Project 2: follow up

Once again, here are some examples (from previous writers in the class) of elements that we focused on in developing the second writing project, particularly in focusing on the forwarding of a literary text and the close reading its implications/complications as a way to support and extend your argument.

Remember my thesis about how best to learn and develop as writers: by giving more time to reflect on our writing, especially after we have finished a project. Take time now, before we get into the third project, to explore some of these samples. I also recommend taking your final version of the project into the Writing Center and getting some additional feedback on elements on your to-do list.

  • Development/Close Reading
    • Allison’s essay, particularly this body paragraph; notice how she invites the reader (using metacommentary: it is fitting to pause) to slow down to do some close reading. She focuses on the poem “Mutability”:
      • Although it is easy to see how the stanzas included in the novel relate to what is going on, there are subtler references to a “bigger picture” present in the novel, parallels to which can be found in the poetic stanzas that Shelley chose not to include. While the second half of the poem gives insight into the large impact that one thought can have on the entire scope of a lifetime, the first half puts humans on a much smaller scale, comparing them to “clouds that veil the midnight moon” that float through the sky and soon “are lost forever.” Percy Shelley compares humans to a musical instrument “whose fragile frame no second motion brings one mood or modulation like the last.” What Mary Shelley is communicating – through her husband’s words, no less – is that human life is a volatile and fleeting thing. Here it is fitting to pause and analyze the context of this poem’s placement within the events of the novel. Victor Frankenstein has just scaled a massive, desolate mountain and is contemplating man’s susceptibility to impulses and flighty desires. He essentially concludes that with the higher intelligence of mankind there is a great danger, and this danger stems from our uniquely human ability to “feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep; embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away.” Both Victor’s conclusion and the poem are a meditation on the flightiness and triviality of human lives and, by contrast, the extent to which these lives can be impacted through seemingly harmless decisions. The two halves of this poem are two conflicting views on a topic of immense depth, which is quite fitting for a poem entitled “Mutability.” While most readers will only experience the part of the poem found in the novel, it is important that one understands the significance that can be found by reading the entire text.
    • Allyson shows (in the first two body paragraphs) the effective use of keywords from the quotation as a basis for the interpretation or extension. Her argument is extended from the language she quotes.
  • Arrangement and Coherence
    • One of the ways we grasped this in the revision workshop: the importance of using keywords of our argument and signposts for where the argument is, where it is going, especially in places such as topic sentences. David presents a good example (third body paragraph) of how as simple a word such as “this” can do this.
    • Rachel’s project provides a strong example of how the keywords of the argument move the reader through the body paragraphs, extending from topic sentences into the close reading of the passages she forwards.
  • Argument set-up [reviewing Clarity and Complexity]
    • Sara sets up her problem with her thesis as response, effectively signaled with transition words:
      • In the novel Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, the author uses different texts to illustrate her main points, as many authors sometimes do. Unlike the novel’s intricate uses of eloquent language and the intertextual weaving being used, many people tend to think of Frankenstein as a simple horror story—a mad scientist creates a monster that is portrayed as a mindless killing machine, which escapes and terrorizes everything in its path. However, there is a more complex story suggested by the intertext Genesis—a complexity that I read as important to illustrate my belief that the creature Frankenstein created was not a monster at all. Mary Shelley uses Genesis to show the pain and suffering and loneliness the creature went through that ultimately spurns his actions, some being violent and hateful. Nevertheless, this is human nature, and based on how the creature is treated, he has the capacity for both good and evil.
    • Good example from Robbie of setting up the given/conventional view–starting generally, then moving in toward the more specific reading/argument that the thesis signals.
  • Conclusion
    • Jacob: A good example of raising implications at the end that both reiterate the complications of the argument, but reach out beyond the essay, to new ways of thinking with this information–thus answering the all-important So What?
    • Xavier’s project offers a good example of concluding the argument, then moving out toward some larger implications for the reader to consider.
      • Hollywood would have one believe that Frankenstein is just another simple monster horror story. But, upon further analysis, it is noticeable that Mary Shelley had a deeper meaning for her story. The story, using comparisons from John Milton’s Paradise Lost as well as other inter texts, develops a complicated picture of humans and our struggle with God from the beginning of time. Putting a monstrous, yet humanistic creature was an interesting choice. The monster in Frankenstein shows the best and worst of mankind. In this aspect, it represents all that humans are. And I think that Shelley wants us to realize that God wants the best for us; for us to strive for perfection, even though He knows we will never fully attain it. Though Victor dies before he gets his revenge, the monster comes to realize the error of his ways. This novel shows us that we are more than our mistakes and that we can overcome them. We all make mistakes; it is how we overcome them that defines who we are.
  • Citation format: for a reminder of MLA citation format (including the listing of works cited needed at the end of your essay), consult the Purdue OWL here.

Frankenstein: Intertextuality

A working definition of the literary concept of intertextuality, forwarded from the Bedford edition of Frankenstein (ed. Johanna M. Smith, 2000):

The condition of interconnectedness among texts, or the concept that any text is an amalgam of others, either because it exhibits signs of influence or because its language inevitably contains common points of reference with other texts through such things as allusion, quotation, genre, stylistic features, and even revisions (455).

We have seen that the complications–the layerings, or amalgamations–of meaning in Frankenstein begin even before you finish the title: the subtitle “The Modern Prometheus.” This is where the intertextuality of the novel begins. (And it continues, as you know, with the epigraph taken from Milton’s Paradise Lost.  Intertextuality can be defined as the presence in a literary text (in our case, the novel Frankenstein) of elements from other texts. That presence can be a direct or indirect quotation, an allusion, an implication, an echo–in some way, a previous text or story is forwarded into the text you are reading. In contemporary music terms, intertextuality is sampling. In  digital parlance, it might be viewed as the mashup.

For further reading on Prometheus:

“Hesiod and Plato on Prometheus.” An overview of the myth of Prometheus as evident in the classical sources of Hesiod and Plato, by the writer/blogger Neal Burton. Note that this extends the myth of Prometheus to the invention of the arts, most particularly the arts of discourse and reason, in Greek known by the word “logos.”

Plato’s Prometheus. Summary of Promethus myth, with links to Plato’s use of the myth in dialogues, including Plato’s “Protagoras.”

Another intertextual complication in the novel:

Wordsworth, “Tintern Abbey”

Other possible places to go with the idea of intertextuality (that is, dealing with the amalgam-like quality of the novel, the recognition that there are multiple layers in the novel): Dante, the author’s introduction, Paradise Lost, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” medieval science. Lots of places.

In the second project, you are pursuing a close (slow) reading of key parts of the novel; but you will still be making an argument–there is a problem of some sort that you are exploring and (in your thesis) attempt to respond to and resolve. You can think of the problem/response in this way:

Many people tend to think of Frankenstein in simple terms, as a story about ______; however, there is a more complex story suggested by the intertext–a complexity that I read as important in the larger significance of Frankenstein as a novel about _______.

A link to the full poem of “Mutability.” And another, different poem also titled “Mutability” by the same poet.

Some ‘machines’ you might find useful in your intertextual reading of Frankenstein:

Electronic Paradise Lost (Milton, 1667).

Electronic Bible (from UVA’s Electronic Text Center)

Electronic Frankenstein.

And a final reminder, a resource useful for close reading, and for thinking more critically about keywords and terms in the reading–as well as in our writing–is the OED. It focuses on the inherent intertextuality in our language by highlighting the etymology and evolution of our words.

Frankenstein: It’s Complicated

Steel engraving (993 x 71mm) for frontispiece ...

Steel engraving (993 x 71mm) for frontispiece to the revised edition of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, published by Colburn and Bentley, London 1831. The novel was first published in 1818. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Even if you have never read Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein, you know the name. The image of the monster (perhaps of the scene when it comes to life, lightning crashing, the mad scientist screaming, “It’s alive!”). Those of you who have read the novel know–and for first time readers, it won’t take long to see–that such images from film don’t match up with the original novel.  [more on the history of Frankenstein in film]

We don’t get to the famous creation scene until 5 or 6 chapters in. And, of course, by then we know that Frankenstein is not the monster; it is, rather, the name of its creator–though could also be the monster, since it is unnamed, and technically the son. And a bit later in the reading, we wonder how the monster ever became the green hulking, inarticulate thing from the movies. Hint: the monster reads Paradise Lost.

A keyword I will be using as we discuss the novel and explore it with our second writing project in mind (we focus on intertextuality and close reading of text): complication. We will work on complicating our reading of this novel. That doesn’t mean we will make it difficult or harder than it needs to be. It means recognizing that the novel, as a text, is already a layer of complications–stories and images and other texts woven and folded in to its narrative. As we will see in reading Mary Shelley’s original draft of the novel, the layers of complication include the fact that she is not the only one reading and writing, since her husband Percy Shelley edits the manuscript that would be published in 1818 (the second edition is published in 1831 by Mary alone).

A literary term for this condition of the layering of writing is “intertextuality”; for more on that, consult this reference from the University of Wisconsin. As we think more critically about the literary significance of intertextuality in Frankenstein–a focus for our next writing project–we will do so in order to think further about the rhetorical effect of intertextuality in our writing: the fact that in the texts of our essays and projects we use and transform the texts of others. Joseph Harris refers to this as “forwarding,” our critical focal point for the project. So, we will be reading Frankenstein as critical readers, but also as student writers, seeing what we can learn from Shelley.

There are two marks of those complications (of text as woven materials) even before we begin the story. The first comes in the author’s introduction–where we learn of the complex origins of the story. And more to the point, it seems to me, we learn of the complication that our author, Mary Shelley, views her creation of the novel in very similar terms as those used by Frankenstein concerning his. She concludes the introduction bidding her “hideous progeny go forth and prosper.” The novel, apparently, is also a monster.

A second location of complication: the title page. Look at the intertextuality–the presence of one or more other texts within a text–we are confronted with before we even get past the title. As we will see, this is only the beginnings of a text that is woven by numerous connections, links, echoes, allusions to other texts.

The point I will be making in the face of this complication–of this multiplicity of texts and voices and narrators and stories–is that we need to do close reading not to find some sort of hidden meaning. I know that is what it often felt like in high school English. The problem of this novel–the problem that makes it compelling and engaging, it seems to me–is that there is too much meaning. It is hard to know what to do with it all.

By the way, speaking of this multiplicity, I wonder what you think of the Electronic Frankenstein site. It strikes me that it could help with the of kind layering of text that we start to get as early as the title page. One way to think of things–perhaps Shelley’s novel is a hypertext of sorts. Is it better to read the novel in digital form? At the same time, we can think about various “remediations” (remakes in other media, other versions) of the novel that are basic to this story–well before we get to the digital age. In particular, there is the incredibly rich film history (and before that even, theater history) in which Shelley’s story is, in a word, mashed up and retold. The first film is 1931, directed by James Whale, starring Boris Karloff as the ‘monster’. In addition to film, there are also variations on the story in print, such as The Memoirs of Elizabeth Frankenstein and The Case Book of Victor Frankenstein.  Another retelling and reimagining of the novel, from other perspectives, is the well-known hypertext novel (more on this later in the term) called Patchwork Girl.

Here is a recent article that notes some of these intertextual implications (the novel as creation myth), locating  the complications as early as the author’s introduction and in her biography: “Was ‘Frankenstein’ Really About Childbirth?” And finally, an article about “frankenwords,” our tendency to create words out of hyrbrids, including words with “franken” as a prefix, such as reference to a “frankenstorm.”

All of these retellings and remediations, from print to film to digital, I would argue, in fact build upon, and are inspired by, an original story that is already, and at heart, about the idea of remediation and the power and influence of telling (which is to say, retelling) a story. Like I say, it’s complicated. And that’s a good thing.

Three-Act Thesis

An analogy from film for writing an argument and developing a stronger thesis…

As a way to rethink the definition of a strong thesis in academic writing, I propose we consider the structure of another genre of writing, another writing machine: film writing. In film or screenwriting, the “thesis” is known as the turning point or premise or conflict or (sometimes) the hook of the film; it is the central problem or conflict that sets the action in motion and needs to be resolved by the end, also known as the climax of the film.

Link here for more on the basics of three-act film structure.

Wizard of OZ movie poster

Wizard of OZ movie poster (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The basic three-act structure of most films looks something like this [with The Wizard of Oz as a guide]:

  • Act 1: The Set Up
    • Normality (the given, normal, conventional life of the protagonist)
      • Dorothy’s bleak life in Kansas, desire to run away
    • Disturbance/Problem: something that disrupts the given/normal.
    • The tornado; knocked out; not in Kansas anymore
    • Turning point/hook (central problem plus surprise; a real but unusual conflict or problem that follows from the initial disturbance and needs to be solved or answered by the end of the film)
    • Welcome to Oz—must find the Wizard for help to get home.
    • (The resolution of this problem will be the climax of the movie)
  • Act 2: Complications
    • Further complications/problems/obstacles the protagonist faces in trying to resolve the central problem
      • All the trials along the way getting to see Wizard; getting broomstick.
    • Second Act turning point: a further or final problem that leads in to the climax
    • Wizard refuses help.
  • Act 3:   Climax and Resolution
    • Climax: the solving or answering of the central problem
      • Wizard revealed and agrees to take Dorothy in balloon; Good Witch helps her get home (no place like home.
    • Resolution: the ending of the film; the new reality/normality we are left with
    • Dorothy wakes up; implication: never left home? Will never want to leave home again.

My proposal is that a similar three-act structure can be an effective way to think about developing the narrative as well as the logic of an academic thesis. Why? Because the basis of a thesis is: the setting up of a problem (introduction); offering a surprising or unusual or unconventional way to think about that problem (thesis statement); considering complications along the way to solving the problem (supporting examples; counter-argument); the solving of the problem (conclusion as climax); larger implications—where this new way of viewing things leaves us (conclusion as resolution). I suggest that the following structure (or in rhetorical terms, heuristic) could be helpful both at the composting stage, when you are trying to develop ideas for the argument, working toward a thesis, as well as at the revision stage, after an initial draft, when you are working on refining your thesis.

One of the key lessons from film writing I want to borrow can help us with organization: everything in the film must relate to the turning point—the second act complications as well as the climax. At each stage of developing the script, the writer should be able to answer how a particular scene relates back to the turning point. It also emphasizes that strong writing not only relates to a central idea, but moves an audience through the argument, is dynamic (hence: three acts, action). Academic narratives deal with ideas, but still need action and movement to make the ideas/argument work; like a film, critical narratives need an audience engaged.

Another lesson can help us rethink the way a thesis needs to be imaginative, but not necessarily “original”—if by original we take that to mean an idea that no one else has thought or said before. In fact, a good premise or turning point in a film is not entirely new: it takes the old, the familiar, and provides a surprise, an unusual way of thinking about the old. The effect of the turning point in The Wizard of Oz is not Oz by itself, but Oz in relation to Kansas, the technicolor imagination of Oz rethinking the grey familiarity of home. This is also what we do with academic arguments: rethink conventional ways of thinking about various ideas, arguments, texts, problems.

  • Act 1: Introduction/set up
    • Given: normal or conventional view; the context of your focus; where things stand right now with the issue you are taking up
      • Frankenstein, both novel and film, has long been viewed by many in terms of the horror genre. Critics…
    • Problem: a disturbance to the conventional; some initial problems with things that perhaps have emerged more recently (other critics starting to take up); or contradiction/flaw in the conventional view that have been forgotten, neglected
    • However, as suggested by more recent films (or more recent criticism), Frankenstein for some is more in the science fiction genre and not about horror…
    • Thesis: your premise or turning point, a real but unusual or surprising way of thinking about the problem and setting out to solve it.
    • What if Frankenstein were to be viewed not in terms or horror or science but in terms of romance, something few would associate with the title? While I would agree there are important elements of both horror and science in the novel and its film adaptations, I would argue, instead, that the story is at heart a love story. Shelley’s real concern, it seems to me, is with the monstrosity of the human heart, the dangers not of science but of falling in love. In particular…
  • Act 2: Complications
    • First main example or complication directly relating to (and elaborating) the thesis/turning point
      • The danger of falling in love is perhaps first evident when…
    • Second example
    • This particular danger of love [discussed in last paragraph] becomes even more problematic when we see…
    • Second Act turning point: a further complication or even challenge for your thesis; counter-argument
    • However, there are good reasons to think of this work not as a love story; clearly there are key elements critics have rightly discussed in terms of horror and science. For example…While I don’t disagree with the sentiment (or critical point), it also seems to me that the very example she/he addresses has more to do with love than horror…
  • Act 3: Conclusion
    • Climax: how the problem of your thesis is finally solved/answered
      • The horror of science in this story is in fact made horrific by love, not the reverse. It is love that gets in the way of science and love that leads to the tragedy…
    • Resolution: where this leaves us—a reminder that a conclusion should not merely re-state what was given in the introduction; it should provide a more conclusive answer to the various complications (second act) as well as point the reader out to thinking about implications for other or related text. Thinking: what’s next?
    • Speculation on how this rethinking of Frankenstein as love story might be taken up in future film versions; or why the novel has not been traditionally viewed this way—why love has been neglected—and how it might lead to larger implications for rethinking the gothic/horror genre…


You can use this to compost ideas for a draft; might also use this as a revision strategy, to re-outline your argument–test for the thesis thread–after you have a draft.

Act 1: Introduction/Set UP



Thesis/Turning Point:

Act 2: Complications

Complication #1:

Complication #2, #3, etc.

Second Act Turning Point: [further complication; counter-argument]

Act 3: Conclusion

Climax: answer to question/solving of problem

Resolution: new normal—where this leaves us; larger implications

Coda and Collective: a critical application

Sven Birkerts concludes The Gutenberg Elegies by focusing on an opposition between “the solitary self” and “the collective.” For Birkerts, a true self is solitary and a true sense of self exists only in solitude; this condition of selfhood is cultivated best through the pages and linear lines of books. Birkerts sets against this condition of solitary selfhood the “condition of connectedness” that he associates with what he terms “the ever-expanding electronic web.” “They are not only extensions of the senses,” he argues about the technological improvements of the electronic age in his “Coda,” “they are extensions of the senses that put us in touch with the extended senses of others.”  In other words, the problem is not so much that we are, in the age of overwhelming information, overloading our senses by extending their range and reach; more troubling for Birkerts, we are extending ourselves and our senses into and among the extended senses of others. “Others” is the real pejorative term here (224). Birkerts fears contamination through connection.

This is where I disagree most strongly with Birkerts’ understanding of the “amniotic environment of impulses,” to use his telling metaphor of the web. I think Birkerts aptly characterizes the effect of this environment of impulses. He gets the technology right; the uncited echo of Marshall McLuhan’s defintion of technology as the “extensions of man” brings that home. We have, as McLuhan shows, always used technology to extend our senses–long before the age of electronic communication. Birkerts could be more precise in recognizing that such “extensions” would include the technologies of writing and print and bookmaking that informs the books that thus inform the selfhood he fears we are loosing. Books are part of an earlier hive of information and communication network. But no matter; he elsewhere in this book admits that his beloved book is, of course, a form of technology–even if that view is kept to a minimum. Birkerts gets not the technology wrong nor its implications (the extension of senses); he misses the point in fearing the connection to others. That is to say, I am troubled most by the “condition of connectedness” that Birkerts, it seems, forbids the act of reading. Why is connectedness the problem and solitariness the goal of our selfhood or of the creativity of reading and writing that informs it? Why must we think of creation in solitude?

Shelley Jackson’s Patchwork Girl, like Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein before it, suggests that Birkerts’ problem is to see connection as the problem…

This is not to say that there aren’t problems lurking in connectivitiy. I would agree with Birkerts to the extent that he worries about…. However, I think he goes too far in arguing that….In my view, creativity can only come through connection.

My example of a critical application of Birkerts, stitching in, through paraphrase and direct quotation, a key idea from his conclusion to then set up the focus I will use to read Patchwork Girl: in effect, using Birkerts’ own terms and language (connectedness vs. solitariness) for my own thesis, though reversing his view, drawing distinctions. Also, entertaining counter-argument from Birkerts.

It is worth noting that I have only recently discovered a thriving community of blogs out there that focus on books–passionate readers of books who blog about the books they are reading, want to read. A community of readers using the “condition of connectedness” of the web and blogging technology to extend their interest in book reading. What would Birkerts think? Here is a link to one such blog, So Many Books, which offers in its blogroll quite a list of book blogs. I look at this blog with interest in the social connections it makes between readers and books, through its “amniotic environment.” I am overwhelmed not by the electronic impulses, but by the reminder of the sheer number of books out there that we can, it seems, never catch up with and fully read.

On the Virtues of Preexisting Material, by Rick Prelinger: A recent article that takes up the problem of originality in the digital age, and proposes that we think instead of collage and patchwork. He speaks of orphaned works of creation and quilts: the echoes of Frankenstein and Patchwork Girl are noticeable–as are the concerns of Plato.

Medium-Specific Messages

Our third focal point in the course considers something called ‘media specific analysis.’ The phrase comes from Katherine Hayles–a point she emphasizes and embodies in her book Writing Machines. We will be exploring this in terms of the way films remediate the novel Frankenstein.

This critical focus on thinking critically about a medium–be it writing, film, computer, etc–owes something to a well-known media theorist from the 1960s, Marshall McLuhan. For some useful background on McLuhan and one of his signature concepts, “the medium is the message,” browse this wikipedia entry. [by the way, as you may or may not realize, Wikipedia is a digital remediation of the print encylopedia].

As an example of McLuhan’s assertion that the content of every medium is the medium itself–ie, the real message lies in how any message is conveyed (its mediation) not what the content or message is–we could take this Wikipedia entry. MM would argue that the real effect on those who read this entry comes through the way the ideas (in this case, some background, initial description of ideas, further links and resources) are conveyed and not the ideas by themselves. There is no idea apart from its medium for MM. And so the nature of a wiki–its ways of conveying content, of linking, of the kinds of writing and reading experiences it emphasizes and enforces, is the message.

He also distinguishes two types of experiences we can have with a communication medium: hot (or high definition) such as film–where our attention needs to be focused, absorbed; and cool (or low definition) where the active participation of the viewer/participant is more crucial to the experience, such as with a book (turning the page, re-reading, etc).

It is with this understanding of media that I will emphasize that books are a medium–and that the notion of books vs new media is inaccurate since books are another kind of media. I will also emphasize, borrowing the term from Katherine Hayles (the author of Writing Machines) that as critical readers, we need to practice ‘media specific analysis’ whenever dealing with a medium–which is always.

When would we not be dealing with a medium, with ideas (whatever form or shape) that reach us through some form of mediation?

The phrase ‘remediation’ comes from the authors Jay Bolter and Richard Grusin who build upon McLuhan to argue, further, that every new medium builds upon, repurposes and remediates an earlier and existing medium. Thus the medium is the message also implies that there is no new media apart from ‘old’ media. Bolter and Grusin take this even further (which is to say, take our new media all the way back to MM’s older view) in suggesting that the content of every new medium is the act of remediation itself: how the new medium relates to and reuses the old.

Frankenstein and film

In our next project, we stay with Frankenstein but read it from another angle of vision. We will be thinking about the ways that Shelley’s “hideous progeny” has gone forth and prospered in film. In doing so, our writing and critical reading focal point will be something Katherine Hayles calls “media specific analysis.” This means that we will be thinking more specifically about film (and about writing) as a medium–thinking about characteristics specific to the medium and to ways that a story told in film is different than the same story told in a print novel. A related term I will use to explore this with you: remediation–the way a newer medium extends and relates back to an older medium, even as it would seem to replace it (for example: film and writing).

Frankenstein shows up in lots of film–and not just in films named Frankenstein. This has been one significant feature of the novel’s afterlife. Why it has lived on surely has something to do with the power of the story–its ability to be adapated and to evolve in different cultures and climates. (Sounds something like the creation, doesn’t it). I would hypothesize, more specifically, that one of the ways and reasons the novel prospers in film has something to do with the ways the story can be made relevant to the medium of film.

Some links to consider:

1910 Edison film (the earliest film version of Frankenstein)

Discussion of Frankenstein in film (Electronic Frankenstein).

Creation scene (It’s Alive!) from the 1931 film.

example of a film close reading (integrated into blog)