Here Victor has not only demonized his Creature but has cast him in an adversarial
role, not acknowledging at this point that hatred can be as powerful a passion as
love and that antagonism can define a relationship with as enduring bonds as those
produced through affection. That this most distant of objectified namings coincides
with an almost hysterical sense of relief, indeed of liberation, for Victor suggests
the subtlety of Mary Shelley's psychological understanding. This is a moment of major
moral significance for the development of the novel.

Alphonse Frankenstein in the last sentence of the previous chapter admonished the
members of his household to rely on the court's impartiality (see I:6:44). Now that
the court has decided against Justine, he acquiesces in its pronouncement of her guilt
and sees the family suffering as brought to its term. It is hard not to see such a
compartmentalizing of human behavior as having some effect on Victor's habitual distancing
of himself from his emotional obligations and his duties to his Creature.

Victor's language, after so many months of silence, is transparently insincere. Since
Clerval does not seem to notice, perhaps Victor does not either. Victor, however,
has himself already expressed the terms of his own indictment for such neglect of
his loved ones: see I:3:10.

That Victor is capable of responding to Walton's open desire for his friendship by
reciprocating it implicitly suggests that there is a measure of free will still possible
in the universe, even in that small portion of it that constitutes his own ruined
existence. His recognition of the value of Walton's sympathy also underscores the
significance this emotion will assume throughout the novel

Here the geographical contrast is made sharply clear: east and west divide along a
rigid gender demarcation. That Mary Shelley so conspicuously calls attention to Victor's
gender stereotyping here allows the reader to be sensitive to it elsewhere in his
discourse without feeling that the text is being stretched to support a feminist interpretation
foreign to it.

Mary Shelley has already prepared for Walton's receptivity to Victor's story, since
in the narrative he acknowledges to his sister, "there is a love for the marvellous,
a belief in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects" (I:L2:6). In the context
in which Mary Shelley was writing, an apt synonym for the word would be "romantic."

Just such an event happened early on in the expedition of Sir John Ross, as the Victory
was dismasted in a gale on 14 June 1829. An engraving of this appears opposite page
32 in Sir John Ross, Narrative of a Second Voyage in Search of a north-west passage
and of a residence in the Arctic Regions, during the Years 1829, 1830, 1831, 1832,
and 1833 (London: Webster, 1835).

The stress on mathematics seems curious, given Victor's interests in occult and magical
lore. Still, Albertus Magnus was best known as a mathematician, and his disciple could
be expected to follow the master's bent. Perhaps Mary Shelley also wishes to direct
our attention to an underlying inclination to abstraction in Victor that will account
for his tendency to isolate himself from family obligations.

Mathematics is the one area of the scientific disciplines in which Victor already
excels (I:1:26 and note).

This interpolation in the 1831 text seems innocent enough, perhaps designed to show
that the young Victor Frankenstein is on the path to a mature respect for a scientific
discipline and those who practice it. On closer examination, however, this seemingly
innocent remark begins to build a foundation for a vexing issue in the novel: the
extent to which Victor's attempt to condition his rhetoric to the interests of his
listener is merely manipulative and thus, whatever its appearance, not wholly to be
trusted. As the novel progresses, this narrative indeterminacy will touch most of
its major characters.