by Mary Shelley
“These thoughts exhilarated me, and led me to apply with fresh ardour to the acquiring the art of language. My organs were indeed harsh, but supple; and although my voice was very unlike the soft music of their tones, yet I pronounced such words as I understood with tolerable ease. It was as the ass and the lap-dog;7 yet surely the gentle ass, whose intentions were affectionate, although his manners were rude, deserved better treatment than blows and execration.
“The pleasant showers and genial warmth of spring greatly altered the aspect of the earth. Men, who before this change seemed to have been hid in caves, dispersed themselves, and were employed in various arts of cultivation. The birds sang in more cheerful notes, and the leaves began to bud forth on the trees. Happy, happy earth! fit habitation for gods, which, so short a time before, was bleak, damp, and unwholesome. My spirits were elevated by the enchanting appearance of nature; the past was blotted from my memory, the present was tranquil, and the future gilded by bright rays of hope, and anticipations of joy.”
1. Chapter 12 in the 1831 edition.
2. The Thomas Text deletes the second half of the sentence and substitutes: “They had appeared to me rich, because their possessions incomparably transcended mine, but I soon learnt, that many of these advantages were only apparent, since their delicate frame made them subject to a thousand wants of the existence of which I was entirely ignorant.” The sentence was not used in the 1831 edition.
3. We may deduce, as we will see in note 5, Volume II, Chapter V, below, that the people spoke French.
4. “Agatha” means “goodness” in Greek; “Felix” means “happiness” in Latin.
5. Bringing the creature to spring 1794, months after his “birth” in November 1793.
6. What has led the creature to conceive of himself as “deformed”? Victor certainly fled from his presence, but according to Victor, he made no remarks about the creature’s appearance. Similarly, the hut dweller who fled when the creature popped into his hut appears to have been more surprised than repelled and likely left hurriedly because he was trespassing in someone else’s structure. Why also would the creature think that “delicate complexions” were admirable, except if he had been taught that?
Tantalizingly, the passage suggests that the creature’s brain was not as blank as is implied but rather retained memories and attitudes of its previous user. For further evidence of this suggestion, see note 5, Volume II, Chapter V, below.
7. Aesop’s Fables (George Fyler Townsend translation, 1887) recounts the tale of the Ass and the Lapdog:
A MAN had an Ass, and a Maltese Lapdog, a very great beauty. The Ass was left in a stable and had plenty of oats and hay to eat, just as any other Ass would. The Lapdog knew many tricks and was a great favorite with his master, who often fondled him and seldom went out to dine without bringing him home some tidbit to eat. The Ass, on the contrary, had much work to do in grinding the corn-mill and in carrying wood from the forest or burdens from the farm. He often lamented his own hard fate and contrasted it with the luxury and idleness of the Lapdog, till at last one day he broke his cords and halter, and galloped into his master’s house, kicking up his heels without measure, and frisking and fawning as well as he could. He next tried to jump about his master as he had seen the Lapdog do, but he broke the table and smashed all the dishes upon it to atoms. He then attempted to lick his master, and jumped upon his back. The servants, hearing the strange hubbub and perceiving the danger of their master, quickly relieved him, and drove out the Ass to his stable with kicks and clubs and cuffs. The Ass, as he returned to his stall beaten nearly to death, thus lamented: “I have brought it all on myself! Why could I not have been contented to labor with my companions, and not wish to be idle all the day like that useless little Lapdog!”
Aesop’s Fables is a collection of stories attributed to the Greek Aesop, of uncertain biography, and may well have simply been an amalgamation of folklore. A German edition by Heinrich Steinhöwel appeared in 1476, and a French edition appeared in 1480, succeeded by an English edition by Caxton in 1484.
CHAPTER V.1
“I NOW HASTEN TO the more moving part of my story. I shall relate events that impressed me with feelings which, from what I was,2 have made me what I am.
“Spring advanced rapidly; the weather became fine, and the skies cloudless. It surprised me, that what before was desert and gloomy should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight, and a thousand sights of beauty.
“It was on one of these days, when my cottagers periodically rested from labour—the old man played on his guitar, and the children listened to him—I observed that the countenance of Felix was melancholy beyond expression: he sighed frequently; and once his father paused in his music, and I conjectured by his manner that he inquired the cause of his son’s sorrow. Felix replied in a cheerful accent, and the old man was recommencing his music, when some one tapped at the door.
“It was a lady on horseback, accompanied by a countryman as a guide. The lady was dressed in a dark suit, and covered with a thick black veil. Agatha asked a question; to which the stranger only replied by pronouncing, in a sweet accent, the name of Felix. Her voice was musical, but unlike that of either of my friends. On hearing this word, Felix came up hastily to the lady; who, when she saw him, threw up her veil, and I beheld a countenance of angelic beauty and expression. Her hair of a shining raven black, and curiously braided; her eyes were dark, but gentle, although animated; her features of a regular proportion, and her complexion wondrously fair, each cheek tinged with a lovely pink.3
“Felix seemed ravished with delight when he saw her, every trait of sorrow vanished from his face, and it instantly expressed a degree of ecstatic joy, of which I could hardly have believed it capable; his eyes sparkled, as his cheek flushed with pleasure; and at that moment I thought him as beautiful as the stranger. She appeared affected by different feelings; wiping a few tears from her lovely eyes, she held out her hand to Felix, who kissed it rapturously, and called her, as well as I could distinguish, his sweet Arabian. She did not appear to understand him, but smiled. He assisted her to dismount, and, dismissing her guide, conducted her into the cottage. Some conversation took place between him and his father; and the young stranger knelt at the old man’s feet, and would have kissed his hand, but he raised her, and embraced her affectionately.
“I soon perceived, that although the stranger uttered articulate sounds, and appeared to have a language of her own, she was neither understood by, or herself understood, the cottagers. They made many signs which I did not comprehend; but I saw that her presence diffused gladness through the cottage, dispelling their sorrow as the sun dissipates the morning mists. Felix seemed peculiarly happy, and with smiles of delight welcomed his Arabian. Agatha, the ever-gentle Agatha, kissed the hands of the lovely stranger; and, pointing to her brother, made signs which appeared to me to mean that he had been sorrowful until she came. Some hours passed thus, while they, by their countenances, expressed joy, the cause of which I did not comprehend. Presently I found, by the frequent recurrence of one sound which the stranger repeated after them, that she was endeavouring to learn their language; and the idea instantly occurred to me, that I should make use of the same instructions to the same end. The stranger learned about twenty words at the first lesson, most of them indeed were those which I had before understood, but I profited by the others.
“As night came on, Agatha and the Arabian retired early. When they separated, Felix kissed the hand of the stranger, and said, ‘Good night, sweet Safie.’4 He sat up much longer, conversing with his father; and, by the frequent repetition of her name, I conjectured that their lovely guest was the subject of their conversation. I ardently desired to understand them, and bent every faculty towards that purpose, but found it utterly impossible.
“The next morning Felix went out to his work; and, after the usual occupations of Agatha were finished, the Arabian sat
at the feet of the old man, and, taking his guitar, played some airs so entrancingly beautiful, that they at once drew tears of sorrow and delight from my eyes. She sang, and her voice flowed in a rich cadence, swelling or dying away, like a nightingale of the woods.
“When she had finished, she gave the guitar to Agatha, who at first declined it. She played a simple air, and her voice accompanied it in sweet accents, but unlike the wondrous strain of the stranger. The old man appeared enraptured, and said some words, which Agatha endeavoured to explain to Safie, and by which he appeared to wish to express that she bestowed on him the greatest delight by her music.
“The days now passed as peaceably as before, with the sole alteration, that joy had taken place of sadness in the countenances of my friends. Safie was always gay and happy; she and I improved rapidly in the knowledge of language, so that in two months I began to comprehend most of the words uttered by my protectors.
“In the meanwhile also the black ground was covered with herbage, and the green banks interspersed with innumerable flowers, sweet to the scent and the eyes, stars of pale radiance among the moonlight woods; the sun became warmer, the nights clear and balmy; and my nocturnal rambles were an extreme pleasure to me, although they were considerably shortened by the late setting and early rising of the sun; for I never ventured abroad during daylight, fearful of meeting with the same treatment as I had formerly endured in the first village which I entered.
“My days were spent in close attention, that I might more speedily master the language; and I may boast that I improved more rapidly than the Arabian, who understood very little, and conversed in broken accents, whilst I comprehended and could imitate almost every word that was spoken.
“While I improved in speech, I also learned the science of letters,5 as it was taught to the stranger; and this opened before me a wide field for wonder and delight.
“The book from which Felix instructed Safie was Volney’s Ruins of Empires.6 I should not have understood the purport of this book, had not Felix, in reading it, given very minute explanations. He had chosen this work, he said, because the declamatory style was framed in imitation of the eastern authors. Through this work I obtained a cursory knowledge of history, and a view of the several empires at present existing in the world; it gave me an insight into the manners, governments, and religions of the different nations of the earth. I heard of the slothful Asiatics; of the stupendous genius and mental activity of the Grecians; of the wars and wonderful virtue of the early Romans—of their subsequent degeneration7—of the decline of that mighty empire; of chivalry, christianity and kings. I heard of the discovery of the American hemisphere, and wept with Safie over the hapless fate of its original inhabitants.
Volney’s The Ruins, Or, Meditation on the Revolutions of Empires, printed just two years before Safie’s studies.
“These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous, and magnificent, yet so vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle, and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and godlike. To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour that can befall a sensitive being; to be base and vicious, as many on record have been, appeared the lowest degradation, a condition more abject than that of the blind mole or harmless worm. For a long time I could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased, and I turned away with disgust and loathing.
“Every conversation of the cottagers now opened new wonders to me. While I listened to the instructions which Felix bestowed upon the Arabian, the strange system of human society was explained to me. I heard of the division of property, of immense wealth and squalid poverty; of rank, descent, and noble blood.
“The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the possessions most esteemed by your fellow-creatures were, high and unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only one of these acquisitions;8 but without either he was considered, except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to waste his powers for the profit of the chosen few. And what was I? Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant; but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endowed with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they, and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded their’s. When I looked around, I saw and heard of none like me. Was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled, and whom all men disowned?
“I cannot describe to you the agony that these reflections inflicted upon me; I tried to dispel them, but sorrow only increased with knowledge. Oh, that I had for ever remained in my native wood, nor known or felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst, and heat!
“Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind, when it has once seized on it, like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling; but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death—a state which I feared yet did not understand. I admired virtue and good feelings, and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my cottagers; but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except through means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and unknown, and which rather increased than satisfied the desire I had of becoming one among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha, and the animated smiles of the charming Arabian, were not for me. The mild exhortations of the old man, and the lively conversation of the loved Felix, were not for me. Miserable, unhappy wretch!
“Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the difference of sexes; of the birth and growth of children; how the father doated on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the older child; how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapt up in the precious charge; how the mind of youth expanded and gained knowledge; of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which bind one human being to another in mutual bonds.
“But where were my friends and relations? No father had watched my infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I distinguished nothing. From my earliest remembrance I had been as I then was in height and proportion. I had never yet seen a being resembling me, or who claimed any intercourse with me. What was I? The question again recurred, to be answered only with groans.
“I will soon explain to what these feelings tended; but allow me now to return to the cottagers, whose story excited in me such various feelings of indignation, delight, and wonder, but which all terminated in additional love and reverence for my protectors (for so I loved, in an innocent, half painful self-deceit, to call them).”
1. Chapter 13 in the 1831 edition.
2. The creature uses the more grammatical “had been” in place of “was” in the 1831 edition.
3. While Safie is an “Arabian,” she is described as having a classically Western appearance, with “wondrously fair” skin; her eyes are “dark” (non-Western) “but gentle.” In many ways an idealized woman, shown both as standing up to her villainous father and as the perfect lover/wife to Felix De Lacey, her racial mixture is telling. Traditionally in Western literature, such attributes might have prefigured her inclusion in the role of the slave, the resident of the harem. Joyce Zonana, in “ ‘They Will Prove the Truth of My Tale’: Safie’s Letters as the Feminist Core of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” (Journal of Narrative Technique 21, no, 2 [Spring 1991], 170–84), sees her as “a woman who insists on her own possession of a soul, rejecting ‘puerile amusements’ and devoting herself to a ‘noble emulation for virtue.’ Safie’s echoing of Mary Wollstonecraft’s ideas (and words) identifies her, not as Mary Wollstonecraft herself, but as an exem
plar of a woman claiming her rights as a rational being.”
4. The name “Safie” is invented but is drawn either from the Greek “sophia” (wisdom) or the Arabic “safa” (pronounced “sah-fah” and meaning “pure”). It was originally “Maimouna” or “Amina” in Percy Shelley’s editorial material; the Draft does not include this chapter. Note the similarity of the pronunciation of “Safie” to the French pronunciation of “Saville,” the married name of Walton’s sister.
5. It is simply not possible that one can learn to read by listening to another person learning to read. Reading is a matter of connecting symbols with meaning, and unless the symbols can be seen (or felt, if one is learning Braille), no connection can be made. The creature was certainly too far away to see the symbols in the book as Felix showed them to Safie. A more plausible theory is that his brain, taken from another French speaker, “remembered” how to read (and speak), and he merely convinced himself that he was “learning” a skill that he already possessed. Sir Walter Scott wrote, in his 1818 review of Frankenstein for Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, “That he should have not only learned to speak, but to read, and, for aught we know, to write … by listening through a hole in a wall, seems as unlikely as that he should have acquired, in the same way, the problems of Euclid, or the art of bookkeeping, by single and double entry.”
Furthermore, are we to understand that Safie did not know how to read? Or merely that Felix read to her to help her expand her knowledge of the language? The latter is more plausible, inasmuch as Safie’s mother “taught her to aspire to higher powers of intellect,” which must have included reading (although she may have only learned Turkic from her Christian-Arab mother).
6. More properly, The Ruins, Or, Meditation on the Revolutions of Empires: and The Law of Nature, by Constantin-François Chasseboeuf, who took the name Volney, published in 1791 in French. It was translated in 1802 into English. The book is described by Frankenstein scholar Pamela Clemit as “a powerful Enlightenment critique of ancient and modern governments as tyrannical and supported by religious fraud” (“Frankenstein, Matilda, and the Legacies of Godwin and Wollstonecraft,” in The Cambridge Companion to Mary Shelley, ed. Esther Schor [Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2003], 35).