The Modern Prometheus’ Archaic Flame: A Look at the Men who Inspired Victor Frankenstein

    Early on into Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the titular Victor Frankenstein gives us a trio of philosophers he claims to have been inspired by. What sets these three influences apart is that they weren’t contemporary scientists, but rather three alchemists (one medieval and two from the renaissance era): Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, and Albertus Magnus (Shelley 17). What Victor fails to tell us, however, is what specifically these alchemists said or did that inspired him. Victor talks about the great chimeras of old science, but never points out how any one of these three specifically inspired him. In this blog, we’ll be taking a look at these three inspirations of Victor Frankenstein and trying to find just what it was they wrote or did that may have ignited his passion for science (and perhaps what influenced Mary Shelley to include them as Victor’s inspirations in the first place).

Figure 1: A 17th Century Woodcut Portrait of Cornelius Agrippa

    First, we’ll be turning our focus to the first alchemist Victor mentions by name in the novel: Cornelius Agrippa. Agrippa is where Victor most likely found the wondrous chimeras he strives after. His most famous text is De occulta philosophia libri tres, commonly translated to “Three Books on Occult Philosophy”. The three-book work focuses on the study of magic, and discusses topics such as the creation of magical life-extending rings (Agrippa 141-142), the nature of “love medicines” (Agrippa 138), the practice of divination (Agrippa 158), and the ability to raise the dead (Agrippa 180). All of these ideas are grand, miraculous, and impossible, the kind of ideas that fascinated a young Victor in the book (Shelley 17). However, past these visions, Victor and Cornelius differ quite greatly in philosophy. While in Frankenstein we see Victor use contemporary means of practicing science as a means of bringing about the chimeras of alchemy, Agrippa eventually denounced the practice of science altogether in his work Of the Vanitie and Uncertantie of the Arts and Sciences (Britannica Editors). Even so, the seeds of Agrippa’s chimeras were sown in Victor's mind; they were simply to be tended to by other alchemists.

Figure 2: A Fresco of Albertus Magnus by Tommaso da Modena

    The second of Victor’s mentioned alchemical muses was Albertus Magnus. While trying to find philosophical similarities between the two turned up nothing, one aspect of Magnus’ life still pertains to Victor’s: whereas Cornelius Agrippa only wrote about the heights of alchemy, Albertus Magnus was said to have actually reached those heights. Legends claim that Magnus was the one who finally discovered the legendary Philosopher’s Stone (Franklyn et al. 10). Granted, the claim is shaky even if you ignore the nonexistence of the Philosopher’s Stone, considering that Magnus himself, despite being an ardent believer in the transmutation of metals, never actually wrote about discovering the Stone. This is actually a pretty common theme throughout the supposed works of Albertus Magnus. Many works are attributed to him, but it’s highly doubted that he actually wrote all of those works (Franklyn et al. 10). Perhaps a contrast between Albertus’ passive reception of false responsibility for many texts and Victor’s passive allowance of false responsibility to be given to Justine for William’s murder was intended by Mary Shelley, but I think that deviates a bit too much from the focus of this blog.

The last alchemist we’ll be discussing is Paracelsus. I saved Paracelsus for last because it seems to be from him that Victor got some of roots of his own personal philosophy. Chief among their philosophical commonalities are a distaste for the academic standards of their time and a seeking of knowledge greater than that found in books and university lectures. According to a paper on Paracelsus' life published in Toxicology Reports

Figure 3: A Portrait of Paracelsus by Quinten Massys

, Paracelsus was a prominent critic of the practices of his colleagues. He burned the works of Galen and Avicenna, two philosophers whose teachings were core to standard medical practices at the time, disputed the idea of a panacea, and claimed that “supreme knowledge,” was found not in universities, but through the observation and study of nature (Michaleas et al. 413). We can see in Victor Frankenstein a similar contempt for the work done by his university professors. When recounting his time at university to Walton, Victor says “I had a contempt for the uses of modern natural philosophy.” (Shelley 21). He complains of the limited scope of contemporary science, how it seemingly sought to undermine the works that inspired his passion for science, and describes participating in modern science as trading “chimeras of boundless grandeur for realities of little worth.” (Shelley 21). In both Paracelsus and Victor lies a contempt not just for the practices of their contemporaries, but a contempt for the very foundation of their work. Just as Paracelsus wished to do away with concepts like the panacea in favor of his tailor-made cures for diseases (Michaleas et al. 413), Victor wishes to rid himself of the limited boundaries of contemporary science so that he may focus on grander ambitions. Speaking of grander ambitions, much as Victor wished to return to the boundless chimeras abandoned by the universities, Paracelsus too sought knowledge beyond the level of university education. In the introduction to his book Paracelsus: Essential Readings, Nicholas Goodrick-Clarke writes “Paracelsus sought a universal knowledge, a knowledge that was not to be found in the books or the faculties.” (Goodrick-Clarke 15). While Paracelsus’ search for universal knowledge led him to a down-to-earth study of medicine rather than a goal to create new life, both men wished to attain knowledge beyond their places of learning. Another commonality between Paracelsus and Victor Frankenstein is the nigh-obsession they had with their work. Much as Victor forgot to write to his family for six years during his studies (Shelley 32), Paracelsus threw himself so deeply into his work that he only learned of his father’s death four years after the fact (Michaleas et al. 413). With the above in mind, it seems to be from Paracelsus that Victor drew his sense of rebellion against his contemporaries and his obsessive pursuit of higher knowledge.

Works Cited

Agrippa, Heinrich Cornelius. Three Books of Occult Philosophy or Magic. Chicago, Hahn & Whitehead, 1898. Internet Archive, https://archive.org/details/cu31924028928236/page/n7/mode/2up. Accessed 29 March 2026.

Britannica Editors. “Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim | Occultist, Magician, Philosopher.” Britannica, 14 February 2026, https://www.britannica.com/biography/Heinrich-Cornelius-Agrippa-von-Nettesheim. Accessed 29 March 2026.

Franklyn, Julian, et al. A Survey of the Occult. London, Arthur Barker Limited, 1935. The International Association for the Preservation of Spiritualist and Occult Periodicals, http://iapsop.com/ssoc/1935__franklyn___a_survey_of_the_occult.pdf. Accessed 29 March 2026.

Goodrick-Clarke, Nicholas. Paracelsus: Essential Readings. Kent, Mackays of Catham, 1990. archive.org, https://archive.org/details/goodrick-clarke-nicholas-paracelsus-essential-readings-compress/page/3/mode/2up?q=universal. Accessed 23 March 2026.

Massys, Quinten. Paracelsus. Oil Portrait. Accessed from britannica.com. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Paracelsus

Michaleas, Spyros N., et al. “Theophrastus Bombastus Von Hohenheim (Paracelsus) (1493–1541): The eminent physician and pioneer of toxicology.” Toxicology Reports, vol. 8, 2021, pp. 411-414. ScienceDirect, https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2214750021000299. Accessed 3 March 2026.

Modena, Tommaso da. Saint Albertus Magnus. 1352. S.D. Cason Catholic Gallery, https://sdcason.com/saint-albertus-magnus-a-fresco-by-tommaso-da-modena-1352-church-of-san-nicolo-treviso-italy-public-domain-catholic-painting/.

Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Dover Thrift Edition ed., New York, Dover Publications, Inc., 1994.

Unknown Artist. Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa Woodcut. 17th Century. National Portrait Gallery. London.