De Lacey Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

Résumé du document

In a disconcertingly candid manner, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein offers its readers a sensible critique on the callous superficiality of human social interaction. Shelley imaginatively introduces a repugnant, yet kindhearted monster into the world of man, who is only to be received, and understandably so, with violent rejection and absolute contempt. Even the monster himself cannot bear the sight of his own physical appearance and his repulsive exterior accounts entirely for his exclusion from social relations. There is, however, one sole person in the novel whose blind eyes manage to look beyond the hideousness of the monster and treat him as an equal, and that is the old man De Lacey. This maverick character helps to illustrate the judgmental nature of human beings since his actions are not influenced by appearances and by doing so he reinforces the theme of superficiality that Shelley persistently ascribes to the rest of the characters in the book. Every character besides old man De Lacey is not even able to choose to look past the monster's appearance, despite his greatest efforts to make them, and this suggests that being visually judgmental is part of who we are as human beings; we cannot willingly prevent ourselves from being utterly shallow. De Lacey is exceptional as his symbolic blindness allows him to transcend the human superficiality that Shelley presents, while at the same time reinforcing its significant impact on social interaction and acceptance.

Extraits

[...] Despite being the only blind man in the novel, old man De Lacey is a particularly unique character in that he is the only one throughout the story who does not initially treat the monster with contempt. Every other character who crosses paths with the monster does not even risk the time to speak with him, and instead they all immediately become hostile towards the innocent brute before giving him a chance. Even Victor Frankenstein abandons him after first seeing him animated with life, and is poised to murder the creature every other time they happen to meet. [...]

[...] Shelley creates these similarities between De Lacey and the monster to help reinforce just how human the latter of the two really is. If we ignore the monster's exterior, this encounter strongly demonstrates the equality between the old man and the beast, and how they are both just as real and human as each other on the inside. One is inclined to believe after reading this novel that if the monster had had a bit more time to plead his case; he and De Lacey could have made it as lifelong companions. [...]

[...] However, De Lacey proved once more to be the exception to such human brutality as his blind eyes alone were able to see past the harsh features of the monster and see the gentle, well- meaning soul that he possessed within. His hospitable reaction to the monster's entrance into his home is starkly contrasted to that of Felix's, who saw the monster and at once “dashed [him] to the ground, and struck [him] violently with a stick” (91). One might contend that the old man was simply too feeble to attack the monster, or perhaps he was greatly confused because of his blindness and therefore did not attack him, but I find it most likely that Shelley took this opportunity to underpin De Lacey as the one character who is truly peaceful, benevolent, and kind-hearted in the entire story. [...]

[...] At first I started back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification.” (76). in pity made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of your's, more horrid from its very resemblance. Satan had his fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and detested” (88). can I thank you, my best and only benefactor? [...]

[...] “When his children had departed, he took up his guitar, and played several mournful, but sweet airs, more sweet and mournful than I had ever heard him play before” (89). The one who is most benevolent cannot see the world is that what makes him good-natured, or vice versa? Only character in novel that does not initially treat the monster coldly you will unreservedly confide to me the particulars of your tale, I perhaps may be of use in undeceiving them. I am blind, and cannot judge of your countenance, but there is something in your words which persuades me that you are sincere. [...]