Sympathy In Frankenstein

As far as personal experience of creating and consulting monsters go, most individuals find themselves lacking. Victor Frankenstein, however, has an abundance of credentials. With his extensive history on the subject, one expects him to be a master of the art. Pity for Frankenstein arises naturally after learning of the disastrous results his studies imparted on his life. Upon closer evaluation however, pity transforms into antipathy. Pity for the monster, at first detestable, becomes much more prevalent upon closer scrutiny. Whereas Victor Frankenstein brings about his own destruction, the monster has little control in curbing the course of his personal misfortune. Frankenstein has the ability to avoid every sorrow he encounters in the story

if he only recognizes the evil of his work. The monster has no chance for joy from the moment of his becoming aware, even when he actively pursues it.
At first, Victor Frankenstein appears very competent, if not admirable, in regards to his intelligence and ambition.

He desires knowledge. He wants prestige. He seeks discovery. Frankenstein defines the ideal, passionate student. His pursues his goal with ardor and eagerness. Sympathizing to Frankenstein when he was a young, inspired, innocent pupil is easy. He is swept up in his world of possibilities of which he was rapidly learning. The strenuous acquisition of enlightenment invigorates him, “. . . from the midst of this darkness a sudden light broke in upon me. . .I was surprised that among so many men of genius, who had directed their inquiries towards the same science, that I alone should be reserved to discover so astonishing a secret,” (34). I empathize to the temptation of pride, but for Frankenstein, pride is his

hamartia.
Victor’s complete intoxication of his scrupulous undertaking sweeps away any residing sympathy. His reckless pursuit brings about his undoing. Had he disregarded what he could do, in lieu of what he should do, he would have avoided so much suffering. He knew what he sought after was horrific “as [he] dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave, or tortured the living animal to the lifeless clay” (36). His selfish pride and urge to affirm his own knowledge forbade him to forego his heinous effort, “. . . but I could not rear my thoughts from my employment, loathsome in itself, but which had taken an irresistible hold of my imagination,” (37).
Frankenstein’s undoing results from his own brash decisions. The monster’s unfortunate fate, however, does not originate from himself. They result from the events and characters surrounding him. His very life is induced at the hands of a man. He learns by observing man. He develops his understanding by the treatment he receivs from man. The monster is a creature of consequence; the treatment of others constructs him. Therefore, he inspires pity more than repugnance.
From the initial moments of his life, the monster faces a world without compassion.

His own creator cannot bear the sight of him, let alone his presence. He is not man, though he was created by parts of them. He is not a beast, though he has the strength of them. Circumstances and the abhorrence with which everyone reacts with when they see him forces the creature into solitude and desolation. He discovers his own self-hatred as well, “. . .when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification. Alas! I did not yet entirely know the fatal effects of this miserable deformity,” (90). The monster laments his existence, and acutely feels the absence of companionship. He seeks friendship but even the most gentle of souls cannot stomach the sight of him. The monster promises to leave, to separate himself from the rest of mankind so long as he receives a

mate.
Is it wrong to desire a release from isolation? Frankenstein denies him this solace. He tears away the monster’s hope in front of his very eyes, “The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness, and, with a howl of devilish despair and revenge, withdrew,” (139). The monster murders, destroys, terrifies. But had he received a little mercy, a little instruction, he would have acted differently. If he had a relief to the oppression of seclusion, the monster believed he could be happy. He swears to leave in peace. Instead, he faces dashed hopes and the constant reminder that others had what he could not. “Shall each man,’ cried he, ‘find a wife for his bosom, and each beast have his mate, and I be alone? . . . Are you to be happy, while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness?” (140). The weight of knowing he would never have a partner tormented the creature, but the idea of his creator securing that unattainable happiness tortured him even more.
The creature swears that if he cannot attain his own felicity, neither can his creator. Despair rakes the creature to such an extent that nothing can dissuade him from dragging those around him into destruction, which is the point where it is difficult to feel sympathy. Sorrow and loneliness are afflictions that everyone feels. Feeling pain, however, does not excuse punishing every person that falls under your immediate visage. The monster declares this to be his intention, “I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness,” (78). His utter rage dominates his sense. He clings to this avarice and forfeits his other traits in order to target Frankenstein, “You can blast my other passions; but revenge remains- revenge, henceforth dearer than light or food!” (140). He decides to live his life in chase of the creator of his unhappiness, instead of in pursuit of his own future.
The monster’s reaction arises from his lack of understanding. His creator rejects him, leaving him without education, without any love. Everything the monster contacts provide a lesson. These enlightenments are insufficient, however. He cannot solely develop a conscience by observation, which explains why his is so volatile. Whenever he interacts with people, they treat him cruelly due to his appearance. These reactions leave him with very little ability to grow. When the creature behaves evilly, he faces harsh judgement and cruelty. When he behaves kindly, he faces harsh judgement and cruelty. He cannot win.
I feel sympathy for Victor Frankenstein for the motivations which led to his accursed venture. This feeling is lost for Frankenstein when he displays his utter disregard in meddling in dark occupations. He understands the vileness of his pastime, but is too infatuated with the idea of glory to abandon it. I feel sympathy for the monster in his desolation and in his solitude. This regard for the creature is lessened when he reacts with complete abandon and avarice to his tragic circumstances. Instead of searching for a different source of well-being, he decides to destroy every chance of Frankenstein receiving his. Though disproportional, his response warrants more understanding due to his situation. The monster did not receive sufficient education and never secured complete understanding of virtue. Therefore, he cannot be expected to live according to a moral code he does not have. Frankenstein has no such excuse. If Frankenstein behaved benevolently or wisely, the entirety of misfortune would have been averted.