Our Fascination With ‘Frankenstein’:
It is, perhaps, the most famous origin story in literature, and it begins with blood-red snow falling from the sky. The year 1816 brought forth freakish weather set off by the explosion of a volcano in Indonesia. Blizzards battered New England in June. Rivers swelled and filled with the bodies of drowned animals. Crops failed, hay rotted, typhus raged. In Paris, the pamphleteers warned of the end of the world.
In Switzerland, near Lake Geneva, heavy summer rains forced a group of friends to huddle indoors at the Villa Diodati. To amuse themselves, they competed to see who could come up with the most terrifying tale. Their little circle had been named “the league of incest” by the British press, not entirely without reason. Among their ranks was “mad, bad” Lord Byron, who was said to have gotten a touch too close to a half sister. Also in residence: the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley and a young woman who was decidedly not the very pregnant Mrs. Shelley. This pale girl of 18 with a bright blaze of hair and a new baby in her arms (Percy’s) was Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin.
The Villa Diodati still stands, looking like a slice of wedding cake among the tall trees. It appears to bear no mark of its history, of the evening Mary reported a curious waking dream: “I saw — with shut eyes, but acute mental vision — I saw the pale student of unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half-vital motion.”
Out of that initial vision emerged “Frankenstein,” the tale of a young scientist intent upon discovering the secret of life. He collects body parts from the charnel houses, stitches them together and by mysterious means animates his creation. Mary filled 11 notebooks with a strong, slanted hand that races down the page, the words tipping so close to the line that they look driven by a strong wind. It is a book full of rain, full of the storms and electricity in the air — the theories of galvanism, the stirrings of the abolitionist movement — all of which its young author followed keenly.
“Frankenstein” is a book about the mystery of creation — but what accounts for its own, this strange and desolate work of the imagination? Mary herself addressed this question in the introduction to the 1831 edition; how did she, a teenage girl who never had a day of formal schooling, “dilate upon so very hideous an idea”? And what accounts for its longevity? Byron and Percy Shelley feel like relics, but Mary’s work is still read, recast, passionately debated. Reportedly the most assigned college text in the United States, “Frankenstein” has been hailed as revolutionary and reactionary, feminist and drearily misogynist. It is interpreted as thinly veiled autobiography, a warning against scientific hubris, a critique of the French Revolution. It has been described as a book about fathers and sons but also might be read as the keenest expression of a daughter’s longing for her mother.
This lengthy piece focuses on Guillermo del Toro’s latest film that reconsiders the Frankenstein story. Highly-recommended.
The Biology Of Seasonal Affective Disorder:
Although seasonal affective disorder (Sad) was only formally recognised by psychiatrists in the 1980s, the link between the seasons, mood and vitality has long been observed.
The Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Medicine – a Chinese text from roughly 300BC – described how the seasons affect all living things. It advised that in winter, one should “retire early and get up with the sunrise”, keeping “desires and mental activity quiet and subdued, as if keeping a happy secret”.
Today, scientists are rediscovering how closely tuned our biology is to the seasons. According to Dr Cathy Wyse, a chancellor’s research fellow at the University of Edinburgh, the biggest advance over the past decade “has been the realisation that seasonal changes in human mood are probably endogenous – that they’re part of our physiology”.
However, where to draw the line between normal winter sluggishness and clinical depression is not straightforward. Sad is recognised as a subtype of major depression or bipolar disorder, defined by its predictable seasonal pattern: symptoms typically begin in autumn or winter and lift in spring. Alongside typical signs of depression, people often sleep longer, feel lethargic and want to eat more, particularly carbohydrates.
The triggers of these changes are still being investigated, but they are almost certainly linked to reduced daylight. Light is the key regulator of our internal body or circadian clock, influencing the timing of hormone release, alertness and mood. Without sufficient daylight – especially when combined with too much artificial light in the evenings – these rhythms can drift out of sync with the external world.
I admit to suffering some seasonal depression. However, for me, I think it’s simply the ubiquity of the Christmas season, which I flat out despise. That’s what depresses me. Thanks, doctor, I just needed someone to listen.
One of the most valuable things you can do to support pollinators and other invertebrates is to provide them with the shelter they need to survive the winter. Thankfully, that’s pretty easy; all you need to do is do less yard work.
Leaves, brush piles, fallen logs, plant stems, and flower heads might not be growing anymore, but they aren’t trash — they are natural homes for wildlife! A layer of leaves is vital insulation from the cold for the many animals that hide within (or in the soil beneath), like quite a few butterflies. Others, like many native bees, nest within stems, flower heads, or pieces of wood. Throwing out all of your leaves and other plant material isn’t just taking away options for shelter; there’s a good chance you’re tossing out many animals that have already settled in!
That’s why this year and every year, we are making the case for leaving the leaves. That’s not to say you can’t do any tidying up. We have tips for thoughtful autumn cleanup that still leaves space for nature. You’ll also meet just a few of the many animals you’ll be saving. Read on!
Please do. I mean, less work, greater reward. What could possibly be wrong with that? Useful tips:
Leave the leaves, or move them just a bit
Avoid shredding leaves; let the bugs do that for you!
Turn those fallen branches and logs into a brush pile habitat
Leave the soil (and sleeping bees) undisturbed
Wait until spring is underway to trim stems and clean up
Leave the leaves and spread the word:
Your garden’s wild residents benefit immensely when you practice good neighbor relations, leaving things a little messy and wild. After all, when you think of what these animals need, it is best to visualize the natural areas where they have evolved. Natural areas are not manicured, sticks and leaves are not “cleaned up” and removed, grasses grow long, seed heads are left for songbirds to feed on, and seeds can fall where they might germinate.
Of course, this can be a hard pill to swallow! It may be habitual, a matter of social conditioning, or a holdover of outdated gardening practices from yesteryear—but for whatever reason, we just can’t seem to stop ourselves from wanting to tidy up the garden at the end of the season. Changing that starts with knowledge.
Light Pollution: As in, ‘the human-made alteration of outdoor light levels from those occurring naturally‘. Excellent article, including info on what you can do. These two concluding articles are all about ‘Think Globally, Act Locally’.
Little Walter? Floor’s yours:
