850

  • open country

    The supposition is that the Creature has been able to remain within the general confines
    of woodlands during this three-day passage. Now, he comes out into the open—which
    is to say, into arable ground. Unwittingly, he is stumbling upon his first contacts
    with human society.

  • 851

  • the original æra of my being

    To compare the creature's sense of his original identity with that contained in the
    opening sentence (I:1:1) of Victor Frankenstein's narrative is to mark a dramatic
    contrast in self-conception and cultural endowment. Also, as has often been noted,
    a second and striking context exists between these first memories and those of Adam
    in representing himself to the Archangel Raphael in Paradise Lost (VIII.250-96).

  • 852

  • Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply

    The various relations of intercourse within normative family structures are a new
    category of experience that the creature studies without being able to enact.

  • 853

  • our house at Belrive

    It was here, at the family's country house, that Victor had witnessed lightning strike
    the ancient oak when he was fifteen (I:1:22).

  • 855

  • Pardon this intrusion

    These are the first words that the Creature has ever uttered. As with the unexpected
    control of his opening remark to Victor (II:2:7), one is taken aback by their sophistication.

  • 856

  • partly urged by curiosity

    "Partly from curiosity" Victor wandered into Professor Waldman's lecture and thence
    into the scientific career that culminated in the birth of his Creature (I:2:14).
    As this instance may indicate, the import of this essential human attribute for good
    and bad—other examples will be found in I:L1:2, I:L4:11, I:L4:31, I:1:22, and I:7:1—has
    been emphasized throughout the first volume of Frankenstein.

  • 857

  • the past was blotted from my memory

    This spring appears to wipe the slate clean for Victor in Ingolstadt as well (I:4:19).
    For the Creature, no less than for Victor Frankenstein, however, the past cannot be
    so easily forgotten.

  • 858

  • the path of my departure was free

    The Creature here quotes back to Victor a line from Percy Shelley's "Mutability" that
    Victor had mused over that morning in ascending Montanvert (II:2:3). Although this
    does stretch the imagination, it is indisputably another instance of the mirror effects
    we discern in the relations of Creator and Creature.

  • 859

  • the patriarchal lives of my protectors

    That is, a family where seniority is honored for its wisdom and the generations respect
    and support each other provides a model for a civilized community.

  • 860

  • pines

    Although we have no guide to Mary Shelley's thought processes as she wrote this passage,
    it is probable that the stanza from Percy Shelley's poetry she quotes at the end of
    the paragraph caused her to think of another from the volume in which it was published
    (or the causality might have been reversed, with that other passage first coming to
    mind and prompting the remembrance of this stanza): whatever the case, this description
    of mountain conifers strongly resembles the desolate final scene, actually drawn from
    Shelley's experiences in Wales before he met Mary, of his poem "Alastor" (see lines
    550-70). An early sketch of this same subject is contained in a poem in the early
    notebook known as the Esdaile Notebook, a poem Shelley wrote in 1811 and never published,
    called after its first line "Dark spirit of the desart rude."

    On the other hand, the scenery of Switzerland, far more sublime than that of Wales,
    afforded ample opportunity for Mary Shelley to observe the desolation that alpine
    storms and glacial movement could visit on the pine forests of the mountains. There
    is a description of such shattered trees in Letter 4 of A History of Six Weeks' Tour.
    Byron offers another such passage in the second scene of Manfred, I.ii.66-74, which,
    though begun later than Frankenstein, indicates at many points a common conceptual
    origin.