What does it mean to be fully human? At a first glance, one may think that it only requires someone to be born a human. That assumption is only a portion of the truth. Humanity actually contains various traits that allow or prevent humans, and in some fictitious cases human-adjacents, from being considered ‘human.’ Various works of literature throughout history have delved into this topic, whether intentionally or not, which can make knowing what it takes to be human difficult work. There are, however, two well-known texts that simplify this topic into a few key traits. While they might seem to be very different kinds of books, both Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave demonstrate, through how the texts’ characters develop or fail to develop, the traits necessary to achieve humanity. This is accomplished through the development of the books’ main characters, Frankenstein’s monster and Frederick Douglass. These characters progress from birth in their texts and go through what every human would face developmentally. This allows us to see how each of them acquire and utilize the traits needed to achieve their humanity, and because each character takes a different path, the requirements for humanity are made clear.
The first, and most prominent, necessity that the texts depict is the knowledge that the characters obtain. Both Frederick Douglass and the monster naturally begin their lives with little knowledge, as does every human. The primary difference between these characters and other humans are their origins. Douglass is born a slave, and the monster is, well, a monster. While obviously very different, both books show in detail the process by which each character pursues knowledge. This establishes a ‘common’ starting point between these two characters, which allows us to analyze how the pursuit of knowledge propels their condition forward towards humanity.
The monster is constantly learning throughout the events of Frankenstein. Despite being born something other than a human, the monster’s earliest moments are very much like that of a human. The monster’s life begins with an overwhelming amount of the senses as light, sound, and feeling, all unknown stimuli, that berate his person (Shelley 93). The monster eventually adjusts to physical feelings associated with life. He becomes able to walk, and begins to discover his surroundings. This is a parallel to what most every human infant will experience, but this is not where the monster’s acquisition of knowledge ends. Later in the text, the monster finds books and shelter near a family. By spending a large amount of time in this condition, the monster eventually learns to read. Further viewing of how the family interacts with one another allows the monster to understand basic and complex human emotions (Shelley 119-120). The knowledge the monster obtains is what allows him to understand how humans interact and live. This knowledge permits the monster to imitate human actions and tendencies, which propels him into a human-like mindset. Furthermore, that the monster is even able to reach the same intellectual ability as any other human, and perhaps surpass most humans, seems to indicate that he, in fact, possesses this vital trait of humanity. The ability of the monster to reach this state of intellectual ability and emotional maturity pushes him ever closer to achieving humanity.
Frederick Douglass goes through a similar process of learning that the monster does. Douglass, who was of course born a human, and would therefore seem to possess the same privileges and capacity for knowledge as every other person, also begins life at a distinct disadvantage. Being born a slave meant that Douglass was almost exclusively seen as less than human, or brutish, which is in many ways no different from how the monster is perceived in Frankenstein (Douglass 63). Douglass was forbidden from learning most any form of reading and writing. Douglass learned to read through various books, newspapers, and other excerpts he came across in secret (Douglass 40). Douglass would also learn to write. This, in combination with his ability to read, and his innate understanding of emotions as a born human, would help to shatter some of his ‘shackles’ as a slave and a ‘brute.’ His ability to understand these basic human demonstrations of knowledge can show that Douglass is no different from any other human. In addition, Douglass’ possession of this knowledge allowed him to understand just what his condition as a slave was. He became acutely aware of the injustices of the system, and knew that no person should be subjected to something so dehumanizing. Douglass’ newfound perception allowed him to make steps in freeing himself and establishing himself as equally human as any other being.
The ability to acquire knowledge is not the only trait necessary to prove someone’s humanity. This is because knowledge comes at a cost. Both Douglass and the monster, while having improved significantly from their acquisition of knowledge, also suffered to almost detrimental levels. The most obvious case of this lies in Frankenstein’s monster’s realization of his place in life. After gaining significant enough knowledge of the world and of human emotion and interaction, the monster began to realize how disconnected he was from other humans: “I found myself similar, yet at the same time strangely unlike the beings concerning whom I read, and to whose conversation I was a listener” (Shelley 120). This realization, in combination with his discovery of his physical self, which he recognizes as “hideous,” leads him to question his existence and his purpose in life: “what did this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my destination?” (Shelley 120). These questions, in turn, led him to become miserable and to detest himself and his creator (Shelley 122). The monster even goes so far as to wish death upon himself as the only means of escape from his condition, wondering why he doesn’t “extinguish the spark of existence which [his creator] had so wantonly bestowed” (Shelley 128). All of the struggles the monster faces internally are due to his acquisition of knowledge. Gaining the ability to think on such a deep level allowed the monster to live in his head, not only in fear of how humans may have perceived him, but also as a way to mull over his condition. The monster longed for an escape to his wretched state, and he would soon realize what it is that he was missing.
Douglass, again, experienced a similar situation to that of the monster. As mentioned earlier, Douglass’ newfound knowledge would lead him to have an intense understanding of his life as a slave. This understanding would lead Douglass to a similarly miserable state to the monster. Douglass understood how repulsive and sickening his situation was, claiming that “It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy…” for him to lean on (Douglass 42). Douglass entered a state of despair and hopelessness, as he feared he would never be able to achieve the prospects of human life outside of slavery that he had learned of. He, very similarly to the monster, wished his condition to be reverted. Douglass writes that “In moments of agony, I envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what to get rid of thinking” (Douglass 42). He even went so far as to wish for his own death over remaining in such a helpless state (Douglass 42). Douglass and the monster, while having obtained a key element to proving their humanity, still had not achieved all the necessary traits to do so.
One missing trait, the one that serves to balance out the miserable condition that knowledge provides, is human connection. Both Douglass and the monster, while having begun their lives in less than human conditions, have obtained the knowledge necessary to achieve humanity. However, the human connection aspect of humanity is where the two begin to diverge on their path towards such a status. Frankenstein’s monster, who had the luxury of being free and able to observe how a real family would interact, was able to clearly identify his lack of human connection (or any connection for that matter). The monster would make many attempts to achieve such a connection, but all of them would fail. His first failure occurred when the De Lacey family, the family he had observed for many months, was frightened by his presence in their home (Shelley 126-127). After this denial of a valuable connection, the monster became wretched and vengeful. In that moment, when those the monster believed to be his most vital connections denied him, the monster lost his humanity. He would become violent beyond what his original nature would have had him become, and this would lead to the destruction of properties and human lives. Despite this shift, the monster would still recognize his need for a meaningful connection. But once that connection, a female of his same make, was denied of him, the monster became exactly what he had been viewed as his entire life: a monster. The monster’s words, “but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you…” signify his descent into savagery (Shelley 162-163). In the months and years following this moment, the monster does nothing but terrorize the man and his family who made the monster so wretched in the first place. And while this development could seem justified, it still does not erase the gravity of what the monster has become, as he has no connections, and destroys such connections in his creator’s life.
The case of Frankenstein’s monster differs substantially from Douglass’, as Douglass has quite a few more human connections throughout his lifetime than does the monster. Douglass, similarly to the monster, had no significant connections to either his father or his mother at birth. Douglass writes that he has no real knowledge of who his father was (though he’s aware of rumors that his father was his own master), and while he knew his mother, because they were separated at birth, they had no significant relationship: Douglass writes that he “received the tidings of her death with much the same emotions [he] should have probably felt at the death of a stranger” (Douglass 16). Neither had a true place in Douglass’ life. This surely would have set Douglass on a path similar to Frankenstein’s monster, but Douglass had many more opportunities for connection. The first of these, and a more minor instance of this, was his caretaker when he was a child. She did not play a large role in his life beyond his learning of basic human actions, but she nonetheless was an early connection in his life. Another, and more major instance of human connections in Douglass’ life are his masters when he lived in Baltimore, Mr. and Mrs. Auld. These two, while masters of him, and not as benevolent as one would wish, still provided him with a valuable human connection. Mrs. Auld originally taught Douglass how to read, which would go on to be perhaps the most important factor in his humanity and eventual escape from slavery. While seemingly a good influence in his life, Mrs. Auld’s character would transform under the harsh influence of slavery. She was once “a woman of the kindest heart…”, but would eventually change, and her “angelic face gave place to that of a demon” (Douglass 36). Adding to this, Mr. Auld frequently, in later years, cared for Douglass’ safety and allowed him to find his own jobs. This small amount of safety prevented Douglass from what could have been a harmful death at the hands of white apprentices he was working with (Douglass 80). Mr. Auld, however, would also, by being his master, prevent Douglass’ development into a fully human person. These connections, while not the most caring and genuine, gave Douglass the ‘pushes’ he needed to achieve freedom and stay alive.
Douglass also had connections outside of his masters. These connections were much more genuine than those of his masters, and they are what truly tethered him to humanity. Douglass frequently talked highly of his fellow slaves and the connections he made with them. One such instance is when he spoke of the slaves he would once try to escape with: “They were noble souls; they not only possessed loving hearts, but brave ones. We were linked and interlinked with each other. I loved them with a love stronger than any thing I have experienced since. It is sometimes said that we slaves do not love and confide in each other. In answer to this assertion, I can say, I never loved any or confided in any people more than my fellow-slaves” (Douglass 70). It can clearly be seen here how deep of a fondness and devotion Douglass can show. He not only possesses vital human connections, such as ones that keep his mind grounded and his body healthy, he also possesses the ability to be that connection to other humans. His fellow slaves, his future wife and children, and a whole manner of abolitionists and friends he would obtain in his life can attest to this development.
Humanity has two main factors that determine its presence in a being: the capacity for knowledge and at least one prevalent and meaningful human connection. The complex and tragic character called Frankenstein’s monster, and the gritty and inspiring actions of Frederick Douglass go above and beyond in portraying such traits that humanity requires. Both of these characters, along with the respective texts that depict them, highlight the cases of both achieving and losing humanity through obtaining knowledge and the presence of a human connection. So what does it mean to be fully human? Ultimately, that answer is subjective, but the effects that knowledge and connections have on humanity cannot and should not be left out of consideration.
Works Cited
Douglass, Frederick, et al. The Portable Frederick Douglass. Penguin, 2016.
Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein: The 1818 Text. Penguin 2018