1288

  • perished Victor's digression, although it moves at last into the uncertainties of question
    marks, foreshadows the plot with a heavy ominousness. We perhaps have forgotten by
    this point that on this issue there has been a much earlier foreshadowing, as in I:L4:26.
  • 1287

  • That then was the period The "then" reveals Victor distancing himself from the sense that there will be any
    immediate consequences to his act. His susceptibility to dismiss, or just miss, the
    logical point, however, is not so much the result of chronic thick-headedness as it
    is the effect of the egotism through which he filters all experience. His characteristic
    assignment of a "destiny" to himself likewise testifies as much to his sense of self-importance
    as to the determinism by which he attempts to deflect moral responsibility for his
    actions from himself.
  • 1286

  • the most perfect solitude

    If the reader regards this phrase ironically, it would seem commensurate (or nearly
    so) with death. The last third of Frankenstein is dominated by the withdrawal of its
    protagonists behind psychic barricades that wall them off increasingly from the forces
    of life. Again, one senses the context of P.B. Shelley's recently-published Alastor;
    or, The Spirit of Solitude behind Mary Shelley's text.

  • 1285

  • the peasant The powerless of this unlanded peasant before the forces of state power probably
    reflects the devastation of Europe during the last phase of the Napoleonic Wars. However
    self-serving or self-pitying we may find Victor's comparison, its political edge is
    unmistakable and is perhaps intended by Mary Shelley, like other incidental political
    observations in the novel, to insinuate a viewpoint that could not be explicitly stated
    in the political climate of England in 1818.
  • 1284

  • I may still be misled by passion A final insistence on a continuing revision of the text, this phrase suggests that
    even at the end Victor cannot be sure that he responds to anything concerning his
    own situation with total disinterestedness. His frank admission is touching in its
    expression of a simple, unapologetic humanity.
  • 1283

  • I wished to be participated

    This curious locution calls attention to itself, and it would seem purposefully so,
    as being distinctively Miltonic. It is a verb used by Adam in Paradise Lost when pleading
    with God to create a second being with whom he can share his existence:      

    Of fellowship I speak
    Such as I seek, fit to participate
    All rational delight: wherein the brute
    Cannot be human consort. (VIII.389-92)

  • 1282

  • I would rather . . . friendless outcast over the earth Here, as Victor recognizes how wholly inverted was truth from expectation, the ironies
    become heavy indeed, for, however extreme his rhetoric, he seems wholly unconscious
    that this is the fate he has bestowed upon his Creature. And given that what he utters
    here comes with the burden of a sudden shift to the total retrospect of Walton's cabin,
    he seems strangely unable to acknowledge that this is the fate he has bestowed upon
    himself as well. From a few days after the marriage onward, Victor does, in fact,
    desert Switzerland for ever to pursue the Creature far and wide across national borders,
    the two of them sharing a state of permanent "exile."
  • 1281

  • our circle will be small Alphonse seems incapable of thinking outside the terms of an enclosed, bourgeois
    family unit. It is his point of stable reference throughout the novel (see also I:1:28,
    I:6:2).
  • 1280

  • one of the remotest of the Orkneys The Orkney Islands, or Orcades, long a Norse dependency, were joined to Scotland
    in 1472. There are eight principal islands, as well as other smaller ones of the type
    Victor chooses: in all, the group amounts to seventy islands.
  • 1279

  • offspring of solitude and delirium Walton is taking very seriously the notion of the living dead whom Victor accounted
    a "guiding spirit" (III:7:26 and note) as he embarked on the Arctic ice fields. Yet
    what he appears to be telling his sister and her readers here is that Victor's only
    solace is in madness, and that for so deeply alienated a creature madness is preferable
    to sanity. If by this statement he is recognizing that Victor is actually mad, it
    raises considerable questions about what constitutes the truth contained by either
    narrative—Victor's, certainly, but also his own which relies exclusively on Victor's
    for its authority.