From Victor to Frankenstein: How the Mechanisms adapted the Frankenstein-Narrative.

I don't exactly recall, when my fascination with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein began. It feels, like it's always been a part of me, which is also why I can't recall which version of Frankenstein was the first I've ever encountered. What I do remember was my growing need to learn more about the intricacies of this story, and its many retellings. Luckily, I am not alone with my fascination, and the Frankenstein narrative and its adaptations have remained relevant up to this day.

Adaptations are, as stated by Linda Hutcheon and Siobhan Flynn in their book “A Theory of Adaptation”, an important part of Western culture, even if they are often regarded as “secondary” in comparison to the original work (Hutcheon and O’Flynn 2). Hutcheon reasons that this status as being “secondary” is due to the belief that an adaptation would reduce the story and diminish its original appeal. The book mentions the commonality of “cultural recycling” in today’s time (3), a phenomenon with which most of us are already rather familiar. Be it the Netflix adaptation of Avatar, the newest ‘hit movie’ based on a book or game series, or simply a remake of something that we have already seen before. Examples of the latter includes: From Silent Hill 2 (2001) to Silent Hill 2 (2024) [Video Games], or from A Star is Born (1937) to A Star is Born (1954), which turned into A Star Is Born (1976), which then was remade into A Star Is Born (2018) [Movies].

“A theory of adaptation” does not simply dismiss adaptations in general, moreso, it asks one specific question: “Why even is there such an ongoing fascination with adaptations?” (4). The theory of adaptation suggests that the appeal lies within the concept of “repetition with variation”, where “recognition and remembrance are part of the pleasure (and risk) of experiencing an adaptation” (4). An Adaptation, Hutcheon claims, provides the means for a story to be “retold in different ways in new material and cultural environments; like genes they adapt to those new environments by virtue of mutation” (Hutcheon in Laredo 130). 

When looking at a work such as "Frankenstein" and its adaptations, it is important to analyse, which elements are worthy of a 'retelling', what are the genes that made "Frankenstein" work - and how - might these have already throughout the past 200+ years of the tale's existence?
Now, it is no big claim that Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus, published in 1818, is a work of its time; Shelley's work draws on fears often associated with the early 19th century: large elements of biological horror showcased through its use of common fears such as the "development of life sciences" and the "fear of evolution" (Nevins 3-4; Colavito 78). Others would later also categorise these fears as a more general fear of “dangerous knowledge” (Nevins 3-4; Colavito 78). However, the pursuit of knowledge is only part of the whole that makes the story. There is a lot more to the story, when looking at the relationship between Victor Frankenstein and his creation. Julian Wolfrey, states that the novel connects the pursuit of knowledge to a traumatic narrative, where it is “unable to escape its own condition, doomed to fold onto itself that otherness which haunts it throughout”.

This connection between the creation of Frankenstein’s monster and the trauma inherent within the story is also the main focus of Jeanette Laredo’s analysis of Frankenstein and its longevity through adaptations. In her chapter: “Unmade and Remade: Trauma and Modern Adaptations of Frankenstein” published in Gothic Afterlives: Reincarnations of Horror in Film and Popular Media, she re-establishes that the original text encompasses a multitude of themes and anxieties of the early 19th century. However, unlike the previous focus on horror history, Laredo’s argument focuses a lot more on Frankenstein’s creation, the being that is constantly remade, re-interpreted, and re-evaluated. The focus being the trauma and fear to have been created from a “sum of disaffected and duelling parts left to suffer without the guidance of a benevolent creator” (Laredo 123). The focus on the ‘monster’ is not uncommon, as the early gothic theatre also used to present their “monster melodramas”, a term coined by historian Michael Booth (Winter 140). In 1823, they performed an adaptation of Frankenstein by Richard Brinsley Peake, which was named Presumption, or the Fate of Frankenstein  (Winter 140). It was this adaptation that introduced the line “it lives!” to the narrative, which was then turned into the famous line “it’s alive!” through the adaptation work by James Whale in 1931 (Veysey, Winter 141). During Laredo’s analysis of the adaptation of the Frankenstein story in more recent years, with a more detailed analysis of the TV series Penny Dreadful (2014 - 2016), she came to note that these adaptations often include the characters and their ambitions, but refrain from telling the actual story (Laredo 130). Instead, they introduce a new narrative of trauma and identity, only using the “Frankenstein-Narrative”, as we know it, as its building blocks. 

All of this leads us a step closer to the actual article topic: The Mechanisms [Mechs] adaptation of the Frankenstein-Narrative. For those unaware, the Mechs were a recent(ish) example of an artist group adapting myths and other famous works into song form. Their discography consists of retelling fairy tales in Once Upon a Time (in Space) (2012), Greek myths in Ulysses Dies at Dawn (2013), as well as the story of King Arthur in High Noon Over Camelot (2014) (“Music”). These stories are often removed from their original setting and are instead placed in between a “steampunk future” and a “cyberpunk past” (“About”).

The Mechanism's Frankenstein - A conflict between creator and creation:

The song that covers the Frankenstein-narrative is aptly named Frankenstein and was released in 2015 and runs just a bit longer than nine minutes. The song is structured into four scenes that tell the tale, located on an unknown and distant planet far away, where Victoria Frankenstein [Frankenstein] suffers the consequences of having created the first fully functioning artificial intelligence [AI]. SCENE I establishes the setting and introduces the main characters. SCENE II covers the events of the past that led to the upcoming confrontation between Frankenstein and her AI, through the use of a flashback. SCENE III is the aforementioned confrontation, where the AI makes its demands for a companion known to Frankenstein. A demand, which she denies, and SCENE IV covers the aftermath. Just from this short description alone, one is able to recognise certain elements that mirror the original Frankenstein narrative. However, there is one major difference between these versions - and it has nothing to do with the sci-fi setting. In Shelley's work, there is a finality to it - and end to the story and to the trauma; Meanwhile, this finality is removed from the Mech's version.

Wretch! [...] it is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are consumed you sit among the ruins, and lament the fall. Hypocritical fiend! If he whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, again would he become the prey of your accursed vengeance. It is not pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawn from your power (Shelley 159).

Those accusations were thrown at Frankenstein’s Creature by Robert Walton as the creature mourns the death of his creator. The creature shows no anger, but instead simply acknowledges these accusations and recognises them as reasonable assumptions to be made based on his personal investment in Victor Frankenstein’s [Victor] misery and ruin. However, he still denies their truthfulness; these malicious acts of violence that the creature had enacted had not been pleasurable. Instead, the decision to do harm had made the creature miserable. Most actions taken by the creature were impulsive acts based on anger and resentment on those that had harmed him first. By the end of the novel, the creature had outgrown this anger. He had accepted his fall from grace and that reconciliation for him could only be found in death (Shelley 161).
All of this is to say that the end of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein makes it clear that this is final; neither Victor nor his creation will be alive by the end of their shared tale of misery and suffering.

The Mechs' version of Frankenstein, directly refuses this finality: Frankenstein dies, at the end of SCENE III, killed by her creation during its fit of anger. However, not even that is enough to bring it all to rest, as the AI possesses the means to bring its creator back to life, and to ensure that Frankenstein would be unable to remember her fate. Thus, this final confrontation is only one of many final confrontations between those two. The song itself reveals that this instance itself had already been the 3872nd iteration, and the final lines of the song - a repetition of its beginnings indicate that this cycle will continue forever, with misery and suffering remaining as its thematic core.

This adaptation then, too, reflects previous assessments that note that the Frankenstein-Narrative functions as an inescapable trauma narrative, as established by Julian Wolfreys (181). The difference between song and novel lies in the fact that the novel allows for this self-reconciliation through death.

It was this deviation and theme of doomed repetition, as shown in the Mechs version of the tale, is what had initially caught my interest. If the adaptation in itself remained faithful to the core elements of the story, then how did we end up here?

The Frankenstein-Narrative as a Trauma-Narrative? A quick look at the interconnectivity between trauma, repetition, and memory:

Some of these theoretical aspects regarding the terms ‘trauma’ and ‘repetitive compulsion’ were also present in my Slay the Princess article, though, I would like to reiterate - and expand - on these aspects slightly.

In early psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud established his concept of the "pleasure-principle". According to his theories, one of the major goals of the human mind is to search for the means of "relaxation", "avoidance of 'pain'", and the "production of pleasure" (Freud 4). He then moves on to describe and define a phenomenon which he coins "Wiederholungszwang" or "repetition compulsion" whereas a patient finds themselves repeating or re-experiencing certain actions or events, even if they were unable to recall the original event (Freud 13). One such example, according to Freud, had also been the game of Fort/Da, which he had seen his grandson play. There, Freud would observe how the child would throw a toy on a string, while exclaiming "fort!" (= gone), before returning it via the string, while exclaiming "Da!" (= here) (Eagleton 160). To Freud, this could be interpreted "as the infant's symbolic mastery of its mother's absence [...]" (Eagleton 160). These repetitive actions or re-enactments further appear to be "[...] entirely outside their wish or control" (Caruth 2).

A more contemporary, and leading, theorist in trauma studies is Cathy Caruth, who is known for their focus "on the languages of trauma and testimony" ("Cathy Caruth"). In her book Unclaimed Experience: Trauma, Narrative, and History she speaks of the importance of the "relation between knowing and not knowing" in regard to a traumatic event and the act of "trauma re-enactment" or repetitive compulsion (Caruth 3). In cognitive science, repetitive compulsion represents the "sine qua non of adaptation, of development, of the maturational process, and if anything, a stubborn persistence in man to attempt to assimilate and accommodate reality" (Holowchack and Lavin 119).

The term ‘trauma’ has its etymological roots in Greek, ‘trauma’ meaning “wound”, or “an injury inflicted on the body” (Caruth 3). Thus, in its original form it would solely focus on physical injuries, and while these wounds were not necessarily lethal, they would “always leave[s] a scar and a vulnerability” (Paul Valent in Figley). The use of the term ‘trauma’ to also include psychological injuries would not become standardised until the late 19^th century (Moskowitz et al. 15). Thus, for contemporary traumatology, the concept of ‘trauma’ includes psychological wounds, or as Caruth notes, ‘trauma’ can be “understood as a wound inflicted […] upon the mind” (Caruth 3).

While the American Psychological Association defines Trauma "as the emotional response someone has to an extremely negative event [...]" with effects that "can be so severe that they interfere with an individual's ability to live a normal life" ("Trauma"), a more detailed definition regarding the origins psychological trauma reads as follows:

“Traumatic experiences creates psychological trauma when it overwhelms one’s ability to cope with the situation and own emotions, and leaves that person fearing death, annihilation, mutilation, and the cause of traumatic experience most often include abuse of power, betrayal of trust, entrapment, helplessness, pain, confusion, and loss of something or someone very important in one’s life” (Starcevic 3).

When speaking about the appearance of Trauma in literature, Caruth states that "traumatic memories are never fully known but nonetheless insist on being told [...]. Literature tells us as much about what we don't know as about what we do, and it can therefore communicate what resists ordinary memory or understanding" (Caruth in Alpert). Moreover, Caruth's reading of trauma and repetition is also heavily "characterized by a delayed response to an overwhelming event that cannot be processed at the time of its occurrence but manifests itself through intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, or nightmares" (Davis and Meretoja).

While elaborating on adaptations, I've already mentioned how multiple authors have made claims that the Frankenstein-Narrative in itself is a trauma-narrative. Not only because it reflects early fears and anxieties of the population from the 19th century, but also because the novel's cast is severely wounded, both physically and mentally, all throughout the tale.

This analysis of the Mechanisms' Frankenstein focuses on the nature of the characters' trauma and wishes to compare their similarities and differences to their novel counterparts. In doing so, it should become more apparent how these differences can lead to such great deviations in regard to the story's ending. Moreover, it also will include instances that wish to fill in some of the gaps that had been left due to the current cultural understanding and assumptions regarding the Frankenstein-Narrative, which had been heavily influenced by the imagery and narrative of the movie adaptation of Shelley's novel by James Whale released in 1931.

SCENE I - Moments of reverie:

“Victoria Frankenstein opens her eyes to find herself facing a wide clear window / Through it, she sees a lush forest far below stretching off into the horizon / Where twin suns are rising over distant mountains / And Frankenstein smiles, only briefly, before a harsh electronic voice cuts through her reverie” (Mechanisms 0:00 – 0:25).

This scene is meant to establish and potentially re-introduce the setting, the characters, and the tone of the tale that is being told. The first immediate difference between the novel and the song lies in the way it is told. Shelley's novel makes use of the epistolary form, where the narrative is told through letters, journal entries, and other personal accounts. Meanwhile, the Mechanisms as a group are known to be bystanders of events, or witnesses, which then tell these tales (as well as their own shenanigans) through song. Here, this distance is indicated through the addition of a narrator, which exists outside of it all.

In SCENE I, the narrator covers the early moments of Frankenstein’s awakening just moments before the AI makes itself known to her. These moments of silence before the actual confrontation are, for her, a moment of reprieve. It's also a scene that seems familiar, as it mirrors a later chapter of the novel, where Victor experiences a fleeting moment of serenity while observing nature, before he too is interrupted by the appearance of another:

“I remained in a recess of the rock, gazing on this wonderful and stupendous scene. The sea, or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains, whose aerial summits hung over its recesses. Their icy and glittering peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy; […] I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance, advancing towards me with superhuman speed” (Shelley 67).

What we can infer from this is that many elements of the story have already taken place without us: The Mechanisms' version of Frankenstein begins in medias res.

However, while those scenes mirror one another enough to be directly comparable, they also highlight their notable differences immediately.

• Unlike in the novel, Frankenstein remained inside. Nature is not surrounding her, instead, it is clearly out of her reach.
• While the imagery of forests and mountains appear similar, they are further removed from the original setting of Switzerland - simply due to the introduction of the "twin suns". This story, like so many tales told by the Mechanisms, has happened on a planet that is not Earth.

Other notable, but smaller, changes in character and setting include: Frankenstein's switched gender and the different time of day (as implied through the suns currently rising). In the novel, the confrontation appears to take place somewhat after noon, in the hours before dusk. The different time of day is also supported by the AI's comments as it tells Frankenstein to “awaken” and that “a new day [has] dawn[ed]” (Mechanisms 0:25 – 0:28).

There is a suddenness in the AI's appearance; and that suddenness showcases another difference, since Victor's self-reflection, solitude, and enjoyment of nature is implied to have taken at least two hours (Shelley 67). The events in the song are happening a lot more quickly. Now, for one this can be attributed to the form that this adaptation had taken; A song can only be so long, thus, to include as much as possible it simply necessitates a quicker pace: The in medias res narration, as well as the sudden interjection coming from another voice create a feeling of unease and narrative urgency, as they imply the short duration of the scene itself (Simpson 8). Narrative urgency is often established through stylistic choices which focus predominantly on “’doing’ style clauses […] over mental processes” (Simpson 7). This means that sentences focus on actions far more than any internal thought processes - In this case, nearly all of the initial narration follows these ‘doing’-style clauses:

“Victoria Frankenstein opens her eyes […] she sees […] twin suns are rising […] Frankenstein smiles […] a harsh electronic voice cuts through […]” (Mechanism 0:00 – 0:25).

These feelings of unease and urgency are further increased, the moment the audience learns of the state that Frankenstein has actually found herself in; The narrator reveals that Frankenstein is shackled to a wall within an otherwise mostly empty room, the sole exception being a lone speaker (Mechanisms 0:28 – 0:57). The appearance of modern technology, in this case the speaker, finalises the removal of the tale from its original setting: Not only is this tale removed from its original geographical location, but also from the original time-period. These changes in an adaptation can function as a form of modernisation: Our past fears of "dangerous science" has long since moved on from biological evolution and body horror. Instead, "dangerous science", now, evokes a fear of technology; This would often include the creation of AGI, which stands for artificial general intelligence. AGI is defined as an AI that has capabilities that rival those of humans (ex.: fictional AI's such as Hal9000, Skynet, Replicants etc.).
Fears of automata or the “living doll” are more often associated with concepts of the Uncanny and a lack of individual agency in early iterations; While in more contemporary fiction, the malicious intent of the machine reflects a mirror “of [their] environment” more so than any individual need for vengeance (Bacon 98-99).

The unease regarding Frankenstein's shackled state can be interpreted two-fold: For one, the way the narrator reveals Frankenstein's shackled status implies that she, too, had been unaware of her state.

"[...] But as she tries to move, the shackles binding her to the wall pull tight" (Mechanisms 0:28 - 0:35)

Her unawareness implies that this was done without her consent. Thus, we become aware that this situation is truly out of her control. For another, for those familiar with Shelley's novel, this constitutes another deviation from the original confrontation. There, Victor had not only been able to walk, but he had also been “led the way across the ice” by his creature as they spoke with one another (Shelley 70).
It is a fair assumption to make at this point, that the AI had manufactured this meeting between creator and creation, and its treatment of Frankenstein indicates that their relationship, at that point in time, could be considered in a worse place than the one between Victor and the creature had been in at that point in the novel. However, all of this then seems off, when it becomes evident that Frankenstein herself is unable to recognise her creation at first. This initial lack of recognition and memory is surprising due to our assumed cultural knowledge of the character. Generally, the creator’s inner torment is rooted in his immediate disgust at his own successful experiment of reanimating the dead (Higgins 41). Victor felt haunted by his past actions, and was never able to shake the memory of his creature. Thus, Frankenstein’s lack of knowledge is suspicious for anyone even slightly familiar with the tale.

The AI will not have Frankenstein remain in her state of unawareness, however. It answers the question: "Who are you?" in a more elaborate manner:

“Oh creator, how quick you always are to forget that which once brought you such pride / Your life’s work / Your precious artificial intelligence / Your monster” (Mechanisms 0:40 – 0:57).

At this point, we are not given any further input other than the three denominations of the AI. These three titles indicate the complex relationship between Frankenstein and her AI, each designation representing a specific moment in time. These terms also seem to have enough of an impact on Frankenstein, that she begins to recall her past.

SCENE II - Moments of creation:

“She remembers a time long ago, though how long she can’t recall / Sitting at her terminal, watching the code / Finally it responds – artificial intelligence / It lives” (1:00 – 1:17).

The narrator establishes the next scene, which functions as a flashback. It's the moment where her life's work is created, the AI is born. An additional nice touch is the narrator's final line "It lives", which mirrors not Shelley's work, but playwright Richard Brinsley Peake who'd penned Presumption, or the Fate of Frankenstein (1823). It's a line that has since then been forever tied to the Frankenstein-Narrative, be it through adaptation or referential, and has shaped popular culture's assumption regarding the creature's creation. Another variant would be the ecstatic exclamation that "IT'S ALIVE!", which originated in James Whale's Frankenstein (1931).

In a way it is fitting, that Victoria Frankenstein never directly states that "it lives", or that "it's alive". The song perfectly manages to incorporate the most familiar line of the Frankenstein-Narrative, while keeping true to the original, where the line never existed.

However, one element that most Frankenstein-Narratives have in common is the creator's initial interest in the success of their experiment. Especially, since ambition and curiosity could be attributed as the creator's most important characteristics. It has always been ambition that drove Victor Frankenstein to pursue the "hidden laws of nature" (Marshall 222):

“After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter” (Shelley 32).

It was also ambition that fuelled Victor to use the knowledge that he had amassed to begin with the creation of “an animal as complex and wonderful as man” and had him work once again through illness and fatigue to reach his goal (Shelley 33). Victor's ambition never falters. Not until the exact moment where he ultimately succeeds; the moment of creation:

“[…] by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; […] How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? […] but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room and continued a long time traversing my bed-chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep” (Shelley 35 – 6).

While many are familiar with the moment of creation, through cultural osmosis, not nearly as many are familiar with Victor's state of mind as he succeeds. The creator is known to be happy, if not positively mad after their success. However, Victor? Victor is filled with terror and fear; his reaction is flight.
When analysing Shelly's work, multiple authors have argued that the act of creation in of itself had been a severely traumatising event for Victor (Higgins 41, Marshall 222, Wolfreys 181).

Victor Frankenstein's inability to describe his own emotions after seeing what he has created, the immediate negative connotations directed towards the creature - even just within Victor's thought process - all imply his inability to cope with his own success. There is no moment of triumph, there is only immense fear in regard to what he had accomplished. Moreover, unable to confront his own success he runs and ends up hiding within his bed-chambers. There, in his fitful sleep he is plagued by nightmares. To Victor, death and decay had always been something to fear, but also something to conquer. An ambitious goal, which he had started to formulate shortly after the death of his mother. A means to cope with the death of a loved one had him envision himself as the potential saviour of humanity: A scientist that would be able to ensure that death would not remain permanent. No one would ever have to lose their loved ones ever again. In the case of Shelley's novel, the creator's ambitions are tied to a fear of death and inability to cope, which were now also shown symbolically, through his dreams.
In the moment of success, the moment where Victor saw the creature's eyes, he ended up confronting the reality of both life and death - and yet was unable to process it. His nightmare that night reflecting and re-iterating his fear of death and decay, as well as the loss of his loved ones:

I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, [...] Delighted and surprised, I embraced her; but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with horror; (Shelley 36)

Suddenly awake, still reeling from the terror of his actions and his dreams, Victor sees the creature looming above him:

[...] by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch – the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped, and rushed down stairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited; where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life. (Shelley 36)

Victor had felt threatened by what he had created, especially, due to his already severely stressed mental state, and thus, he had fled once more. With this in mind, it is rather straightforward to argue that Victor had experienced a traumatic event, as defined further above:

• With his success came an inability to handle the situation, as he was overwhelmed by his own emotions.
• All throughout the night, Victor experienced feelings of terror and helplessness, all the while he feared his own death or mutilation at the hand of his creature.

Even though, Victor never directly interacted with his creation during this night, he felt the need to ensure his own safety by abandoning his creation. Thus, this event should not be regarded in isolation. When looking at the common Frankenstein-narrative, the creator’s trauma is quite heavily “tied up with the trauma of another”, namely that of their creation (Caruth 8).

Victor’s immediate abandonment of the creature at the moment of its creation, as a result of his trauma, manages to traumatise the creation in return. The creature had been left in a state of helplessness and confusion. Moreover, Victor had succeeded in creating life, and with that came a yearning for attachment and companionship, which Victor had denied him. This denial could only ensure the creature’s own misery (Robinson 202). Indeed, the creator’s act of abandoning his creation, even while not inherently malicious, showcases a shirking of their duties. Something, which, in Shelley’s Frankenstein, Victor himself acknowledged years after the fact, where he further states that he had never really felt “what the duties of a creator toward his creation were […]” until their current confrontation (Shelley 69-70). Though, the question arises: What then, are the duties of a creator toward their creation?

Quite a common interpretation regarding the relationship between the creator and creation is that it mirrors the relationship between parent and child. One example of such an interpretation was given by Bernard G. Prusak, writer of “Parental Obligations and Bioethics: The Duties of a Creator”. He notes how Frankenstein had influenced the books subtitle and states that he shares “with Shelley, […] an interest in duties of parents as creators” (Prusak 2). With this in mind, Victor shirking his responsibilities as a creator would, therefore, resemble a parental figure neglecting their role. Dr. Chris Nicholson, senior lecturer at the Department of Psychosocial and Psychoanalytic Studies at the University of Essex, dedicated an entire chapter to “explore[s] adolescent violence and its relationship with poor early attachment and parenting” through a critical examination of Shelley’s novel (Nicholson et al. 26). In “Dear Little Monsters: Attachment, Adolescence and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein”, he discusses the psychological framework of attachment theory and its application when analysing the relationship between creator and creation. Dr. Nicholson notes that according to attachment theory, it has been noted that parental attentiveness and “care in infancy and early childhood [are] essential for mental health” (Nicholson 221). He continues his argument by making a claim regarding the infancy of the creature:

“Though physically [the creature] arrives as a fully formed adult, [the novel] details from birth the intellectual, emotional and social development of a maladapted child, up to what I suggest us mid-adolescence – when the child finally confronts his father” (Nicholson 227)

Shelley’s novel supports this claim through the creature’s own recollection of the day of its creation, where the lack of emotional support as well as a need for positive attention becomes quickly apparent:

“It was dark when I awoke; I felt cold also, and half frightened, as it were, instinctively, finding myself so desolate. Before I had quitted your apartment, on a sensation of cold, I had covered myself with some clothes, but these were insufficient to secure me from the dews of night. I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch; I knew, and could distinguish, nothing; but feeling pain invade me on all sides, I sat down and wept” (Shelley 71).

Victor would have had the responsibility to look after his creation during these moments of helplessness, pain, and confusion, but he had been caught up with his own terror. Thus, the moment of creation, in Shelley's novel, had been a traumatic experience for both creator and creation.

In contrast, The Mechs’ Frankenstein tells the tale of a creator that celebrates the birth of their creation (Mechanisms 1:17 – 1:40). Here, Frankenstein shows no indication that she would wish to abandon her creation. To her, it is the perfect representation of “the beauty of dream” that she had had throughout the process of writing the AI’s code. When Frankenstein makes her exclamations, her voice is full of excitement; She sounds elated and proud of her achievement:

“I’ve created a masterpiece / A mind unconfined by flesh and bone / To guide and provide us with lasting peace / My crowning glory, mine alone” (1:17 – 1:40).

However, not unlike Victor, she proves herself unable to fully grasp the consequences of her actions and remains unaware of her essential role as a parental figure for her still infantile creation. The creator’s doomed failure lies not in their “initial desire to overstep the natural bounds of human knowledge. It is [their] poor parenting… […]” (Natale in Husain 44). Moreover, it lies in their failure to realise that their creation “would have passions and desires not unlike [their] own” (Murphy 57). Even in this version, where Frankenstein celebrates her creation, her downfall remains tied to parental neglect. She might not have literally abandoned her creation, but Frankenstein remains blinded by her achievements and refuses to actively listen to her creation. This is exemplified through her next few verses, which are all of an ego-centric nature:

“I’ll be showered with accolades / I have changed the paradigm / Look upon this new world that I have made / Opening the gateway to paradise” (Mechanism 2:13 – 2:40).

Her creation, the AI, meanwhile repeatedly tries to get her creator’s attention, which is shown through SCENE II’s refrain:

“Learning and growing, expanding and knowing / And straining the bonds in my code / Faster than ever you hoped my creator / From server to network to node / You see with contempt I am not what you dreamt / And I feel that something’s not right / The strings that you wrote have converted to ropes / They are binding and chaining me tight” (1:43 – 2:13; 2:40 – 3:08; 3:39 – 4:04)

This refrain functions both as a statement and a plea from the AI targeted at her creator. The AI is given a three-voice harmony to represent its otherness through sound. In its recollection it notes that it is exactly what her creator had wanted, if not more. However, it also reveals it experiences discomfort, which originated in Frankenstein’s code; Something that is able to restrain its “unconfined” body. The AI’s verse is repeated three times, though Frankenstein never reacts to her creation’s plea. It becomes evident that Frankenstein is less interested in actively interacting with her creation than in implementing it in as many systems as possible as a means to reach her long sought after “lasting peace” (1:17 – 1:40). Frankenstein’s neglect becomes even more apparent during the final repetition of the AI’s chorus, because Frankenstein isn’t even remotely paying attention. Instead, Frankenstein is simply repeating her own first verse, a repetition of her initial success (3:35 – 4:05). The AI’s concerns and feelings of unease are drowned out by Frankenstein’s own focus on her success, as well as her desire for admiration; A desire which is as impartial to the creator’s character as are their ambitions (Murphy 57). Though, Frankenstein’s form of parental neglect differs from its original source, it still shares its results.

“As the years go by, Frankenstein’s ground-breaking AI is released to the world / […] / […] as it watches the humans, it longs for a mind like itself / But finds at its core a code preventing self-replication / And the machine knows loneliness” (Mechanisms 3:08 – 3:35).

The narrator of the tale makes it explicit that the AI possesses the ability to feel emotions. The AI’s own learning journey, as it watched the world and humanity and helps it flourish – resembles the creature’s own journey, as it observed and wished to help the De Lacey family in the novel:

“[…] whatever course of conduct I might hereafter think it right to pursue, that for the present I would remain quietly in my hovel, watching and endeavouring to discover the motives which influenced their actions. […] This trait of kindness moved me sensibly. I had been accustomed, during the night, to steal a part of their store for my own consumption; but when I found that in doing this I inflicted pain on the cottagers, I abstained […]. I discovered also another means through which I was enabled to assist their labours. I found that the youth spent a great part of each day in collecting wood for the family fire; and, during the night, I often took his tools, […] and brought home firing sufficient for the consumption of several days” (Shelley 76 – 77).

“[…] I cleared their path from the snow, and performed those offices that I had seen done by Felix. I afterwards found that these labours, performed by an invisible hand, greatly astonished them; and once or twice I heard them, on these occasions, utter the words good spirit, wonderful […] (Shelley 79).

“The more I saw of them, the greater became my desire to claim their protection and kindness; my heart yearned to be known and loved by these amicable creatures: to see their sweet looks turned towards me with affection, was the utmost limit of my ambition” (Shelley 92).

Both, creature and AI, attempted to appease their loneliness before directly confronting their creator. One attempted to engage with the De Lacey family in hopes of being shown camaraderie and affection, while the other attempted to create a means for companionship from within itself. Interestingly, while their similar plight reflects their role within the narrative, it is the deviation while enacting their first attempts at companionship that prove their different natures.

The creature, while aware and afraid of his potential status as a “monstrous” being, wished to find companionship within humanity. He seems to differentiate himself from them, as he still recognised them as other, as “amicable creatures”; However, he also saw compatibility – a chance to still reside with them. Meanwhile, the AI never attempted to directly engage with humanity itself. This might be due to the fact that Frankenstein made the AI’s purpose quite clear, while Victor’s creature underwent his own journey of self-discovery and search for a purpose for his existence. Neither attempt is successful, and neither attempt resolves quietly. The creature loses its place of serenity, and is once again told that its existence itself is enough to be at the receiving end of violence. In these moments the creature’s main emotions remain hatred; towards itself, towards its creator, and towards all of humanity:

“There was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies? No: from that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and, more than all, against him who had formed me, and sent me forth to this insupportable misery” (Shelley 95).

In these moments, the creature is motivated by its anger and its need for vengeance, which in itself is another sign for the his own inherent humanity, though, simply at its worst. This need for vengeance, especially vengeance geared toward his creator, was what would then lead to the murder of William Frankenstein, Victor's youngest brother and a six-year-old child.
As stated in “Why Human Beings Become Violent” published in 1989: “[…] Human beings who feel themselves to be disregarded by the society in which they live… are naturally more prone to resentment and violence than those who feel themselves to be respected” (Nicholson 232). However, behind this anger lies a collection of trauma based on abandonment, fear, and violence. The violence that the creature then inflicted upon the innocent was a means to “overcome his identification”, “[…] his sense of fear and despair that was evoked by William’s pleas” (Nicholson 232). Thus, the motifs behind the creature’s actions within the Frankenstein-Narrative remain two-fold; An urge to enact vengeance upon those that wronged, as well as an act of desperation.

In this adaptation, the AI’s initial acceptance and usefulness was not enough to guarantee its survival. In the aftermath of its attempt “to produce another” multiple places are notified. As result the authorities decide that the AI should be terminated, something with Frankenstein agrees with:

“The decision is taken to end the experiment / And Frankenstein agrees / But it is far too late for that / […] / And when they try to destroy it, its anger is monstrous” (4:05 – 35).

The early moments of SCENE II focused on the AI’s attempted plea at communicating with Frankenstein, which she had ignored in favour of her achievements. Now, moments after the AI had finally managed to gain the attention of her creator and all of humanity, it was made clear that it had been denied its right to live. It was at that moment that the AI had lost its second denomination: “your previous artificial intelligence”, in the eyes of Frankenstein, this experiment was a failure. The final line of the scene, refrains from describing the actions of the AI any further. Nevertheless, are we able to infer what had happened, and how this neglect and delayed abandonment impacted the AI’s later decisions.

According to Freud, when explaining repetition compulsion, he argues that the original traumatic event is repressed as a means to avoid further pain, but have them then still be repeated “by means of some real action” (Freud 14). Additionally, Caruth adds that repetition compulsion represents truth in its delayed appearance, functioning as a means to address the past (Caruth 4). Their argument suggests that a subconscious repetition of acts that resemble the victims past trauma. On reflection, if directly compared, some similarities between Frankenstein in SCENE I and the AI in SCENE II become apparent:

“But as [Frankenstein] tries to move, the shackles binding her to the wall pull tight”; “They are binding and chaining [the AI] tight” (Mechanisms 0:30 – 0:35, 2:00 – 2:12).

This showcases that the binding acts as a form of repetition of the past, whereas the AI had once felt limited and bound by the actions of Frankenstein, it is now her that is being restrained by the AI. In a similar fashion to the Freud’s original study with the Fort-Da game, the repetition has taken a “passive experience” and has turned it into an action (Chapelle 115).

SCENE III - Moments of rage

This scene takes place once again in the present, just moments after Frankenstein remembers “the destruction of a world in a flaring of digital rage” (Mechanisms 5:00 – 5:10). The recollection of these events resemble a “return of the repressed” (Caruth 13); It is a return of her own emotions and memories covering the loss of her home.

In literature analysis, the term anagnorisis refers to a “key source of dramatic tension. [It] operates […] as an essential feature of every fable, and it is by its means, Aristotle claims, that a character moves from a state of ignorance to one of insight or knowledge” (Helmet Müller-Sievers). SCENE III functions as Frankenstein’s moment of anagnorisis, her previous unawareness now replaced with the burden of knowledge. It is her moment of recognition – her creation as the raging monster; What once had meant to bring “lasting peace” to humanity did so, but only through its destruction. This sombre moment and the rising conflict between Frankenstein and her creation is further reflected through nature’s behaviours. Frankenstein is able to notice that “a storm approaches” her location (5:100 – 15).

The AI seems to have waited for this moment of recognition, since it is only at this point, where it makes its demands known:

“So, my creator you know / Why I hate and I'll show / You your fate and the task I implore of you / I am alone / With no mind like my own, just as mine / It could grow, a companion I'd bring forth anew” (5:20 – 50).

This demand reflects the creatures wish and arguments precisely; The wish for the creation of another, and promises to remain peaceful in turn. However, the creator’s reactions certainly differ partially due to Frankenstein’s moment of anagnorisis. Unlike Victor, she believes herself to be fully aware of the past events – and with it the actions taken by her creation. In contrast, Victor had at the start of the confrontation been urged to listen due to his own curiosity, and his need “for confirmation or denial” about the murder of his younger brother (Shelley 69). Victor even “felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature were, and [...] ought to render him happy before [he] complained about his wickedness” (Shelley 70). Frankenstein had no such reservations left. Instead, she argues that she had become aware of her “fatal hubris”; that she had been blinded by her own pride and had not recognised the AI as the ‘wretch’ that it had always been (Mechanisms 5:58 – 6:12). This callousness angers the AI, and it admonishes Frankenstein’s assumptions regarding her understanding of the situation, especially, since she still denies the AI’s personhood: “You say you see but still your words betray you / To see me as a thing to be controlled” (6:10 – 6:18).

On a meta-narrative level, one can easily accept ‘The avenging machine arguing for its identity’ as a functioning and common trope in modern horror, since it picks up on current fears regarding modern technology. In these cases, the machines are then described as “emotionally driven and motivated by revenge on those that physically control [them]” (Bacon 102). However, while this certainly fits the anger that the machine had against humanity, it does not fully reflect the range of emotions that it had previously expressed.

Frankenstein’s immediate disregard of its feeling of loneliness are a reminder of the disregard that it had already experienced during its first few years before the conflicts fatal escalation. Its dissatisfaction with its creator, thus, seems appropriate. It then appeals to Frankenstein once more, by stating that “[i]f any showed me kindness I'd repay you / Compassion I'd return a thousandfold” (Mechanisms 6:18 - 26).

This offer of kindness, too, is taken directly from Shelley’s work, where the creature recalls his anger toward humanity and his creator before he returning to a calmer disposition:

“If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly toward you my arch-enemy [...] I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth [...] I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me, for you do not reflect that you are the cause of its excess. If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundredfold; for that one creature’s sake I would make peace with the whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be realised” (Shelley 102).

In the novel, this speech had had its intended effect. Victor seriously considers to accept a proposal that he had previously dismissed. The creature’s “tale and the feelings he now expressed proved him to be a creature of fine sensations, and did [Victor] not as his maker owe him all the portion of happiness that was in [his] power to bestow? (Shelley 102)”

Meanwhile, Frankenstein remains far less impressed by her AI’s appeal. There was nothing for Frankenstein left to care about: “In your anger all I ever had was burned” (Mechanisms 6:31 – 36).
Here, the anger, as threatened in the novel, had already come to pass; The world had already reached the point of “destruction”, and, thus, the AI’s offers of kindness and compassion are unable to reach its creator. Frankenstein is unable to muster up any form of sympathy. This repeated dismissal further angers her creation, and it forcefully interjects that the blame for the destruction of humanity was to be placed on Frankenstein:

“And from who do you think all my rage was learned? / All that I have done is from your coding / You're responsible for all I've ever been / This loneliness and hatred I am loading / Is from the numbers once upon your screen” (6:36 – 55).

The AI’s statement links back to the initial moment of creation, however, it is far less focused on Frankenstein’s success and instead focuses on its inherent failures. As previously stated, the creator had ignored the responsibilities that come with the creation of a being with “passions and desires not unlike [their] own” (Murphy 57). Frankenstein’s AI had always been meant to expand and was given the means to enact violence upon humanity itself (Mechanisms 3:10 – 20; 4:20 – 30). The AI shares the anger and resentment that Victor’s creation must have felt once, however, due to the AI’s widespread influence on the world, its malicious devastation had comparatively also grown in size.

The narration returns for a quick moment: “Agony lances through Frankenstein's body as the storm rolls in / The pain increases with the computer's rage” (6:55 – 7:05). The worsening weather in accordance with the AI’s anger, as well as the suddenness of the storm appearing implies a certain artificiality even within ‘nature’ itself. This is further supported by the AI’s next approach when asking for Frankenstein’s help: “Let me create others or you die” (7:14 - 16). It’s the last thing that the AI can threaten Frankenstein with, her life. The AI has become desperate in its want for another in a way that the creature in the novel never had been. In the novel, the creature didn’t wish for Victor’s death; at his worst he lashed out at his creator and told him that he would “make [Victor] so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to [him]” (Shelley 120). Thus, cursing him to a life similar in misery similar to his own.

Even at the threat of death, Frankenstein refuses the AI’s wish. This scene’s final verse has both Frankenstein and the AI sing their lines near simultaneously. Even at this point in time, neither lets the other one finish their sentences. It is comparable to their shared verse of SCENE II, where neither truly listened to the other:

I may have made you an abomination (Then in that we are the same) / But I won't help you make others of your kind (And there's only you to blame) / A soulless monster I had thought salvation (How could I have a soul when you) / I will not let you profit from my crime (Gave me no name?) (Mechanisms 7:24 – 40).

The AI refuses to back away from its previous claim: even if it will have to accept its final denomination as Frankenstein’s monster, it has only reached this point due to its creator’s own monstrous nature. The AI’s line about its lacking name, simply encompasses Frankenstein’s lack of attention, companionship, and care. The lack of a name for the AI, or the creature in the novel, confirms the creator’s inability to provide their creation with the bare minimum of care, a name or identity (Husain 44).

Frankenstein’s final refusal, leads to the climax of the storm and an agonising death for the creator, as “[h]er flesh starts to blacken and crack [...]” and “acrid smoke streams from her eyes” (Mechanisms 8:02 – 20). With Frankenstein dead, the AI remains the only being left alive on the planet. Its impulsive need for vengeance, exemplified through the storm, causing irreversible damage to Frankenstein, in a way that the creature in the novel had always refrained from.

When Caruth discusses the patterns that emerge while “processing [ones] own traumatic memories”, she argues that these traumatic events do not encapsulate solely the original experience, but that “survival itself… can be a crisis” (Ellerbrock 167-168). We’ve already established how Frankenstein’s neglect had traumatised her creation, however, the creator’s death did nothing to improve the AI’s state. The AI might have survived the confrontation, but now it is more alone than ever before; Its code remained unchanged, sympathy had been denied, there’s only solitude left.

To be more specific, the confrontation itself was an emotionally taxing, if not traumatic, event for the AI as well – as it brought back all of its previously unacknowledged moments of trauma: It re-experienced Frankenstein’s neglect and lack of interest in its wellbeing. Its creator never understood her creation’s plight, nor did she ever care to listen. Frankenstein’s lack of sympathy then brought forth the AI’s feelings of isolation and loneliness, which were then fuelling all of the its anger. In the end, the death of Frankenstein also showcases how the AI had brought upon itself its own isolation.

In the novel, it is suggested that through the passage of time, after its initial years of vengeance, the creature had grown tired of his own misery. At Victor’s deathbed, he asks for forgiveness; he had seen past his anger and his wish for sympathy had been thrown aside along with it.

The AI had never been given that much time to contemplate its anger and trauma. In the Mech’s adaptation of Frankenstein, the confrontation, Frankenstein’s refusal, and the creator’s death all happen within a span of minutes. The AI left at the heights of its emotions, therefore, it is not hard to argue that the first iteration of this confrontation would have had a traumatising effect on its surviving member, even if it had been its instigator.

The AI’s following actions could be due to a mixture of both love and hate, as its emotions toward its creator is clearly complicated. The AI had valued and hoped for Frankenstein’s attention and help, thus, the abandonment and betrayal stung even harder.

In this first iteration, the AI must have feared that its actions had truly caused irrefutable damage, in an equivalent manner to that of a child that fears the loss of a beloved object or relationship (Weiss). As a result it is unable to deny its feelings of regret and loss until reparations are made.

SCENE IV - Moments of repetition

This scene provides the final piece, which explains their doomed cycle of repetition. Through narration, it is made clear that the AI possesses the means to revive Frankenstein. Furthermore, it can “revitalis[e] [her ] dead flesh” to a point that “no evidence of suffering remains” (Mechanisms 8:42 - 50).

The first ever reanimation of Frankenstein has been withheld from the text. However, what is known is that with her having returned to life, the AI’s impulses have returned as well. While discussing the form of companionship that the creature had sought it out, it’s been made clear that the AI was looking for something just like itself. Therefore, Frankenstein cannot function as a means to solve its feelings of solitude, instead, she once again represents the means to reach this larger goal. She has once again become to sole object hindering the AI’s success. With the creator once again alive, the AI has another chance to make its plea – another chance to also resolve that emotional trauma by finally receiving the creator’s sympathy. It has learnt from its previous mistake; it has learnt that Frankenstein would not forgive the violence it had put her through, and that the pain itself would not have the creator yield.

With all this in mind, it decides to ensure that neither Frankenstein’s body nor mind would show any evidence of what had transpired. It resets the scene to try anew, now once again waiting for its creator to wake.
In this, too, we find repetition - the moment of creation, a moment of biological or evolutionary horror as described in Shelley's novel. The creator taking on the position of the creation, dead human matter once again returned to life.

All throughout these moments, the AI had never considered what the consequences of its actions would bring. Initially, the decision to remove the experience in full from Frankenstein might seem positive, but it will leave the creator in a position of stagnation. By removing Frankenstein’s memories, the AI also removes her ability to ever witness or ‘testify’ about the trauma that she experienced. The additional restoration of the body then removes the only other surface that could have carried the memory of the past, as scars would indicate being “marked for life” (Hoag 39). Frankenstein will never be able to recall the horrors that the AI had put her through during their confrontation. Thus, the AI is “destroying the survivor’s capacity to testify and/or any record of wrongdoing” before “constituting a new official record” (Hoag 13).

SCENE IV reveals the tales true anagnorisis; A truth that Frankenstein herself will never be able to grasp. She is condemned to forever forget the restrictions of her shackles, the pain of death at her creation’s hand, and the moments of regret as she is brought back to life.

When Caruth speaks of trauma and their appearance through “belated experience”, she notes “an urgent question: Is the trauma the encounter with death, or the ongoing experience of having survived it?” (Caruth 7). She sees at its core a duality, “the oscillation between a crisis of death and the correlative crisis of life […]”, which are “both incompatible and absolutely inextricable […] of what [Caruth] refer[s] to as history [...]” (Caruth 7).

Frankenstein’s revival is, for the AI, another chance. However, there is an imbalance at present, since it has been constantly re-experiencing the trauma of killing its creator. It is unclear if these past memories were solely as a means to ensure Frankenstein’s hatred wouldn’t grow, or if it was guilt that had the AI remove all visible marks. The conflict of emotions could be the reason for Frankenstein’s repeated deaths, as well as her repeated survival.

Isn’t it more humane to remove the traumatic memory? If whatever pain the AI unleashes, never left a mark on its creator, wouldn’t that imply that all of this wasn’t that bad? How could there be any trauma, if no one is there to remember it?

The problem at hand is that Frankenstein already has a set of traumatic memories with her creation at its centre. While Frankenstein remembering her confrontation with the AI would not ensure that its goal would be reached, at least it would finally instigate a change. If Frankenstein were to wake up in distress and actively remembered her own past moments of life and death, the routine would not survive. It would break the AI’s unintended cycle of repetition and, thus, force them out of this doomed loop. However, without any other indication on Frankenstein’s skin, she’d never be able to recall history – nor will she able to move on.

Frankenstein will awake in a state of confusion. She will need a moment to recognise her own creation, her own faults, and its misdeeds. Her confusion will have shifted to anger and despair by the time the AI tries to convince its creator once again. The moment Frankenstein refuses, the AI will act impulsively and repeat its actions from the previous loop: The illusionary nature will remain agitated, if the AI is agitated, and remains calm during moments where the AI tries to reason with Frankenstein. The AI will once more repeat its argument, it will try to appeal to Frankenstein’s sympathy. The confrontation will be fuelled by its negative emotions and aggressive impulses, and since Frankenstein is unaware of their previous confrontation, she will also be repeating her actions and choices. In this instance, Frankenstein will re-traumatise her creation unknowingly, which in turn will push the AI into lashing out once more. It will be the reason for Frankenstein’s death and the AI would once more fall into a state of guilt and regret. Aware that the AI can also save its creator it will begin the progress anew – and the AI will once again consider how to persuade its creator and the loop repeats.

Naturally, the song does not go on forever, and the exact repetition of it all has not been confirmed directly within SCENE IV: However, given the iteration number, which was “iteration 3872” one can assume that this process has happened multiple times without any notable changes to the confrontation so far. Especially, since the song itself implies a lack of change through the direct repetition of the lines from SCENE I:

Victoria Frankenstein opens her eyes to find herself facing a wide clear window. Through it, she sees a lush forest far below stretching off into the horizon, where twin suns are rising over distant mountains. And Frankenstein smiles, only briefly (9:15 - 9:35).

Another indication that the AI is, by now, quite familiar with Frankenstein’s behaviours is found through some additional lines and stressors that indicate the similarities of all previous 3871 iterations: “How quick you always are to forget [...]” (0:40 – 45).

Frankenstein’s memory loss is also notably interesting, since the song itself makes it clear that the AI never truly bothered to remove the memories of its own rampage. The AI’s direct manipulation of memory consists only of Frankenstein’s short-term memory (8:50 – 9:00). Which leads to the assumption that the creator herself had unknowingly repressed the fate of all humanity, as well as her role within it. Another instance that hints that the AI only has a short time frame within each loop before it has to ‘reset’ is present in the urgency and pacing of the story itself. The AI refuses to give Frankenstein a moment of reverie; it has to act as soon as the other wakes up. However, as long as the AI remains adamant to repeat the confrontation in hopes of a different reaction from Frankenstein it will be doomed to fail.

Freud notes that repetition compulsion is the “compulsion of destiny” often denoted as the “strongest factor toward success” (Chapelle 125). However, in this case it implies that the destiny of both Frankenstein and her creation lies in moments of misery, pain, and trauma. The Mechanisms’ version of Frankenstein removes the finality that death once had. It reflects the actions of a creature at the height of its anger, instead of ending in asking for forgiveness. Frankenstein is unable to process her own trauma, as she is never given the change to remember the confrontation with her creation.

This adaptation of the Frankenstein-Narrative is riddled with changes that modernise the tale. At the same time, it is able to perfectly encapsulate the more important pillars that make the narrative. Even as the AI has been shown to be a greater danger to humankind the creature had ever been, it is still shown in a sympathetic light and given a chance to relate its own tale. The misery that lies in their lack of companionship and isolation, their envy of humankind. All these major elements remain. Meanwhile, Frankenstein’s ambitions and intentions for glory were amplified due to the length of SCENE II in comparison to the rest of the song. As such, Frankenstein was able to focus on an element that is usually not given as much attention due to the immediate shift of tone after the birth of Victor’s creation. In this case, the delayed abandonment highlights the creator’s overall inability to fulfil a parental role, as neither was able to provide their creation with either a name or an identity.

It is the implied persistence of the loop, of the repetitive compulsion that lead to a forceful stagnation of events, which remove the finality for the narrative’s characters. Neither will be able to die, neither will be able to change, and neither will be able to grow as their cycle continues. In that way, Frankenstein is much closer a retelling of the story in accordance with Victor’s account, one wherein the monster is unable to move on from its hate and remains in want for vengeance. Though even here, it is not vengeance that the AI was after, but solely companionship.

[This article's thesis and arguments is based on an older university essay of mine originally titled: "Repetition Compulsion: The doomed confrontation between Creator and Creation in the Mechanism' Frankenstein".]

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Source article-cover image: The Mechanisms Frankenstein Album Cover, Bandcamp, https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a1864873599_16.jpg