As a therapist, I naturally find myself contemplating the human experience as a general past-time, and coupled with my love of literature, I often turn to authors, whose books I have loved all my life, for solace in times of need.
One person who stands out as an incredible example of navigating these challenges is Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein and a woman whose personal life was as dramatic and fraught with grief as any of her fictional characters. Her story is not just about the birth of an iconic novel but also about the profound emotional and psychological burdens she carried throughout her life.
Mary Shelley’s life - filled with passion, heartache, and the devastating loss of loved ones - offers deep insights into how we navigate the delicate intersection of love and grief.
Born in 1797, Mary Shelley was no stranger to loss from an early age. She was the daughter of feminist philosopher Mary Wollstonecraft, and the political theorist William Godwin, but tragically her mother died just days after her birth.
Growing up without a mother, Mary’s early experiences were marked by an emotional void. This loss would set the tone for her own personal relationships in the future, especially her ability to love and the way she experienced grief.
As a therapist, I recognise how early loss can shape the way someone engages with their own sense of attachment and love, and in Mary’s case, it was certainly a theme that would follow her throughout her life.
Mary’s relationship with Percy Bysshe Shelley, one of the most renowned poets of the Romantic period, would be the love story that defined much of her adult life. She first met Percy when she was just 16, and despite their age difference (he was ten years older) and his already being married, they quickly became inseparable.
Their relationship was intense, passionate, and, at times, scandalous. Mary was a married woman, after all, when she became involved with Percy, and the affair caused quite a stir. But for Mary, Percy represented not only romantic love but also intellectual kinship.
Together, they explored philosophy, politics, and literature, and their bond was not just that of lovers but of equals, each inspiring the other creatively.
Their love story, however, was not without its heartache.
Shortly after their marriage in 1816, Mary and Percy faced numerous tragedies.
In 1815, they suffered the death of their first child, a daughter named Clara, and then, a year later, their second child, William, passed away at the age of three.
But the end of Mary's sorrow was not over when, in 1822, Percy drowned in a boating accident.
She was just 24 years old and left to navigate the rest of her life without the man she had loved deeply and with whom she had shared so much of her identity.
Mary was, undoubtedly devastated by Percy’s death, and she spent years mourning his loss. In the throes of her grief, she was left not only with the weight of her sorrow but also with the responsibility of raising their only surviving child, Percy. The emotional and psychological strain of this loss is something I believe many can relate to – the idea that grief doesn’t simply end with the passing of a loved one, but instead transforms and evolves over time, as we must continue to face life.
What strikes me as particularly poignant in Mary’s experience of grief is how she channeled her pain into her writing. Her masterpiece, Frankenstein, is an exploration of grief and loss itself. The novel’s central themes of creation, abandonment, and the consequences of loss reflect her own personal battles with these emotions.
Victor Frankenstein creates a life only to abandon it, perhaps echoing Mary’s own feelings of loss and abandonment, from the countless emotional voids that she experienced throughout her life.
Writing became a form of survival for Mary, a way of making sense of her grief and preserving the memory of those she had lost. After Percy’s death, Mary continued to write prolifically, but it was clear that her experiences with loss would always be a part of her work.
She lived the rest of her life in relative solitude and never remarried.
While she had several close friendships, there is a sense that Mary remained emotionally tethered to Percy in a way that influenced all her subsequent interactions.
Mary's life demonstrates that it’s possible to create something meaningful, even in the midst of profound pain.
Her grief did not define her as a person; instead, it became a driving force behind her creative genius. And that is perhaps the most poignant lesson that we can take from her story – that grief, whilst deeply painful, is also part of what makes us human and causes of transformation.
It can be both a burden and a wellspring of creativity, insight, and strength.
In the end, Mary Shelley’s life was one of resilience.
She survived the loss of immense grief, found ways to keep moving forward, and left behind a legacy that continues to inspire.
As someone who has worked with grief for many years, I find solace in her ability to channel her pain into something that would outlive her.
Like her, we too can keep going, writing our own stories, even when it feels impossible to continue.