I’ve just read Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein and maybe not surprisingly to some of you, I identify more with the monster than its creator. I didn’t lose hope for Frankenstein when he blindly pursued his eccentric hobby, that was a mistake he may have avoided if he were older and wiser. And to his credit, when he first sees the monster, he immediately realizes how terrible his creation is. But when he allows a family friend to be executed for a murder committed by the monster, that’s when I lost all admiration for him.
As to the monster, he was so close to life, society, and happiness, but had it snatched from him at the last minute, leaving him a brooding, hate-filled mass, bent on destruction. And I identify more with him? Well, my life has been a long fall from status into passive irrelevance and with every new unanswered prayer, I get more and more bitter. Deprive me, Lord, but at least let it be for a purpose! As it is, my life’s on a meaningless path.
One thing the monster didn’t try, and that was hedonism. Is all the bitterness and anger towards his creator any more satisfying that the tiniest social necessities he longed for? I think he found out, too late, they were not. He ought to have crawled into a dark part of the Swiss forest and contented himself with sunsets and roots the rest of his life and maybe hope that the human part of him that desired love, companionship, and some semblance of a normal life, would eventually wither away and die in the wilderness.
Necessity has forced me to accept a horrible job working for the state; it’s fraught with abnormally long hours and dangers on all sides. I’ve seen more of the dark underbelly of society in the past week than I hoped ever to see in a lifetime (there are no Dostoyevskys in *this* house of the dead). It’s affected me so much I’m afraid I’ve been both unable and unwilling to post here. All of my intellectual pursuits seem trivial and no longer interest me. I always thought God had instilled a great desire of learning in me for a reason and that all the time, effort, and money I’ve put into my self education was leading up to some grand purpose. Now, I discover it wasn’t and that it was all for nothing.
I wont have the stomach to write any kind of post, story, poem, or song, for many weeks, readers. I hope you forgive the hiatus and I pray that when I do return, it’ll be with a better heart…
…(will that prayer be treated like all my others? Probably.)