Switzerland was Paradise, perfect; even in its imperfections, dangers, I found perfection. The air was pure; the water was unbelievably refreshing; the scenery was sublime. I was spoiled in Switzerland in many ways. I knew that I had a family that loved me when I returned home (even though I avoided thinking of home as much as possible); the mountains, although beautiful to the point of breathlessness, could not love me back. This is something that crossed my mind upon looking over Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.
Frankenstein created a being in order to fill a void his mother's passing created within him; he wanted a creature, a relationship of reciprocated love. Instead of loving his creature, upon its first breath he loathed his creation. The creature eventually confronts his creator at Mont Blanc, the tallest and arguably the most beautiful mountain in Switzerland. This is where the monster shares his somber story of being completely rejected and further hated by all of humanity including the one person that could and should always love the creature, Frankenstein. Society's rejection of the creature is due to his hideous physical appearance. However, if one were to take the time to speak to the creature, one would realize how gentle, loving, and beautiful the creature truly is. Unfortunately the creature reveals that his only companion is isolation, the mountains. As the creature concludes the story of his oppression, he demands that Frankenstein create a companion for him, a being just as hideous and rejected by society so that he may have a mutually loving relationship with this being. Frankenstein agrees at first but when the project is almost completed he destroys the creature before it is given life. This demolition also destroys Frankenstein's creature's last chance at having the one this he has always wanted, reciprocated love. The creature then turns into a monster of destruction and death. Now death is his only companion, and together they wreak havoc on mankind, especially Frankenstein.
When we visited Mont Blanc I thought only of how beautiful it was and how wonderful it must be to experience the mountain; I thought "I could stay here forever." As a wise friend once told me, hindsight is 20/20. Now, looking back on the experience and the relevant literature, I realize that the mountains were different for me than they were for Frankenstein's creature because I have seen and felt reciprocated love and don't have that expectation for the mountain. One can always love the mountain, but the mountain will never love one back.
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