These exact words were uttered in the previous chapter when the Creature described
burning down the De Lacey's cottage (II:8:13 and note).

In the ongoing education of the Creature this is the point at which he is first able
to conceptualize that refinement of affection that constitutes kindness. As with much
of the ongoing development of his awareness, there is an ironic undertone here, however,
since he will never experience the sort of solicitude that, despite his poverty and
blindness, is the elder De Lacey's daily expectation and comfort.

As was the case three paragraphs earlier, here the Creature evokes essential Enlightenment
values, twice privileging the notion of sympathy, but the affirmations are so hedged
as to be ominous.

A highly resonant shift of language. Elizabeth is forced back on intuition in the
same manner as Victor had been on his return to Geneva (I:6:25). Given the miscarriage
of justice perpetrated by those who convicted Justine on the basis of circumstantial
logic, Elizabeth's intuitive knowledge of the heart seems a preferable means by which
to organize—or to transcend—social institutions. And yet, the contrasting case of
Victor's passion for revenge would suggest how unpredictable, and even dangerous,
such a course might be.

Again, the Creature uncannily picks up on the timbres of Victor's meditations. Compare,
for instance, the first paragraph of this second volume (II:1:1), where Victor reviews
what he considers is a "blasted" existence. There his remorse (note) has much the
same deleterious and lasting effect that the Creature here attributes to knowledge.

That is, the language spoken is German, not the French used by the De Laceys and the
Creature. This relapse appears to bear a symbolic connotation, as the Creature, who
had seen his efforts to acquire language as the key to his being accepted within human
society, is suddenly plunged once again into linguistic incomprehension.

Although the tonality is subtle, the Creature's education along with Safie seems to
have a bonding effect, increasing his original attachment to her. In two months' time
the linguistic disadvantage that is a shared mark of their alienation is assuaged,
preparing them simultaneously for what should be a full social integration.

These works are written, respectively, in Renaissance English, classical Latin, and
modern German. Fortunately for the Creature, they have all been translated into French,
which is of course the language the Creature has acquired through the De Laceys.

As has already been evident in earlier chapters, in Mary Shelley's perspective the
imagination is a power at once of great dynamic force and ethically neutral in its
operations, leading to good or evil ends depending on the psychological framework
in which it exists. The darker side of this mental attribute has been especially invoked
as events in the novel have taken a tragic turn: see, for instance, I:3:7 and note,
I:4:18 and note, I:6:27 and note.

The reader observes a carefully registered journey from the beautiful into the sublime,
from what Elizabeth has proposed as a domestic enclosure, warding off the unimaginable
and protecting the family unit from threat, into another confrontation, at least for
Victor, with elemental nature, with destruction and with fresh creation. The transitional
point of this rite of passage is marked by the village of St. Martin in the Shelleys'
account of their excursion to Chamonix in History of a Six Weeks' Tour.