Frankenstein

Frankenstein

(the Modern Prometheus)

by Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley

Letter 1

To Mrs. Saville, England

St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17--

You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement

of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.

I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister

of my welfare and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking.

I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets

of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks,

which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand

this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions

towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes.

Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent

and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole

is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself

to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There,

Margaret,

the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon

and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There--for with your leave,

my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators--

there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea,

we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty

every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe.

Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena

of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes.

What may not be expected in a country of eternal light?

I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle

and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require

only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever.

I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world

never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted

by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient

to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence

this labourious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks

in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery

up his native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false,

you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer

on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage

near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months

are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which,

if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine.

These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my letter,

and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven,

for nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind

as a steady purpose--a point on which the soul may fix

its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favourite dream

of my early years. I have read with ardour the accounts

of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect

of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas

which surround the pole. You may remember that a history

of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole

of our good Uncle Thomas' library. My education was neglected,

yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study

day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret

which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father's dying injunction

had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.

These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets

whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also became

a poet and for one year lived in a paradise of my own creation;

I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple

where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated.

You are well acquainted with my failure and how heavily

I bore the disappointment. But just at that time I inherited

the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were turned

into the channel of their earlier bent.

Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking.

I can, even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself

to this great enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship.

I accompanied the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea;

I voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep;

I often worked harder than the common sailors during the day

and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine,

and those branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer

might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself

as an under-mate in a Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration.

I must own I felt a little proud when my captain offered me

the second dignity in the vessel and entreated me to remain

with the greatest earnestness, so valuable did he consider my services.

And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish

some great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury,

but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path.

Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative!

My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate,

and my spirits are often depressed. I am about to proceed

on a long and difficult voyage, the emergencies of which

will demand all my fortitude: I am required not only

to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own,

when theirs are failing.

This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia.

They fly quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant,

and, in my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stagecoach.

The cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs--

a dress which I have already adopted, for there is a great difference

between walking the deck and remaining seated motionless for hours,

when no exercise prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins.

I have no ambition to lose my life on the post-road between

St. Petersburgh and Archangel.

I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three weeks;

and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done

by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many sailors

as I think necessary among those who are accustomed to the whale-fishing.

I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return?

Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed,

many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet.

If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.

Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on you,

and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude

for all your love and kindness.

Your affectionate brother,

R. Walton