Chapter 16

von Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

“Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I have to live? Why, in that moment, didn’t I just snuff out the spark of life you so carelessly gave me? I don’t know; despair hadn’t yet taken hold of me. Instead, I was consumed by rage and a thirst for revenge. I could have easily destroyed that cottage and its inhabitants, relishing their screams and suffering.

When night fell, I left my hiding place and wandered through the woods. No longer held back by the fear of being discovered, I let my anguish out in terrifying howls. I was like a wild beast that had broken free from its traps, tearing through the forest with the speed of a stag. Oh, what a miserable night it was! The cold stars seemed to mock me, and the bare trees waved their branches overhead. Occasionally, a bird’s sweet song would pierce the stillness, but everyone else was at peace or enjoying themselves. I, like a fallen angel, carried a hell within me. Feeling utterly alone, I wanted to rip up the trees, spread chaos and destruction around me, and then sit back and revel in the ruin.

But that kind of pleasure couldn’t last. I grew tired from my exertions and collapsed onto the damp grass, overwhelmed by despair. There was no one among the countless people in the world who would pity or help me. Should I feel kindness toward my enemies? No; from that moment, I declared an everlasting war against humanity, and especially against the one who had created me and sent me into this unbearable misery.

As dawn broke, I heard the voices of men and realized I couldn’t return to my hiding place during the day. So, I concealed myself in some thick underbrush, deciding to spend the hours reflecting on my situation.

The warm sunlight and fresh air of day brought me a measure of calm. As I thought about what had happened at the cottage, I couldn’t help but feel I had been too quick to judge. I had certainly acted foolishly. It was clear that my conversation had piqued the father’s interest on my behalf, and I had been a fool to expose myself to the horror of his children. I should have taken the time to familiarize the old De Lacey with me and gradually revealed myself to the rest of his family when they were ready for my presence. But I didn’t believe my mistakes were beyond repair. After much thought, I resolved to return to the cottage, find the old man, and persuade him to accept me.

These thoughts soothed me, and in the afternoon, I fell into a deep sleep. Yet, the fever in my blood wouldn’t let me dream peacefully. The horrifying scene from the previous day replayed in my mind: the women fleeing and the furious Felix dragging me away from his father’s feet. I woke up exhausted, and realizing it was already night, I crept out of my hiding spot in search of food.

Once my hunger was satisfied, I made my way toward the familiar path that led to the cottage. Everything was quiet. I slipped into my hovel and waited silently for the hour when the family usually woke. That hour passed, and the sun climbed high in the sky, but the cottagers didn’t appear. I trembled with fear, dreading some terrible misfortune. The inside of the cottage was dark, and I heard no sounds; I can’t describe the agony of that suspense.

Soon, two countrymen walked by, stopping near the cottage to talk animatedly, their gestures wild. I couldn’t understand their words, as they spoke in the local language, which was different from that of my protectors. Shortly after, Felix approached with another man. I was surprised, knowing he hadn’t left the cottage that morning, and I waited anxiously to glean the meaning behind these strange occurrences.

“Do you really think,” said his companion, “that you’ll have to pay three months’ rent and lose the produce from your garden? I don’t want to take advantage of you, so I ask that you take a few days to consider your decision.”

“It’s completely pointless,” Felix replied. “We can never live in your cottage again. My father’s life is in grave danger because of the terrible situation I’ve described. My wife and sister will never recover from their horror. I beg you, don’t argue with me any further. Take back your property and let me leave this place.”

Felix trembled as he spoke. He and his companion entered the cottage, where they stayed for a few minutes before leaving. I never saw any of the De Lacey family again.

I spent the rest of the day in my makeshift shelter, drowning in a deep, stupid despair. My protectors had left, severing the only connection I had to the world. For the first time, feelings of revenge and hatred surged within me, and instead of fighting them, I let myself be swept away by those dark currents. My thoughts turned to injury and death.

When I remembered my friends—the gentle voice of De Lacey, the kind eyes of Agatha, and the stunning beauty of the Arabian girl—those thoughts brought tears that offered some comfort. But as soon as I recalled how they had rejected and abandoned me, anger flared up again, a fierce rage that I couldn’t direct at any human. Instead, I unleashed my fury on the lifeless objects around me.

As night fell, I gathered various flammable materials around the cottage. After destroying everything cultivated in the garden, I waited impatiently for the moon to set before starting my plan.

The wind picked up, sweeping through the woods and clearing the clouds from the sky. The gusts felt like a wild avalanche, igniting a kind of madness in my spirit that shattered all reason. I lit a dry branch from a tree and danced around the cottage in a frenzy, my eyes fixed on the western horizon where the moon hung low. As part of it disappeared, I waved my torch, and with a scream, I set fire to the straw, heath, and bushes I had collected. The wind fanned the flames, and soon the cottage was engulfed, the fire wrapping around it with its destructive tongues.

Once I was sure that nothing could save the place, I left the scene and sought refuge in the woods.

Now, with the world stretched out before me, where should I go? I decided to flee far from the site of my misfortunes, but to me—hated and despised—every place felt equally terrible. Then the thought of you crossed my mind. I had learned from your writings that you were my father, my creator. Who better to turn to than the one who had given me life?

Among the lessons Felix had taught Safie, geography was included, and I had learned about the locations of different countries. You had mentioned Geneva as your hometown, and I resolved to head there.

But how would I find my way? I knew I needed to travel southwest to reach my destination, but the sun was my only guide. I didn’t know the names of the towns I would pass through, nor could I ask anyone for help. Still, I didn’t lose hope. You were my only chance for assistance, even though I felt nothing but hatred toward you. Unfeeling, heartless creator! You gave me emotions and desires, then cast me out as an object of scorn and horror for humanity. Yet you were the only one I could turn to for pity and justice, and I decided to seek that from you, even though I had failed to find it from anyone else.

My journey was long, and the suffering I endured was intense. It was late autumn when I left the area where I had lived for so long. I traveled only at night, terrified of encountering another human face. Nature decayed around me; the sun lost its warmth, and rain and snow fell relentlessly. Rivers froze, the ground became hard and cold, and I found no shelter. Oh, earth! How often did I curse the very reason for my existence! My gentle nature had vanished, replaced by bitterness and rage.

As I drew closer to your home, the desire for revenge burned more fiercely in my heart. Snow fell, and the waters froze, but I pressed on. Occasionally, I had some guidance and a map of the country, but I often strayed from my path. The agony of my feelings offered no respite; every incident fed my rage and misery. Then, a particular event occurred as I reached the borders of Switzerland, just as the sun regained its warmth and the earth began to green again, intensifying the bitterness and horror within me.

I usually spent my days resting, only traveling under the cover of night, away from the eyes of others. But one morning, as I found myself in a dense forest, I decided to push on even after sunrise. It was one of the first days of spring, and the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the air lifted my spirits. Emotions I thought were long gone began to stir within me. Surprised by this sudden wave of feelings, I let myself be swept away, forgetting my loneliness and my appearance, and for a moment, I dared to feel happy. Tears of joy filled my eyes, and I looked up at the sun with gratitude for the happiness it brought me.

I wandered through the winding paths of the woods until I reached the edge, where a swift river flowed, its banks lined with trees that were just beginning to bud. I paused, unsure of which direction to take, when I heard voices nearby. Instinctively, I hid under the shade of a cypress tree. Just then, a young girl came running toward me, laughing as if she were playing a game. She dashed along the steep riverbank, but suddenly, her foot slipped, and she fell into the rushing water.

Without thinking, I sprang from my hiding place and, despite the strength of the current, managed to pull her to safety. She was unconscious, and I did everything I could to revive her. Just then, a man appeared, likely the one she had been fleeing from in her playful chase. Seeing me, he rushed over, yanked the girl from my grasp, and hurried deeper into the woods. I followed, not entirely sure why, but when he noticed me closing in, he aimed a gun at me and fired. I collapsed to the ground, and the man fled into the trees.

Was this the reward for my kindness? I had saved a life, and in return, I was left writhing in agony from a wound that shattered my flesh and bone. The feelings of compassion I had just moments before were replaced by a consuming rage. Overcome by pain, I vowed to hate humanity and seek vengeance for the injustice I had suffered. But the pain was too much; my heart slowed, and I lost consciousness.

For weeks, I lived a miserable existence in the woods, trying to heal my wound. The bullet had lodged in my shoulder, and I had no way to remove it. My suffering was compounded by the weight of betrayal and ingratitude. Each day, I swore I would take revenge—a deep, deadly revenge that would make them pay for the torment I endured.

Eventually, my wound healed, and I resumed my journey. The hardships I faced were no longer softened by the sun or the gentle spring breezes; joy felt like a cruel joke, highlighting my isolation and reminding me that I was not meant to enjoy life.

But my journey was nearing its end, and two months later, I found myself on the outskirts of Geneva.

It was evening when I arrived, and I sought refuge in a secluded spot among the fields to think about how I would approach you. I was exhausted and hungry, too miserable to appreciate the soft evening breezes or the sight of the sun setting behind the majestic Jura mountains.

As I sat there, a brief sleep offered me a respite from my troubled thoughts. I was stirred by the sound of a beautiful child running into my hiding place, full of the carefree joy of youth. Suddenly, an idea struck me: this innocent little creature had not yet learned to fear deformity. If I could take him and raise him as my companion, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so alone in this crowded world.

Driven by this impulse, I reached out and grabbed the boy as he passed by, pulling him toward me. The moment he saw my form, he covered his eyes and screamed. I forced his hands away and said, “Child, what’s wrong? I mean you no harm; please, listen to me.”

He struggled fiercely. “Let me go!” he cried. “Monster! Ugly wretch! You want to eat me and tear me apart. You’re an ogre! Let me go, or I’ll tell my dad!”

“Boy, you won’t see your father again; you have to come with me.”

“Hideous monster! Let me go! My dad is a syndic—he’s M. Frankenstein—he’ll punish you. You can’t keep me!”

“‘Frankenstein! You belong to my enemy—the one I’ve sworn to destroy. You will be my first victim.’

The child struggled, hurling words at me that pierced my heart with despair. In a moment of rage, I tightened my grip around his throat, and just like that, he lay lifeless at my feet.

I stared at my victim, a swell of triumph and dark satisfaction coursing through me. I clapped my hands and shouted, ‘I can bring destruction too! My enemy isn’t untouchable; this death will plunge him into despair, and countless other torments will follow.’

As I focused on the child, I noticed something glimmering on his chest. I picked it up—it was a portrait of a stunning woman. Despite my bitterness, it drew me in. For a brief moment, I was captivated by her dark eyes framed by long lashes and her beautiful lips. But soon, my anger surged back. I remembered that I would never experience the joys that such beautiful beings could offer. The woman whose likeness I admired would surely look at me with disgust and fear.

Can you blame me for being consumed by rage? I’m surprised that instead of screaming in agony, I didn’t charge into the world and try to destroy everything in my path.

Overwhelmed by these feelings, I left the scene of my crime and sought refuge in a nearby barn that seemed deserted. Inside, I found a young woman sleeping on a pile of straw. She wasn’t as beautiful as the woman in the portrait, but she had a pleasant face and radiated the freshness of youth and health. I thought to myself, here’s someone whose joyful smile is shared with everyone but me. I leaned over her and whispered, ‘Awake, my fairest! Your lover is near—he who would give anything for just one look of affection from you. My beloved, wake up!’

The sleeper stirred, and a wave of terror washed over me. What if she woke up, saw me, and cursed me as a murderer? That’s exactly what she would do if her eyes opened to find me there. The thought drove me mad; it awakened the monster inside me. Not me, but her, would suffer. The murder I committed was because I was forever denied the love she could give. She would pay for my pain. The crime stemmed from her; let her bear the consequences! Thanks to the lessons I learned from Felix and the harsh laws of humanity, I now knew how to cause harm. I leaned over her and tucked the portrait into the folds of her dress. She stirred again, and I fled.

For days, I lingered near the place where all this had happened, sometimes longing to see you, other times resolved to escape the world and its sorrows forever. Eventually, I wandered into the mountains, roaming their vast depths, consumed by a burning desire that only you can fulfill. We cannot part until you promise to meet my request. I am alone and miserable; no one wants to be around me. But someone as deformed and wretched as I am wouldn’t turn away from me. My companion must share my kind and my flaws. You must create this being.”