Frankenstein, Projection, and the Catastrophe of Withheld Nurture: A Psychoanalytic Reflection

I recently watched Guillermo del Toro’s new, emotionally charged adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, and once again found myself deeply—almost overwhelmingly—moved by the plight of the creature. It isn’t simply the tragedy of the narrative that touches me, but the raw psychoanalytic truth woven through the monster’s journey—a truth I encounter daily and see echoed throughout society. I have always struggled with watching Frankenstein, feeling immense empathy for “the creature,” disliking how he is reduced to that label, and wishing for his relationships to change—for those around him, especially his creator, to meet him with kindness.

From a psychoanalytic perspective, Frankenstein’s creature is the archetype of the outcasted child. Brought into life, he is immediately and utterly rejected by his creator. The bond that should have nurtured him is instead severed at birth, mirroring the emotional abandonment that so many people experience in their earliest, most vulnerable years. Object relations theory teaches us that the infant’s psyche is shaped by the quality of early attachments. Deprived of “good enough” care, the child internalizes not security, but shame and longing.

Watching the creature’s desperate search for connection—his yearning for acceptance, his repeated, heartbreaking attempts to join the community—I saw the wounds of early neglect played out with agonizing clarity. Each rejection, each act of violence from others, deepens the creature’s rage and shame, until he becomes the very “monster” the world expects him to be. In psychoanalytic terms, his sense of self is fractured; he cannot integrate his longing for love with the hatred and fear he encounters, and so he is split, both in the eyes of others and within himself.

What struck me most, both as a viewer and a clinician, was the realization that Frankenstein is not simply a gothic horror—it is a mirror held up to society. We, too, create “monsters” when we withhold nurture; when we meet trauma and difference not with compassion, but with fear and punishment. How often do we, as communities, label and ostracize those who have suffered, rather than nurturing and nourishing them? How often do we, like Victor Frankenstein, recoil from the pain we have helped create—only to blame the wounded for their wounds?

When we repeat this pattern, it is not entertainment, but a societal catastrophe. Yet, as I have witnessed in my work, the cycle can be broken. When those who have been labelled, shamed, and abandoned are met with genuine understanding and consistent, loving presence, change becomes possible. I have seen the “monster” in others—and in myself—soften and transform, not through judgment, but through nurture.

What pains me is that this healing approach, so fundamental to psychoanalytic therapy, is rarely modelled or valued in our broader culture. Instead, we continue to project our fears onto the vulnerable, splitting the world into “good” and “bad,” “deserving” and “undeserving.” We fail to see that every so-called monster was once a child longing for acceptance, and that our collective failure to provide it perpetuates suffering.

Frankenstein is not just a cautionary tale about scientific hubris or the dangers of creation. It is a haunting allegory for the consequences of withheld love. As therapists, as members of our communities, as human beings, we are called to recognize the “monster” in the mirror—and, more importantly, the human beneath. Only then can we hope to heal ourselves and our societies, not by turning suffering into entertainment or turning away from the marginalized, but by modelling the nurture and presence we all desperately need.

From a psychoanalytic standpoint, Frankenstein’s creature stands as a powerful symbol of rejected humanity, the pain of abandonment, and the destructive consequences of unmet relational needs.

Psychoanalytic Interpretations of Frankenstein’s Creature

1.⁠ ⁠The Creature as the Outcasted Child (Object Relations)

Winnicott and Attachment: The creature is quite literally a newborn, thrust into the world without care, mirroring the anxieties and wounds of children who are denied “good enough” parenting. Victor Frankenstein immediately rejects his “child,” resulting in catastrophic developmental consequences.

Longing for Love: The creature’s desperate attempts to connect and his rage at rejection mirror the pain of those who experience early abandonment or neglect. This parallels patients who struggle with attachment injuries and seek reparative relationships.

2.⁠ ⁠Narcissistic Injury and the Monster

Kohut and Self Psychology: Victor creates the creature as a narcissistic extension of himself. His inability to tolerate the creature’s difference—his ugliness, his neediness—reflects a narcissistic injury, leading to the monster’s profound sense of shame and rage. The creature’s pain is that of the “unmirrored” self, whose needs for validation and acceptance are unmet.

3.⁠ ⁠The Double and the Return of the Repressed

Freud’s “Uncanny” (Das Unheimliche): The creature is Victor’s doppelgänger, embodying his repressed desires, guilt, and fears. The horror comes not just from the creature’s appearance, but from the recognition of something familiar—what Freud called the “uncanny.” The monster is the externalization of Victor’s own shadow, his forbidden impulses and traumas.

Projection and Disavowal: Victor projects all that is unwanted within himself onto the creature, whom he then persecutes and abandons.

4.⁠ ⁠The Creature’s Perspective: Trauma and Alienation

Early Trauma: The creature’s experience is a case study in developmental trauma—he is unloved, ostracized, and forced to survive in a hostile world. His initial kindness and longing for attachment are repeatedly met with violence and hatred, confirming his worst fears about himself and humanity.

Identity Formation: The creature’s painful journey is not just about surviving, but about forming an identity in the face of absolute rejection. His violence emerges only after repeated failed bids for connection, a tragic pattern familiar to therapists working with deeply wounded clients.