The repetition of a note of disparagement ("merely weaving," "a mere tale") in this
and the succeeding sentence indicate that Shelley is seeking from the first to distance
Frankenstein from the tradition of popular gothic fiction to which, in his own adolescence,
he had contributed two outlandish examples, Zastrozzi and St. Irvyne, both published
in 1810.

This turnabout is as improbable as it is unexpected, since Clerval's father's incomprehension
of a world beyond his account books was stressed in I:2:5, where Henry "bitterly lamented"
being excluded from the kind of opportunity afforded Victor.

The public realm of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is so insistently masculine that the
reader must construe this as a deliberate aspect of the novel's construction. The
wholly male crew of the ship will, later in the first volume, be replicated in the
exclusively male ambience of the University of Ingolstadt and the more narrow and
even sinister magistracy of Geneva. By the second volume the novel's main characters
have committed themselves and the novel to a homosocial bonding of enormous force.

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.

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

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.

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).

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."

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.

The lieutenant, earlier introduced by Walton as a person who "retains some of the
noblest endowments of humanity" (I:L2:4), perhaps naturally thinks of the Creature
within a conventional human framework, twice referring to him as a "man." This nomenclature
will change radically as Victor seizes the discourse and begins to define its categories.