A (0:00)

Hello and welcome to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm Faith Moore and this season we're reading Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Each episode I'll read a few chapters from the book, pausing from time to time to give brief explanations so it's easier to follow along. It's like an audiobook with built in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time. Hello, welcome back to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm so glad you're here. I hope you're doing well. I have a little bit of a cold and I hope it's not going to affect my voice too much. I've been a little scratchy today, so I just want to let you know that is what's happening. I have a little cold. It's fine. I recorded the chapter earlier so they are completely fine. But in this intro I may be a little scratchy. Sorry about that. All right, moving right along and into this episode. So again, I just want to remind you of these two dates that are coming up. One is Tuesday, October 28th at 8pm Eastern. That is our tea time for October over in the drawing room, which is our online community. And I'm reminding you because in order to join that you need to be a member of the landed gentry tier in the drawing room room. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about, scroll into the show notes and click on the link to the online community and it will tell you more. But I know that some of you are house guests and that's completely fine. You just won't be able to join us for tea time. So if you want to join us for tea time and you've just signed up, make sure that you're landed gentry. If you'd like to join us for tea time and you haven't yet signed up, you should sign up for the landed gentry tier. And tea time is a voice chat. We talk to each other like a group phone call. And this is going to be a really fun one because we will have just finished Frankenstein the day before, so we'll be able to talk about the end of the book and the book as a whole. And you can ask me anything. So we can talk about all kinds of things, not just the book, but we will be talking about the book, Frankenstein, the end of it, and our thoughts and reactions now that the book is done. And you can also ask me anything. So that'll be a really fun tea time. So I hope you can join us on Tuesday, October 28th at 8pm Eastern over in the drawing room. And this is a great time to sign up. If you've been considering it but you haven't been sure if you wanted to, this is a great time. You can find out what tea time is all about and if you hate it, then you can cancel. So check the link in the show notes, click on that and that'll take you to the page where you can sign up if you want to. And I hope to hear some new voices in our chat on the 28th. And of course, I'm really looking forward to chatting with all of my old friends. It's always lots and lots of fun, so I hope to see you there. The other date is coming right up. It's going to come up before I talk to you again. It's October 18th. That's this Saturday. It's when the trailer for our Christmas Spectacular is going to drop. You're going to get a very strange burst of Christmas in your podcast feed, but only if you are subscribed. So please make sure that you're subscribed to the show. Then that trailer will drop. You will find out what our Christmas Spectacular is going to be. It's going to take us through the months of November and December. I'm really excited about it. I've started prepping it already. I cannot wait. It's going to be a really fun shift of gears years from Frankenstein into the Christmas season. And I will talk much more on Monday about it once you've heard the trailer and you know what we're reading. And then of course, there'll be an intro episode and everything, so we'll have a lot to discuss. But I. I think perhaps this choice needs a little bit of explanation. So once you've had the trailer on Monday, I will give that little bit of explanation and I have an announcement. So that announcement will come on Monday. It has to do with the Christmas Spectacular. So once you've heard the trailer, I will let you know a little bit more about that and also make this Christmasy announcement. So Christmas is coming early. It's coming into your podcast feed this Saturday with the trailer and we'll tease it a little bit more in Monday's episode. And then of course, in November, we'll head into the Christmas season with our spectacular. So I'm really excited about what's coming up and I hope you are too. I hope you will let me know once you've heard the trailer what you think about our selection and I hope you'll email me. Of course. As always, it's faith k.moore.com. click on Contact or scroll into the show notes and send me an email. I'd love to hear your reactions to this next pick, but it is not Christmas yet. It is very much spooky season at this point. So we are not going into Christmas yet. We are staying right here in October with Victor and the creature and. And this new being that Victor has apparently agreed to create. So let's get back to it. Okay, so last time we read chapters 17 and 18. Today we're reading chapters 19 and 20. So first, let's just remind ourselves of what happened. And then I have a couple of questions. We'll talk for a little bit, and then we'll get into the chapters. So, okay, here is the recap. Okay, so where we left off, Victor is now our narrator again, and he's faced with this question of whether to grant the monster's request and make him a female counterpart. Initially, he refuses because he feels like this one monster has already caused such bloodshed and tragedy. So what would two monsters do? But the monster argues that the reason he became violent in the first place was because he was so unhappy, and Victor was the cause of this, and so he owes him. And also that if he gets this companion, he'll go away somewhere and there will be no people where he goes, and he will never bother. Bother anyone ever again. So Victor does finally feel some compassion for this monster, but he's also still totally horrified by him when he looks at him. But he does agree to make the female monster because he hopes that this will make the monster go away and never return. The monster says that he'll be watching him and that he'll return when this female is finished and he runs off into the night. Almost immediately, Victor begins to question his decision, and he delays. And he delays. But finally he decides he needs to go to England to do some more research so that he can accomplish his task. His father asks if he wants to marry Elizabeth right away, but Victor feels he has to finish this job first, and then he's going to marry her. And he thinks of his marriage to Elizabeth as kind of like his reward for doing this horrible thing and making this other monster. So Elizabeth gets Clerval to come with Victor, and so the two of them set off for England. Okay, so I'm going to read two comments this time. The first one comes from Kate Copeland. She writes, I'm torn between the two choices that Frankenstein had to make to make his monster a mate or to not. Both will most likely end in tragedy. So how is one to choose? I love that. This story is new to me and I don't know the outcome yet. And this second one, it actually comes from the drawing room community that I was just talking about before. So this person goes by the handle Ellen? I guess so. Ellen writes the creatures speaking of Victor, as God has come to include the swearing by him, my creator, in his promise of vengeance if his request isn't granted. Okay, so Victor has agreed to create this female creature, right? I got a lot of letters this time and last time about whether or not he should do this. And I think the general consensus is basically that we get why the creature wants this. We see his point. We also kind of feel for him being the only one of his kind in all of this, but we also feel like there is basically no way that this ends happily like creating him. A female counterpart is basically one heck of a can of worms. And remember, none of us thought that Victor should have created this being in the first place, right? The first being the creature. We all said unequivocally that this was wrong. And yet now we're sort of like, well, yeah, the creature does kind of deserve to have someone like him. He shouldn't have to be alone. I mean, most of us do feel that the murder of William muddies the water, that he shouldn't get to have this female creature now that he's done this. Maybe. But some of you still think he should. And many of you who think he shouldn't now have written to say that you would have wanted it for him before he killed William. But this is really interesting, right? I mean, no one, not a single person who wrote in said that, yes, creating a creature in a lab is a good idea. I, maybe some of you think it, but you didn't write in, so I can't know that you think that. So we're going with the information we've got, which is that we all felt that creating a creature in a lab was wrong, full stop. But now many of the same people are saying that Victor should, or at least maybe should create another being in a lab. And I think this is wonderful. I think it is so cool. And it's such a testament to what Mary Shelley is doing here. You see, I. I think that there are actually two kind of largely unrelated questions going on in the book. The first is, should we play God? Right? Should we create sentient beings in a lab? Should we circumvent the natural processes of nature? Should we cut out women from the equation of procreation? And all of us said no. Not only no, but we related this scenario to the modern day, to the notion of things like artificial intelligence, artificial wombs, genetic modifications, all sorts of things. And we were like, no to all of that as well, for the most part. But then the creature was created. And the minute it was created, the second question posed itself. And that question was, what is our responsibility to the creature we've created once it's come to life? Now, Mary Shelley, I think, clearly agrees with us about whether you should create a being in a lab. I mean, that's what I get from the narrative that. That she's written. Like, I don't think we're meant to feel that Victor did a good and wonderful thing in creating this creature. So everyone, including the author, is like, no, don't create beings in a lab. Bad idea. But the interesting thing is that the creature that gets created actually is worthy of life. Like, she could have made it so that it was just a zombie. She could have made it so that it was like a robot and didn't have any kind of internal sense of self and would only do what it was programmed to do or something. She could have made it actually evil. Like, it could have come to life and said very clearly, like, yes, hello, I'm going to kill you now and everyone you love, and I'm going to like it, or whatever. And in all of those instances, I think we would have felt that the right thing for Victor to do in that moment was kill it. End the thing he created, undo his mistake. But Shelly doesn't give us that at all. What she gives us is a human being. I mean, in a sense, Victor succeeded spectacularly, right? He created not just an animate being from an inanimate one. He created a complete human being with. And I know a lot of you don't like this, but I do think that narratively, this is what we're meant to understand. He created a completely human being with a soul. And we don't just kill complete human beings with souls. I mean, even if we shouldn't have created them in the first place, we don't have kill them once they're there. Once it is clear that this creature is what it is, it becomes wrong to end it, even though it was also wrong to create it. I mean, what a thorny, beautiful, messy, like, complicated situation. And, I mean, I think one thing we could say is that one reason for not creating human beings in labs is because of exactly this. We won't know what to do with these beings. We Won't know how to fix fit them in to the natural order of things because they are outside the natural order of things. It's that Jurassic park issue again, right? Just because you can do something, it doesn't mean you should. Because once you do, all kinds of other thorny issues present themselves. It's kind of like Pandora's box, right? You weren't supposed to open it. But once you do open it, you can't unopen it. You can't undo it. You have to now operate within a world in which it has been opened. And that's the situation we're in now. The creature never should have existed. But now that it does exist in the way that it exists, meaning as a human being with a soul, we kind of can't say that it shouldn't have existed because now it is its own beautiful and unique thing. This is kind of why I said that these two questions are almost unrelated. I mean, it's really cool and philosophically sort of gritty to connect them. And we could talk about them forever and ever and have a great time doing it. But probably we wouldn't really get anywhere. Because I think the answer to should we create beings in a lab? Is no. But the answer to do we have a responsibility to the beings we do create in a lab? Is yes. And how do we ever connect those two ideas? And that's kind of the issue we're faced with now in terms of this female creature. Because clearly the answer to should we create another creature in a lab? Is no, if the answer to should we create any creature in a lab is no. But if the answer to do we have a responsibility to the creatures we do create? Is yes, then creating another being so that this creature isn't completely alone and friendless in the world feels like it falls into that category. The creature's point is that because he is really just like other men, he needs what other men need, which is companionship and love. Here is what he must create. A female for me with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being, right? Necessary for my being. And I mean, yes. Think about yourself. Could you live without connection to any human being? Could you live hated by the entire human race? Could you live if people screamed and tried to kill you on sight? I mean, yes, you could stay alive, but would you want to? If the creature is a being who is essentially like you and like me, then he needs the same kind of human connection that we need. And the fact that the creature has now Descended into murder is, according to the creature, the direct result of this complete abandonment by and hatred from the world. Okay, here's what he I am malicious because I am miserable, okay? And even though we can't condone the murder, I think we can see that that is true, that he was good and loving and kind and hated murder and all of this, and that it was the toilet, total abandonment and neglect and the hatred he felt from everyone around him that caused him to become what he is now. And like we talked about last time, the creature has decided to embrace his monster identity, right? I mean, that's the thing. He is human, but he isn't. He thinks and feels like a human, but he doesn't look like a human. And he wasn't made like a human, so he isn't human. And his choices are to try to be as human like as he possibly can, or to totally reject humanity altogether. He tried the first thing and it didn't work out, so now he's trying the second thing. And what he's saying is that he recognizes now that he's not human, and so he wants another not human to spend his life with. Here's what he what I ask of you is reasonable and moderate. I demand a creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself. The gratification is small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me. It is true we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world, but on that account we shall be more attached to one another. Our lives will not be happy, but they will be harmless and free from the misery I now feel. And I mean, I don't know about you, but it's kind of hard for me to argue with this, right? And even Victor, who all this time has just been completely unwilling to see that perhaps it was his neglect that caused these problems, not the creature's inherent evil. Even Victor is suddenly kind of like, oh, maybe this guy has a point. Here's what he I was moved. I shuddered when I thought of the possible consequences of my consent. But I felt that there was some justice in his argument. His tale and the feelings he now expressed proved him to be a creature of fine sensations. And did I not, as his maker, owe him all the portion of happiness that it was in my power to bestow? I mean, this is what we've been saying all along, right? It feels like a bad idea. But also, the creature has a point. But what's interesting here in Victor's reaction is that he still doesn't see that it was his initial neglect that caused all of this. He's like, hmm, okay, well, maybe I owe him something now. But he doesn't think, oh, gosh, maybe I owed him something then, and if I hadn't abandoned him, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation. So while I can't condone the monster's actions, I actually still am Team Monster, because I blame Victor for the monster's descent into monstrosity. But it all does come back around to whether or not we should play God, because as Ellen points out in her letter, the creature has no other God but Victor. Okay? The God of the Bible is inaccessible to him. At least he feels that he is. I don't know if that's actually true, but for the creature, the only God he knows is Victor, and he really does view him as his God. He says, here's a quote. I swear to you by the earth which I inhabit and by you that made me. He also calls this request he's making for a female counterpart a prayer. He says, if you grant my prayer right, not my request or my demand, but my prayer prayer. So Victor is God to the creature. So making him a female counterpart is like God making Eve for Adam. But of course, nothing Victor touches goes, right? Because he isn't God. He's a man, and men should not play God. So, like Kate says in her letter, it's kind of like neither option has any chance of success. But Victor does agree to do it, largely, I think, out of fear. The creature says that he'll kill everyone that Victor loves if he doesn't do this, and that he'll go away and live quietly with his Eve, essentially, if he does do it. So Victor gives in and he agrees to do again the thing which he has lamented doing for basically the entire book after he did it. Is he right to do it? I mean, no. And also yes. Right. But I do want to point out one very quick last thing, and that is the continuation of the parallels between Victor and the creature, because Victor also is about to have a female counterpart, right? I mean, the minute that Victor gets back from this little chat with the creature, his father is like, how about you marry Elizabeth, like, right now? Okay, so both of them are getting married. Essentially, both of them are joining in union with a member of the opposite sex. And Victor feels that he can't do this himself until he's done it for the creature. Okay? Here's what he. I must perform my engagement and let the monster depart with his mate before I allow myself to enjoy the delight of A union from which I expect peace. Okay, so the monster is going to get a mate, and Victor is going to get a mate. And again, I mean, no one in the book has really said anything about it, at least not yet. But both of these unions have a purpose. Both Victor and the creature are saying that these unions are for connection, for love, for fellow feeling a sense of belonging to someone else. But both of them can also potentially do something else. Right? The thing that Victor bypassed, the thing that is natural and beautiful and good. Procreation via human reproduction. Women mean babies, ladies and gentlemen. Victor and Elizabeth could do this naturally and create human beings who belong in the world. But the creature and his mate, if they reproduced, would be creating more of these beings that never should have been. And what will that mean for them, for Victor, and basically for the world? Okay, well, it all remains to be seen. Right now, they're in England. Victor and Henry are in England. So Shelley has kind of brought her story, which was taking place somewhere else. She's brought it now to her native land for this new event, the creation of a female being. So we have to find out what is going to happen next. Of course. Write to me. It's faithkmoore.com, click on Contact or scroll into the show notes and click the link that's there. I would love to hear what you are thinking about after this introduction or what you're thinking about after these next two chapters. I would love your reactions and your thoughts, and I would love to hear your reactions to the trailer and the book that we're going to be reading after this. So lots to check in about. So please do write to me. And as I say, on Monday we'll talk a little bit about the Christmas Spectacular. And I have an announcement. So I will see you then. I cannot wait. All right, let's get started with chapters 19 and 20 of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. It's story time. Chapter 19. London was our present point of rest. We determined to remain several months in this wonderful and celebrated city. Clerval desired the intercourse of the men of genius and talent who flourished at this time. But this was with me a secondary object. I was principally occupied with the means of obtaining the information necessary for the completion of my promise, and quickly availed myself of the letters of introduction that I had brought, with me, addressed to the most distinguished natural philosophers. If this journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness, it would have afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had come over my existence, and I only visited these people for the sake of the information they might give me on the subject in which my interest was so terribly profound. Company was irksome to me when alone I could fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth. The voice of Henry soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory peace. But busy, uninteresting, joyous faces brought back despair to my heart. I saw an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my fellow men. This barrier was sealed with the blood of William and Justine, and to reflect on the events connected with those names filled my soul with anguish. But in Clerval I saw the image of my former self. He was inquisitive and anxious to gain experience and instruction. The difference of manners which he observed was to him an inexhaustible source of instruction and amusement. So Clerval is engaged and interested in the new people they're meeting and the different customs in England. He was also pursuing an object he had long had in view. His design was to visit India in the belief that he had, in his knowledge of its various languages and in the views he had taken of its society, the means of materially assisting the progress of European colonization and trade in Britain. Only could he further the execution of his plans. He was forever busy, and the only check to his enjoyments was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this as much as possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one who was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by any care or bitter recollection. I often refused to accompany him, alleging another engagement that I might remain alone. I now also began to collect the materials necessary for my new creation. And this was to me like the torture of single drops of water continually falling on the head. Every thought that was devoted to it was an extreme anguish, and every word that I spoke in allusion to it caused my lips to quiver and my heart to palpitate. After passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person in Scotland who had formerly been our visitor at Geneva. He mentioned the beauties of his native country and asked us if those were not sufficient allurements to induce us to prolong our journey as far north as Perth, where he resided. Clerval eagerly desired to accept this invitation, and I, although I abhorred society, wished to view again mountains and streams and all the wondrous works which nature adorns, her chosen dwelling place, places. We had arrived in England at the beginning of October, and it was now February. We Accordingly determined to commence our journey towards the north at the expiration of another month in this expedition, we did not intend to follow the great road to Edinburgh, but to visit Windsor, Oxford, Matlock and the Cumberland Lakes. Resolving to arrive at the completion of this tour about the end of July, I packed up my chemical instruments and the materials I had collected, resolving to finish my labors in some obscure nook in the northern Highlands of Scotland. We quitted London on 27 March, and remained a few days at Windsor, rambling in its beautiful forest. This was a new scene to us mountaineers. The majestic oaks, the quantity of game and the herds of stately deer were all novelties to us. From thence we proceeded to Oxford. As we entered this city, our minds were filled with a remembrance of the events that had been transacted there more than a century and a half before. It was here that Charles I had collected his forces. This city had remained faithful to him after the whole nation had forsaken his cause to join the standard of parliament and liberty. The memory of that unfortunate king and his companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent Goring, his queen and son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city which they might be supposed to have inhabited. So he's talking here about the period in British history when the monarchy was briefly overthrown. The spirit of elder days found a dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these feelings had not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of the city had yet in itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration. The colleges are ancient and picturesque, the streets are almost magnificent, and the lovely Isis, which flows beside it through meadows of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a placid expanse of waters which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers and spires and domes embosomed among aged trees. I enjoyed this scene, and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the memory of the past and the anticipation of the future. I was formed for peaceful happiness during my youthful days. Discontent never visited my mind, and if I was ever overcome by ennui. Ennui, meaning boredom. The sight of what is beautiful in nature, or the study of what is excellent and sublime in the productions of man, could always interest my heart and communicate elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree. The bolt has entered my soul. And I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall soon cease to be, a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself. We passed a considerable period at Oxford Rambling among its environs and endeavoring to identify every spot which might relate to the most animating epoch of English history. Our little voyages of discovery were often prolonged by the successive objects that presented themselves. We visited the tomb of the illustrious Hampden and the field on which that patriot fell. So Hampton was an English politician who died fighting for the Parliament in the English Civil War. For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and miserable fears to contemplate the divine ideas of liberty and self sacrifice of which these sites were the monuments and the remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains and look around me with a free and lofty spirit. It but the iron had eaten into my flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self. We left Oxford with regret and proceeded to Matlock, which was our next place of rest. The country in the neighborhood of this village resembled to a greater degree the scenery of Switzerland. But everything is on a lower scale, and the green hills want the crown of distant white Alps, which always attend. On the Piny mountains of my native country we visited the wondrous cave and the little cabinets of natural history, where the curiosities are disposed in the same manner as in the collections of Servo and Chamonix. The latter name made me tremble when pronounced by Henry, and I hastened to quit Matlock, with which that terrible scene was thus associated. So Chamonix is where the monster came to Victor and asked for his female counterpart. So Victor doesn't want to to stay at Matlock, because it reminds him of that place from Derby. Still journeying northwards, we passed two months in Cumberland and Westmoreland. I could now almost fancy myself among the Swiss mountains. The little patches of snow which yet lingered on the northern sides of the mountains, the lakes and the dashing of the rocky streams were all familiar and dear sights to me. Here also we made some acquaintances who almost contrived to cheat me into happiness. This, the delight of Clerval, was proportionably greater than mine. His mind expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found in his own nature greater capacities and resources than he could have imagined himself to have possessed, while he associated with his inferiors. I could pass my life here, said he to me, and among these mountains I should scarcely regret Switzerland and the Rhine. But he found that a traveler's life is one that includes much pain amidst its enjoyments. His feelings are forever on the stretch, and when he begins to sink into repose, he finds himself obliged to quit that on which he rests in pleasure for something new which again engages his attention and which also he forsakes for other novelties. We had scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and conceived an affection for some of the inhabitants, when the period of our appointment with our Scotch friend approached and we left them to travel on. For my own part, I was not sorry. I had now neglected my promise for some time and I feared the effects of the demon's disappointment. He might remain in Switzerland and wreak his vengeance on my relatives. This idea pursued me and tormented me at every moment from which I might otherwise have snatched repose and peace. I waited for my letters with feverish impatience. If they were delayed, I was miserable and overcome by a thousand fears. And when they arrived and I saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to read and ascertain my fate. Meaning he's worried that his father or Elizabeth will be writing to say that someone else has died at the monster's hand. Sometimes I thought that the fiend followed me and might expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. When these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but followed him as his shadow to protect him from the fancied rage of his destroyer. I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal as that of crime time. I visited Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind, and yet that city might have interested the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so well as Oxford, for the antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing to him. But the beauty and regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, its romantic castle and its environs, the most delightful in the world. Arthur's Seat, St Bernard's well, and the Pentland Hills compensated him for the change and filled him with cheerfulness and admiration. But I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey. We left Edinburgh in a week, passing through Cowper, St. Andrews and along the banks of the Tay to Perth, where our friend expected us. But I was in no mood to laugh and talk with strangers or enter into their feelings or plans with the good humour expected from a guest. And accordingly, I told Clerval that I wished to make the tour of Scotland alone. Do you, said I? Enjoy yourself and let this be our rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two, but do not interfere with my motivations. I entreat you, leave me to peace and solitude for a short Time, and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart, more congenial to your own temper. Henry wished to dissuade me, but, seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to remonstrate. He entreated me to write often. I had rather be with you, he said, in your solitary rambles, than with these Scotch people, whom I do not know. Hasten then, my dear friend, to return, and I may again feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence. Having parted from my friend, I determined to visit some remote spot of Scotland and finish my work in solitude. I did not doubt but that the monster followed me and would discover himself to me when I should have finished, that he might receive his companion. With this resolution I traversed the northern Highlands and fixed on one of the remotest of the Orkneys as the scene of my labours. So, the Orkneys are a series of islands off the coast of Scotland. It was a place fitted for such a work, being hardly more than a rock whose high sides were continually beaten upon by the waves. The soil was barren, scarcely affording pasture for a few miserable cows, and oatmeal for its inhabitants, which consisted of five persons whose gaunt and scraggy limbs gave tokens of their miserable fare, vegetables and bread when they indulged in such luxuries. And even fresh water was to be procured from the mainland, which was about five miles distant. On the whole island there were but three miserable huts, and one of these was vacant when I arrived. This I hired. It contained but two rooms, and these exhibited all the squalidness of the most miserable penury. Penury means poverty. The thatch had fallen in, the walls were unplastered, and the door was off its hinges. Cottages. I ordered it to be repaired, bought some furniture, and took possession. An incident which would doubtless have occasioned some surprise had not all the senses of the cottagers been benumbed by want and squalid poverty. As it was, I lived ungazed at and unmolested, hardly thanked for the pittance of food and clothes which I gave. So much. Does suffering blunt even the coarsest sensations of men? In this retreat I devoted the morning to labor, but in the evening, when the weather permitted, I walked on the stony beach of the sea to listen to the waves as they roared and dashed at my feet. It was a monotonous, yet ever changing scene. I thought of Switzerland. It was far different from this desolate and appalling landscape. Its hills are covered with vines, and its cottages are scattered Thickly in the plains, its fair lakes reflect a blue and gentle sky. And when troubled by the winds, their tumult is but as the play of a lively infant when compared to the roarings of the giant ocean. In this manner I distributed my occupations when I first arrived. But as I proceeded in my labor, it became every day more horrible and irksome to me. Sometimes I could not prevail on myself to enter my laboratory for several days, and at other times I toiled day and night in order to complete my work. It was indeed a filthy process in which I was engaged. During my first experiment, a kind of enthusiastic frenzy had blinded me to the horror of my employment. My mind was intently fixed on the consummation of my labor, and my eyes were shut to the horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in cold blood, and my heart often sickened at the work of my hands. Thus situated, employed in the most detestable occupation, immersed in a solitude where nothing could for an instant call my attention. From the actual scene in which I was engaged, my spirits became unequal. I grew restless and nervous. Every moment I feared to meet my persecutor. Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed on the ground, fearing to raise them lest they should encounter the object which I so much dreaded to behold. I feared to wander from the sight of my fellow creatures, Lest, when alone, he should come to claim his companion. In the meantime I worked on, and my labour was already considerably advanced. I looked toward its completion with a tremulous and eager hope, which I dared not trust myself to question, but which was intermixed, mixed with obscure forebodings of evil that made my heart sicken in my bosom. Chapter 20. I sat one evening in my laboratory. The sun had set, and the moon was just rising from the sea. I had not sufficient light for my employment, and I remained idle in a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labor for the night or hasten its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to me, which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner. And had created a fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant. She might become 10,000 times more malignant than her mate. And delight for its own sake. In murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighborhood of man and hide himself in deserts. But she had not. And she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other. The creature who already lived loathed his own deformity. And might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it? When it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man. She might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species. Even if they were to leave Europe and inhabit the deserts of the New World. World. Yet one of the first results of those sympathies for which the demon thirsted would be children. And a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations if I had before been moved by the sophisms of the being I had created? Sophisms are arguments made intentionally to deceive someone. I had been struck senseless by his fiendish threats. But now, for the first time, the wickedness of my promise burst upon me. I shuddered to think that future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness had not hesitated to buy its own piece at the price, perhaps, of the existence of the whole human race. I trembled, and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by the light of the moon the demon at the casement, meaning at the window. A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me where I sat, fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had followed me in my travels. He had loitered in forests, forests, hid himself in caves or taken refuge in wide and desert heaths. And he now came to mark my progress and claim the fulfillment of my promise. As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged. The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and revenge withdrew. I left the room, and, locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own heart never to resume my labors. And then, with trembling steps, I sought my own apartment. I was alone, none were near me to dissipate the gloom and relieve me from the sickening oppression of the most terrible reveries. Several hours passed, and I remained near my window, gazing on the sea. It was almost motionless, for the winds were hushed and all nature reposed under the eye of the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone specked the water, and now and then the gentle breeze wafted the sound of voices as the fishermen called to one another. I felt the silence, although I was hardly conscious of its extreme profundity, until my ear was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the shore and a person landed close to my house. In a few minutes, after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if someone endeavored to open it softly, I trembled from head to foot. I felt a presentiment of who it was and wished to rouse one of the peasants who dwelt in a cottage not far from mine. But I was overcome by the sensation of helplessness so often felt in frightful dreams when you in vain endeavor to fly from an impending danger, and was rooted to the spot. Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the passage. The door opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared. Shutting the door, he approached me and said in a smothered voice, you have destroyed the work which you began. What is it that you intend? Do you dare break your promise? I have endured toil and misery. I left Switzerland with you. I crept along the shores of the Rhine, among its willow islands and over the summits of its hills. I have dwelt many months in the heaths of England and among the deserts of Scotland. I have endured incalculable fatigue and cold and hunger. Do you dare destroy my hopes? Begone. I do break my promise. Never will I create another like yourself, equal in deformity and wickedness. Slave. I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself unworthy of my condescension. Remember that I have power. You believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You. You are my creator, but I am your master. Obey. The hour of my irresolution is past, and the period of your power is arrived. Your threats cannot move me to do an act of wickedness, but they confirm me in a determination of not creating you a companion in vice. Shall I in cold blood set loose upon the earth a demon whose delight is in death and wretchedness? Begone. I am firm, and your words will only exasperate my rage. The monster saw my determination in my face and gnashed his teeth in the impotence of anger? Shall each man, cried he find a wife for his bosom, and each beast have its mate? And should I be alone? I had feelings of affection, and they were requited with detestation and scorn. Man, you may hate, but beware. Your hours will pass in dread and misery, and soon the bolt will fall which must ravish you from your happiness forever. Are you to be happy while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness? You can blast my other passions, but revenge remains revenge, henceforth dearer than light or food. I may die, but first you, my tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes on your misery. Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful. I will watch with the wiliness of a snake that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall repent of the injuries you inflict. Devil, cease. And do not poison the air with these sounds of malice. I have declared my resolution to you. You. And I am no coward to bend beneath the words. Leave me. I am inexorable. Inexorable means impossible to stop or prevent. So he's saying he's not going to change his mind. He refuses to make the female monster. It is well I go. But remember, I shall be with you on your wedding night. I started forward and exclaimed, villain, before you sign my death warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe. I would have seized him, but he eluded me and quitted the house with precipitation, meaning he left quickly. In a few moments I saw him in his boat, which shot across the waters with an arrowy swiftness and was soon lost amidst the waves. All was again silent, but his words rang in my ears. I burned with rage to pursue the murderer of my peace and precipitate him into the ocean. I walked up and down my room hastily and perturbed, while my imagination conjured up a thousand images to torment and sting me. Why had I not followed him and closed with him in mortal strife? Meaning, why hadn't he gone after him and tried to kill him? But I had suffered him to depart, and he had directed his course towards the mainland. I shuddered to think who might be the next victim sacrificed to his insatiate revenge. And then I thought again of his. I will be with you on your wedding night. That then was the period fixed for the fulfilment of my destiny. In that hour I should die and at once satisfy and extinguish his malice. The prospect did not move me to fear, fear. Yet when I thought of my beloved Elizabeth, of her tears and endless sorrow when she should find her lover so barbarously snatched from her. Tears, the first I had shed for many months streamed from my eyes, and I resolved not to fall before my enemy without a bitter struggle. The night passed away and the sun rose from the ocean. My feelings became calmer, if it may be called calmness when the violence of rage sinks into the depths of despair. I left the house, the horrid scene of the last night's contention, and walked on the beach of the sea, which I almost regarded as an insuperable barrier between me and my fellow creatures. Nay, a wish that such should prove the fact stole across me. I desired that I might pass my life on that barren rock wearily, it is true, but uninterrupted by any sudden shock of misery. If I returned, it was to be sacrificed, or to see those whom I most loved die under the grasp of a demon whom I had myself created. I walked about the aisle like a restless specter, separated from all it loved and miserable in the separation. When it became noon and the sun rose higher, I lay down on the grass and was overpowered by a deep sleep. I had been awake the whole of the preceding night. My nerves were agitated and my eyes inflamed by watching and misery. The sleep into which I now sank refreshed me, and when I awoke, I again felt as if I belonged to a race of human beings like myself. And I began to reflect upon what had passed with greater composure. Yet still the words of the fiend rang in my ears like a death knell. They appeared like a dream, yet distinct and oppressive as a reality. The sun had far descended, and I still sat on the shore, satisfying my appetite, which had become ravenous with an Oaten cake, when I saw a fishing boat land close to me, and one of the men brought me a packet. It contained letters from Geneva and one from Clerval entreating me to join him. He said that he was wearing away his time fruitlessly where he was, that letters from the friends he had formed in London desired his return to complete the negotiation they had entered into for his Indian enterprise. He could not any longer delay his departure, but as his journey to London might be followed even sooner than he now conjectured by his longer voyage, he entreated me to bestow as much of my society on him as I could spare. He besought me, therefore, to leave my solitary isle and to meet him at Perth, that we might proceed southwards together. This letter in a degree recalled me to life. And I determined to quit my island at the expiration of two days. Yet before I departed, there was a task to perform on which I shuddered to reflect. I must pack up my chemical instruments, and for that purpose I must enter the room which had been the scene of my odious work. And I must handle those utensils, the sight of which was sickening to me. The next morning at daybreak, I summoned sufficient courage and unlocked the door of my laboratory. The remains of the half finished creature whom I had destroyed lay scattered on the floor. And I almost felt as if I had mangled the living flesh of a human being. I paused to collect myself and then entered the chamber. With trembling hand I conveyed the instruments out of the room. But I reflected that I ought not to leave the relics of my work to excite the horror and suspicion of the peasants. And I accordingly put them into a basket with a great quantity of stones and laying them up, determined to throw them into the sea that very night. And in the meantime I sat upon the beach, employed in cleaning and arranging my chemical apparatus. Nothing could be more complete than the alteration that had taken place in my feelings since the night of the appearance of the demon. I had before regarded my promise with a gloomy despair. As a thing that with whatever consequences, must be fulfilled. But I now felt as if a film had been taken from before my eyes. And that I, for the first time saw clearly. The idea of renewing my labors did not for one instant occur to me. The threat I had heard weighed on my thoughts, but I did not reflect that a voluntary act of mine could avert it. I had resolved in my own mind that to create another like the fiend I had first made. Would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness. Meaning because he was only doing it to save himself and his family from the monster. It would have just been selfish. And I banished from my mind every thought that could lead to a different conclusion. Between 2 and 3 in the morning the moon rose. And I, then, putting my basket aboard a little skiff, sailed out about four miles from the shore. The scene was perfectly solitary. A few boats were returning towards land, but I sailed away from them. I felt as if I was about the commission of a dreadful crime time. And avoided with shuddering anxiety any encounter with my fellow creatures. At one time the moon, which had before been clear, was suddenly overspread by a thick cloud. And I took advantage of the moment of darkness and cast my basket into the sea. I listened to the gurgling sound as it sank and then sailed away from the spot. The sky became clouded, but the air was pure, although chilled by the northeast breeze that was then rising. But it refreshed me and filled me with such agreeable sensations that I resolved to prolong my stay on the water, and, fixing the rudder in a direct position, stretched myself at the bottom of the boat. Clouds hid the moon. Everything was obscure, and I heard only the sound of the boat as its keel cut through the waves. The murmur lulled me, and in a short time I slept soundly. I do not know how long I remained in this situation, but when I awoke I found that the sun had already mounted considerably. The wind was high, and the waves continually threatened the safety of my little skiff. I found that the wind was northeast and must have driven me far from the coast from which I had embarked. I endeavored to change my course, but quickly found that if I again made the attempt, the boat would be instantly filled with water. Thus situated, my only resource was to drive before the wind. I confess that I felt a few sensations of terror. I had no compass with me and was so slenderly acquainted with the geography of this part of the world that the sun was of little benefit to me. I might be driven into the wide Atlantic and feel all the tortures of starvation, or be swallowed up in the immeasurable waters that roared and buffeted around me. I had already been out many hours and felt the torment of a burning thirst, a prelude to my other sufferings. I looked on the heavens, which were covered by clouds that flew before the wind, only to be replaced by others. I looked upon the sea. It was to be my grave fiend. I exclaimed. Your task is already fulfilled. I thought of Elizabeth, of my father, and of Clerval, all left behind, on whom the monster might satisfy his sanguinary and merciless passions. So sanguinary means having to do with blood. This idea plunged me into a reverie so despairing and frightful that even now, when the scene is on the point of closing before me forever, I shudder to reflect on it. Some hours passed thus, but by degrees, as the sun declined towards the horizon, the wind died away into a gentle breeze, and the sea became free from breakers. But these gave place to a heavy swell. I felt sick and hardly able to hold the rudder, when suddenly I saw a line of high land towards the south. Almost spent as I was by fatigue and the dreadful suspense, I endured for several hours this sudden certainty of life. Life rushed like a flood of warm joy to my heart and Tears gushed from my eyes. How mutable are our feelings, meaning how changeful and how strange is that clinging love we have of life, even in the excess of misery. I constructed another sail with the part of my dress and eagerly steered my course towards the land. It had a wild and rocky appearance, but as I approached nearer, I easily perceived the traces of cultivation. I saw vessels near the shore and found myself suddenly transported back to the neighborhood of civilized man. I carefully traced the windings of the land and hailed a steeple which I at length saw issuing from behind a small promontory. As I was in a state of extreme debility, I resolved to sail directly towards the town as a place where I could most easily procure nourishment. Fortunately, I had money with me. Me. As I turned the promontory, I perceived a small, neat town and a good harbor, which I entered, my heart bounding with joy at my unexpected escape. As I was occupied in fixing the boat and arranging the sails, several people crowded towards the spot. They seemed much surprised at my appearance, but instead of offering me any assistance, whispered together with gestures that at any other time might have produced in me a slight sensation of alarm. As it was, I merely remarked that they spoke English, and I therefore addressed them in that language. My good friends said I will you be so kind as to tell me the name of this town and inform me where I am? You will know soon enough, replied a man with a hoarse voice. Maybe you are come to a place that will not prove much to your taste, but you will not be consulted as to your quarters, I promise you. I was exceedingly surprised on receiving so rude an answer from a stranger, and I was also disconcerted on perceiving the frowning and angry countenances of his companions. Why do you answer me so roughly? I replied. Surely it is not the custom of Englishmen to receive strangers so inhospitably. I do not know, said the man, what the custom of the English may be, but it is the custom of the Irish to hate villains. While this strange dialogue continued, I perceived the crowd rapidly increase. Their faces expressed a mixture of curiosity and anger, which annoyed and in some degree alarmed me. I inquired the way to the inn, but no one replied. I then moved forward, and a murmuring sound arose from the crowd as they followed and surrounded me. When an ill looking man approaching tapped me on the shoulder and said, come, sir, you must follow me to Mr. Curwen's to give an account of yourself. Who is Mr. Kirwan? Why am I to give an account of myself. Is not this a free country? Ay, sir. Free enough for honest folks. Mr. Kirwan is a magistrate and you are to give an account of the death of a gentleman who was found murdered here last night. This answer startled me, but I presently recovered myself. I was innocent. That could easily be proved. Accordingly, I followed my conductor in silence and was led to one of the best houses in the town. I was ready to sink from fatigue and hunger, but being surrounded by a crowd, I thought it politic to rouse all my strength that no physical debility might be construed into apprehension or conscious guilt. Little did I then expect the calamity that was in a few moments to overwhelm me and extinguish in horror and despair all fear of ignominy or death. Ignominy means public shame. So he's saying he had no idea that something even worse than this was about to happen to him. I must pause here, for it requires all my fortitude to recall the memory of the frightful events which I am about to relate in proper detail to my recollection. Thank you so much for listening. I'd love to know what you thought of the chapters. Is there anything you'd like me to clarify? Did something particularly interest you? Please go to my website, faithkmoore.com click on contact and send me your questions and thoughts. Or you can click on the link in the Show Notes to contact me. I'll feature one or two of your entries at the start of the next episode. Speaking of links, don't forget to take a look at the other links in the show notes. You can learn more about me, check out our Merch store, or become a member of the Storytime for Grown Ups online community. Before I go, I'd like to ask a quick favor. This is an independent podcast. It's produced, recorded and marketed by me, so I need your help. Spread the word about the show by posting about it on social media or texting a link to your friends. Subscribe tap those five stars and leave a positive review wherever you're listening. If you are able to support the show financially, there's a link in the Show Notes to make a donation. I would really, really appreciate it. Alright everyone, story time is over. To be continue.