I now finish my take down of the 1931 James Whale version of Frankenstein by pointing to an artist who did a better job distilling the essence of the book: Mel Brooks. That’s right. Young Frankenstein is actually a better representation of the themes in Mary Shelley’s books than the 1931 “classic.”

As I explained earlier, I don’t believe the moral of the story is that the doctor should not have played God. The real moral is that the doctor should have been a kind, loving God, not a distant, hostile God who hated his creation. The 1931 movie tries to tell the whole “don’t play God” story and then screws it up by throwing in an abnormal brain.

Young Frankenstein, however, proves that the doctor’s great sin was not creation but abandonment by introducing a protagonist who succeeds where the original doctor failed. The doctor Frankenstein in this movie, being the grandson of the original doctor, finds his grandfather’s notes and realizes that it is possible to make such a creature. They even make the same mistake with the brain. This time, rather than abandoning the creature when he finds flawed, the doctor decides to try to civilize him. First, the doctor attempts to educate the monsters as he is, but that ends in disaster after a public exhibition gone wrong, leading the monster to go on the run. Even then, our protagonist does not abandon his creation, but instead resolves to correct what is going on in the creature’s brain. At the very climax of the movie, the doctor fixes the brain while pursued by villagers with torches and pitchforks. The creature magically becomes an articulate, gentle soul, who explains to the angry mob what has happened. Both the creature and the doctor get to marry their brides in the end, rather than mourn them, and the credits roll.

Imagine if the original doctor had done this. The creature in the book doesn’t even have a defective brain. He just looks ugly. With a little cosmetic surgery, the creature could have been a very eligible bachelor. Imagine the different outlook on life the monster might have had if the first book he had read wasn’t Paradise Lost but maybe some elementary primer he struggled through on the doctor’s knees. What if the doctor followed through on making him a bride? Would they have working genitals capable of producing offspring? If the doctor hadn’t been such an ass to his creation, he might have been able to get married and have two families in a way that didn’t involve adultery. Then the doctor would have a few other people to cry at his deathbed rather than the creature weeping alone near the roof of the world.

That’s the real moral of the story, and an important one for authors and artists of all stripes: you have to love your creation, even when it’s tough. I’ve heard that Robert Plant hates Stairway to Heaven so much, he once donated to a radio station that banned the song from their playlist. It’s so sad. I hope I never feel that way about one of my stories. It’s such a depressing way to view your own creation. I want the best for my creations, even if I find them flawed. Hell, that’s why I’d want to fix them. Thank you, Mel Brooks for showing us the way.

Editor’s note: Yes, we should correct our creations. I have to correct mine now as it has come to my attention I made in error in relating the plot of the book. Previously, I said that the doctor had no real reason to think the creature was anything but a nice guy the first time they spoke. I forgot that the creature admits to killing the doctor’s older brother in an act of revenge. Overall, I don’t think it really changes my larger point, as the doctor still erred by abandoning the creature in the first place. Thank God hardly anyone reads this blog, but if you do, thank you.