessed in podcast form if you have a computer, ipod with downloading capabilities… also can be accessed every Sunday through National Public Radio every Sunday at 4 pm.

-Birkerts says,

I often find that a novel, even a well-written and compelling novel, can become a blur to me soon after I’ve finished reading it. I recollect perfectly the feeling of reading it, the mood I occupied, but I am less sure about the narrative details. It is almost as if the book were, as Wittgenstein said of his propositions, a ladder to be climbed and then discarded after it has served its purpose.

….This shows how even someone who says that deep reading is the experience we are attaining through reading novels, he can admit that he doesn’t remember the experience behind everything he read…. Maybe the real holy grail of literary work is the experience of the here and now. Deep reading and deep listening could be only a temporary benefit. Just as Birkerts explains his loss of memory of reading, I couldn’t reiterate every TAL episode I’ve listened to over the years.

The Spoken Word

Since I was little, I have always found it theraputic to listen to the spoken word. Every night, I would fall asleep to my mom reading me a story. And when I became hooked on the Harry Potter series during middle school, I discovered the technology of podcasting. I listened to one particualar podcast, MuggleCast, religiously every sunday night. Although it never put me to sleep the way my mom’s story telling would, I would always feel engaged and relaxed as I listened to Ben Shoen and Andrew Sims discuss everything from theories to recent news. It was my favorite form of media.

By the time I entered college, my podcast addiction had grown. Now, I probably download 3-4 podcasts a day, ranging from MuggleCast, to Keith and the Girl’s comedy podcast, and my new favorite, NPR’s This American Life. I’ve been an avid fan of Ira Glass for many years, and This American Life is the perfect example of literary works becoming globalized through the advent of technology.

Take for example, Episode 109 “Notes on Camp.” This episode is known for being one of the most downloaded episode since the radio show (that since it’s birth has been converted into downloadable podcast form every sunday) started in 1998. The structure is such: reporters go out in search of a story on a particular subject. This week’s subject is stories about summer camp. They then interview people first hand about the subject, digging to find the real emotional connection of the subject, something interesting that listeners probably don’t know, and why all that matters. Then there comes the challege of making this story work with only the aid of the spoken word. The reporter must create a story out of the raw spoken materials that the listener will be able to affectively visualize and connect with. Oh, and all of this magic must fit into roughly one hour.

That alone is an art form.

Which is why I don’t understand how anyone could say that this form of podcasting ISN’T a credible literary resource. Just because actual READING with eyes isn’t taking place, doesn’t mean that the listener isn’t gaining as much insight as one would if the content were on paper. Similar to a book, a podcast must have form. It must have a beginning and an end. It also must recreate a scene for the reader. It takes effort and much writing in preparation.

On the other side, the “reader” of podcasts must also put in similar effort to get the full benefit from a podcast. Attention, just like in reading, is needed for listening.

Distortion

He can only see an arm’s reach in front of him, as he slowly walks down an unfamiliar hallway. The floorboards creek with every cautious step he takes, creeping further and further down the musty, wooden paneled corridor. His dimly lit flashlight illuminates majestic, life-size portraits on the wall. One by one he can see flickers of Stepford families past. As he looks them over, something strange jumps out right away. Glowing beauties stand beside chubby older men with crow’s feet and coke bottle glasses. Occasionally, a smattering of smiling children is also present.
Suddenly, the quiet, serene soundtrack turns suspenseful. The man with the flashlight is an intruder, being secretly hunted by the Stepford husbands. In a matter of seconds, they surround him in their burgundy coats and penny loafers, determined looks on their faces. The time has come for another transformation. In one swift moment, fear sets in on the face of the man with the flashlight. The screen goes black.
Scenes like this can’t help but leave viewers with that prickly feeling on the back of their neck. The suspense builds and you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken. As humans, it is in our nature to respond to imaginary fear evoked through film, as well as novels. And like The Stepford Wives, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstien uses horror elements to get a bigger message across. Although it may not seem apparent at first glance, a closer look at these two works shows that The Stepford Wives and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein both reveal that society’s conception of perfection is inherently skewed.
One of the first monsters introduced to American popular culture was Frankenstein. Named for the creature created by Victor Frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s 19th Century novel, his beginnings were never to be a green monster with an intelligence level of a caveman that wreaks havoc on our cities and towns . In the novel, the scientist endeavors to create a being of beauty. He says, “His limbs were in proportion, I had selected his features as beautiful.” It is not until after he toils away at work for months on end that he realizes his final product may come off as more grotesque than he planned. And as the story goes, Frankenstein is then abandoned and subjugated; left on his own will to survive in a society that bases acceptance on outward appearance.
This situation in The Stepford Wives is very similar. Like Victor, Clair Wellington has the vision of the perfect being. She strives to create a husband for herself that represents outward perfection and grace. She wants a perfectly functioning member of upper-class society. Unlike Victor, her vision is successful and she goes on to create an entire community of beautiful housewives, whose appearance is tailored by their husband and whose personality is controlled via a remote.
Both Frankenstein and the wives of Stepford are mere products of their surroundings. They never asked to be created in the model of perfection. They are judged from the moment of “birth” and are taken advantage of. Their own wants and wills come second to those of their creator. Frankenstein’s “monster” yearns for companionship and never receives it. The wives of Stepford are slaves to the whims of their husbands.
Taking a step back to the scene first described, a new outlook is born. The horror of creation has lead to an all out manhunt. In this scene, the partner of one Stepford man is about to meet his demise. The men of Stepford have come for him and are about to send him to the creation lab for redesign. He will be stripped of his former personality and in its place will be a new set of abs and a different behavior. The way this story is filmed adds to the horror aspect of the situation. The growing suspense and darkness is much like that in the first novel of it’s kind, Frankenstein.
The situations of the ‘created’ can be looked at one-dimensionally as purely unfortunate, but there are larger implications at play here. The society that the ‘created’ are brought into are judging them based on a warped perception of beauty. Frankenstein’s monster can be looked at as beautiful for his will and determination to learn to talk and function humanely, based alone on what he sees the humans around him doing. His development as an alien to the most basic form of humanity, creation, is something to be honored. His inner drive is beautiful and deserves recognition as such. On the other side, the wives of Stepford are scary and regrettable creations because they are devoid of real emotion or individuality. Keeping in mind that it is not their fault, they aren’t truly beautiful even if they are perceived as such.
From this, one can learn that our society’s view of perfection is dangerous. Just look at the industry behind current media: It is evident that today’s entertainment industry is fraught with vanity and the depression and pain that can come from it. The subjugation of monsters like what Frankenstein has become and the danger than can come from perfecting creation is a sign of a sadly anti-intellectual climate and the unfortunate dire importance of looks. These media outlets should be a message to society to begin to look beyond outward appearance. We are inherently trained to think in this pattern, yet it must be broken before it breaks us.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Ed. Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin Books, 2003.
The Stepford Wives. Dir. Frank Oz. 2004. Film.

Stepford Ideas

Once again, I find myself on the subject of beauty for our next essay. I just realized that the last time I wrote on the subject of Frankenstein, I wrote about how the beautiful and familiar can turn scary and dangerous. For this paper, I want to focus on how the movie, “The Stepford Wives” demonstrates how creation can distort beauty and people’s judgment on something… just like Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” does. In “The Stepford Wives” the women are created to be the perfect, beautiful housewife, but on the inside there lies imperfection, and a dark history. In the novel we read, Frankenstein is pure on the inside, and is just the product of his situation and surroundings. On the outiside, however, he is seen as a monster.

Both of these forms of media shed light on how heavily society basis their opinions based on outward appearance. Also, in both the initial judgment was false.

A close reading of “The Stepford Wives” shows many elements suspense and intrigue in the cinematography. There are two scenes I want to focus on: the one where Robert is walking down the darkened hallway of all the Stepford family portraits, and anther were the truth behind the creation scheme is revealed at the coming out dance. The first scene has a realy suspenseful build up with darkened lighting and slow, scary music to enhance the mood. As the family portraits are slowly revealed as Robert walks down the hallway, the horror behind the perfect community is illuminated. As understanding becomes clearer, a deeper awareness of a message is revealed. Society’s view is skewed.

Tainted Beauty

Anna Burress
English 101
Writing Assignment #2

Tainted Beauty

I pledge that I have abided by the WC Honor Code.

Mary Shelley, author of the classic novel Frankenstein, uses the literally device of intertextuality to convey multifaceted meaning in pivotal points of her story. One great example worth analyzing can be found in Chapter 10, when Shelley inserts an excerpt from the poem, “Mutability” by her husband Percy Shelley. Though the inclusion of this text,
Within this place in the novel, Victor Frankenstein has awoken surrounded by nature and is walking through a forest, alone. The bulk of this chapter is dedicated to the internal monologue Victor goes through while experiencing his surroundings with all of his senses. As he walks, he is overcome by the idea of how small people really are compared to the grandeur of the trees in the forest, the rain, and the wind.
Very abruptly, the reader enters a passage from Mutability. There is no introduction or happenstance behind its insertion in this moment in the novel. This is significant because it shows that Shelley wanted the message of the poem to blend in with her own narrative of Victor’s internal monologue. The reader could take this poem as something that Victor is thinking as he walks through the forest.
Another thing worth noticing here is the author of the poem is Shelley’s husband. The question arises of whether or not Shelley uses her husband’s work for its quality or for the mere benefit of aiding him in gaining exposure. The answer can be found in whether or not her excerpt benefits her narrative.
By including this section of Mutuality, Shelley’s narrative on Victor’s thoughts about human development is strengthened. While Victor walks, his surroundings force him to think about how nature can be both beautiful and destructive. In section 3 it says,

The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of snow, down which stones continually roll from above; one of them is particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as speaking in a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw destruction upon the head of the speaker.

Here, the reader is introduced to a natural sight commonly associated with romantic thoughts of beauty. When thinking of ravines of snow, many readers may associate the description to something similar to a Christmas card scene. But as the description progresses, the path is described as treacherous to someone climbing it. The words, “concussion” and “destruction” hold the connotation of a much darker scene.
The following section of Mutability that Mary Shelley utilizes is imperative to the mood of Chapter 10:
We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
We rise; one wand’ring thought pollutes the day.
We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;
It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free.
Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but mutability!

In Mutability, Percy Shelley analyses how natural thought that allows humans to experience beautiful things can also be destructive. The comparison of beauty and joy with destruction and darkness is brought up again. The first two lines show how dreams and thoughts –instruments humans have to experience positive things- can easily be dangerous and bring about negativity. Also, like the natural scene described above, even human thought temporary, always changing. “Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow;” describes this. And as Victor walks, his surroundings are always changing, for every step may never give the same view as his last.
On a deeper level, this scene can be connected to the theme of humanity and creation in Frankenstein. Victor is internally conflicted with his decision to create a monster. When first describing his craft, he used words evoking a connotation of beauty, yet upon viewing his creation in full, he realized how grotesque his monster turned out. Just like the snowy ravine Victor trudges through, and the the dreams that poison Percy Shelley’s sleep, the beauty of creation is also tainted by darker forces in Frankenstein. The narrative of Chapter 10 wouldn’t be the same without including the excerpt from Mutability. The theme of tainted beauty is present throughout the novel, and shows underlying importance by presenting intertextual meaning through Mutability.

Works Cited
Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Ed. Maurice Hindle. London: Penguin Books, 2003.

The (More Than) Horror Novel

This week while finishing Frankenstein, I made an effort to take some notes while reading. I noticed that there is something unique in the way that Shelley presents her narration. While it isn’t completely uncommon to read a novel of this length with multiple narrators, I think the relationship that Shelley presents between the narrators is something a reader doesn’t come by too often. In modern literature, the complexities that guide the story are mostly action-based, but here we see that plot mostly progresses on a character-based level. As Frankensteins monster observes and grows mentally (based on how he sees humans act), the plot turns to the issue of a companion for him. Here, I don’t think Shelley is merely padding her novel with multiple plots. I think her aim is for the reader to see different sides to the situation, based on who is telling the story.

Another complexity of this more-than-horror-novel that I found compelling was the off shoot of the Frankenstein franchise. As you may know, there have been many movies, plays, novels, and even comics made off of the story of Frankensteins monster. One of the earliest examples of this include the sequel to the first Frankenstein movie, The Bride of Frankenstein. In this, the writers took the idea of a female companion to Frankenstein and rewrote the plot so that Victor doesn’t terminate her development.

My question is, how would Mary Shelley feel about this? And to build on that, how would she feel in general about her story going so mainstream? Some may even argue that the original literature that she produced has been exploited by the mass media. Would Shelley be angry that some many outlets of media have altered the story that she originally created? I feel that there should be some sort of boundary, because when does the story become (essentially) not hers? Connecting back to the Harry Potter series, I know that JK Rowling has always played a part in the film adaptation of her novels. She has overseen the screenwriting and the casting, and given her input about what is important to include and what is okay to leave out or alter. After finishing FFrankenstein the novel, I wonder how Shelley let the media get away with skewing her story so much. All the emotion and backstory behind the monster has never been apparent to me as a consumer, and I know I’m not alone in this. Maybe the answer is as simple as the fact that copyright laws weren’t the same then as they are now, but on a deeper level, Shelley must’ve had some sort of connection with her work to not let the complexities fall by the wayside as much as they did.

In any case, her monster’s popularity can only be challenged by Dracula. So I guess she wasn’t completely careless to let the media take hold as fiercely as it did.

It Was Simply Out of His Hands.

I really wish this post to my blog wasn’t so delayed. Living in a time as technologically advanced as this, homework such as this should be a breeze to do, thanks to the connivence of it. Despite this, Frankenstein has taken me a substantial amount of time to get caught up on, and as a result, it is now Tuesday night and I am finally getting my thoughts worked out.

Immediately upon picking up this book, I expected the overdone, single-facetted tale of Frankenstein I’ve been hearing about since my first grade Halloween party. What I found instead was refreshing. The first five chapters or so detail Victor Frankenstein’s upbringing, where there seems to be a significant age difference between his mom and dad, and a weird (possibly incestual) relationship with a girl named Elizabeth that is referred to as his cousin. On the slightly less awkward side, Victor shows interest early on in life in the natural community and the wonders of life and our surroundings. This brings him to study at a university, where he then creates his monster. By this point, his mother has passed (something I think that effected his interest in life and resurrection). Victor then falls ill, and the monster leaves his life for the time being. An unfortunate turn of events leaves Victors younger brother murdered and an old family friend, Justine, accused and hung. All while this is happening, Victor is confused and guilty about the monster he has created. Farther into the novel, we find the Frankenstien family on vacation, where Victor is reunited with his monster. It is then that the reader discovers the monster’s journey to become a functioning being who talks and eats.

This summary is no doubt brief, but the most important thing that I’ve taken away so far is how unexpected the portrayal of the monster was. In every version of Frankenstein, the monster is always mute. And although he may acquire sentiment and awareness of humanity, these feelings always seem very elementary. In this novel, the original, it is as though the monster is less frightening to me, and more pity-able. It is almost as though he is an unfortunate product of his circumstance. I think there was obviously something internally going wrong in Victor’s head for him to get the notion to mess with the cycle of life. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter if it’s for the sake of science, resurrection is still wrong. Maybe it had something to do with his mom dying, but creating a monster is no way to reconcile that. Now it seems as though Frankenstein is just trying to get by the best he can.

In any case, I guess Mary Shelley had to come up with some sort of monster for her ghost story contest, so no matter what, Frankenstein was going to be created. Even if it is morally wrong.

Really quick, the Harry Potter nerd inside of me can’t help but draw a couple connections to Frankenstein. I am currently in the middle of the section where the monster explains his life thus far, and I keep thinking about how in HP 5 (I think it is?) Hagrid goes to see the giants and is explaining his journey to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The first person narrative is very similar, as is the characters of Hagrid and the monster. They are both looked at as outsiders to their community. Also, just the idea of reading a book about monsters reminds me of the ‘Monster Book’ Hagrid assigns his students at Hogwarts. I guess the difference lies in the fact that their monster book functions as an actual monster that can bite you, while ours is just about a monster. Anyway, that was an unnecessary tangent, but I felt that it had to be said.