1006

  • the latter end of

    "August" in the 1818 text. This was changed to "September" in 1831 to avoid a jumble
    in the chronology (compare III:1 in both 1818 and 1831). The expedition to Mont Blanc
    took place "about the middle of August" (II:1:10), but then upon Victor's return,
    as this chapter opens by recounting, "Day after day, week after week passed away"
    (III:1:1) in listlessness.

  • 1005

  • I might be driven into the wide Atlantic Victor's hyperbole is characteristic of his imagination, which, whether leading him
    to create a being of abnormal stature or to envision a succesion of horrific torments
    he might suffer, is always larger than life. The remark does, however, prepare us
    for the extraordinary distance he does, indeed, travel.
  • 1008

  • I did not . . . avert it The language here is curious but characteristic of Victor, who tends to exonerate
    himself by deferral to a presumed destiny he cannot alter.
  • 1007

  • August 26th, 17— Walton dates the final entry in his previous letter (I:L4:30) to his sister on August
    19th, noting that Victor will begin his tale the following day. Thus, Victor's long
    narrative, which constitutes the bulk of the novel's three volumes and spans many
    years and all of Europe, has occupied a mere six days of the fictional time frame.
  • 1010

  • the award of justice In the course of two trials and even in his final deposition to a Geneva magistrate
    Victor is exonerated from reponsibility for any criminal activity. Thus, this "award"
    is one that, in Victor's mind, exists beyond the checkered course of human justice.
    In a fine irony, it is only moments before he narrates the events of a trial from
    which he easily secures his release that Victor indicates to Walton that he has brought
    himself to the bar to be condemned.
  • 1009

  • avoided . . . any encounter Victor's regaining a sense of community through the influence of Clerval's letter,
    as he represented himself three paragraphs earlier, seems far from certain. His shying
    from contact with his fellow humans has become virtually instinctive. That he refers
    to the fishermen by the generic term "creatures" is instructive, since it separates
    them to a marked degree within the same generic category as the being whom he created.
  • 1012

  • and I be alone? The faintly Biblical language in which the Creature speaks is actually derived, and
    it would seem significantly so, from Milton. The vocabulary reflects the scene in
    which Adam names the various, already-mated species of animals, then asks God why
    he should himself be left in solitude. See Paradise Lost 8.389ff. and 8.594. In context,
    then, the Creature is telling Victor that he has broken the contract that God had
    made with Adam.
  • 1011

  • a bad conscience

    The state of Victor's conscience is borne out by the perturbed dreams that, as he
    will report in the last paragraph of this chapter, continually afflict him in sleep.

  • 1013

  • beautiful in nature . . . sublime . . . of man At this point it is clear that it is Clerval, "the image of [Victor's] former self"
    (III:2:3) who retains this responsiveness to his natural surroundings. This is exemplified
    in the previous chapter with his enthusiastic reaction to the Rhine valley (III:1:19).
    His citing of both the beautiful and the sublime in this sentence may point the reader
    less to Victor—who sees himself no longer able to respond fully to either—than to
    a sense of inclusiveness, at once aesthetic and intellectual, that Mary Shelley seems
    to be associating with a fully realized human being.
  • 951

  • unlike what I have since found cottagers and farm-house servants to be

    As with her earlier treatment of Justine Moritz, Mary Shelley seems unable to keep
    a certain class bias from entering her discourse. In the case of Alphonse Frankenstein
    (I:6:36 and note) this may be something of a key to his character; but the Creature's
    emphasis on gentility after six weeks of existence might seem ill-conceived to some
    readers. It would appear, however, that the author is trying to suggest the Creature's
    own natural gentility rather than an innate snobbery in him.