1242

  • Towards morning . . . night-mare This appears to be a further application of Coleridge's writings to the general tenor
    of the novel. His "Pains of Sleep," in which he recounts the psychic repercussions
    of a nightmare induced by opium, was published in 1816, shortly before Mary Shelley
    began writing Frankenstein.
  • 1247

  • the fears I entertained of a mutiny These are by no means unfounded fears. The notorious mutiny of Henry Hudson's crew
    during his fourth voyage to the north in 1611 resulted in the renowned explorer's
    death. Even so late as his polar exploration of 1829, Sir John Ross experienced a
    mutiny on one of its ships.
  • 1246

  • mutilated one The irony of the previous sentence is here almost grotesquely intensified. The being
    to whom Victor originally gave "life and spirit" was so horribly mutilated in his
    creation as to provoke universal aversion from all whom he met. Now, in the text,
    Victor hopes in some way to rectify that lack of initial perspective and clean up
    either what he once called his "filthy creation" (I:3:9), or lacking success at that
    aim, at least his own image. The secondary irony is that neither he nor his Creature
    can expect an individual "posterity" since each has denied the other the possibility
    of procreation. The posterity that will determine their lasting reputations is thus
    composed solely of readers of the present text that Victor is so assiduously determined
    to rewrite.
  • 1245

  • motion of every muscle . . . extremities of my limbs The oddity of this observation seems to be directly based in Victor's experience
    as a physiologist. What the reader cannot miss, however, is the extent of self-absorption
    that could lead a man in the process of discovering his wife's corpse to note his
    own bodily symptoms with such detached scrupulosity.
  • 1248

  • to shake off my chains This conception of slavery as a psychological as well as physical condition is very
    much of a piece with other literary productions by the Geneva circle during the summer
    of 1816, most particularly The Prisoner of Chillon, written by Lord Byron in the week
    after he and Percy Bysshe Shelley visited the Castle of Chillon during their boat
    trip around the lake in mid-July. Shelley included an account in the letters he appended
    to A History of a Six Weeks' Tour. In Byron's poem, at the end of his long captivity,
    François de Bonnivard, the prisoner, claims, "It was at length the same to me, / Fetter'd
    or fetterless to be" (lines 372-73) and ruefully notes, in much the same language
    as Victor employs here, that "iron is a cankering thing, / For in these limbs its
    teeth remain, / With marks that will not wear away" (lines 38-40).
  • 1244

  • most miserable of mortals The terms here have a strongly echoing effect, returning us to the language in which
    the Creature and Victor acknowledged their similarities toward the end of the colloquy
    on the Mer-de-Glace (II:8:36, II:9:2, II:9:5).
  • 1243

  • the most distinguished natural philosophers In general terms England was the center for scientific knowledge in the Europe of
    the late Enlightenment. A major reason for this was the presence of the Royal Society
    for the Improvement of Natural Knowledge, founded in 1660 shortly after the restoration
    of Charles II: its periodical, Philosophical Transactions, was still in Mary Shelley's
    day the principal scientific journal of the world. The president of the Royal Society
    at the time of the publication of Frankenstein was Sir Joseph Banks, one of the great
    explorers and botanists of the eighteenth century. Although Banks's diverse interests
    would not have specifically engaged Victor Frankenstein, we can be sure that his example
    would have been a guiding light for Walton. That of his successor, Sir Humphrey Davy,
    however, would have equally drawn Victor's admiration, since he was perhaps the premier
    scientist experimenting with the chemical effects of electricity in the first quarter
    of the nineteenth century.

    Percy Bysshe Shelley, it should be noted, attended a number of anatomical lectures
    by John Abernethy in 1811.

  • 1205

  • listless indolence

    The near-catatonic state in which Victor exists is a sign of profound mental disturbance:
    Mary Shelley's repetition of the word "listless" from the chapter's beginning indicates
    that Victor leaves in the same state in which he has existed since his interview with
    the Creature: compare III:1:1 and note.

  • 1207

  • lost in darkness and distance The novel closes with a fine symmetry, repeating the verbal form ("lost") with which
    the Creature had disappeared from view in Volume 1 (I:L4:3) and Volume 2 (II:9:18).
    Given its profound association with the epic of Milton that so haunts this work, that
    term may be thought to be a marker for the Creature's entire existence.
  • 1208

  • Do you not love another? At this juncture in the novel few readers would not be startled by the aptness of
    this question, even if none would construe the passion that consumes Victor as in
    any conventional sense, whether erotic or paternal, that of love. Whatever the problems
    of the fictional time scheme, it is apparent that for the past four-and-a-half years,
    which is the lifetime of Victor's offspring, not to neglect the months of concentrated
    labor that went into his gestation, Victor has been obsessed with the Creature to
    the neglect, even destruction, of any other relationship.