What was frankenstein purpose in pursuing science

In a distressed mental state, Victor falls into bed, hoping to forget his creation. He dreams of wandering the streets of Ingolstadt and seeing Elizabeth through the haze of the night. Unable to endure the sight of what he brought to life, Victor tells Walton that he fled the room: Oh!

A mummy again endued with animation could not be so hideous as that wretch. How did Victor spend the night after bringing the creature to life? He runs to the woods, spends a week in bed, now repulsed by his work. He leaves the creature alone. Begin typing your search term above and press enter to search. Press ESC to cancel. Ben Davis March 16, Which statement shows that he views the creature as part of himself?

He gets physically affected on p. Plays the victim and uses it as an excuse to stay out all night. He says on p. At their meeting, how does the creature explain his evil behavior? Why does the creature compare himself to the biblical character Adam? He says he was like Adam because he was the first of his kind. He should be the beloved son of his creator, but instead he is shunned.

Better compared to Satan since he was cast away from his creator and he has committed sins. In your opinion, is he an appealing person? He seems to like science more than people. He lives in isolation all the time and is obsessed with it. Do you think that Frankenstein went too far in his quest for knowledge? Imagine the story of Victor struggling to have the creature accepted by a society that shunned it as vile and unnatural.

We would then be reading a book about social prejudice and our preconceptions of nature—indeed, about the kind of prospect one can easily imagine for a human born by cloning today if such as thing were scientifically possible and ethically permissible. The moral and philosophical landscape it might have explored would be no less rich. That Victor did not do this—that he spurned his creation the moment he had made it, merely because he judged it ugly—means that, to my mind, the conclusion we should reach is the one that the speculative-fiction author Elizabeth Bear articulates in the new volume.

Mary Shelley, however, gives her readers mixed messages. What she shows us is a man behaving badly, but what she seems to tell us is that he is tragic and sympathetic.

This could be seen as a rather exquisite piece of authorial artifice, an early example of the unreliable narrator. Certainly it bears out the complaint of the British biologist J. Haldane in There is no great invention, from fire to flying, which has not been hailed as an insult to some god. But if every physical and chemical invention is a blasphemy, every biological invention is a perversion. Might that be so with IVF, as its early detractors insisted?