Victor Frankenstein’s monster stands before the fellow traveller, towering above them.
Read more: Stillness and Solace“I am an unfortunate and deserted creature, I look around and I have no relation or friend upon earth. These amiable people to whom I go have never seen me and know little of me. I am full of fears, for if I fail there, I am an outcast in the world for ever” (Shelley). The monster does not look at his new acquaintance when he speaks; his eyes remain on the looming glaciers around them, glowing in the moonlight. His words, which linger heavily in the chilled air like their warm breath, are met with silence. The traveller peers at the figure next to them: “flesh torn apart and sewn together again in a shape other than that in which (he) was born” (Stryker). Each carefully selected piece of skin and bone fits together to form a uniquely beautiful, abstract puzzle. They had only just met, and yet, each stitch woven into the bodies of the traveller and the creature was spooled from the same thread- a rope of pain caused from society’s purposeful ostracism.
Finally, the traveller interrupts the comfortable, contemplative stillness.
“Like (you), I am too often perceived as less than fully human due to the means of my embodiment; …my exclusion from human community fuels a deep and abiding rage that I, like (you), direct against the conditions in which I must struggle to exist” (Stryker).
The monster did not have the chance to respond, and the traveller would never hear his response, both robbed of the conversation and solace.
Victor Frankenstein shot his creation- once in the head and once in the heart- leaving the traveller alone again.
Disability provokes a queer understanding of identity. Being queer in different environments–rural and urban–is like being a polar bear or a house cat, a bird or a lost lizard in a sewer. The criticism that Clare invokes when talking about these topics is also critical of race and ethnicity and of privilege and gender. Who was the first to claim land as an inexhaustible resource? Who dictates the gender and sexual norms? Who creates the urban space that perpetuates disability? Clare touches on all of these linked together identities and sites, and it feels so right. I learned so much from Clare’s writing, but I also picked up his sense of criticism; that calm, assertive, compassionate voice that questions why and kicks out with fervor. Clare’s criticism is beatifically formed and so god damn smart, but it’s not the only thing that keeps me in the book.
Unruly Bodies 
