Why is it that when a man sits down and begins to address the nature of the soul and the origin of consciousness, he gets talked about like this...
"Such questions [of the nature of the soul], traditionally the province of theologians and philosophers, were now increasingly considered by physicians, science writers, and those who studied what Coleridge called the science of the mind.' They had already been the subject of ingenious scientific experiments in Europe, which gave rise to increasingly fierce debates surrounding the work of Luigi Galvani in Italy and Franz Anton Mesmer in France" (314). (1)
Such strong statements, such ingenious scientific experiments being engaged in by men ACROSS THE CONTINENT!! with FIERCE DEBATES!! and POETRY!! They were like POETS! But SCIENTIFIC POETS! poets of the MIND!!
Don't see what I mean? How about this, you'll like this one...
"But for them [young poets] it still seemed more a psychological than a physiological question. Coleridge in his conversation poems was exploring the metaphysical notion of a 'one Life' that unified all living forms; while Wordsworth in 'Tintern Abbey' wrote tentatively and beautifully of a 'sense sublime/Of something far more deeply interfused/Whose dwelling is in the light of the setting suns.' Both writers, at this most radical point in their lives, were trying to avoid an explicit reference to God, while retaining their intuitions of a 'spiritual' power -- whatever that might be-- both within man and within the natural universe. It was a balancing act, that, perhaps, could only be performed in poetry" (316).
Just gives you the warm fuzzies, huh? Imagine Wordsworth, at a most radical point in his life, grappling with the question of the divine and the origin of the soul, beautifully and tentatively making his way to his conclusions in a demonstration of balance, poise and grace that one could, perhaps, only imagine in the world of late romantic poetry.
Just... *tears up* Just give me a minute here... I think I'm gonna cry.
*takes a minute*
*gets over it*
Aaand moooooving on... one last one, just to make my point.
"Keats [in the Lamia poem] never lets his reader forget this traumatic birth, and what it costs the serpent to become a human being. His extraordinary invention, perhaps the most brilliant and thought-provoking of all his narrative poems, engages many of the moral issues surrounding Vitalism, the nature of life, and the notion of human consciousness. Above all, perhaps, it asks if the beautiful Lamia has a soul" (325)
That's just... beautiful. Heart-wrenching really. Such genius, such thought-provoking narrative... such engagement with moral issues and the really tough questions of like, consciousness, and the soul. Really, just... touching...
So yeah. the dudes. The dudes had it going on. So what about the lady folk? What were they up to? Well, Mary Shelley (thanks to the helpful helperness of her husband Percy Shelley, never forget the helpful helperness of her husband) was penning a little ditty known as Frankenstein. It's written that,
"Mary's brilliance was to see that these weighty and often alarming ideas [of science and psychology] could be given highly suggestive, imaginative and even playful form. In a sense, she would treat male concepts in a female style. She would develop what William Lawrence [the hero of the first part of the text and a scientist] had dismissed in his lectures as a 'hypothesis or fiction'" (327).
So yeah, ladies were writing, and they were writing in lady style. 'Cause lord knows that fiction (not poetry, never poetry) was the creation of what real scientist would call derisively a hypothesis-- the antithesis of real science, of real fact finding, of THINGS. (2)
Don't believe me? Well, in case you didn't get that female genius comes filtered through their ovaries, let's take a later example from the text...
"As her novel developed, Mary Shelley began to ask in what sense Frankenstein's new 'Creature' would be human. Would it have language, would it have a moral conscience, would it have human feelings and sympathies, would it have a soul? (It should not be forgotten that Mary Shelley was pregnant with her own baby in 1817.)... Here again it seems that [Percy] Shelley, who was attending medical consultations with Lawrence throughout spring 1817, and may sometimes have been accompanied by Mary, made an opportunity for all three of them to explore these specialist themes" (331) [author emphasis].
Oh yeah, ladies totally think with their bits and their babies. Now Keats, Keats had "extraordinary invention," and questions about the soul of a beautiful woman.(3) Shelley, well, she may have tagged along to some science debates with her dude and, well, she was preggers, so let's not go reading too much into her "female style" and her "highly suggestive" and even "playful" form. Nope, nothing to see here but some women talking about things their reproductive system thought up while in the presence of her husband and, I hope you caught this, the VERY SAME DUDE that called (derisively) what Mary wrote a "hypothesis or fiction."
Now, it is totally possible that I am misreading this text, but I think it highly suggestive (*snort*) that when the author here discusses the poetry of Wordsworth, he places the responsibility of the thought and imagination of the speaker firmly within the mind of Wordsworth. Meanwhile, in his discussion of Frankenstein, the author places the brilliant connections and allusions within the grasp of the characters themselves. It's like... they're like... totally real dude.
Exhibit A: "In a sense, both [Frankenstein and his creation] have lost their own souls. Drawing on the Miltonic imagery of Paradise Lost, both see themselves as fallen angels, doomed to eternal solitude and destruction" (333).
Yeah, 'cause, ya know. The characters have will. And action, and the ability to, like, write their own narrative, yo. Mary's lady bits probably hadn't read Milton, but man, her characters sure as hell did. Now Keats, man, he really knew how to explore some issues, to dive into narrative... and Mary, man, she's just lucky her characters were so well read, huh? Maybe they picked it up from her husband? After all, he was pretty well written, yeah? And Mary, well, she only wrote that one book... right?
Right?
I mean, wait. It's not like she wrote more than one novel huh? It's not like she wrote, like 14 novels or some such thing... (4) or she was big into multiple genres like poetry, biography, or any thing like that... that's crap...
Right?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Bueller?
Nobody? That's right, 'cuase she totally did. Hot damn, her ovaries got around... I mean, like, can you image all the work they had to do? All the work everyone around her had to do? All the dudes who had to facilitate her "specialist themes"? (5)
Damn. Guess I need to take my lady bits and go think somewhere else, who knows, maybe if I meets the right man, they'll write my dissertation for me!
Dr. Villainelle.
1 The Text at Hand is Richard Holmes The Age of Wonder, which isn't really all that bad of a text... if you excuse what I find to be a crap reading of Frankenstein and a frankly overblown approach to the whole era. Yeah, I like the poetry, too. It's awesome. But it's also problematic. And I know that you've got it out for William Lawerence, but if you title a chapter "Dr Frankenstein and the Soul," and then spend the whole time talking about how Mary Shelley got lucky that everyone around her (including her characters) were so damn smart, and all you really wanted to do was set up a punch line about how William Lawerence was the one who lost his soul (oh ha, ha, ha. yeah, you really got me there Richard), then title the damn thing "William Lawerence and the Miracle of the Female Reproductive System when Impregnated by Smart Men and their IDEAS." But I guess that doesn't have quite the same ring, now, huh?
2. Okay, okay, okay. Yes, I know, the novel gets quite a bit more problematic than this, and it's not right of me to make broad sweeping generalizations about the novel in the late Romantic/early Victorian time period... but my point is, does anyone else find it odd that THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS CHAPTER DOES? The general trend of this chapter (can't talk about the whole book, sorry, author fail) is that men are POETS and SCIENTISTS and women write FICTION which is the antithesis of SCIENCE which is an awful lot like POETRY.
3. Okay, okay. I'm totally being a bit unfair. The beautiful woman was actually a bit of a snake and the whole thing is very beautiful and tragic... but don't you get the messed-up-edness of it all? That Keats is a genius when he talks about a beautiful woman/monster/thing, and Mary Shelley was unduly influenced by enveryone around her when she writes about an ugly man/creature? Yeah, maybe not, but it's my post and I DO what I WANT!
4. This website is pretty much crap, but it's better than Wiki, and it spend a bit more time talking about Mary than Percy, so I'll count it as a win.
5. That's totally what she said.
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