Nature In Frankenstein Romantic Echoes In Poetry And Paint

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein stands as a powerful testament to the Romantic era, not merely in its gothic themes of ambition and transgression, but profoundly in its engagement with the natural world. The novel’s landscapes are far more than mere backdrops; they are active participants in the narrative, mirroring the emotional turmoil of its characters and embodying the era’s fascination with the sublime, the picturesque, and the untamed power of nature. This engagement with the natural world echoes sentiments found across Romantic literature and art, particularly in the works of poets like William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and painters such as Caspar David Friedrich.

From the outset, nature in Frankenstein is presented as a force of overwhelming beauty and terrifying power. Victor Frankenstein’s initial scientific endeavors are often framed by his deep connection to the natural world. His childhood in Geneva, surrounded by the Alps and the Lake Geneva region, instills in him a profound appreciation for its grandeur. He recalls, "It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils..." but the immediate aftermath is not one of scientific triumph, but of revulsion against the unnatural creation, juxtaposed against the still-present, indifferent beauty of the natural world outside his laboratory window. The sublime terror of the storm that accompanies the animation of the creature – "a flash of lightning illuminated the object, and discovered its shape" – directly links the act of unnatural creation with the awesome, uncontrollable forces of nature. This is a hallmark of Romanticism, where nature is not simply a passive setting but a dynamic entity capable of inspiring awe and dread, reflecting the concept of the sublime as articulated by Edmund Burke, where terror and beauty converge.

Following his abandonment of the creature, Victor frequently seeks solace or escape in nature. His journeys into the desolate landscapes of the Alps and the Arctic are not just attempts to flee his guilt but also to find a sense of peace or catharsis in the vastness and indifference of the natural world. The descriptions of these environments are rich with Romantic sensibility: the "eternal snows," the "dreary and barren" mountains, the "vast and frozen ocean." These are places where human concerns seem insignificant against the immensity of geological time and elemental power. When Victor encounters his creature on the Mer de Glace, the setting itself becomes a stage for their confrontation. The "vast and gloomy" glacier, a place of immense, slow-moving power and stark, unforgiving beauty, perfectly reflects the monumental and tragic nature of their relationship. The creature, too, finds a form of communion with nature, albeit a solitary and often harsh one. He describes his initial experiences in the wilderness with a sense of wonder and discovery, learning about the world through direct sensory experience, much like the Romantic ideal of the noble savage or the individual finding truth through unmediated contact with the environment. His observations of the changing seasons, the behavior of animals, and the cycles of life and death underscore a natural order that Victor, in his hubris, sought to subvert.

These depictions resonate strongly with the poetry of William Wordsworth, who saw nature as a source of moral instruction, spiritual solace, and profound emotional experience. Wordsworth’s belief that "Nature never did betray / The heart that loved her" stands in stark contrast to Victor’s tortured relationship with the natural world, which offers him no true peace, only fleeting moments of awe that are ultimately overshadowed by his internal torment. Yet, the intensity of Victor’s feeling when immersed in nature – the "serene and placid" moments by the lake, the "sublime” vistas of the mountains – mirrors Wordsworth’s own ecstatic communion with the natural world. Similarly, Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poetry, particularly works like The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, shares Frankenstein’s preoccupation with the awe-inspiring and sometimes terrifying power of the natural world, and the consequences of transgressing its perceived order. The Mariner’s supernatural journey, fraught with storms and spectral phenomena, finds a parallel in Victor’s own descent into a personal hell, haunted by the consequences of his actions, often set against dramatic natural backdrops.

Visually, the sublime landscapes of Frankenstein find a direct echo in the paintings of Caspar David Friedrich. Friedrich’s iconic works, such as Wanderer above the Sea of Fog or The Abbey in the Oakwood, depict solitary figures dwarfed by immense, often mist-shrouded or desolate natural scenes. These paintings capture the Romantic fascination with the individual confronting the vastness of nature, evoking feelings of awe, melancholy, and introspection. The solitary, often isolated protagonists in Friedrich’s work mirror Victor’s own profound isolation and his overwhelming sense of being lost within forces larger than himself. The dramatic lighting, the emphasis on atmospheric effects, and the sense of spiritual or existential contemplation in Friedrich’s canvases are all present in Shelley’s prose descriptions of the Alps, the Arctic, and the desolate moors where the creature roams.

Ultimately, nature in Frankenstein serves multiple functions. It is a source of aesthetic beauty and Romantic sublime, a mirror to the characters' psychological states, and a thematic counterpoint to the unnaturalness of Victor’s creation. Shelley masterfully employs the natural world not just to set the scene, but to deepen the novel’s exploration of human ambition, isolation, guilt, and the profound, often terrifying, power of forces beyond human control. The echoes of Romantic poetry and painting are not incidental; they are integral to understanding the novel’s enduring power and its place within the broader cultural and artistic landscape of its time.