Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Framing Frankenstein Part 2: Frames and Focalization

Focalization is, in its simplest sense, a matter of whose perspective the information is coming from. As a concept it was introduced by French literary critic Gerard Genette, in his book Narrative Discourse, as a replacement for saying first, second, or third person narrator. It is a useful term because it suggests that narrators can be read and understood beyond their use of pronouns.

I bring this up in this discussion of Frankenstein and frame narration because focalization helps us to stop and really think about where the information is coming from, not just who is saying it or their relationship to the events being described: each framed narrative cannot be properly read without considering its relationship to its frame, or, how each level is focalized.

Take, for example, fellow horror fiction Dracula. Dracula is an epistolary novel: collections of letters, diary, and journal entries recreated (presumably) faithfully. Within the context of Dracula these narratives were gathered from many sources and lined up in a logical form. In doing so, each piece is put on the same level, in tandem with one another: it's not a matter of how Jonathan Harker met Van Helsing who told Harker about his pupil, Dr. Seward, who told about his experiences with his zoophagous patient Renfield, but how each character relates their own personal experiences. The epistolary nature of such a story even adds to its immediacy: each character presents relevant information as, or shortly after, it was being experienced. Mina Harker and Dr. Seward do not amend their diaries to reflect what they would learn later. This keeps the information up to date and each voice presented in the narrative is unmediated by any others. When Jonathan Harker speaks, it is focalized through Harker and no one else. 

It would be a grave mistake to call Frankenstein’s layered narration “Unmediated”.

It may be easy to see both as a collection of related stories, but it is not that simple. Where Dracula features different narrators taking turns to tell their own narratives, Frankenstein is about Captain Walton telling the story of Victor Frankenstein, which includes his own narrative about how the monster told his own narrative, which even includes telling the story of the French family, which itself includes the Turkish merchant's story. Dracula is many snippets cobbled together to tell one story. Frankenstein is one story telling other stories.

And just as there are framed narratives, there are also framed narrators. Victor and the monster both assume the role of narrator at their respective moments, with the novel funneling down into and up out of its narrative construction. It's just all the information has come through different narrators, who we trust to relate everything the others have said. And Walton's letters, his doubt his sister will even receive them, mixed with Frankenstein's deathbed confession, serves to frame the story to remove doubt: to make this fantastic tale seem realistic and plausible. But this raises a serious issue with narrative reliability, and we must ask ourselves, to what extent can Walton, Victor Frankenstein, and the monster be trusted? After all, Walton could have altered either Victor or the monster's narrative, and Victor could have altered the monster's. Layers of narration create the facade of reliability, but do more to complicate it. More on that next time.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Framing Frankenstein Part 1: Understanding Frame Narration

I was in college the first time I read Mary Shelley's horror story, Frankenstein. Admittedly, the only image I had of the monster was Boris Karloff’s from Universal Studio's horror hay-day, so I was surprised when the monster turned out swift, nimble, and eloquent. It was an enjoying read, but the horror elements weren't what would stick with me. Instead, it was how the work strove to appear reliable and believable. I realized this a few months later while tutoring at a high school, a student came in with a copy of Frankenstein. I picked it up with excitement (a healthy balance to her sighs) and started discussing frame narration.

Frame Narration is an interesting narrative choice because it embeds one narrative within another, it isn’t so much like a picture in a frame, but more like a painting of a painter painting a painting. We see not just the one painting, but all of them, and take all of them into consideration. So, back to narratives we have to understand each narrative within the context of the situation it’s being told, and each frame impacts the way we read the storied being framed and the frames themselves, making it possible to give a piece several different readings based on how these narratives are read and compared. Frame narratives require a different kind of reading because it forces you to think about what the two narratives have to do with one another, in terms of themes, symbols, and even the contexts in which the narratives are themselves framed.

Frame narration is kind of like gossip: one person gained information they want to pass on, but part of passing on that information is describing where that information came from. For example, you found out that a friend just got a new job and you want to tell someone else about it (or even explaining to the person who got the job how you know about it), but rather than just say “Rick got a new job teaching Driver's ed,” You say, “I was having lunch with Laura when a driver's ed car drove by and she wondered if Rick was the instructor. I said 'Rick doesn't teach Driver's ed, and Laura said, 'He does now. He just interviewed for the position. He's going to quit his night job.''”

In the first example, there is a single narrative, with Rick as the protagonist and the focus being his new job. The second involves telling a narrative about having lunch and an event triggering the other narrative. This is a simple formulation, but it's still framing the narratives.

Shelley's Frankenstein goes considerably deeper than this.

It opens with the sailor writing letters to his sister: we get a glimpse of who he is, his motivations and interests, and then, one day, a man is discovered on the ice: Victor Frankenstein. Once Frankenstein is well, he begins to impart his tale to Captain Walton, who is in turn, transcribing it. It is a tale of modern and arcane science and how his studies and a death in his family led him to try reanimating dead tissue. From these experiments, the monster is born and turned loose on the world, who then has his chance to tell his story to Victor Frankenstein, halfway through the book, which includes the tale of the disenfranchised French aristocratic family, all of which is then embedded within Victor Frankenstein's narrative. Once the monster's narration concludes, Frankenstein himself returns to his tale of science and tragedy, before the sailor becomes the primary narrator again, and because he began the narrative, he is able to end it.

This creates an interesting set of questions: Why have the sailor? Why even use these deep levels of first person narration? There are “found manuscript” narratives like The Scarlet Letter, Robinson Crusoe, or Don Quixote, and other frame narratives where the top narrative is the most important, like One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, but Frankenstein doesn't work like these, but this framing device does influence the narrative in primarily two ways: first, it actually establishes a sense of reliability, and second, it develops significant themes, but in order to understand how it does these things, it helps to know just what is going on in a frame narrative.