Frankenstein and the Defeat of Death

A Quest for Eternal Life... or Eternal Misery?

by Bryce Morgan

After suffering the tragic loss of his mother (and suspecting that his cold, calculating father--a world-class doctor--did not do everything he could to save her), young Victor Frankenstein devotes himself to doing what no doctor or scientist before him could ever do: defeat death.

      Father? You let her die, did you not?

      I did everything in my power to save her. You must know that.

      So you failed.

      No one can conquer death.

      I will. I will conquer it. Everything you know, I will know. And more.

Thus, Frankenstein's twisted trajectory is set in the classic tale's latest iteration by Spanish filmmaker Guillermo del Toro (currently streaming on Netflix). Often considered the first 'science fiction' story, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (or the Modern Prometheus) was originally published anonymously in 1818 (to be clear, in this story the name "Frankenstein" only refers to the scientist, not the creature he creates). Del Toro's version of the story retains Shelley's emphasis on the danger of unchecked ambition, but is ultimately an exploration of mankind's attempt to defeating death, or instead, in a world filled with such suffering, to embrace death as a mercy. 

To defeat death, Victor Frankenstein (played by Oscar Isaacs) rejects any ethical restraint, forgoes healthy relationships, taunts authority, butchers corpses, and allies himself with an arms dealer in order to create new life. But when he succeeds in this ambitious venture, he is unsure about what to do next with this creature: "I never considered what would come after creation. And having reached the edge of the earth, there was no horizon left. The achievement felt unnatural. Void of meaning. And this troubled me so." When the creature does not progress intellectually according to his timeline, Victor sadly devolves into the same fatherly coldness and cruelty he experienced as a boy. He eventually reckons his stunning success to be an epic failure, concluding that he must now destroy the creature and abandon his ambitions.

But when the story is told from the creature's perspective, a new element is added. We learn that not only did Victor Frankenstein fail to destroy his macabre masterpiece, but amazingly, through some strange, regenerative principle, it's clear that the creature cannot die. Is this fact hailed as an achievement? Far from it. Reviled and rejected, it seems the creature is fated to wander the earth forever, shackled by the pain of his existence. The film ends with a quote that confirms this notion: “And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.” (Lord Byron)

Thus, in trying to overcome death, Frankenstein portrays the ultimate futility of such human ambitions. If this grandiose goal really were achievable, del Toro's film seems to argue that eternal life would be nothing more than eternal misery. 

Though Netflix's Frankenstein involves many important themes (e.g., fatherhood, technology, forgiveness), it's clear the idea of our mortality looms large. And yet, in spite of so much Christian imagery and talk of "playing God" in this film, the true Creator is oddly presented as ultimately irrelevant. Victor clearly acknowledges this divine Creator ("Conception, that spark, the animation of thought and soul. That is in God’s hands. God."), but questions his divine ability and/or intent ("Perhaps God is inept!"). Even Jesus is mentioned in passing by Frankenstein's creature, but the character's theological understanding is clearly limited: "Man has questions for God. Even God has questions. I think he wanted answers and that is why he sent us his son. Death probably intrigued him. Suffering."

What's important to clarify when thinking about this film is the fact that Victor Frankenstein was not wrong for wanting to defeat death. We should all desire death's demise. Frankenstein was not misguided because of this goal, but in believing he, a flawed creature himself, would secure such a victory. As Elizabeth (played by Mia Goth) tells the myopic scientist (a line also used in posters for the film): “Only monsters play god.” Interestingly, this is the very genesis of human death: men and women attempting to play God; that is, human beings foolishly believing they can and should stand in God's place, living me-centered lives in a decidedly God-centered universe. But God does not need a Victor Frankenstein to defeat death. That enemy has already been conquered.

Stunningly, the ultimate Creator did in fact use a creature to secure such a victory. Unlike the new 'Adam' portrayed in del Toro's film (a creature animated into life on a cruciform rack... and by power from the heavens), Jesus Christ, in real life, was emptied of life on a Roman cross. And he died this horrible death in order to (borrowing a deathbed line from the titular character) 'forgive us into existence'. But on the third day after his crucifixion, Jesus, filled with heavenly power of a different kind, returned to life as the true Victor. 

But what about us? Because all of us should be able to relate to Elizabeth's existential longing ("My place was never in this world. I sought and longed for something I could not quite name."), it's critical we understand that Jesus died to secure, not eternal misery, but eternal life; something rich and full and bright, and more than just unending existence. What Christ secured is a new creation in which...

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” 

By God's grace, every madman and monster, every mortal, can be assured of this new creation because of Jesus... including you and me.

Bryce Morgan is a husband and father, and the founder of Pop Eternal. He's also the creator of the Captain Sun adventures, as well as the author of "Confessions of a Secret Santa".