Friday, January 31, 2014

(Blog 2) Education in Shelley’s Frankenstein


There seems to be a higher level of agency afforded to the characters in Frankenstein regarding their own education. Whereas, in the Vindication of the Right’s of Women and in Northanger Abbey there was a lot of focus on the mother as an educator, the importance of experience, and the importance of a formal education. Thos texts, particularly Wollstonecraft’s, talk a lot about whose duty it is to do the educating, which often points to some “other” whether that is the mother, teachers, etc. Contrastingy, Shelley’s Frankenstein places an emphasis on the desire to learn and the power of the autodidact.  Both Walton and Frankenstein take the initiative to study books to such an extent that they are both able to learn and practice their respective trades (fisherman and scientist) mainly through self education, although Frankenstein does attend college and receives more direction.

First Walton is introduced and he explains that although his education (his formal education) was neglected, he was “passionately fond of reading.” Walton studies about voyages day and night and is able to learn a trade through his self-discipline. Walton is fascinating because he does not limit himself only to books that will help him become a fisherman/voyager. He also remarks on his time spent reading poetry and how he himself tried out the practice. He speaks on this topic with a sort of reverence, going so far as to call his attempt at writing “a Paradise of my own creation.” Here I wonder how much of Shelley and her reverence for her fellow friends in her literary circle is coming out. Later in the book there are allusions to more poets and even a piece of Coleridge within the text. By contrasting Walton’s study of nautical literature and his study of poetry, Shelley explores multiple purposes of education, even if it is an informal one. On the one hand, Walton uses his readings as a utility, to learn a trade. On the other hand, he reads poetry and experiences it as a creative outlet and art form, something that give him great pleasure.

Frankenstein too tells about the passions which led him to conduct his own study of various subjects. At 13, he found a book which, at first, he thought might be boring. Upon reading it, he gained an enthusiasm for natural philosophy and so was spurred to read extensively on the subject. Again, Shelley shows how the desire to learn and the self-discipline to study alone can lead to a rich self-education. However, with Frankenstein, she also shows how one’s passions for knowledge might be greatly influenced by others, particularly professors. Frankenstein is disillusioned from the study of natural philosophy and for a while he leaves it to study mathematics instead. When he goes to Ingolstadt, Krempe turns him off from natural philosophy while Waldman inspires him to take up its study with his greatest fervor yet, stating “From this day natural philosophy, particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation.” The combination of Frankenstein’s passion for knowledge and Waldman’s support push him to a point in which his life is consumed by the pursuit of his subject.

                Notably, while the power of self-education is emphasized, there is still a level of privilege that must presuppose any autodidacticism. Both Walton and Frankenstein must both be literate before their desire to gain more knowledge can actually be utilized. Shelley exposes the role of individual agency in pursuing education, however, this would be unattainable if one could not read or did not have access to books.

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Friday, January 24, 2014

(Blog 1) Northanger Abbey

Scene-Chapter XIV, Walking around Beechen Cliff with the Tilneys

At the beginning of this scene Catherine states “I never look at it [the hill] without thinking of the south of France.” Tilney is surprised at first because they had previously discussed that she had not ventured much abroad (except for Bath). She then reveals that she has only dreamed about these places through the reading of novels such as the Mysteries of Udolpho.

Here Catherine expects to be put down once again for her love of novels (as she had earlier by John Thorpe). She also considers Tilney highly educated and expects for him to be a reader of “better books” and not novels. Tilney’s response is surprising because, while he often teases her on points of education, here he agrees with her about the pleasure of novels. He goes so far as to state “The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not the pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.” Rather than pinning Catherine as unintelligent for her lack of experience traveling and reading high brow literature, he pins “the other” as the “intolerably stupid.”

Instead of mocking Catherine for her lack of travel experience, he praises her for her enjoyment of novels. In a sense, this scene compares elements of formal education (better books, real travel experience) alongside elements of imagination (the reading of novels) and it finds value in those elements of imagination, both pleasurable and educative. Although Catherine has not seen many places before, she has been able to imagine them through novels. Therefore, she is better off for having read something rather than nothing, even if she did not read “better books.”

Furthermore, he aligns himself with Catherine in this moment by claiming his own love for novels, particularly Radcliffe novels and the Mysteries of Udolpho. He does this in a very clever way as to both align himself with Catherine and not embarrass her, but to still maintain a level of power, dominance, and/or intelligence over her. First, he reveals that he too finds pleasure and even value in the reading of novels. Next, he claims that he has read far more than Catherine (“hundreds and hundreds”) and that if she questions him on novels he has read: “I shall soon leave you as far behind me as…”

To drive his intellectual superiority further, he switches to a point of conversation on an aspect of more formal education. While he may be willing to indulge with Catherine on matters of novels and imagination (he does this in other scenes such as telling her ghost stories, etc.), he still finds it necessary to correct her on issues of formal education, particularly language. Catherine questions “do you not think Udolpho the nicest book in the world?” Tilney then expounds on his problems with her usage of the word nice. He complains about the overuse of ‘nice’ in every situation and how it has become a rather flimsy and meaningless expression which will not do to describe the book (or anything else for that matter).


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