1350

  • soon lost amid the waves The Creature disappears not only with the same superhuman speed but also in much
    the same language as accompanied his previous departure from Victor's ken, on the
    Mer de Glace below Mont Blanc (see II:9:18).
  • 1349

  • wishing for some mighty revolution Victor's desire for an externally applied apocalyptic solution that will break the
    logical circle he cannot escape is as characteristic of him as the passivity into
    which he actually retreats from the stress of events. Still, his figure resonates
    against his contrasting application of the turning wheel a few paragraphs earlier
    (see III:4:12 and note), where its every revolution was conceived as bringing new
    calamities upon him.

    The term "mighty revolution" cannot but retain some of its political charge in the
    context of post-Napoleonic Europe, particularly if connected to the world of undiscriminated
    wretchedness that Victor had been contemplating before Mr. Kirwin entered to prepare
    him for his father's arrival (III:4:21).

  • 1348

  • some destiny Victor's perhaps unconscious withdrawal into vague euphemism to match his father's
    rhetoric here strongly suggests a lack of candor. It also indicates that, however
    self-accusing he may be, he has accepted no real responsibility for the actions of
    his Creature.
  • 1347

  • the solitude I coveted

    Although, of course, Victor will need to pursue his scientific labors by himself,
    the verb "coveted" conveys a sense of profound asociality as a crucial aspect of Victor's
    constitution. However eagerly he expresses his anticipation of returning to find fulfillment
    in his union with Elizabeth, what his father praises as "our domestic calm" at this
    point in the 1818 edition seems wholly to lack the capacity to satisfy Victor.

  • 1346

  • smothered voice A year after the Creature's long narration beneath Mont Blanc and after several chapters
    devoted to Victor's egocentric ruminations in the interim, we are here sharply reminded
    of the Creature's inner life that Victor refuses to acknowledge. In modern parlance
    the Creature is engaged at this point in a deliberate repression of his anger. As
    in their previous encounter Victor notably outrants his Creature.
  • 1345

  • smooth and placid as a southern sea Victor's only experience of a southern sea would appear to have come at the beginning
    of this last trip in pursuit of the Creature, embarked on from a French Mediterranean
    port (III:7:9). On its surface his sardonic comment roundly indicts the crew for moral
    and spiritual laxity. Yet, on second thought, an even stronger counterforce ironically
    deflates the surface terms. This ironic inversion begins as we recognize the considerable
    negative connotations from earlier in the novel already adhering to this celebration
    of the "glorious" (I:L1:6 and note, I:L2:3 and note, and III:Walton:6 and note). On
    top of those resonances, the reference to "a southern sea" should remind the knowledgeable
    reader of the last voyage undertaken by Ulysses and his crew in search of glory, a
    voyage that took them far into the unknown southern sea where their ship foundered.
    This is the subject of Canto 26 of Dante's Inferno, which is likewise the source upon
    which Tennyson depended for his dramatic monologue, "Ulysses," written in 1833. In
    Dante's rendition of this story, for all his heroic posturing, Ulysses has led his
    men to their death for nothing beyond a meaningless personal glory. For this act of
    essential treachery he is lodged near the bottom of hell for eternity.

    It is worth remarking that, in her draft of this passage, Mary Shelley originally
    wrote "summer lake," and the phrase "southern sea" was inserted above it in P. B.
    Shelley's hand. This interpolation, of course, would have had to have been agreed
    to by Mary Shelley, presumably after some discussion of the appropriateness of the
    intertextual context the phrase evokes.

  • 1344

  • my slavery

    This term is ominous for Victor's future relations with his Creature. It also considerably
    darkens the construction of what Victor sees as his destiny, also of how he comprehends
    the nature of imitative behavior, for he appears to think it achieved not through
    emulation but, rather, through the exercise of coercion.

  • 1343

  • during which I was the slave of my creature

    The new terminology for Victor's relationship with the Creature, introduced four paragraphs
    earlier (III:1:9), returns with augmented stress. The underlying notion of slavery
    includes not just bondage but an absence of willed responsibility. Victor thus appears
    to be distancing himself from his recognition of the awesome obligations of a deity
    with which the second volume closed (II:9:18).

  • 1342

  • I was the slave, not the master The Creature reverts to the terms of his last confrontation of Victor Frankenstein,
    when he called Victor his slave and demanded his obedience (III:3:11 and note). The
    effect of this recantation, however, is not so much the simple reversal the diction
    connotes, as an erasure of the polarizing of his terms. Both he and Victor were slaves,
    mastered alike by their antagonism.
  • 1341

  • a sister or a brother In terms of Mary Shelley's biography, this may be a revealing, if somewhat odd, statement.
    Mary Shelley was the sole child of William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, conceived
    before they were officially married and then left motherless by Wollstonecraft's death.
    She had three step-siblings: Fanny Imlay, the daughter of Mary Wollstonecraft and
    the American Gilbert Imlay, who committed suicide in 1817 while Mary was still engaged
    in the writing of Frankenstein; and Charles and Claire Clairmont, children of the
    first marriage of Godwin's second wife Mary Jane Clairmont. Because of their gender
    and nearness of age, Mary and Claire were thrown much together and experienced considerable
    sibling friction. Claire's unacknowledged pregnancy by Lord Byron was the driving
    force behind the 1816 journey to Geneva, and when her condition became known it fell
    largely to Mary to see her through the pregnancy without scandal. From this point
    on, for the next five years, Claire lived with the Shelleys both in England and Italy.
    Whatever words Victor speaks here, it is clear that Mary's closeness to her step-sister
    generally increased the suspiciousness with which she regarded Claire's motives and
    actions.