Near the beginning of the book Victor Frankenstein says “I saw the dull yellow eye
of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsion motion agitated it's
limbs. How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the
wretch whom with such infinite pains care I have endeavoured to form?”
I wonder what it must have felt like to feel like God, to give life, to posses that power. Only a mad man would want to feel like God, to have the ability to give life and resurrect the “dead”, and to be like no one on earth.
Victor describes what he sees as his creation takes life. In some sort of twisted way this is Victor Frankenstein’s child. He created it, although he did not create it in god’s image, he still created a life.
After all the work he put into making the monster, he just ends up being disgusted by it-what kind of parent is that. As a parent he should have taken care of what he created no matter what. This could relate to my life because I, myself was an “accident”, if my parents did not take responsibility for their actions I could have turned out like the monster abandoned and confused. The love of a parent and the lessons they teach you make all the difference in life.
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