INCEPTION IS FRANKENSTEIN. THIS IS THE REAL DEAL.

I know, you might think it's a stretch. You might even think it's crazy, but people, the connection is there! I was lollygagging the Lit assignment and watching Inception on Netflix--so, basically, I was watching Inception on Netflix--when that strange feeling of deja vu hit me. It was that uneasy twist in the stomach, a brain-flip, that nasty feeling when your heart is in your throat--I've heard of this story before. The story within a story, a recurring theme between all the characters, the implantation of an idea...little did I know that the answer to the strange sensation was lying askew, page forgotten, on the sofa.

Inception is Frankenstein.

The similarities between the two seemingly disparate stories are scarily accurate, with allusions and doubles of characters, plots, settings, you name it. Sure, you might have thought that Christopher Nolan was a genius director for making up a plot so brilliant, so dazzling, so fresh--but it's just like what that hotshot Thomas C. Foster said about stories, movies, paintings, art in general: it all stems from one story.

A whole story. 

And that, my friend, brings me to the point of this connection between Nolan and Shelley--or rather, the fact that Shelley came up with this beautifully complex idea first and Nolan borrowed it hundreds of years later.  Let's start with what Shelley was writing on about first. Of course, there are a variety of themes that play into the highly-acclaimed novel, Frankenstein, many of which do actually bleed into our society today and still cause controversy. The theme that I find most interesting, however, is the danger of technology and human advancement. What do I mean by that? 

Shelley introduces us with our first, but not main, character--Walton. He's an up-and-coming traveler and geographer, intent on finding a shortcut to the other side of the world by starting at a pretty ominous spot: Russia (this fact will be important later). Even from here we find the beginnings of a dangerous situation, right in the first sentence, when Walton exclaims in a letter to his sister, "You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings" (Shelley, 12). Um, hello? In addition to warning the reader that this Walton guy is heading into troubled waters (literally and figuratively), this pre-chapter also hints at the real main character's own problems when he decides it would be a good idea to create life out of inanimate objects. 

Who is this guy? None other than Victor Frankenstein, of course. And guess what? He has a doting sister that lives far away when he goes on his dangerous exploit, with only one method of contact: letters. Shelley succeeds, with the issuance of one single sentence, to create two layers in this book, which is more than I can say for other novels of this era. And then there's you, the reader. What if, at this very moment, while reading this book, I had just received a letter from a faraway cousin who was exploring the deep jungles of Africa, trying to find a magical herb that cures cancer? What are the chances that I, a caring and loving relative, would worry for his safety and return? The answer is pretty high, I love my cousin.

Ok, so the circumstances don't have to be that extreme. But even with risks in life that we, or others take, the story of Frankenstein becomes applicable. My cousin could risk his own life trying to find a cure for cancer, and even succeed--but where would that lead us? The advancement of technology in Shelley's imagination led to the ruin of all the Frankensteins by the very technology that Frankenstein created. If we cured cancer, what would happen? Happier families, sure, a safer planet, why not--but what about increased healthcare costs across the board? Overpopulation? Pollution? Margaret, Elizabeth, and I would all agree that these are pretty foreboding. With this in mind, Shelley doesn't create just two, but three layers if you count the reader. Mary Shelley is inception-ing you at least two times, to get her message across; sometimes human advancement is bad for us. It's like that horrible line in the fifth Harry Potter movie from the equally horrible Professor Umbridge: "Progress, for the sake of progress, must be inhibited!" Yeah, I shivered when I read that, too. 

So, the basic story that Victor has to live through is that he creates this monster of a human being in the hopes of bettering the human society, spends half of his life running away from it, queue the POV change to the monster for a bit to hear him lament, come back to Victor when he loses everything, and finally Victor hit up with Walton when he tries and fails to find and kill his creation in the desolate, icy waters of Russia. Now, from Victor's point of view, he definitely failed in his goal; he couldn't kill his monster, he dies of exhaustion, and our protagonist loses the battle. In reality, Shelley's the real winner, for her point comes across quite clear for both Victor and Walton: technology that's ahead of our time is dangerous and should be stopped, or at least hindered, until the right time comes. Victor died never knowing what actually happened afterwards, but the monster stated that he would end his own life in front of Watson, and Victor's sob story (and the angered crew-mates on the ship that were freezing to death) convinced him to turn around and end his journey. Advancement has stopped. 

Now let's look at Inception. The main character, Cobb, creates a type of technology that can enter dreams and, therefore, subconsciously implant ideas in your head. Good source of revenue for Cobb, except for a small problem--Cobb creates a monster within the system that threatens his life and the lives of his team whenever he enters inception. That monster is Mal, his deceased wife. Throughout the whole movie, they go deeper and deeper into a rich man's mind to make him change his dad's company and destroy it, but the deeper they go, the more havoc Mal causes. In other words, half of the movie involves Cobb running away from his ghost of a wife until the very last level, which is in--you guessed it--snowy, cold, desolate, Russia. It is here that two very critical things happen: Cobb successfully implants the idea of shutting down the company (to stop global monopoly), and he also seems to have shot and killed his monster wife. 

But did he?

In the final scene of the movie, Cobb's team members slowly move away from him, one by one, leaving him all alone at an airport. He comes back to America (which he was banished from for being wrongfully accused of killing his wife, who actually committed suicide) to see his smiling kids and they all seem to live happily ever after, except that the ending gives the audience the final, unanswerable question: is Cobb still in a dream? Is he alive, or is he still sleeping? This is such a strong parallel to Victor, who died not knowing what was ever going to happen to his creation (even though it did say it was gonna kill itself, it isn't elaborated in the book). In Inception, Mal believed that she had to kill herself to 'wake up', and when we watch the movie, we begin to wonder who really is in reality: Cobb or Mal? In a way, Cobb will never know if he did the right thing or not, because he doesn't even know if he's awake! In the end, if he is indeed is in a dream (which a majority of viewers seem to think so), then the single holder of inception is stuck in dreamspace forever. No one else will be able to use this technology for any reason, good or bad.

Advancement has stopped.

What is Inception then? Still a brilliant movie, of course. Beautiful scenery. Great effects. To add to that list: best representation of Frankenstein. Sorry I went over my word count...there had to be some way to get this out of my head.

SOURCE:
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, and Karen Karbiener. Frankenstein. New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 2003. Print.