1336

  • the latter days of The text printed in 1818 has "latter days of December," which is clearly a compositor's
    error unnoticed in the Shelleys' proofreading of the text for the first edition. The
    mistake, once in print, went unnoticed in all later editions of the novel. In Mary
    Shelley's draft, however, the word is unmistakably "September." She would have had
    every reason to adhere to this timeline since, just a few weeks earlier than her fictional
    schedule, in 1814, it took the Shelley party nine days to cover the distance between
    Basel and Rotterdam (30 August-7 September) travelling exactly as do Victor Frankenstein
    and Henry Clerval and, even when adverse conditions delayed their departure from Holland,
    a three days' crossing brought them to London on 13 September (see Six Weeks' Tour
    for Switzerland and Holland).

    The attenuated journey of the 1818 text is whittled to three months in the shifting
    of the original departure date in 1831, which, as indicated earlier, may have been
    done to accommodate the timespan after Victor's return from Mont Blanc rather than
    his arrival date in England. In the next chapter, as recorded in both the 1818 and
    1831 texts, the chronology reverts to a normative calendar and Victor observes that
    he and Clerval "had arrived in England at the beginning of October" (III:2:5).

  • 1341

  • a sister or a brother In terms of Mary Shelley's biography, this may be a revealing, if somewhat odd, statement.
    Mary Shelley was the sole child of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, conceived
    before they were officially married and then left motherless by Wollstonecraft's death.
    She had three step-siblings: Fanny Imlay, the daughter of Mary Wollstonecraft and
    the American Gilbert Imlay, who committed suicide in 1817 while Mary was still engaged
    in the writing of Frankenstein; and Charles and Claire Clairmont, children of the
    first marriage of Godwin's second wife Mary Jane Clairmont. Because of their gender
    and nearness of age, Mary and Claire were thrown much together and experienced considerable
    sibling friction. Claire's unacknowledged pregnancy by Lord Byron was the driving
    force behind the 1816 journey to Geneva, and when her condition became known it fell
    largely to Mary to see her through the pregnancy without scandal. From this point
    on, for the next five years, Claire lived with the Shelleys both in England and Italy.
    Whatever words Victor speaks here, it is clear that Mary's closeness to her step-sister
    generally increased the suspiciousness with which she regarded Claire's motives and
    actions.
  • 1340

  • with a single man in it The villagers one and all reduce the being whom Victor has been anathematizing as
    a daemon to human proportions. In this they seem cast in the same mold as Walton's
    lieutenant who, after the initial appearance of the Creature, stolidly questions Victor
    about the "man" he has been pursuing (I:L4:11).
  • 1342

  • I was the slave, not the master The Creature reverts to the terms of his last confrontation of Victor Frankenstein,
    when he called Victor his slave and demanded his obedience (III:3:11 and note). The
    effect of this recantation, however, is not so much the simple reversal the diction
    connotes, as an erasure of the polarizing of his terms. Both he and Victor were slaves,
    mastered alike by their antagonism.
  • 1345

  • smooth and placid as a southern sea Victor's only experience of a southern sea would appear to have come at the beginning
    of this last trip in pursuit of the Creature, embarked on from a French Mediterranean
    port (III:7:9). On its surface his sardonic comment roundly indicts the crew for moral
    and spiritual laxity. Yet, on second thought, an even stronger counterforce ironically
    deflates the surface terms. This ironic inversion begins as we recognize the considerable
    negative connotations from earlier in the novel already adhering to this celebration
    of the "glorious" (I:L1:6 and note, I:L2:3 and note, and III:Walton:6 and note). On
    top of those resonances, the reference to "a southern sea" should remind the knowledgeable
    reader of the last voyage undertaken by Ulysses and his crew in search of glory, a
    voyage that took them far into the unknown southern sea where their ship foundered.
    This is the subject of Canto 26 of Dante's Inferno, which is likewise the source upon
    which Tennyson depended for his dramatic monologue, "Ulysses," written in 1833. In
    Dante's rendition of this story, for all his heroic posturing, Ulysses has led his
    men to their death for nothing beyond a meaningless personal glory. For this act of
    essential treachery he is lodged near the bottom of hell for eternity.

    It is worth remarking that, in her draft of this passage, Mary Shelley originally
    wrote "summer lake," and the phrase "southern sea" was inserted above it in P. B.
    Shelley's hand. This interpolation, of course, would have had to have been agreed
    to by Mary Shelley, presumably after some discussion of the appropriateness of the
    intertextual context the phrase evokes.

  • 1344

  • my slavery

    This term is ominous for Victor's future relations with his Creature. It also considerably
    darkens the construction of what Victor sees as his destiny, also of how he comprehends
    the nature of imitative behavior, for he appears to think it achieved not through
    emulation but, rather, through the exercise of coercion.

  • 1343

  • during which I was the slave of my creature

    The new terminology for Victor's relationship with the Creature, introduced four paragraphs
    earlier (III:1:9), returns with augmented stress. The underlying notion of slavery
    includes not just bondage but an absence of willed responsibility. Victor thus appears
    to be distancing himself from his recognition of the awesome obligations of a deity
    with which the second volume closed (II:9:18).

  • 1339

  • I shut my eyes involuntarily These two sentences encapsulate a highly complex aesthetic and moral act. It is against
    his will that Walton closes his eyes; yet with eyes closed he occupies an essentially
    different space from that in which he first viewed the Creature a second before. He
    has unwittingly placed himself in the position of the elder DeLacey, who is the only
    stranger not to have rejected the Creature at first sight (II:7:18). DeLacey's blindness
    and Walton's closed eyes remove from their judgments the beautiful as a determining
    aesthetic criterion. With its absence each is able to act on what purports to be an
    objective moral plane, or at least not to have pre-determined aesthetic categories
    prejudice their responses. Paradoxically, an act that is reflexive and therefore deterministic
    in its inception becomes the means by which unexamined, normative standards of behavior,
    which are truly deterministic in their impulse, can be transcended, allowing an exercise
    of free will. Since Walton is not actually blind, his act in its ethical import is
    unique for the novel.
  • 1348

  • some destiny Victor's perhaps unconscious withdrawal into vague euphemism to match his father's
    rhetoric here strongly suggests a lack of candor. It also indicates that, however
    self-accusing he may be, he has accepted no real responsibility for the actions of
    his Creature.
  • 1347

  • the solitude I coveted

    Although, of course, Victor will need to pursue his scientific labors by himself,
    the verb "coveted" conveys a sense of profound asociality as a crucial aspect of Victor's
    constitution. However eagerly he expresses his anticipation of returning to find fulfillment
    in his union with Elizabeth, what his father praises as "our domestic calm" at this
    point in the 1818 edition seems wholly to lack the capacity to satisfy Victor.