Science fiction begins with Frankenstein.
So many of the ideas, and the tropes,
even the philosophy behind science fiction come
from this one great work.
So let us start where we must, and talk Frankenstein.
The very first sentence of the preface
to Frankenstein reads thus,
"The event on which this fiction is founded,
"has been supposed, by Dr. Darwin, and some of
"the physiological writers of Germany,
"as not of impossible occurrence.
"I shall not be supposed as according the remotest degree
"of serious faith to such an imagination,
"yet, in assuming it as the basis of a work of fancy,
"I have not considered myself as merely weaving
"a series of supernatural terrors."
And it is on that statement that all
of science fiction is founded.
Shelley is saying that the events in this book
could be real, not that they are real
or even that they are remotely likely,
but they could exist in the universe we know.
Eventually, we will escape the bounds of
this statement with science fiction,
but it's this idea, the idea that our sci-fi
tales exist within our rational world,
within the bounds of what science tells us is possible,
that makes science fiction different fundamentally different
from fantasy or myth.
And that thought is incredibly important
at the birth of the genre.
This is what separates it out as its own distinct
literary branch and allows it to have rules
and conventions unlike those already existing genres
of the fantastic, of horror or folklore or myth.
It's also initially part of what gets us to buy in.
Science fiction uses the possible as a lens for our world.
It may be the remote and the unlikely,
but what better way to look at human nature than
to set it against the extreme cases of what
it might someday encounter and see what rolls out.
This is so important to Shelley that it's
the very first thing that's presented to the reader.
Without this idea of the fantastic possible,
I don't think we have science fiction.
But that is far from the only standard Frankenstein
created for sci-fi.
Today, we are going to explore all
the other ways that Frankenstein established tropes,
styles, and techniques that we almost take
for granted in sci-fi today.
Now, before I tread any further, I should say one thing,
if you only know this story from the movies,
you don't actually know this story at all.
The films have little to do with the book,
and while it is actually a really worthwhile exercise
to think about why this story has been interpreted
and reimagined the way it has throughout the 20th century.
everything I talk about today will be
regarding the original work.
So let's start at the beginning, with a young man,
obsessed by alchemy and yet fascinated by
the power of science.
A young man determined to overcome death for
the fame it might bring him.
A young man blind to the consequences of
what he is trying to do.
Let's talk about Victor Frankenstein.
Victor is the blueprint for the frustrated scientist trope.
All of those other scientists you read about in comics,
see in movies, or find in the pages of later
science fiction, those who would have been so great
for the world if the world had only acknowledged
their genius, they are all basically
riffs on Victor Frankenstein.
In fact, this has become so common
and so ingrained into pop culture that a lot
of these characters pop up without their authors
even really thinking about the legacy
of Victor Frankenstein that they come from.
Victor is also our model of scientific hubris.
He believes that he can best death itself by creating
life out of the parts of the dead,
and thinking his own intellect to be so superior,
he doesn't even once consider the ramifications
of what he's doing until it's too late.
He is the model for all of those characters punished
for defying the laws of nature,
for the scientist so obsessed with pursuing their ideas
that they don't even consider what those ideas
might ultimately mean for humanity.
But he's also a coward.
At the first sight of his own creation,
he flees because it's physically deformed,
because it's too ugly to look at
just the way he made it.
Which brings us to the monster itself.
An innocent, filled with gentle kindness and
a love for the world, who is rejected at every turn
for his physical appearance,
eventually growing callus and cold.
How many times in science fiction have we seen
this monster with the heart of gold?
I present to you that trope's origins,
and like many things in Frankenstein Shelley explores
this trope far more thoroughly than
many who would eventually borrow it.
The monster, outwardly ugly, finds itself continuously
rejected by an inwardly ugly humanity,
rejected at birth by Victor,
attacked in the first village he visited,
turned away by the cottagers he cared for
and thus, at last the monster turns on humanity itself.
This theme of rejection despite offering
the best intentions and offering something truly of worth,
has become not only a theme of science fiction
literature but of the geek culture that
has grown up around it.
But part of the reason that we see nobility in
the monster is that we see it self educate,
reading the greatest books of the past.
Mary Shelley saw her work as part of
an ongoing tradition of Western literature.
Paradise Lost, Dante, The Sorrows of Young Werther,
these are all directly referenced in the work.
They serve as a foundation, as key insights into
the character of the Monster,
and they are things that the writer expects
the reader to at least have a passing familiarity with.
That's something that would became part of the genre, too.
Works like Hyperion are firmly grounded in that tradition,
borrowing structure from Canterbury Tales and The Decameron,
even taking it's name from a Keats poem.
Even pieces as odd as Dhalgren rely on the mythological
and literary tradition of the west.
There is an expectation in science fiction that
the reader is well read.
But there's an on-going debate as to whether sci-fi
itself is part of the classic tradition or something new,
and as great works of science fiction pour in
from all over the globe, bringing in new traditions,
that question becomes even more complex.
But I should also mention how this tale is told,
through letters, relating a story told
to a young man named Robert by the strange
and wild scientist he finds out upon the ice.
Frankenstein is actually a story within
a story within a book.
The whole work is actually an epistolary novel,
although that's easy to forget.
And this allows us a juxtaposition.
Simply by having the young Robert's story set side
by side with Victor's, as a reader,
we are forced to consider the eager young explorer's ideals
and, far more importantly, his motivations.
We are forced to contrast them with Victor's
just by using this framing device,
Mary Shelley forces us as readers to think about some
of the ideas she wants us to consider.
And, while we rarely see this particular framing device
again, it's important because it kicks off
a long tradition of science fiction using framing devices,
especially for the purpose of making us question
just how reliable the central narrator really is.
And finally we have the title,
or rather the alternate title, The Modern Prometheus.
On the surface level, the allusion here seems clear,
Victor breathes life into inanimate flesh
and he brings knowledge at great cost,
which would certainly qualify him as The Modern Prometheus
but the novel makes a point of the fact that he never
actually shares that knowledge, no one ever finds out
how he made his reanimated man.
So the Prometheus label doesn't entirely fit him.
But if not Victor, then who is this
alternate title referring to?
It refers to the scientific method.
It's this approach to the world that offers us so much,
that brings mankind so much, but at what cost?
In the end, what will be the price of such marvels?
We are asked this time and time again in science fiction,
it's one of sci-fi's most enduring themes.
From the Martian Chronicles, to Pump 6, Terminator,
to the Matrix we see it again and again and again.
And I think It's important to note,
the alternate title isn't The New Icarus.
Prometheus's story isn't a flew too close to the sun,
brought about your own destruction cautionary tale.
In Prometheus's story, he does suffer for his actions
but his sacrifice benefits us all.
The greatest good comes through that sacrifice.
These books, these works of art that examine
the farthest edge of where our science might lead us
can be cautionary tales while simultaneously celebrating
science, daring us to push ahead as far and as fast
as we can while, at the same time, urging us
to be wiser than their protagonists.
So now that we're on firm ground with Frankenstein's place
in the history of science fiction, join us next week
as we begin to talk about all the other works
that Shelley references throughout this great piece,
and as we discuss how those works help us
to better understand her own.