Wednesday, August 22, 2012

The abject of my affections: A Kristevan take on Frankenstein

Theorist Julia Kristeva originated the idea of the "abject" - "the human reaction (horror, vomit) to a threatened breakdown in meaning caused by the loss of the distinction between subject and object or between self and other" (Felluga). The best example of the abject is the corpse, as it "traumatically reminds us of our own materiality" (ibid). To sketch it in simpler strokes; in the abject we identify something which used to be human, but is no longer. We react to the abject with a mix of horror, pity and fear. Although the novel was written many years before Kristeva's theory, the monster in Shelley's Frankenstein is an excellent example of the abject.


Although Shelley does not go into details about how Frankenstein created his monster, we can assume that he is crafted from human cadavers, either a whole body reanimated or - as most Hollywood depictions have it - assembled from parts. Victor refers to the "dissecting room and the slaughter-house", the "vaults and charnel-house". The monster, therefore, is an abject thing by Kristeva's definition: he used to be a subject of society (a man) but has since become an object (a cadaver, or parts thereof). Victor creates the monster to resemble a beautiful human being, but is eventually repulsed by his creation: "His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips". His most hideous aspects are those which resemble a cadaver: witness the "yellow skin", "shrivelled complexion" and "black lips".
Because of his abject state - once human, now something other - the monster engenders repulsion in all who see him. Women flee and faint; Felix, Agatha and Safie react with "horror and consternation"; William calls him a "monster", an "ugly wretch"; even the gentle Walton says "Never did I behold a vision so horrible as his face, of such loathsome yet appalling hideousness". Even that which is abject reacts with horror to itself: the monster says after seeing his own reflection, "when I became fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification". Freud's concept of the uncanny - a thing which is at once familiar and foreign - is also relevant here. In a sense, the monster is rejected not so much because he is not-human, but because he is too much like a human for ontological comfort. The monster knows this: "God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance". Like the abject, the uncanny - by its resemblance to humanity - forces us into a confrontation with the "other".
At its heart, the abject is a reaction against "death's insistent materiality" (Felluga): a realisation of our very temporary status as subjects of society. In Frankenstein, Shelley does more than present us with an example of the abject: she gives it a voice with which to express its anger and sorrow: "Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow creatures, who owe me nothing? They spurn and hate me... I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness".

Works cited:
Felluga, Dino. "Modules on Kristeva: On the Abject." Introductory Guide to Critical Theory. Purdue U, January 8 2011. Web. August 18, 2012.
Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Project Gutenberg, June 17 2008. Web. August 18, 2012.

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