Describe Aurora from "Aurora Leigh"

I think this doll, to the right, is the perfect representation of Aurora - the blowsy hair, the blue eyes, the moody/affected disinterest, and the pose is perfect. Like a Tim Burton, Nightmare Before Christmas-version of the character.

Aurora is smart, idealistic, naive, rebellious, and reflective. She has to be quiet in front of others, like the vicar and her aunt's friends, but she has a very lively mind that finds expression through poetry (her father's, by the way: since the books and poetry belonged to her father, it's another way of identifying herself as his daughter and tying herself closer to him).

She has an active, playful side that clearly makes her aunt very uneasy because, to her, it's an unfeminine, wild quality. Any wildness or expression of liveliness must be tempered to something more acceptable; anything not English must be ironed smooth within Aurora, though the niece makes this kind of work hard for the aunt. Ultimately, it doesn't appear to be very successful work.

Aurora also feels very much like an outsider, even though she never belonged anywhere in the first place. Born to a grieving father who never recovers the shock of losing his wife, she spent most of her childhood in solitude with said sad father, then with her aunt in England as the obedient niece.

And here's a LINK to a great Emma Thompson and Stephen Fry skit (related because it is a skit about the Brownings).

First half of "The Lifted Veil"

After looking at two images of women:

Lady on right: "... and this camera, try to keep shoulders back, lift my chin a little, mouth closed - should have gotten my teeth whitened before this, why didn't that appointment get made, I could have called, why didn't I call? Wish there was a better background behind me, it's kind of blah, make the smile reach to your eyes, hope it's working, shoulders down and back shoulders down and back shoulders down and back, I wonder if I'll look washed out, when can I move on, what's going on up ahead?"

- Mandell: "So, I'm channeling AIRHEADS!"

- "When you look at someone, you can (or can you?) imagine what you're thinking through all kinds of clues - it's a way of understanding the person in front of you."

- Does Latimer really have the supernatural powers he thinks he does? (Group work - get specific pages if possible):

We didn't question it at first - considered the possibility of Latimer's being very, very good at reading nonverbal cues, and he has a very good imagination - Romeo complex - he never sees anyone outside of a handful of people, and later in life he sees even fewer people, so the possibility of testing this possible power diminishes, and it gets harder to judge whether it's real or not - in fact, this discounts the alleged truth of it. His visions are bizarre, though.

- Why can't he read Bertha's mind? He's projecting what he wants of her onto her.

- What makes her such a great screen to project on?

- Goes to Geneva (Frankenstein's home), and imitates Rousseau by lying around in a boat.

- To the Right: How I imagine Bertha and Latimer look.

Class Notes, the last on "Frankenstein"

- About the ending - was this to be expected? Was it boring? It was a little expected, if not boring. I didn't expect Walton would talk to the monster - clearly, the monster didn't think so, either. Since this is a dramatic novel, what could be more dramatic than Victor dying, and the monster exiling himself to the far North where he might die? This is what I imagine would have happened if this story were more realistic: Walton's ship gets thoroughly stuck, and Victor dies because of the cold. Rumors of cannibalism drift through the crew as its members weaken. The story never leaves the area, and the ship rots in the ice. The end.

- Does Victor contradict himself when, after refusing to tell Walton how to create a monster like he did, he instructs the crew to persevere in the expedition? Victor believes in ACCOMPLISHMENT and HUMAN WILL; this is not in opposition to not telling Walton the recipe for "Frankenstein Monsters a la mode." Victor does not want his mistake repeated by someone else making a monster, but he does want civilization and human ability to reach its limits and beyond.

- Tomorrow: "The Lifted Veil" - an attack on the Romantic hero.


- On the 'hero' I created on HeroMachine:

I created a version of Elizabeth. She was all that was still good and decent about Victor: she was the focus and the source of unconditional love and companionship, towards Victor and his family; she was a protective, guarding presence in his life, to whom he intended to trust the horrible secret of the monster after they were married, and who, I think, has a hidden reservoir of heroism and determination. The lantern in her left hand represents that kind of light, a power of insight and goodness. The shield in her right hand indicates her protectiveness. The lynx I think might be the secret daring and aggression she has within, but who, as a genteel woman, she has to hide.

Does Latimer resemble Victor?

Frankenstein v. The Lifted Veil

Latimer and Victor are not too similar. They are both self-centered and trapped within their own heads. The former is passive and weak in character, a very self-pitying excuse for an adult; Victor, at least, owns up to his mistakes, even though he shifts the blame more towards Fate than himself. Victor is far more active and assertive. He is less insipid, though this might be because Latimer's education was such a bad fit, and Victor was spoiled with a very expensive, suitable education. Latimer's mind, for want of the kind of structure and application it needs, deteriorates a little in adulthood - he is fanciful, and his family does not take him too seriously in the beginning. Victor is always seen as his father's immediate successor, and he certainly never questions it. He knows it is his legal right to take his place as head of the household on his father's death. I think Latimer would waffle on the subject, if presented with it.

Does Victor's advice to Walton change by the end of the novel?

Well, let's see:

The story begins when Walton rescues Victor, tells him about the purpose of the expedition, and Victor tells Walton about manufacturing a monster in order to curb Walton's grandiose ideals.

The story ends with Victor berating Walton's crew for quitting the expedition out of fear for their lives.

Yes, the advice seems to have changed. In the telling, perhaps Victor became enamored with himself all over again through Walton's adoration. Maybe, despite his own failure, the warning he gave Walton did not read as, "Don't go through with this harebrained expedition to the North Pole, my friend," but as, "Do not do this looking greatness, but seek truth and honor for yourself." Victor's purpose in life was such a selfish one that, rather than curbing Walton's plans completely, maybe he just wanted to impose a bit of realism and self-awareness on them. They are big plans that have the potential to change the world and contribute to human knowledge - that is a worthy undertaking. To do it simply because a person wants to be well-known, never forgotten, makes the effort petty and silly. This way, the apparent change in Victor's message to Walton would make more sense.

How does the Monster's tale make you feel about him?

The monster's version of the story makes me think two things:

1) He has a point. Cruelty and the strictest isolation have led to his being monstrous.
2) He is very persuasive - more persuasive than I'm comfortable with. It makes me distrust him.

The monster is very pitiable. He is made of human parts, so it stands to reason that he would have human needs and wants. Even the loneliest person finds some kind of consolation or company; the kind of isolation the monster is subjected to, though, is complete. Worse, he has these needs and wants that are part of his nature, and he is never taught what to do with them - he is just left to figure it out on his own. For all his threats to be a scourge on humanity, out of hate and loneliness and pain, I don't think he would ever have gone through with it - he just wanted Victor Frankenstein's attention. When he extracts his revenge on Victor, and when Victor dies, the monster does not continue torturing innocents - he walks willingly towards his own death.

At the same time, he is incredibly good at rhetoric. There is a "Woe is me"-tone to his argument that reminds me a great deal of Victor. The monster sees his worst qualities as indicating that Fate wants him to be a monster, not just look like one. Especially when he talks about how his hate built up, slowly choking out his better feelings, he does it in a way that excuses himself. He is a monster, and his 'parent' neglected him in the most awful way, but he had opportunities to do something. He had a tendency to rush things and ruin them, though. He rushed Victor's decline in health by killing the people he loved, initially out of impulse, and later he sprung on old Delacey when he should have left a written note for the entire family as a way of slowly introducing himself into their circle.

I do feel sorry for the monster, and I think he was treated very harshly. At the same time, it takes a great deal of will power and energy to invest in the kind of long-term grudge the monster built up - it's an active, conscious, slow-burning fire that needs to be fed constantly. Instead of doing what he could for his own character and life, he lashed out. Maybe this was due to immaturity or a lack of experience - he had only been alive a few years by the end of the novel, and the maturity rate for a lab-originated monster is unknown. By the end of the novel, though, I trusted him as much as I trusted Victor - not a lot.

Is Walton like or unlike Victor? How?

YES. Yes, and yes again.

Victor is (as we have hashed over in class on multiple occasions) a self-involved, self-serving egotist intent on realizing his genius in a Great way - as in, he wants to be thought of as Great, on a level with Shakespeare and Julius Caesar. To do so, he is willing to put everything at risk - even the things and people he loves. He justifies this with monologues on Fate, Destiny, and a Tragic Flaw - the similarities between Prince Hamlet and himself are remarkable. While he does express enormous guilt and responsibility for the consequences of his reckless experiment, he terms that guilt and responsibility as things that were predestined for him. He was meant to suffer (like Jesus Christ). His enormous genius could only bring either greatness or destruction on him. To listen to him speak is to ignore all the times he had to pause and reflect on whether or not what he was doing was in his best interest. There were plenty of red flags, and even more opportunities to stop and consider what he was doing, but he ignored them. Even at the end of the novel he conducts himself, not like a man who failed because of plain human stupidity, but like a disgraced emperor.

Which brings me to the main point - not only does Victor behave like dethroned royalty, but Walton encourages and engages in supporting this fallacy. He, also, wants to be Great, an equal to Shakespeare, etc. He respects grand feats of intelligence and ability, and despite the horror of the experiment Victor's monster is a feat Walton respects. He is currently pursuing a hopeless, dangerous career of his own purely because he burns to do something big, something no one's attempted and succeeded at - he wants to clear the path first. And all during the telling of the story, Walton appears to worship Victor, as a close friend and like mind. Walton submits to a kind of hero worship. The two are like the much-repeated "two peas in a pod".