Beautiful. I'm a big fan of the original story, and love how you've transposed the questions asked (yes - more relevant than ever!) to our times. Also a big yes to the mushroom metaphor. Thank you! š
Thank you, Ann for this beautiful and thought-provoking poem and post. I love the connections you make between Maker and Made in these various contexts. The mushroom photo is perfect! Nature, our creations, ourselves? Staring back.
Glyn, the ongoing need to bring something alive is so natural. Youāre always showing us the opposite of Victor Frankensteināthe joyful Maker! I canāt wait to see what Scatterlings will bring. š My story is outlined. Now Iām doing some research as I fill in some tiny details.
This poem is stunning and chilling. I went back and read it three times, layers of insight and shiver with each pass. And the final question, āShould we love this monster of our making?ā
I hope so. Because even the monster is a reflection of us, maybe our shadow, but what better way to bring it into the light than to love?
Frankenstein is on my short list for possible future read-alouds. Maybe if we do read it, we will watch the film afterwards. It's interesting to me how very different the book is from the popular imagination of what Frankenstein means. Even to the way we think about the monster. And yet the story asks so many questions that are still relevant. Perhaps even more than Mary Shelly could ever have dreamed.
There is something so perverse in the failure to love the work of our own hands. We were made by a loving creator and yet we fail in imaging that Maker when our making goes awry.
āThere is something so perverse in the failure to love the work of our own hands. We were made by a loving creator and yet we fail in imaging that Maker when our making goes awry.ā
Melanie, youāre saying something so true. Whatās the nature of our constant human need to be reminded of our belongingābeloved as we are, have always been, and will always be?
I read that Maryās mother died in childbirth, and her father was grieving/distant during her childhood. She often felt like a burden to her family. Heartbreaking.
I've been up awhile reading all the wonderful Halloween poems that have already been posted. This is the first post I've come across about Frankenstein and I was thrilled to read it because there is something eerily familiar and disturbing about those monsters of our own making that always fascinate us. Thank you, Ann, for this.
Thank you, Martin, we find ourselves surrounded by monsters now, don't we? Some by our own making, yes--and I always hope to stay awake to that. To learn and do better. And for all the monsters unbidden in our world, it's hard not to live in fear of them. The theme of forgiveness shined in the movie for me. I'm interested to see--if or how-- it also appears in Mary Shelley's book. Wishing you a lovely All Hallows Eve! š
"How might our past, current, and future mistakes be incorporated into the fabric of daily forgiveness? Will we be able to foster a willingness to move forward in inovative and humane waysāalways imagining ourselves in a more generous, loving, and open lightābefore it is too late?"
There really are endless parallels and hubris plays a big role in all of them, that and ignorance of the lessons of history. Btw, I love Young Frankensteinā¦š
I can't wait to see this one myself. I've always loved Frankenstein. One thing here you mentioned:
"How might our past, current, and future mistakes be incorporated into the fabric of daily forgiveness? Will we be able to foster a willingness to move forward in inovative and humane waysāalways imagining ourselves in a more generous, loving, and open lightābefore itās too late?"
Yes, how indeed! I think what may help is to recalibrate the perspective our culture has insisted on: that we're rugged individuals, blazing our own trail. (Forgiveness is all the harder when we feel unconnected.) In reality, we're part of many layers of cycles: ecological, social, ancestral, spiritual, etc. We aren't separate, but part of many things that thrive or fall as we ourselves do. Not exactly a cure-all I realize, but I think remembering this can help.
"Forgiveness is all the harder when we feel unconnected."
.
Thanks, James. I think we're like minded on this. Everything good begins with our own sense of belonging and beloved-ness. It's a warmth and security we all crave from the moment of our birth when we find ourselves suddenly terrified, gasping and disconnected.
Re-finding our true belonging in the "ecological, social, ancestral, spiritual" web of existence is the work of a mature Life. Christianity is supposed to be teaching this, but sadly, we see so much emphasis placed on modeling "correctness" rather than truly loving one another. When I taught 4 year-olds at church, I feel like they understood this so much better than adults.
Iāll bet they did! Kids today are far more natural in their understanding of being present, noticing, feeling connections. We lose that, I think, when we focus more on multiplying by 10 and gerunds than we do about our connections. (Not that we can just throw the former away of course; itās a struggle to keep a good balance.)
Yes, so true. And even easier and more natural than we might have imagined. Just being awake to the idea of balanceāthe essential need for itāthat can feel calming for parents. When we decided to homeschool our kids, our first priority was to help foster their natural kindness and curiosity. I remember hoping that if they were also academically strong, that would be a bonus. But if I had failed to teach them kindness, then that would be a great sadness for me. A failure on my part. Now I see my kids as two of the kindest young adults I know. Also, they both did just fine in grad schoolā this was also a huge relief if Iām honest. homeschooling is not necessary, of course. Itās only one educational option among many. š
Wondrous poem and really great write-up and thoughts on the film, Ann, thank you. I have yet to see it but would like to. My first watching on del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth has a special place in my heart and I've enjoyed reading of his note-taking process and seeing snippets of his notebook via Jillian Hess' Substack.
Guillermo del Toroās new adaptation of Frankenstein has been out in cinemas here since mid October but not in the small towns close enough to consider so I wait, with impatience... I have heard so much in praise of this film.
Your poem is beautiful Ann, chilling also and profoundly thought provoking...
I loved this especially...
"Between Maker and Made,
In delicate distance, the question dwells
Of what is ours to save"
Late as I am to reading, I will save Halloween wishes for next year and send November hugs instead.. x
November hugs are so good. I wonder what it is about this month that makes it seem like the walls of this labyrinth are paper-thin? Is it the same something that makes a hug feel extra warm? Yours are especially so, and Iām very grateful for you, Susie xoxo
thank you LO!
Beautiful. I'm a big fan of the original story, and love how you've transposed the questions asked (yes - more relevant than ever!) to our times. Also a big yes to the mushroom metaphor. Thank you! š
Ronald, Iām so glad you enjoyed it. Such a timeless and tender tale, then and now. š
Thank you, Ann for this beautiful and thought-provoking poem and post. I love the connections you make between Maker and Made in these various contexts. The mushroom photo is perfect! Nature, our creations, ourselves? Staring back.
Glyn, the ongoing need to bring something alive is so natural. Youāre always showing us the opposite of Victor Frankensteināthe joyful Maker! I canāt wait to see what Scatterlings will bring. š My story is outlined. Now Iām doing some research as I fill in some tiny details.
Very exciting! š
This poem is stunning and chilling. I went back and read it three times, layers of insight and shiver with each pass. And the final question, āShould we love this monster of our making?ā
I hope so. Because even the monster is a reflection of us, maybe our shadow, but what better way to bring it into the light than to love?
I cannot wait to see Frankenstein!
Oh, I hope you do get to see the movie, Kimberly! Even if itās on a small screen, cozy at home, snuggling with David.
We love our monsters, donāt we? They teach us so much. How we make everything matters, and Iāve seen the way you pour so much love into your work.
Beautiful creations, for sure. š
Frankenstein is on my short list for possible future read-alouds. Maybe if we do read it, we will watch the film afterwards. It's interesting to me how very different the book is from the popular imagination of what Frankenstein means. Even to the way we think about the monster. And yet the story asks so many questions that are still relevant. Perhaps even more than Mary Shelly could ever have dreamed.
There is something so perverse in the failure to love the work of our own hands. We were made by a loving creator and yet we fail in imaging that Maker when our making goes awry.
āThere is something so perverse in the failure to love the work of our own hands. We were made by a loving creator and yet we fail in imaging that Maker when our making goes awry.ā
Melanie, youāre saying something so true. Whatās the nature of our constant human need to be reminded of our belongingābeloved as we are, have always been, and will always be?
I read that Maryās mother died in childbirth, and her father was grieving/distant during her childhood. She often felt like a burden to her family. Heartbreaking.
Lovely Ann!
Thanks so much, Shital! š
Blessed Halloween, Ann. I have Frankenstein on my watch-list for this weekend. Wishing you a cozy and magical Hallowtide. š¤
And to you as well, dear Liz! š
I've been up awhile reading all the wonderful Halloween poems that have already been posted. This is the first post I've come across about Frankenstein and I was thrilled to read it because there is something eerily familiar and disturbing about those monsters of our own making that always fascinate us. Thank you, Ann, for this.
"Between Maker and Made,
In delicate distance, the question dwells
Of what is ours to save
As world darkens and the music swells?
Should we love this monster of our making?
An eye looks up from forest floor, unblinking."
Thank you, Martin, we find ourselves surrounded by monsters now, don't we? Some by our own making, yes--and I always hope to stay awake to that. To learn and do better. And for all the monsters unbidden in our world, it's hard not to live in fear of them. The theme of forgiveness shined in the movie for me. I'm interested to see--if or how-- it also appears in Mary Shelley's book. Wishing you a lovely All Hallows Eve! š
If there is a tour of the White House today, nobody in it will have to dress up for Halloween. That's for sure!
The horror is real, sadly. š
Yes, thatās why weāre turning to Halloween and scary monsters for a bit of relief from it.
I definitely wonder about this, too:
"How might our past, current, and future mistakes be incorporated into the fabric of daily forgiveness? Will we be able to foster a willingness to move forward in inovative and humane waysāalways imagining ourselves in a more generous, loving, and open lightābefore it is too late?"
Very good Ann. I have often thought that Frankenstein was a love story of sorts, between a scientist and his ambition. Thanks
So true, Wes. There are so many parallels we might draw these days.
There really are endless parallels and hubris plays a big role in all of them, that and ignorance of the lessons of history. Btw, I love Young Frankensteinā¦š
Hilarious and classic. Young Frankenstein will live forever.
I can't wait to see this one myself. I've always loved Frankenstein. One thing here you mentioned:
"How might our past, current, and future mistakes be incorporated into the fabric of daily forgiveness? Will we be able to foster a willingness to move forward in inovative and humane waysāalways imagining ourselves in a more generous, loving, and open lightābefore itās too late?"
Yes, how indeed! I think what may help is to recalibrate the perspective our culture has insisted on: that we're rugged individuals, blazing our own trail. (Forgiveness is all the harder when we feel unconnected.) In reality, we're part of many layers of cycles: ecological, social, ancestral, spiritual, etc. We aren't separate, but part of many things that thrive or fall as we ourselves do. Not exactly a cure-all I realize, but I think remembering this can help.
"Forgiveness is all the harder when we feel unconnected."
.
Thanks, James. I think we're like minded on this. Everything good begins with our own sense of belonging and beloved-ness. It's a warmth and security we all crave from the moment of our birth when we find ourselves suddenly terrified, gasping and disconnected.
Re-finding our true belonging in the "ecological, social, ancestral, spiritual" web of existence is the work of a mature Life. Christianity is supposed to be teaching this, but sadly, we see so much emphasis placed on modeling "correctness" rather than truly loving one another. When I taught 4 year-olds at church, I feel like they understood this so much better than adults.
Iāll bet they did! Kids today are far more natural in their understanding of being present, noticing, feeling connections. We lose that, I think, when we focus more on multiplying by 10 and gerunds than we do about our connections. (Not that we can just throw the former away of course; itās a struggle to keep a good balance.)
Yes, so true. And even easier and more natural than we might have imagined. Just being awake to the idea of balanceāthe essential need for itāthat can feel calming for parents. When we decided to homeschool our kids, our first priority was to help foster their natural kindness and curiosity. I remember hoping that if they were also academically strong, that would be a bonus. But if I had failed to teach them kindness, then that would be a great sadness for me. A failure on my part. Now I see my kids as two of the kindest young adults I know. Also, they both did just fine in grad schoolā this was also a huge relief if Iām honest. homeschooling is not necessary, of course. Itās only one educational option among many. š
Wondrous poem and really great write-up and thoughts on the film, Ann, thank you. I have yet to see it but would like to. My first watching on del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth has a special place in my heart and I've enjoyed reading of his note-taking process and seeing snippets of his notebook via Jillian Hess' Substack.
Guillermo del Toroās new adaptation of Frankenstein has been out in cinemas here since mid October but not in the small towns close enough to consider so I wait, with impatience... I have heard so much in praise of this film.
Your poem is beautiful Ann, chilling also and profoundly thought provoking...
I loved this especially...
"Between Maker and Made,
In delicate distance, the question dwells
Of what is ours to save"
Late as I am to reading, I will save Halloween wishes for next year and send November hugs instead.. x
November hugs are so good. I wonder what it is about this month that makes it seem like the walls of this labyrinth are paper-thin? Is it the same something that makes a hug feel extra warm? Yours are especially so, and Iām very grateful for you, Susie xoxo