Introduction
Mary Shelley (1797-1851) was a British writer, novelist, essayist, playwright, biographer and editor, widely remembered as the author of Frankenstein, who lived in England and Italy. She was the daughter of two philosophers and her husband, Percy Shelley, was a renowned poet and philosopher. However, at a time when death was common from various infectious diseases, her life was marked by several tragedies: the dead of her mother, when she was born, at least three of her sons died, the suicide of her sister, the premature death of her husband, who passed away by drowning, and her decease by a brain tumor.
Her great literally success, Frankenstein, in principle attributed to her spouse, was published in 1818, and it is recognized as the first novel of science fiction (which refers to those fictional stories that present inventions that don´t exist when they were written or maybe are impossible to develop), considering that the monster of Frankenstein is a kind of human clone or a new intelligent living being, characterized by: a) having a superhuman strength, b) being able to learn very quickly, in little time, what humans take months or years to understand and mature, c) been created instead of born, d) not getting old, and e) maybe he can live forever. Then, is he a kind of artificial god?
Additionally, this novel of Frankenstein is sensational. It has a deep philosophical, social, religious and scientific background.
1. The philosophical background:
It anticipates the ideas of the philosopher John Rawls, who, in A Theory of Justice (1971), introduces his innovative concept of moral arbitrariness: if some persons are more intelligent and skillful than others, had a good childhood, come from families that gave them values and amenities, and/or obtained better job opportunities, this is due to "moral luck", and perhaps they did nothing to deserve these achievements. Or in another way, moral arbitrariness is a kind of "moral luck" that considerably influences the success of people (by genetics and/or environment). In this regard, despite the fact that before the laws all citizens are equal and should have the same rights (with exceptions, for example, in some cases, the rulers have immunity and certain privileges to fulfill their duties), basically, there are no equal conditions or opportunities for people, while governments seek to establish "equitable" justice for "unequal" citizens. This is the essence of the moral arbitrariness, being unfair that persons with different conditions may be treated equal before the laws.
Moreover, Mary Shelley and John Rawls evoke the problem of human suffering and the many injustices committed in this human word, even with the support of governments, institutions and laws. In short:
Why are there so many inequalities between people?
Why are there successful evildoers, while just or innocents suffer or are not successful?
Also the novel of Frankenstein was written in the 19th century, when women were marginalized and even poor people and slaves lived in traumatic conditions. Therefore, the author denounces that there are more human rights, in some European countries (like Switzerland), for suffering people or those considered of inferior social classes, while the traditional societies of other nations of Europe don´t follow these examples. In the same way, she criticizes that women in Arab countries don´t have the same rights that those of the Western world.
And the monster of Frankenstein represents a suffering person: he has no biological fathers, neither a family, could not study nor work. He is despised, by almost every human being due to his strange and ugly appearance and is treated badly by people: he wasn´t appreciated by his creator, beaten by a population and by cottagers who he admired, loved, respected and helped a lot, and was shot after rescuing a girl.
Likewise, many injustices are cited in the novel of Frankenstein. For example: first, due to the murder of Victor Frankenstein's young brother, a cousin is condemned to death for this crime without hard evidence, second, a Turk was sentenced to death in France solely for his religious convictions, third, an old blind man and his family are exiled from France to Germany, being their properties and money confiscated because their son helped the Turk to escape from jail, fourth, the Turk did not comply with the deal made to the son (his release would be rewarded with the marriage to his daughter), and fifth, Victor Frankenstein was detained three months, accused of killing his best friend, while the witnesses weren´t reliable, and at the time of murder, he wasn´t in the scene of crime.
2. The social background:
Unlike animals, the human beings evolved: from being primitive towards creating and developing modern societies. Therefore, throughout the centuries, the human race has improved, obtaining better living conditions and reaching high levels of well-being, wealth and technological advance (in spite of inequalities, poverty, injustices, violence, wars and a great number of related problems).
Masterfully, Mary Shelly explains a process of improvement of humans, from satisfying biological needs to more sophisticated ones, applying this to the monster of Frankenstein, after he escaped from his master.
In the woods, he eats, learns how to make fire and is grateful for at least having food and shelter. Later, he spies a family of cottagers (who are those condemned for the escape of the Turk), envisioning in few months, what humans would understand and mature in too much time (again, his intelligence is exceptional!). He learned to speak, write and read, and obtained too much knowledge about humankind (history, politics, geography, laws, philosophy, religions, social classes, biology, etc.).
In principle, he could not understand why that family, having food and shelter, was so unhappy. Afterwards, he realized that they were living in poverty, affected by the way they were punished by the society, and understood their main needs and problems, also complaining about his terrible situation:
Why was he created so ugly?
Why is he treated worse than Adam or Lucifer (even they had companions and rights)?
Why is he unable to integrate or be accepted by the human race?
Why cannot he relate with others, be appreciated and loved by them?
Of course, these needs (typical of human beings and translated to the monster of Frankenstein) were rightly explained by the psychologist Abraham Maslow, in A Theory of Human Motivation (1943). In this way, these are the main human needs:
a) physiological: food, rest, sleep, breathing, reproduction, etc.,
b) safety: employment, possessions, resources, etc.,
c) belongingness: affection, friendship, group membership, etc.,
d) esteem: trust, success, respect, etc.,
e) self-actualization: creativity, success, innovation, problem solving, etc.
Sadly, the monster of Frankenstein has met some of his biological needs, but being a cognitive living being, he has other complex needs that he cannot satisfy without the support of humankind: he hasn´t an employment, neither a business nor opportunities of winning money (safety), he is alone and no person (neither its creator) wants to relate with him (belongingness), he is not successful neither respected (esteem), and he cannot fulfill great objectives in his life (self-actualization).
He desperately tries to ingratiate and gain acceptance from humans, but receives harm for doing good (beaten by a population and by cottagers who he helped and was shot after rescuing a girl). Next, he realized that he cannot be among human beings and the only way to fulfill his main needs (including the missing physiological) is to have a woman of his kind.
Although, at first, the monster of Frankenstein wasn´t evil, but being treated so bad by humans, this criminal an evildoer was born. His missing love is replaced by a great hatred and resentment against human beings, including his wicked creator. For this, he looks for revenge against humankind: he burns the house of the cottagers and kills relatives and the best friend of Victor Frankenstein.
It is relevant to note that the human needs are insatiable (there is no point of maximum satisfaction), when covering a need, others appear, and so on. Additionally, according to the philosopher and historian Rene Girard, the human beings are "mimetic" (imitators), and for this, they want everything from winners, including: fame, power, prestige, etc; which lead to envy, rivalry, power struggles, violence and resentment.
In this regard, the creator of the monster of Frankenstein, being a rich man, outstanding student and researcher, and candidate to be a doctor, isn´t satisfied with his life, and wants to discover the secrets of existence and create life from inanimate matter. Maybe his next step was to convert himself into a "Frankenstein" or immortal being.
While the monster of Frankenstein has too much of human nature and after analyzing the cottagers and way of living of human beings, desires everything that humans have: from a family to reaching an inconceivable success in society, counting with wishes that never end and mimetic attitudes of expecting what others have. Nonetheless, the incapacity to fulfill these aspirations, along with envy towards human beings and the mistreatment received from them, arouse the anger and resentment of the monster, who is transformed into humankind's worst enemy.
3. The religious background:
Although the religious beliefs of Mary Shelley aren´t fully known, in her literary works, she criticized religions because these have determined and established the main rules of societies and human behavior, which include: dogmas, laws, types of governments and structures of social classes.
Therefore, she was convinced that human beings can develop morality without religions and perhaps these aren´t necessary, being in opposition with tenets of monotheistic religions (which state that principles and moral values come from conscience and this from God), but denying some ideas of atheism. Also, it seems that she was fond of ideas of spiritual and scientific enlightenment, instead of accepting traditional Christianity foundations. In this regard, it can be concluded that she was agnostic, who maybe, like Albert Einstein, was seeking for another approach: a universal/cosmic and inclusive religion.
Other aspect that she denounces is that the human being, unsatisfied with fulfilling its insatiable needs (mainly that of self-actualization, considering Abraham Maslow's approach) tries to be as God: wants to defy the death and be immortal, which includes improving its abilities and having inconceivable powers. For these reasons, the monster of Frankenstein is a reflection of this reality: with greater strength and intelligence, doesn´t get old and maybe can live forever. Additionally, it seems that the monster is partially omnipresent because in mysterious and inexplicable ways, he spies human beings, without been seen, and there is a strange psychic connection between him and his creator, who sometimes sees the monster or perceives his presence.
4. The scientific background:
Modern and Contemporary human beings that are fan of science-fiction (a literary gender that appeared and evolved since the 19th century) tend to believe that science will solve all the problems, overcoming religions, ethics and morality (this is called scientific fetish).
However, the humankind has reached a dangerous crossroads. Humans have abilities and growing knowledge that could endanger the human race and propitiate its eminent end. Paradoxically, no species on the Earth can compete or fight against human beings, but the same ambitious humans can achieve the self-destruction, mainly by their own inventions. Instead of working in better products that could protect the nature and save the environment from pollution and climate change, they work satisfying complex interests that harm humankind. Even, the student Victor Frankenstein is so ambitious that he made the monster of a huge and unnecessary stature.
This idea of the self-destruction of humanity due to its own technology has been propitiated by many science-fiction writers. Isaac Asimov, in The End of Eternity (1955), conceived that the most powerful secular government that could ever exist in the history of humankind, supported by the technology of time-traveling, and the ability to change unfavorable events in any epoch, would lead to the final destruction of the human race. In this regard, the great obsession of science fiction, given the remarkable development of robotics and artificial intelligence, is that the human race will be destroyed mainly by a rebellion of thinking machines (modern monsters of Frankenstein). This is also reflected in the series: Battlestar Galactica and The Terminator.
Now, this is the summary of Frankenstein:
Coming from a wealthy family, since a very young age, Victor Frankenstein is extremely ambitious: he wants to know the secrets of the origin of life. Living in Geneva, Switzerland, he goes to a German university to study medicine, and at that time, his mother passes away. Being an avid reader, he is fascinated with Greek, Oriental and Arabic culture and is fond of Cornelius Agrippa. In the university, he has a conflict with two professors. One rejects the views of Ancient philosophers, and the other accepts them, confirming that they created the bases for modern science.
He is a brilliant student and wants to bring the dead from beyond and create life from inanimate matter. Also, in his immense ambition, he wants to be recognized as a father god of a new species. In this regard, he experiments with corpses and creates Frankenstein's monster.
Nonetheless, the monster escapes and he goes into a severe depression with many health problems. Furthermore, he returns to his hometown because his young brother is murdered and his cousin, a beautiful girl, is accused of this death (someone planted false evidence in her pocket). In advance, he knows that the monster is guilty, but he can´t reveal the truth and is unable to stop the execution of his dear cousin.
Later, he goes to the mountains and has a discussion with the monster, who explains him how he survived in the woods, spied a family of cottagers, learned too much about humans and himself, and being rejected and attacked by a population, the cottagers and a man, after saving a woman, in revenge, he decided to burn down the shack of the cottagers, murder Frankenstein's brother and put the false proof on her cousin. The monster asks to create a female of his kind and he promises to go away from Europe and will not bother human beings anymore. At first, Victor Frankenstein rejects the request, but he is convinced by the monster and accepts.
Several months later, in Scotland, Victor Frankenstein is ready to create the monster's female. Nonetheless, he reflects and realizes that she will not get along with her partner, will not respect the pact made by the monster, and a new species of monsters would destroy the human race. He ravages it, drawing out the wrath of the monster, who murders Victor Frankenstein's best friend. Next, the medical student is accused and sent to jail for this death, although his father goes to the island, and manages to prove his innocence and free him.
The monster has threatened to kill Victor Frankenstein's future wife, and despite all precautions, during their honeymoon, she is murdered. A few days after hearing this news, afflicted by so much pain, Victor Frankenstein's father dies, and he decides to take revenge on the monster.
Victor Frankenstein chases him around the north pole, but he is extremely afflicted, sick and weak, and is rescued by a ship. In bed, he tells the whole story to the captain, who is the narrator of this story (4 letters to his sister and 24 chapters).
Finally, the monster appears in front of his creator, but he is already dead. He explains to the captain the reasons for his behavior and indicates that his revenge is complete, he is sorry for the death of innocent victims and will go to burn his body on a pyre, since he doesn´t want to continue living. The monster abandons the ship in order to fulfill his last promise...
Also, it is relevant to note that in this novel of science fiction and horror other stories converge: first, the captain communicates with his sister about his desire to have a great friend, his ambitious travels and the strange tale of Frankenstein, second, there is a traumatic story of Victor Frankenstein's mother, daughter of his father's best friend, third, the relationship between Victor Frankenstein and his best friend, fourth, the adoption of Victor Frankenstein's future wife, fifth, the trial of the Turk, sixth, the love relationship between the Turk's daughter and the son of the family, who helped him escape from jail, and seventh, the condemn and exile of that French family, who are pleased to accept another fugitive: the Turk's daughter.
Concluding, as mentioned previously, this novel is presented in 4 letters and 24 chapters. It would have been better to assign a title to each section, being the recommended ones:
Letter 1, captain Walton to his sister, Margaret Saville, journey to Russia, December, 11th , 17--.
Letter 2, looking for a friend, March, 28th, 17--.
Letter 3, without incidents, July, 7th, 17--.
Letter 4, rescue of Victor Frankenstein, August, 5th, 17--.
Chapter 1, Victor Frankenstein's Family.
Chapter 2, Victor Frankenstein's Best Friend.
Chapter 3, Victor Frankenstein Goes to Ingolstadt's University.
Chapter 4, Victor Frankenstein's Great Idea.
Chapter 5, The Creation of Frankenstein's Monster.
Chapter 6, Victor Frankenstein's Best Friend Visits the University.
Chapter 7, The Murder of Victor Frankenstein's Brother.
Chapter 8, The Trial of Victor Frankenstein's Cousin.
Chapter 9, The Journey to the Valley of Chamounix.
Chapter 10, Victor Frankenstein Meets the Monster.
Chapter 11, The Monster Tells His Story.
Chapter 12, The Monster Continues Telling His Story.
Chapter 13, The Arrival of the Arabian Lady.
Chapter 14, The Story of the Turk.
Chapter 15, The Monster Meets the Cottagers.
Chapter 16, The Monster Recounts the Murder of Frankenstein's Brother.
Chapter 17, The Monster's Unusual Request.
Chapter 18, The Long Journey of Victor Frankenstein and His Best Friend.
Chapter 19, Victor Frankenstein's Arrival to Scotland.
Chapter 20, The Destruction of the Monster's Companion.
Chapter 21, The Trial of Victor Frankenstein.
Chapter 22, The Wedding of Victor Frankenstein.
Chapter 23, The Murder of Victor Frankenstein's Wife.
Chapter 24, The Final Confrontation Between Victor Frankenstein and the Monster.
The final details of this analysis are exposed in the Conclusions.
Letter 1, captain Walton to his sister, Margaret Saville, journey to Russia, December, 11th , 1817.
To Mrs. Saville, England.
St. Petersburg, Dec. 11th, 17--.
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise, which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare and increasing confidence, in the success of my undertaking.
I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburg, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has traveled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation. It ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendor. There, for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators, there snow and frost are banished, and sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power, which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death, and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels, when embarking in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up its native river. But supposing that all these conjectures can be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit, which I shall confer on all humankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine.
These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm, which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose, a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favorite dream of my early years. I have read with ardor the accounts of the various voyages, which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas, which surround the pole. You may remember that a history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our good Uncle Thomas' library. My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father's dying injunction had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.
These visions faded when I examined, for the first time, those poets whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also became a poet and for one year lived in a paradise of my own creation: I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated. You are well acquainted with my failure and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just at that time, I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent.
Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I can, even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself to this great enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship. I accompanied the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea; I voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and lack of sleep; I often worked harder than the common sailors during the day and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice, I actually hired myself as an under-mate in a Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration. I must recognize that I felt a little proud when my captain offered me the second dignity in the vessel and entreated me to remain with the greatest earnestness, so valuable did he consider my services.
And now, dear Margaret, don´t I deserve to accomplish some great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, when theirs are failing.
This is the most favorable period for traveling in Russia. They fly quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stagecoach. The cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs, as a dress which I have already adopted, for there is a great difference between walking the deck and remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins. I have no ambition to lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburg and Archangel.
I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three weeks; and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many sailors as I think necessary among those who are accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet. If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.
Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on you, and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude for all your love and kindness.
Your affectionate brother,
R. Walton.
Letter 2, looking for a friend, March, 28th, 1817.
To Mrs. Saville, England.
Archangel, 28th March, 17--.
How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow! Yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom I have already engaged appear to be men on whom I can depend and are certainly possessed of dauntless courage. But I have one desire, which I have never yet been able to satisfy, and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I have no friend, Margaret, when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to celebrate my joy. If I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavor to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true, but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the wish of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution and too impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas' books of voyages. At that age, I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my native country. Now, I am twenty-eight and am in reality more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more and that my daydreams are more extended and magnificent, but they want (as the painters call it) "keeping"; and I greatly need a friend, who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavor and regulate my mind.
Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. Yet some feelings, unaligned to the dross of human nature, beat even in these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory, or rather, to word my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in his profession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and professional prejudices, not softened by cultivation, retains some of the noblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel, finding that he was unemployed in this city. I easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise. The master is a person of an excellent disposition and is remarkable in the ship for his gentleness and the mildness of his discipline. This circumstance, added to his well-known integrity and dauntless courage, made me very desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed it to be necessary, and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for his kindliness of heart and the respect and obedience paid to him by his crew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate in being able to secure his services. I heard of him first in rather a romantic manner, from a lady who owes to him the happiness of her life. This, briefly, is his story. Some years ago, he loved a young Russian lady of moderate fortune, and having amassed a considerable sum in prize-money, the father of the girl consented to the match. He saw his mistress once before the destined ceremony; but she was bathed in tears, and throwing herself at his feet, entreated him to spare her, confessing at the same time that she loved another, but that he was poor, and that her father would never consent to the union. My generous friend reassured the suppliant, and on being informed of the name of her lover, instantly abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, on which he had designed to pass the remainder of his life; but he bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the remains of his prize-money to purchase stock, and then himself solicited the young woman's father to consent to her marriage with her lover. But the old man decidedly refused, thinking himself bound in honor to my friend, who, when he found the father inexorable, quit his country, nor returned until he heard that his former mistress was married according to her inclinations. "What a noble fellow!" You will exclaim. He is so; but then he is wholly uneducated: he is as silent as a Turk, and a kind of ignorant carelessness attends him, which, while it renders his conduct the more astonishing, detracts from the interest and sympathy, which otherwise he would command.
Yet do not suppose, because I complain a little or because I can conceive a consolation for my toils, which I may never know, that I am wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate, and my voyage is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The winter has been dreadfully severe, but the spring promises well, and it is considered as a remarkably early season, so that perhaps, I may sail sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly: you know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the safety of others is committed to my care.
I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of the trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to "the land of mist and snow", but I shall kill no albatross; therefore do not be alarmed for my safety or if I should come back to you as worn and woeful as the "Ancient Mariner." You will smile at my allusion, but I will disclose a secret: I have often attributed my attachment to my passionate enthusiasm for the dangerous mysteries of ocean to that production of the most imaginative of modern poets. There is something at work, in my soul, which I do not understand. I am practically industrious, painstaking, a workman to execute with perseverance and labor, but besides this there is a love for the marvelous and a belief in the marvelous that intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and not visited regions I am about to explore.
But to return to dearer considerations. Shall I meet you again, after having traversed immense seas, and returned by the most southern cape of Africa or America? I dare not expect such success, yet I cannot bear to look on the reverse of the picture. Continue for the present to write to me by every opportunity: I may receive your letters on some occasions when I need them most to support my spirits. I love you very tenderly. Remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.
Your affectionate brother,
Robert Walton.
Letter 3, without incidents, July, 7th, 1817--.
To Mrs. Saville, England.
July 7th, 17.
My dear Sister,
I write a few lines in haste to say that I am safe and well advanced on my voyage. This letter will reach England by a merchantman now on its homeward voyage from Archangel, more fortunate than I, who may not see my native land, perhaps, for many years. I am, however, in good spirits: my men are bold and apparently firm of purpose, nor do the floating sheets of ice that continually pass us, indicating the dangers of the region towards which we are advancing, appear to dismay them. We have already reached a very high latitude; but it is the height of summer, and although not so warm as in England, the southern gales, which blow us speedily towards those shores which I so ardently desire to attain, breathe a degree of renovating warmth which I had not expected.
No incidents have hitherto befallen us that would make a figure in a letter. One or two stiff gales and the springing of a leak are accidents which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record, and I shall be well content if nothing worse happen to us during our voyage.
Adieu, my dear Margaret. Be assured that for my own sake, as well as yours, I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, persevering, and prudent. But success shall crown my endeavors. Wherefore not? Thus far I have gone, tracing a secure way over the pathless seas, the very stars themselves being witnesses and testimonies of my triumph. Why not still proceed over the untamed yet obedient element? What can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man?
My swelling heart involuntarily pours itself out thus. But I must finish. Heaven bless my beloved sister!
R.W.
Letter 4, rescue of Victor Frankenstein, August, 5th, 1817--.
To Mrs. Saville, England.
August 5th, 17.
So strange an accident has happened to us that I cannot forbear recording it, although it is very probable that you will see me before these papers can come into your possession. Last Monday (July 31st), we were nearly surrounded by ice, which closed the ship on all sides, scarcely leaving her the sea-room in which she floated. Our situation was somewhat dangerous, especially as we were compassed round by a very thick fog. We accordingly lay to, hoping that some change would take place in the atmosphere and weather.
About two o'clock the mist cleared away, and we beheld, stretched out in every direction, vast and irregular plains of ice, which seemed to have no end. Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind began to grow watchful with anxious thoughts, when a strange sight suddenly attracted our attention and diverted our solicitude from our own situation. We perceived a low carriage, fixed on a sledge and drawn by dogs, pass on towards the north, at the distance of half a mile; a being which had the shape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, sat in the sledge and guided the dogs. We watched the rapid progress of the traveler with our telescopes until he was lost among the distant inequalities of the ice.
This appearance excited our unqualified wonder. We were, as we believed, many hundred miles from any land, but this apparition seemed to denote that it was not, in reality, so distant as we had supposed. Shut in, however, by ice, it was impossible to follow his track, which we had observed with the greatest attention.
About two hours after this occurrence, we heard the ground sea, and before night the ice broke and freed our ship. We, however, lay to until the morning, fearing to encounter in the dark those large loose masses which float about after the breaking up of the ice. I profited of this time to rest for a few hours.
In the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I went upon deck and found all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, apparently talking to someone in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge, like that we had seen before, which had drifted towards us in the night on a large fragment of ice. Only one dog remained alive, but there was a human being within it whom the sailors were persuading to enter the vessel. He was not, as the other traveler seemed to be, a savage inhabitant of some undiscovered island, but a European. When appeared on deck, the master said: "Here is our captain, and he will not allow you to perish on the open sea." On perceiving me, the stranger addressed me in English, although with a foreign accent. "Before I come on board your vessel", he said, "will you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound?"
You may conceive my astonishment on hearing such a question addressed to me from a man on the brink of destruction, and to whom I should have supposed that my vessel would have been a resource, which he would not have exchanged for the most precious wealth the earth can afford. I replied, however, that we were on a voyage of discovery towards the northern pole.
Upon hearing this he appeared satisfied and consented to come on board. Good God! Margaret, if you had seen the man who thus capitulated for his safety, your surprise would have been boundless. His limbs were nearly frozen, and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and suffering. I never saw a man in so wretched a condition. We attempted to carry him into the cabin, but as soon as he had quit the fresh air he fainted. We accordingly brought him back to the deck and restored him to animation by rubbing him with brandy and forcing him to swallow a small quantity. As soon as he showed signs of life we wrapped him up in blankets and placed him near the chimney of the kitchen stove. By slow degrees, he recovered and ate a little soup, which restored him wonderfully.
Two days passed in this manner before he was able to speak, and I often feared that his sufferings had deprived him of understanding. When he had in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin and attended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw a more interesting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of wildness, and even madness, but there are moments when, if anyone performs an act of kindness towards him or does him the most trifling service, his whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equaled. But he is generally melancholy and despairing, and sometimes he gnashes his teeth, as if impatient of the weight of woes that oppresses him.
When my guest was a little recovered, I had great trouble to keep off the men, who wished to ask him a thousand questions; but I would not allow him to be tormented by their idle curiosity, in a state of body and mind whose restoration evidently depended upon entire repose. Once, however, the lieutenant asked why he had come so far upon the ice in so strange a vehicle.
His countenance instantly assumed an aspect of the deepest gloom, and he replied: "To seek one who fled from me."
"And did the man whom you pursued travel in the same fashion?"
"Yes."
"Then I fancy we have seen him, for the day before we picked you up, we saw some dogs drawing a sledge, with a man in it, across the ice."
This aroused the stranger's attention, and he asked a multitude of questions, concerning the route which the demon, as he called him, had pursued. Soon after, when he was alone with me, he said: "I have, doubtless, excited your curiosity, as well as that of these good people, but you are too considerate to make inquiries."
"Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman of me to trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine."
"And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation, you have benevolently restored me to life."
Soon after this, he inquired if I thought that the breaking up of the ice had destroyed the other sledge. I replied that I could not answer with any degree of certainty, for the ice had not broken until near midnight, and the traveler might have arrived at a place of safety before that time; but of this I could not judge.
From this time, a new spirit of life animated the decaying frame of the stranger. He manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck to watch for the sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to remain in the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of the atmosphere. I have promised that someone should watch for him and give him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight.
Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health, but is very silent and appears uneasy when anyone except myself enters his cabin. Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle that the sailors are all interested in him, although they have had very little communication with him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother, and his constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck so attractive and amiable.
I said in one of my letters, my dear Margaret that I should find no friend on the wide ocean; yet I have found a man who, before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should have been happy to have possessed as the brother of my heart.
I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, should I have any fresh incidents to record.
August 13th, 17.
My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble a creature destroyed by misery, without feeling the most poignant grief? He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated, and when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence.
He is now much recovered from his illness and is continually on the deck, apparently watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, although unhappy, he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery but that he interests himself deeply in the projects of others. He has frequently conversed with me on mine, which I have communicated to him without disguise. He entered attentively into all my arguments in favor of my eventual success and into every minute detail of the measures I had taken to secure it. I was easily led by the sympathy which he evinced to use the language of my heart, to give utterance to the burning ardor of my soul, and to say, with all the fervor that warmed me, how gladly I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence and my every hope to the furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death were but a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge, which I sought, for the dominion I should acquire and transmit over the elemental foes of our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my listener's countenance. At first, I perceived that he tried to suppress his emotion, he placed his hands before his eyes, and my voice quivered and failed me as I beheld tears trickle fast from between his fingers, a groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused; at length he spoke, in broken accents: "Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have you drunk also of the intoxicating drought? Hear me; let me reveal my tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!"
Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but the paroxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakened powers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation were necessary to restore his composure.
Having conquered the violence of his feelings, he appeared to despise himself for being the slave of passion, and quelling the dark tyranny of despair, he led me again to converse concerning myself personally. He asked me the history of my earlier years. The tale was quickly told, but it awakened various trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of finding a friend, of my thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than had ever fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could boast of little happiness, who did not enjoy this blessing.
"I agree with you", the stranger replied: "we are not fashioned creatures, but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves, such a friend ought to be, do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have hope, and the world before you, and have no cause for despair. But, I have lost everything and cannot begin a new life."
As he said this his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled grief that touched me to the heart. But, he was silent and presently retired to his cabin.
Even broken in spirit as he is. No one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions seem still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.
Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine wanderer? You would not if you saw him. You have been tutored and refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are therefore somewhat fastidious, but this only renders you the more fit to appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I have endeavored to discover what quality it is which he possesses that elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing power of judgment, a penetration into the causes of things, unequaled for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression and a voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music.
August 19th, 17.
Yesterday the stranger said to me: "You may easily perceive, Captain Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had determined at one time that the memory of these evils should die with me, but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine has been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be useful to you. Yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing the same course, exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me what I am, I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one that may direct you if you succeed in your undertaking and console you in case of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually marvelous deemed. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature, I might fear to encounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule, but many things will appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions which would provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers of nature, nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed."
You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offered communication, yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a strong desire to ameliorate his fate, if it were in my power. I expressed these feelings in my answer.
"I thank you", he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; my fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall repose in peace. I understand your feeling", he continued, perceiving that I wished to interrupt him, "but, you are mistaken, my friend, if thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny; listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined."
He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day, when I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. I have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest pleasure, but to me, who know him and who hear it from his own lips, with what interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future day! Even now, as I commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in my ears, his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness, I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within. Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it, thus!
Chapter 1. "Victor Frankenstein's Family"
I am by birth a Genevese and my family is one of the distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years, counselors and syndics, and my father had filled several public situations with honor and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family.
As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a proud and unbending disposition and could not bear to live in poverty and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, therefore, in the most honorable manner, he retreated with his daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship and was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in endeavoring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world again through his credit and assistance.
Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself, and it was ten months before my father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this discovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a mean street near the Reuss. But when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed him. Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of his fortunes, but it was sufficient to provide him with sustenance for some months, and in the meantime, he hoped to procure some respectable employment in a merchant's house. The interval was, consequently, spent in inaction; his grief only became more deep and rankling when he had leisure for reflection, and at length it took so fast hold of his mind that at the end of three months he lay on a bed of sickness, incapable of any exertion.
His daughter attended him with the greatest tenderness, but she saw with despair that their little fund was rapidly decreasing and that there was no other prospect of support. But Caroline Beaufort possessed a mind of an uncommon mold, and her courage rose to support her in her adversity. She procured plain work, she plaited straw and by various means contrived to earn a pittance scarcely sufficient to support life.
Several months passed in this manner. Her father grew worse. Her time was more entirely occupied in attending him. Her means of subsistence decreased; and in the tenth month, her father died in her arms, leaving her an orphan and a beggar. This last blow overcame her, and she knelt by Beaufort's coffin weeping bitterly, when my father entered the chamber. He came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl, who committed herself to his care; and after the interment of his friend, he conducted her to Geneva and placed her under the protection of a relation. Two years after this event, Caroline became his wife.
There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, but this circumstance seemed to unite them only closer in bonds of devoted affection. There was a sense of justice in my father's upright mind, which rendered it necessary that he should approve highly to love strongly. Perhaps during former years, he had suffered from the late-discovered unworthiness of one beloved and so was disposed to set a greater value on tried worth. There was a show of gratitude and worship in his attachment to my mother, differing wholly from the doting fondness of age, for it was inspired by reverence for her virtues and a desire to be the means of, in some degree, recompensing her for the sorrows she had endured, but which gave inexpressible grace to his behavior to her. Everything was made to yield to her wishes and her convenience. He strove to shelter her, as a fair exotic is sheltered by the gardener, from every rougher wind and to surround her with all that could tend to excite pleasurable emotion in her soft and benevolent mind. Her health, and even the tranquility of her hitherto constant spirit, had been shaken by what she had gone through. During the two years that had elapsed previous to their marriage my father had gradually relinquished all his public functions, and immediately after their union they sought the pleasant climate of Italy, and the change of scene and interest attendant on a tour through that land of wonders, as a restorative for her weakened frame.
From Italy, they visited Germany and France. I, their eldest child, was born at Naples, and as an infant accompanied them in their rambles. I remained for several years their only child. Much as they were attached to each other, they seemed to draw inexhaustible stores of affection from a very mine of love to bestow them upon me. My mother's tender caresses and my father's smile of benevolent pleasure while regarding me are my first recollections. I was their plaything and their idol, and something better: their child, the innocent and helpless creature bestowed on them by heaven, whom to bring up to good and whose future lot was in their hands to direct to happiness or misery, according as they fulfilled their duties towards me. With this deep consciousness of what they owed towards the being to which they had given life, added to the active spirit of tenderness that animated both, it may be imagined that while during every hour of my infant life, I received a lesson of patience, charity and self-control, I was so guided by a silken cord that all seemed but one train of enjoyment to me.
For a long time, I was their only care. My mother had much desired to have a daughter, but I continued being their single offspring. When I was about five years old, while making an excursion beyond the frontiers of Italy, they passed a week on the shores of the Lake of Como. Their benevolent disposition often made them enter the cottages of the poor. This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a necessity, a passion, remembering what she had suffered, and how she had been relieved, for her to act in her turn the guardian angel to the afflicted. During one of their walks, a poor cot in the foldings of a vale attracted their notice as being singularly disconsolate, while the number of half-clothed children gathered about it spoke of penury in its worst shape. One day, when my father had gone by himself to Milan, my mother, accompanied by me, visited this abode. She found a peasant and his wife, hard working, bent down by care and labor, distributing a scanty meal to five hungry babes. Among these there was one which attracted my mother far above all the rest. She appeared of a different stock. The four others were dark-eyed, hardy little vagrants. This child was thin and very fair. Her hair was the brightest living gold and despite the poverty of her clothing, seemed to set a crown of distinction on her head. Her brow was clear and ample, her blue eyes cloudless and her lips and the molding of her face, so expressive of sensibility and sweetness, that none could behold her without looking on her as of a distinct species, a being heaven-sent, and bearing a celestial stamp in all her features.
The peasant woman, perceiving that my mother fixed eyes of wonder and admiration on this lovely girl, eagerly communicated her history. She was not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her mother was a German and had died on giving her birth. The infant had been placed with these good people to nurse: they were better off then. They had not been long married, and their eldest child was but just born. The father of their charge was one of those Italians nursed in the memory of the antique glory of Italy, one among the "schiavi ognor frementi", who exerted himself to obtain the liberty of his country. He became the victim of its weakness. Whether he had died or still lingered in the dungeons of Austria, it was not known. His property was confiscated; his child became an orphan and a beggar. She continued with her foster parents and bloomed in their rude abode, fairer than a garden rose among dark-leaved brambles.
When my father returned from Milan, he found playing with me in the hall of our villa a child fairer than pictured cherub, a creature who seemed to shed radiance from her looks and whose form and motions were lighter than the chamois of the hills. The apparition was soon explained. With his permission my mother prevailed on her rustic guardians to yield their charge to her. They were fond of the sweet orphan. Her presence had seemed a blessing to them, but it would be unfair to her to keep her in poverty, and they wanted that Providence afforded her such powerful protection. They consulted their village priest, and the result was that Elizabeth Lavenza became the inmate of my parents' house, my more than sister, the beautiful and adored companion of all my occupations and my pleasures.
Everyone loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverential attachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, my pride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully: "I have a pretty present for my Victor, tomorrow he shall have it." And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine, mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me, my more than sister, since until death she was to be mine only.