Frankenstein

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 for ever 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 for ever. 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 labo­ri­ous 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 tran­quil­lise 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

Saint Peters­burg ⇒ For­mer­ly Pet­ro­grad (1914–1924) and Leningrad (1924–1991) A city of north­west Rus­sia on the Neva Riv­er at the head of the Gulf of Fin­land. Found­ed by Peter the Great in 1703 as St. Peters­burg, it became the cap­i­tal of Rus­sia in 1712. It was replaced by Moscow as cap­i­tal in 1918.

rejoice rɪˈʤɔɪs v To feel joy­ful; be delight­ed: cheer

enter­prise ˈɛn­təpraɪz n A project or under­tak­ing, espe­cial­ly one that requires bold­ness or effort: project, task, undertaking

fore­bod­ing fɔːˈbəʊdɪŋ n A sense of impend­ing evil or mis­for­tune: omen, warn­ing, pre­dic­tion, sign, token,

brace breɪs v To stim­u­late: fresh­en, invigorate

fore­taste ˈfɔːteɪst n An advance token or warn­ing: expec­ta­tion, prospect

clime klaɪm n Cli­mate, weather.

inspir­it ɪnˈspɪrɪt v To instill courage, inspi­ra­tion, and res­o­lu­tion to: ani­mate, embold­en, encour­age, inspire

day­dream ˈdeɪˌ­driːm n A pleas­ant dream­like fan­ta­sy indulged in while awake: fan­cy, fan­ta­sy, fic­tion, illu­sion, phantasm

fer­vent ˈfɜːvənt adv Hav­ing or show­ing great warmth or inten­si­ty of spir­it, feel­ing, enthu­si­asm, etc.: ardent

vivid ˈvɪvɪd adj Very clear, pow­er­ful, and detailed in your mind: clear, bright, intense

in vain ⇒ To no avail; with­out success.

des­o­la­tion ˌdɛsəˈleɪʃən n The state of being decayed, destroyed, for­sak­en or aban­doned: iso­la­tion, lone­li­ness, soli­tude, wild­ness, bar­ren­ness, solitariness

skirt skɜːt To pass close to; miss nar­row­ly: pass by

dif­fuse dɪˈfjuːz v To spread or cause to spread in all direc­tions: spread, dis­trib­ute

per­pet­u­al pəˈpɛʧʊəl adj Endur­ing for all time: eter­nal, end­less, ever­last­ing, cease­less, never-ending

splen­dour ˈsplɛndə n A refined qual­i­ty of grace­ful­ness and good taste: ele­gance, magnificence

for fɔː cj Because; since.

with your leave ⇒ (Archa­ic) With your permission.

to put one’s trust in some­one or some­thing ⇒ To trust some­one or something.

ban­ish ˈbænɪʃ v To dri­ve away: expel

waft wɑːft v To float eas­i­ly and gen­tly, as on the air: drift

sur­pass sɜːˈpɑːs v To go beyond in amount, extent, or degree; be greater than: exceed

hith­er­to ˈhɪðəˈ­tuː adv Until now; before this time.

hab­it­able ˈhæbɪtəbᵊl adj Suit­able to live in or on: inhab­it­able, liv­able, liveable

phe­nom­e­non fəˈnɒmɪnən n pl phe­nom­e­na (Physics) An observ­able event.

soli­tude ˈsɒlɪtjuːd n The state or qual­i­ty of being alone or remote from oth­ers: iso­la­tion

won­drous ˈwʌn­drəs adj Extra­or­di­nar­i­ly good or great: won­der­ful; remarkable

celes­tial sɪˈlɛstiəl adj Of or relat­ing to the sky or phys­i­cal uni­verse as under­stood in astron­o­my: heav­en­ly

eccen­tric­i­ty ˌɛk­sɛnˈtrɪsəti n Strange and uncon­ven­tion­al behav­ior: strange­ness, odd­i­ty, oddness

sati­ate ˈseɪʃieɪt v To fill or sup­ply beyond capac­i­ty or desire, often arous­ing weari­ness: sur­feit

ardent ˈɑːdᵊnt adj Express­ing or char­ac­ter­ized by warmth of feel­ing: pas­sion­ate

tread trɛd v To step, walk, or tram­ple so as to press, crush, or injure some­thing: squash, step on, trample

imprint ɪmˈprɪnt v To pro­duce (a mark or pat­tern) on a sur­face by pres­sure: stamp

entice­ment ɪnˈ­taɪs­mənt n Some­thing that seduces or has the qual­i­ty to seduce: temp­ta­tion

con­quer ˈkɒŋkə v Take pos­ses­sion of by force, as after an inva­sion: sub­due, crush, subjugate

labo­ri­ous ləˈbɔːrɪəs­li adv Involv­ing great exer­tion or long effort: ardu­ous, dif­fi­cult, hard

embark ɪmˈbɑːk v To board a ship, air­craft, or oth­er vehi­cle, as for a jour­ney: board

con­jec­ture kənˈʤɛkʧə n The for­ma­tion of con­clu­sions from incom­plete evi­dence: guess, sup­po­si­tion; theory

ines­timable ɪnˈɛstɪməbᵊl adj Impos­si­ble to be cal­cu­lat­ed: count­less, immea­sur­able, infi­nite, innu­mer­able, uncountable

con­fer kənˈfɜː v To meet and exchange views to reach a deci­sion: advise, con­sult, talk

at present ⇒ At this time, now.

req­ui­site ˈrɛk­wɪzɪt n Any­thing indis­pens­able: want, need, neces­si­ty, require­ment, must

ascer­tain æsəˈteɪn v Estab­lish after a cal­cu­la­tion, inves­ti­ga­tion, exper­i­ment, sur­vey, or study: deter­mine

secret of the mag­net ⇒ A ref­er­ence that the goal of the jour­ney is reach­ing the North Pole, and pos­si­bly learn­ing more about the Earth’s magnetism.

at all ⇒ In any way; for any rea­son; to any extent; whatever.

effect ɪˈfɛkt v To cause to occur; bring about: accom­plish

dis­pel dɪˈspɛl v To dri­ve off in var­i­ous direc­tions: dis­perse, dissipate

agi­ta­tion ˌæʤɪˈteɪʃᵊn n Extreme emo­tion­al dis­tur­bance: tur­moil, commotion

ele­vate ˈɛlɪveɪt v To move some­thing to a high­er place or posi­tion from a low­er one: lift, heave, hoist, raise

for fɔː cj Because; since.

tran­quil­lise ˈtræŋk­wɪlaɪz v To make calm or still: soothe, qui­eten, calm down

ardour ˈɑːdə n A feel­ing of strong ener­gy or eager­ness: zeal

in prospect ⇒ In sight; as a possibility.

neglect nɪˈglɛkt v To fail to care for or attend to properly.

pas­sion­ate­ly ˈpæʃᵊnətli adv With strong or pow­er­ful emo­tion: emo­tion­al­ly, eagerly

fond fɒnd adj Hav­ing or dis­play­ing warmth or affec­tion: lov­ing, ten­der, affec­tion­ate, love­some, warm

famil­iar­i­ty fəˌmɪlɪˈærɪti n Close acquain­tance­ship or inti­ma­cy: close­ness

injunc­tion ɪnˈʤʌŋkʃᵊn n A judi­cial process or order requir­ing the per­son or per­sons to whom it is direct­ed to do or refrain from doing a par­tic­u­lar act.

sea­far­ing ˈsiːˌfeərɪŋ adj Fol­low­ing a life at sea.

peruse pəˈruːz v Read through thor­ough­ly; exam­ine in detail: scru­ti­nize

effu­sion ɪˈfjuːʒən n An unre­strained expres­sion of feel­ing, as in speech or writing.

entrance ɪnˈtrɑːns v To fill with delight, won­der, or enchant­ment: spell­bind

niche niːʃ n (Archi­tec­ture) A recess in a wall.

con­se­crate ˈkɒn­sɪkreɪt v To declare or set apart as hal­lowed or sacred.

bent bɛnt n A rel­a­tive­ly per­ma­nent incli­na­tion to react in a par­tic­u­lar way: incli­na­tion, ten­den­cy, disposition

inure ɪˈn­jʊə v To cause to accept or become hard­ened to: adapt, habit­u­ate

famine ˈfæmɪn n A severe short­age of food result­ing in vio­lent hunger and star­va­tion and death.

whaler ˈweɪlə n A whal­ing ship.

acquit əˈk­wɪt v To con­duct one­self in a spec­i­fied way: act, bear, behave

own əʊn v To admit as being in accor­dance with fact, truth, or a claim: acknowl­edge

dig­ni­ty ˈdɪɡnəti n A high office or rank: sta­tus, position

entreat ɪnˈtriːt v To make an earnest request: beg, pray, appeal, implore, plead with

earnest­ness ˈɜːnɪst­nəs n Deter­mi­na­tion and seri­ous­ness, espe­cial­ly when this is with­out humour.

affir­ma­tive əˈfɜːmətɪv adj Assert­ing that some­thing is true or cor­rect: pos­i­tive, optimistic

fluc­tu­ate ˈflʌk­tjʊeɪt v To vary irreg­u­lar­ly: wave

to be about to do some­thing ⇒ To be going to do some­thing very soon.

for­ti­tude ˈfɔːtɪtjuːd n Strength of mind that enables one to endure adver­si­ty with courage: brav­ery, guts, courage, fearlessness

sledge slɛʤ n A vehi­cle mount­ed on run­ners and pulled by hors­es or dogs; for trans­porta­tion over snow: sleigh

stage­coach ˈsteɪʤkəʊʧ n A large four-wheeled horse-drawn vehi­cle for­mer­ly used to car­ry pas­sen­gers, mail, etc, on a reg­u­lar route between towns and cities.

vein veɪn n Any of the tubu­lar ves­sels that con­vey oxy­gen-deplet­ed blood to the heart.

Arkhangel­sk, also known as Archangel and Archangel­sk ⇒ A city in Rus­sia, the chief sea­port of medieval and ear­ly mod­ern Rus­sia until 1703, when it was replaced by the new­ly found­ed Saint Petersburg.

fort­night ˈfɔːt­naɪt n A peri­od of four­teen con­sec­u­tive days: two weeks

farewell ˌfeəˈwɛl n An acknowl­edg­ment or expres­sion of good­will at part­ing: good­by, adieu