Frankenstein
Mary Shelley
It's all just one big terrible irony. Frankenstein created life! My God that should be something phenomenal and celebrated- but this creation is a "catastrophe". "How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavored to form?" (Shelly, 35). He spent two years and his passion and energy on collecting parts from various sources (slaughterhouses nonetheless) and created an actual live being. Especially when this novel was written, that notion was presumably huge (today we can duplicate cells in pitri dishes all the time). What's even more painful, is that those he loves are being killed. "...William and Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts" (Shelley, 60). Obviously his creature killed the two, and possibly he will murder more to come. It is terrible that all of his study and work came to such unfortunate circumstances.
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