FRANKENSTEIN AND THE INOCULATED READER FRANKENSTEIN; OR THE MODERN PROMETHEUS AND THE INOCULATED READER By JANE L. DROVER, B.A., M.A. A Thesis Submitted to the School of Graduate Studies in Partial Fulfilment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy McMaster University (c) Copyright by Jane L. Drover, June 1990 DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY (1990) MCMASTER UNIVERSITY (English) Hamilton, Ontario TITLE: Frankenstein; Or The Modern Prometheus and The Inoculated Reader AUTHOR: Jane Drover, B.A. (McMaster University) M.A. (McMaster University) SUPERVISOR: Dr. Joan Coldwell NUMBER OF PAGES: vii, 337 ii Abstract My thesis examines the relationship between Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus and the Frankenstein myth as it has come to be known because of film. I propose that present-day readers, in addition to having a repository of literary knowledge, also have a reservoir of f ilmic memories on which to draw when they read. These visual 'texts' can function, I argue, not only as inter-texts but also as signs, indicating to us how to read certain written texts. Building on reader-response criticism, I include these visual signs in my analysis of the reading experience of Frankenstein. After outlining a brief history of visualizations of the novel on stage and in film and commenting on the contributions these adaptations gave to the story, I focus on the James Whale classics of 1931 and 1935. It is to. these films that we owe the figures of the Karloffian monster, the hunchbacked assistant, the 'mad' scientist, and the monster's grotesque 'bride.' Having imitated the common order of our exposure to the myth -- that is we know or know of Frankenstein films before we arrive at the novel I define and explain the iii theoretical concepts of narrative and filmic afterimages. I then discuss their circulation in and revitalization through such agencies as advertisements, cartoons, and film and television remakes, illustrating how the Frankenstein story continues to be invoked and reworked in our culture. I then turn to the novel and focus, first, on its reception and treatment by literary critics. Next, I examine its questioning and, at times, subverting, of such institutions as science, marriage, and orthodox Christianity. I also examine the novel's questioning of such concepts as narrative closure, the unity of character, and the possiblity of knowing 'reality.' At the same time, I illustrate (1) how literary critics, in dismissing the novel as flawed, actually shield us from the novel's subversiveness and (2) how film versions of Frankenstein and their circulating afterimages not only work to diminish the dis-ease which the novel elicits but, in fact, inoculate us against this dis-ease. I conclude my study by relying on yet another metaphor -- Freud's concept of "screen memory." We have, as my thesis illustrates, been effectively screened from Mary Shelley's novel. The version of the myth as it has come to be known by today's reader is not only tame (and tamed) by comparison but is, in some instances, antithetical to the novel. What I propose is both an acceptance of filmic afterimages of novels which have been visualized and a critical reading of these images. In the case of iv Frankenstein, once we become aware of how certain filmic afterimages are operating, we can work towards a "cleansing of the doors of perception," so that in removing the film from before our eyes, we may see yet another, darker side of the myth. v Acknowledgements I am proud to have this opportunity to acknowledge all those who have supported me throughout the writing of this thesis. First, I thank my family, especially parents, Jack and Roberta Drover, for their faith, their encouragement and, as always, their love. I thank also my long-time friend and colleague, Connie Brim. Over the years, Connie gave more than can be asked of a friend: her time, her emotional support, and her shared commitment to Feminist scholarship. She also made me believe in my work on those occasions when I doubted myself. It is difficult to thank someone adequately for that. I also acknowledge the members of my committee for all their valuable insights and guidance. Graham Petrie shared with me his expertise on film and offered much assistance throughout my writing of this thesis. And, too, Don Goelln:Lcht was always there to offer advice, to challenge me into new ways of seeing, and to support my own challenge to tradition. Together, both of my readers provided me with much appreciated intellectual support. Joan Coldwell, my supervisor and friend, deserves special thanks. I first met Joan while I was an undergraduate, but I can still recall her strong commitment to her students. For myself and many women students, Joan became a role model, illustrating to us that we, too, could pursue a career in Academe. As the years passed, Joan encouraged me to find my own voice and my own style. This thesis represents my discovering of that voice. Thank you Joan for listening. Finally, I would like to thank my sister, Mary. She too has been a role model to me. Mary Shelley taught me how monsters are made. My sister shows me everyday the courage it takes to fight them. I dedicate this thesis to my sister. Table of Contents Preliminaries Introduction 1 Chapter One: "Sur Les Traces de Frankenstein 17 Chapter Two: Surprised by Cinema 103 Chapter Three: "'Pardon This Intrusion'": Frankenstein's Reception 160 Chapter Four: Screen Memory: A Postscript 246 Notes: 289 Introduction For many of my generation, raised during the film and television era, reading was an activity which was enjoyed alongside much exposure to the visual media. In fact, in my own household, reading was even put aside in favour of such special weekly events as Walt Disney's Sunday Night Special and Bonanza. 1 Thus, at the same time that I and others like myself were learning how to read, we were also learning -- to use James Monaco's words "how to read a film. 112 Since, as Monaco argues, "anyone of minimal intelligence over the age of four can more or less -- grasp the basic content of a film or television program without any special training," we, as readers, then, could not avoid having our reading experience influenced in some way by our exposure to Hollywood's or television's modes of storytelling. Indeed, like Stanley Fish's "fallen reader," we come to the written word, not so much tainted by our exposure to sin but, rather, by our exposure to cinema. Admittedly, this is an area of study which, because of the large number of variables, renders any definitive statements dangerous, if not next to impossible; nonetheless, because of the vast number of readers it concerns -- my own and 1 2 subsequent generations -- it does deserve a fuller examination than critics to this point have given it. My own study of the influence of films on the reading experience is a good beginning primarily because of the unique nature of the Frankenstein story itself. Its popularity -- one which extends even beyond film -- has made it a twentieth-century presence to which, in some form or another, most readers have been exposed. The degree of exposure, of course, will vary depending on the number of films seen and the time elapsed since last viewing the film or films, but it would be the rare reader indeed who has not, for reasons I will outline in chapter one, either retained a visual memory of the Boris Karloff monster, or acquired a basic outline of the conflict between the scientist and his creation. There is then at least this common ground from which to examine the relationship between the novel and its numerous visualizations. Added to this common experience is another which many readers share: we read the novel only after having already been exposed to the myth through such agencies as film, television and advertising. In fact, such a collective experience of the myth has led more than one critic to claim: "It's a commonplace now that everybody talks about Frankenstein, but nobody reads it" (Levine Endurance 3) . 3 ­ Those of us excluded from this category, particularly those of us who have, like myself, read the 3 novel after years of exposure to the story in its many and various visual forms, are the readers with whom I am especially concerned. My study does not attempt to be all-inclusive (as there will always be exceptions) nor does it in any way -- because of the nature of the study attempt to be conclusive. It does , however, examine the Frankensti=in reader by taking into account what to date has been avoided in Frankenstein studies: the influence of visualizations of the myth on the reading experience and the dialectic which develops between the twentieth-century reader (with all his or her filmic baggage) and the written text itself. In many ways the Frankenstein reader is just as much a construction as Victor's creation. We too owe our origin to science or technology, in this case the technology of cinema, and we are, like the creature, also a hybrid being, informed in part by film, in part by television, and in part by the pervasiveness of the myth in our day-to-day experience. Such day-to-day experience can include anything from a recent article on brain transplants in the Globe and Mail (see chapter one) to the press statement released early in 1988 by the Reagan administration, one which accused General Manuel Noriega of being a Frankenstein.