Project 2: review

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.
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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’. This film includes the famous line (not from the novel): “It’s Alive!” 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.


Frankenstein: A More Complicated Monster

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. 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.

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 I have linked here. 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?


Postmodern Prometheus

The New York Times has a review of The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein, by Peter Ackroyd. It is a new novel that re-imagines and retells Victor’s story in a more authentic context: that is, the one in which the author creates it. So, Percy Shelley shows up in the novel, for example. This sort of ‘postmodern’ version of Frankenstein, stripping away the stereotypes from the film history, is another version of what Shelley Jackson pursues in Patchwork Girl. In both cases, the stories seem to take off from Mary Shelley’s introduction, where she puts her own authorship up front, weaves it into the story: her hideous progeny is the writing, the creation of her novel. As you will see, Shelley Jackson runs with that strand. But she also remediates the novel with digital technology: in the way that all the various strands of story and history that inform or influence her vision of the novel are brought into her version, rather than edited or hidden.

Perhaps it is something like an essay that has been revised many times, but in which the final version contains all the versions in one. Why do this, you might ask?

But it is also worth asking you: have you also, before Patchwork Girl (and even if you have never before read such a text in digital form), read or viewed or played a text that was non-linear, that offered lots of material and options for reading, that had more than one place to go? That, at some level, in some form, invited the reader to become a writer? If so, then you have experienced what can be called “hypertext.”

For more on Shelley Jackson, you can go to her web site, Ineradicable Stain.


Intertextuality: Mutability

Percy Shelley’s poem from 1816, “Mutability,” which shows up in Victor’s narrative.

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! -yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost for ever:

Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.

We rest.—A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise.—One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:

It is the same!—For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutablilty.

 

Intertextuality can be defined as the connection or implication of one (or more than one) text within a text. One version of this: an allusion. In the case of Shelley’s poem, the reference is a direct quotation (though the author is not named). Where it gets interesting, of course, is recognizing that the author of the poem is the novelist’s husband. Perhaps the best way to think about intertextuality and the stunning range of implications (texts referring to texts) is to consider almost any bumber sticker you might have seen. Usually, amazingly, some reference is made or assumed to another text, often another bumber sticker. So intertextuality demands or commands interpretation; it also reminds us that we read and interpret much of what we see in our world. A lesson we will consider as we explore the rich intertextuality in Shelley’s novel, and of her novel, is that we need to slow down and read the texts, illuminate and follow up on the implications of texts, in order to make sense of what we have in front of us. That doesn’t necessarily mean get the ‘right’ answer to the text; more that we need to be willing and able to follow the implications, trace the threads of the text (text originally means “woven thing”) in our creative effort to make something of what we are reading.

Consider: there isn’t only one way to read a bumber sticker–good ones, indeed, will open up to several possible readings. But it is possible to misread one.

Another type of intertextuality around the same scene in chapter X: reference to the imagery of sublime landscape. A Romantic painter from the same period in which Shelley is writing is Caspar David Freidrich. Think of this as a visual intertext that Shelley seems to be using in her writing–both as a matter of relevant philosophy (the sublime is a prominent idea in Romanticism) and perhaps as a method of style.

You are welcome to explore and furhter illuminate these intertexts, or any other you come upon in the novel, for your second writing project.

One final thought, for now. Can even think of intertextuality as inherent in our language–implications in any of the words that Shelley uses–given the history embedded in any word. Certainly a word unfamiliar to you such as “sublime”; but also familiar ones, such as “author” or “creator.” In this case, the intertetuality is part of its etymology. For more on that, consult one of the great tools for writing and critical reading: the OED. You can get to it electronically through the library reference database.

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)


class discussion: 9/3

discussed the presence of reading and writing in Frankenstein thus far–where we noticed the acts or reading/writing being focused on in some way.

Shelley’s 1831 Introduction: apparent in how she focuses on the origin of the novel, her unwillingness to take credit for her autobiography, the ways in which she talks about her creative process of “inventing” the story of the novel in similar terms as found in Victor’s story of invention and creating–down to her reference “hideous progeny”

The frame/device of Walton’s letters: the familiarity and intimacy the letters establish, the “you” that addresses the reader, not just his sister

Also started to notice the presence of the writing itself: the different style and tone we see/hear in Walton or Victor. Reiterated that we will be focusing in this book on style as much as on the content: what we can learn from how the writing works.  For example: we discussed the length of Walton’s sentences, use of commas (creating a fluid, inviting narrative); the language/diction Victor uses in describing his desire to “penetrate” the secrets of nature.