Mary Shelley's Frankenstein presents a chilling exploration of survival, not merely as the act of enduring physical hardship, but as a desperate struggle against an overwhelming tide of rejection and violence. The novel's central tension arises from the Creature's initial innocence and his subsequent descent into vengeful acts, a transformation directly precipitated by Victor Frankenstein's abandonment and society's universal condemnation. This essay argues that the Creature's violence is not an inherent trait but a direct consequence of his desperate, failed attempts at survival and connection, thus perpetuating a tragic cycle initiated by Victor's own failures in responsibility and empathy.
From his animated birth, the Creature is thrust into a world that recoils from him. Victor's immediate horror and abandonment, leaving his creation alone and bewildered, is the foundational act of violence. "I had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then, but when I saw it alive, I was filled with horror and disgust," Victor confesses, detailing his instantaneous rejection of the being he brought into existence. This initial betrayal denies the Creature any possibility of learning, guidance, or acceptance. He is left to navigate a world that perceives him solely by his monstrous appearance, a perception that dictates every interaction he experiences. His early attempts at survival are marked by this profound isolation; he scavenges for food, seeks shelter from harsh elements, and observes human society from a distance, yearning for the companionship and understanding denied him. His discovery of a family living in a cottage, whom he watches with growing affection and empathy, represents a crucial moment of potential integration. He learns language, observes acts of kindness, and develops a profound desire for belonging. However, when he finally attempts to reveal himself, hoping for acceptance, he is met with fear and violence, reinforcing the devastating lesson that his existence is incompatible with human society.
The Creature's subsequent acts of violence are directly linked to this persistent denial of his right to exist and find solace. The murder of William Frankenstein, Victor's younger brother, is often cited as proof of the Creature's innate malice. Yet, the narrative suggests a more complex motivation. William's terror upon seeing him, and the Creature's subsequent realization that his appearance incites fear even in an innocent child, solidifies his despair. He experiences a surge of anger and resentment, not necessarily at William himself, but at the world that has made such a reaction inevitable. The framing of Justine Moritz for William's murder, while a terrible act, is framed by the Creature as a punishment for the family that has caused him such suffering and as a desperate attempt to make Victor feel the pain of loss. This act, though heinous, underscores his growing belief that violence is the only language understood by those who have wronged him.
The relationship between Victor and the Creature becomes a mirror reflecting their mutual destruction, a cycle fueled by the Creature's violent retaliations and Victor's subsequent guilt and obsession. The Creature's demand for a companion, a female creature like himself, is his ultimate plea for a chance at a different kind of survival – one of shared existence and potential happiness, free from human judgment. Victor's initial agreement, followed by his agonizing decision to destroy the second creature, is a catastrophic failure of empathy and foresight. He succumbs to his own fear and moral revulsion, thereby sealing the Creature's fate and ensuring continued bloodshed. The Creature's subsequent murders, including Clerval and Elizabeth, are acts of profound vengeance, designed to inflict upon Victor the same absolute desolation he has experienced. "You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow creatures, who will not be more merciful than their master?" the Creature laments, articulating the core of his tragic plight. His violence is the only legacy of his existence, a desperate, destructive echo of Victor's abandonment.
In conclusion, Frankenstein powerfully illustrates how violence is not a spontaneous eruption of evil but a learned and provoked response to extreme suffering and isolation. The Creature's journey from a bewildered, nascent being to a vengeful destroyer is a direct indictment of Victor Frankenstein's moral cowardice and society's superficial judgment. The novel compels readers to confront the origins of violence, suggesting that in denying compassion and a right to exist to even the most 'monstrous' among us, we risk creating the very horrors we fear, perpetuating a cycle of destruction that consumes both perpetrator and victim.