I was born in Naples, Italy, and my family is one of the most distinguished Swiss families. There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, but this circumstance united them only closer.
When I was about five years old, my parents passed a week on the shores of the Lake of Como. They often entered the cottages of the poor. This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a necessity, a passion. One day my mother found a peasant and his wife and five hungry babes. Among these there was a girl which attracted my mother. This child was thin and very fair. Her hair was the brightest living gold. Her brow was clear and ample, her blue eyes cloudless, and her lips and her face expressive of sensibility and sweetness.
The peasant woman eagerly communicated her history. She was not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her mother died. The infant was with these good people to nurse. The father of that girl wanted to obtain the liberty of his country. He became the victim of its regime. His property was confiscated; his child became an orphan and a beggar.
When my father returned from Milan, my parents adopted that girl. They loved the sweet orphan very much. Elizabeth Lavenza became my sister.
We lived together. Harmony was the soul of our companionship. Elizabeth was calm and concentrated. While my companion contemplated with a serious and satisfied spirit of things, I wanted to investigate their causes. The world was to me a secret which I desired to understand.
On the birth of a second son, my parents came to their native country. We possessed a house in Geneva, and a villa on the eastern shore of the lake. I was indifferent to my school-fellows in general; but I had a friend among them. Henry Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva. He was a boy of talent and fancy. He loved enterprise, hardship, and even danger. He composed heroic songs and began to write knightly tales.
My temper was violent, and my passions vehement. I wanted to learn. It was the secrets of heaven and earth, the physical secrets of the world that I desired to learn.
Meanwhile Clerval occupied himself with the moral relations of things[8]. The busy stage of life, the virtues of heroes, and the actions of men were his theme. The saintly soul of Elizabeth shone in our peaceful home. Her sympathy was ours; her smile, her soft voice, the sweet glance of her celestial eyes, were there to bless and animate us.
Natural philosophy has regulated my fate. I liked to read the works of Agrippa, Paracelsus and Magnus. I read and studied the works of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures. I believed them, and I became their disciple. Under the guidance of my new preceptors I began to look for the philosopher’s stone and the elixir of life. I wanted to banish disease from the humankind and save the people from death!
My favourite authors promised to call the ghosts or devils. If my incantations were always unsuccessful, I attributed the failure to my own inexperience and mistake.
When I was about fifteen years old we moved to our house near Belrive. My tormenting studies led to the evil. Destiny was potent, and its immutable laws decreed my terrible destruction.
When I was seventeen I became a student at the university of Ingolstadt. My departure was fixed, but then the first misfortune of my life occurred – an omen of my future misery.
Elizabeth caught the scarlet fever[9]. Her illness was severe, and she was in danger. My mother could not control her anxiety. She attended her sickbed. Elizabeth was saved, but the sickness was fatal to her saviour. On the third day my mother sickened. On her deathbed this best of women joined the hands of Elizabeth and myself.
“My children,” she said, “Alas! I regret that I go away from you. Love each other, I hope to meet you in another world.”
She died calmly. The day of my departure for Ingolstadt at length arrived. Clerval spent the last evening with us. He persuaded his father to permit him to accompany me and to become my fellow student, but in vain. His father was a trader.
My journey to Ingolstadt was long and fatiguing. At length I saw the high white steeple of the town. The next morning I delivered my letters of introduction[10] and paid a visit to some professors. Chance – or rather the Angel of Destruction – led me to M. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy. He was an uncouth man, but an excellent scientist. He wrote down a list of several books on natural philosophy for me to read.
M. Krempe gave me information about the lectures of M.Waldman. So I went into the lecturing room, which M. Waldman entered shortly after. This professor was very unlike his colleague. He was about fifty. A few grey hairs covered his temples. His person was short but remarkably erect and his voice was sweet.
“The ancient teachers of this science,” said he, “promised impossibilities and performed nothing. The modern masters promise very little. They know that metals cannot be transmuted and that the elixir of life is a chimera but these philosophers have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate into the recesses of nature and show how it works. They ascend into the heavens. They have discovered how the blood circulates, and the nature of the air we breathe.”
Such were the professor’s words. Soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose. The soul of Frankenstein exclaimed: I will achieve more, far more. I will explore unknown powers and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.
I did not close my eyes that night. After the morning’s dawn, sleep came. I awoke. I wanted to return to my ancient studies. On the same day I visited M. Waldman. His manners were even more mild and attractive. He smiled at the names of Cornelius, Agrippa and Paracelsus. He said,
“These men helped modern philosophers a lot. They left to us an easy task. The labours of men of genius lead to the advantage of mankind.”
I asked him about the books to read.
“I am happy,” said M. Waldman, “to have a disciple. If your application equals your ability, I have no doubt of your success. If you wish to become a real scientist and not merely an experimentalist, I advise you to study every branch of natural philosophy, including mathematics.”
He then took me into his laboratory and explained to me the uses of his various machines. He also gave me the list of books. That day decided my future destiny.
From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, became my sole occupation. I read with ardour those works, I attended the lectures. In M. Waldman I found a true friend. In a thousand ways he smoothed for me the path of knowledge and made the most abstruse inquiries clear and facile.
My progress was rapid. Two years passed in this manner, during which I did not come to Geneva. I hoped to make great discoveries.
One of the phenomena which peculiarly attracted my attention was the structure of the human body. Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life come? It was a bold question. I began to study physiology. My application to this study was irksome and almost intolerable. To examine the causes of life, we must first examine death. I studied the science of anatomy, but this was not sufficient. I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body!
I was not afraid of darkness, and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies, which became food for the worm. Now I wanted to examine the cause and progress of this decay and spent days and nights in vaults. I saw how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted. I beheld the corruption of death; I saw how the worm inherited the eye and brain.
Remember, I am not a madman. After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I discovered the cause of life. Moreover, I knew how to animate the lifeless matter.
The astonishment soon gave place to delight and rapture. This discovery was great and overwhelming.
I see, my friend, that you expect to hear that secret. That cannot be. Listen patiently until the end of my story, and you will easily perceive why not.
I found a power within my hands. But where to employ it? I could animate a lifeless body. How to prepare a frame for it? With all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins. I wanted to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. So I began the creation of a human being. I resolved to make the gigantic being, about eight feet in height. I collected and arranged my materials, and then I began.
I was the first man to know the secret of life and death! A new species will bless me as its creator. If I can bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I can renew life.
These thoughts supported my spirits. My cheek were pale with study, and my person was emaciated with confinement. Sometimes I failed; yet still I believed in success. One secret which I alone possessed was my hope to which I dedicated myself. I will be able to animate the lifeless clay! It was indeed a trance. I collected bones from charnel-houses and studies, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary chamber, at the top of the house,
I had my workshop of filthy creation.
The summer months passed. It was a most beautiful season, but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. The great object swallowed up every piece of my nature.
My father inquired into my occupations more particularly than before. Winter, spring, and summer passed away during my labours. But I did not watch the blossom or the leaves – so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation. I appeared rather like a slave than an artist. Sometimes I was alarmed at the wreck I became. The energy of my purpose alone sustained me. My labours will soon end. Exercise and amusement will then drive away incipient disease. Soon my creation will be complete!
On a dreary night of November I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety, I collected the instruments of life around me. I wanted to infuse a spark of life into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one o’clock in the morning. I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature. It breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
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