I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces, and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature.
He argues causation: misery births malice. Resentment is not mindless; it’s reasoned through experience of rejection. The questions flip the moral lens onto Victor and, by extension, society. Shelley pushes us to consider whether cruelty sometimes mimics what it receives. Anger here is a case brief, not a howl. It’s haunting because the logic lands—even if the outcome terrifies. Readers feel the sting of being denied the mercy they’re asked to give.