1218

  • maladie du pays Home-sickness. Why Victor should lapse into his native tongue here, the single such
    instance in his lengthy account to Walton, is a mystery. Perhaps it is meant as another
    instance of his euphemisms, suggestive of an essential insincerity in his representation
    of his motives.
  • 1217

  • I can make you so wretched Resuming the earlier play on the meanings of "wretch" and "wretched," the Creature
    once again turns Victor's own terminology back on him.
  • 1216

  • its majestic assemblage of towers, and spires, and domes

    Oxford is famous for the way in which the structures of the university rise above
    other features of the landscape to dominate the horizon. In the late nineteenth century
    Thomas Hardy paints an enduring picture of the young Jude Fawley, the hero of Jude
    the Obscure who has mythicized what is there denominated Christminster, venturing
    far out of his village and climbing a ladder at sunset with the hope of making out
    this far-off object of all his desires:

    Some way within the limits of the stretch of landscape, points of light like the topaz
    gleamed. The air increased in transparency with the lapse of minutes, till the topaz
    points showed themselves to be the vanes, windows, wet roof slates, and other shining
    spots upon the spires, domes, freestone-work, and varied outlines that were faintly
    revealed. It was Christminster, unquestionably; either directly seen, or miraged in
    the peculiar atmosphere.

    The spectator gazed on till the windows and vanes lost their shine, going out almost
    suddenly like extinguished candles. The vague city became veiled in mist. (I.iii)

  • 1215

  • the main land The Orkney Islands begin just north of John O'Groats, the point of Caithness that
    is commonly considered the northernmost point in the United Kingdom. There are several
    small islands between this village and Pomona, the largest of the Orkneys. Exactitude
    is impossible here, however, because Pomona is itself popularly known as Mainland.
  • 1214

  • magistrate . . . benevolent man As a magistrate, Mr. Kirwin, who treats all people with equity and compassion, contrasts
    with the Geneva judges who condemned Justine Moritz to death (I:7:14) as well as the
    rigged Paris tribunal that pronounced a like sentence on Safie's father (II:6:3).
    There is likewise to be observed here a curious symmetry, since at the other end of
    Victor's trip to the British Isles is another magistrate who, in effect, authorized
    it, Alphonse Frankenstein.
  • 1213

  • my mad schemes are the cause The notion of madness, encountered frequently in the late chapters of the novel,
    has been associated almost entirely with Victor Frankenstein's disturbed mental state.
    This small shift in rhetoric for the 1831 edition, coming as it does eight paragraphs
    after Victor's impassioned questioning of Walton's naive desire to know "the particulars
    of his creature's formation" ("Are you mad, my friend . . . ?"—see III:Walton:3 and
    note), suggests that, for this novel, madness may be less a matter of actual derangement
    than it is a kind of violation of accepted codes of social conduct whereby the individual
    becomes isolated from the community and communal obligations. Its closest synonymn
    might then be "solipsism," which is an issue with deep roots within Romanticism and
    one that is stressed in these final pages of Frankenstein.
  • 1212

  • a maddening rage The language seems scrupulously chosen to indicate a transference of madness into
    the obsession of revenge: which is to say that, though his vindictiveness allows Victor
    to focus his mind wholly on this pursuit, the aim may nonetheless be construed as
    insane. After the death of Elizabeth and his father, Victor seems not so much to recover
    his mental health as to concentrate his madness.
  • 1211

  • the mad enthusiasm As elsewhere in these paragraphs the candor of Victor's language is unexpected and
    surprising. Earlier in his narration he has used "enthusiasm" as an apology, even
    perhaps as a cover for his lack of responsibility (see I:3:3, I:3:8, I:3:14, and III:2:21).
    This linking of his obsession with creating life to a state of madness will be reinforced
    near the end of the novel where Victor will reflect on his endeavor as a "fit of enthusiastic
    madness" (III:Walton:28).
  • 1210

  • Are you mad . . . ? Alphonse Frankenstein had raised exactly the same question with Victor at the beginning
    of the fifth chapter (III.5.5), and the Genevan magistrate seems to have been assured
    of the matter from his interview at the end of the sixth (III.6.28). For readers who
    by this point in the novel might well have come to the same conclusion, Victor's questioning
    of Walton's mental stability would venture on the absurd. From the larger perspective
    of the novel's development, however, the strange echo emphasizes how relative, given
    the acute isolation in which its three male protagonists have come to exist, have
    become all grounds of reason and normalcy.
  • 1209

  • I should be supposed mad Given the past consequences on his friends and family of Victor's silence, particularly
    in his never explaining to Clerval the possible danger to his existence from accompanying
    him to Britain, Victor's continuing reticence seems perverse. Yet, at the same time,
    when he is driven at last to depose himself to the law, the fact that he is treated
    with patronizing incredulity and wholly exonerated from any responsibility for the
    wake of destruction that has visited his family circle (see III:6:24), is a subtle
    touch on Mary Shelley's part. Conventional human expectation, of necessity, protects
    itself from whatever is beyond its normal range of experience.