Chapter 4
by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
From that day on, natural philosophyâespecially chemistryâbecame my primary focus. I dove into the works of modern thinkers, filled with brilliance and insight, eager to learn everything I could about these subjects. I attended lectures and made connections with the scientists at the university. Even M. Krempe, despite his off-putting appearance and demeanor, offered a wealth of practical knowledge that I found invaluable. But it was M. Waldman who became my true ally. His gentle nature was free from any hint of arrogance, and he shared his knowledge with such openness and warmth that it made learning feel effortless. He guided me through complex topics, making even the most challenging concepts accessible.
At first, my dedication wavered, but as I continued, my passion grew stronger. Soon, I was so absorbed in my work that the stars faded from view as dawn broke, and I was still lost in my experiments.
Given my intense focus, it was no surprise that my progress was swift. My enthusiasm astonished my fellow students, and my skills impressed my professors. Professor Krempe would often tease me with a knowing smile about my fascination with Cornelius Agrippa, while M. Waldman celebrated my achievements with genuine pride. Two years flew by in this manner. I didnât return to Geneva, fully immersed in my quest for new discoveries. Only those who have felt its pull can truly understand the allure of science. In other fields, you reach a limit; you learn everything thatâs been discovered. But in science, thereâs always more to uncover, more wonders waiting to be revealed. A person of average intellect who dedicates themselves to a single pursuit can achieve remarkable proficiency. I was so focused on my goal that by the end of those two years, I had made significant advancements in chemical instruments, earning me respect and admiration at the university.
Once I reached this level of understandingâwell-versed in both the theory and practice of natural philosophy as taught by the professors at IngolstadtâI considered returning to my friends and my hometown. But then something happened that extended my stay.
One phenomenon that particularly captivated me was the structure of the human body and, indeed, any living creature. I often pondered the source of life. It was a bold question, one that has long been shrouded in mystery. Yet, how close we often are to understanding so much, if only fear or indifference didnât hold us back. I reflected on this and decided to focus more intently on the branches of natural philosophy related to physiology. Without an almost supernatural enthusiasm driving me, my studies would have felt tedious and unbearable. To understand the essence of life, I had to confront death.
I delved into anatomy, but that wasnât enough; I needed to witness the natural decay and corruption of the human body. My father had taken great care to ensure that I was not haunted by supernatural fears. I canât recall ever being frightened by ghost stories or the thought of spirits. Darkness didnât disturb my imagination, and a graveyard was simply a resting place for bodies that had once been vibrant and strong, now reduced to nourishment for worms. Yet, I found myself compelled to study the causes and processes of decay, spending countless days and nights in vaults and charnel houses.
I focused on the most unsettling aspects of human existence. I watched as the beautiful form of a person deteriorated, as life faded from rosy cheeks to the pallor of death. I saw how the wonders of the eye and brain became the inheritance of worms. I paused to examine and analyze every detail of the transition from life to death and then, perhaps, back to life. In the midst of this darkness, a sudden light broke throughâa light so brilliant and astonishing, yet so simple, that I was left dizzy by the vastness of the possibilities it revealed. I was astonished that among so many brilliant minds who had explored this same field, it was I who had stumbled upon such an incredible secret.
I want you to understand that Iâm not sharing the ramblings of a madman. The sun shines in the sky just as surely as what Iâm about to tell you is true. Some miracle might have brought it about, but the steps I took to get there were clear and logical.
After countless days and nights of exhausting work, I finally uncovered the secret of creation and life. Even more astonishing, I discovered that I could bring life to lifeless matter.
At first, I was overwhelmed by astonishment, but that quickly transformed into joy and exhilaration. After all the hard work, reaching the pinnacle of my ambitions was the most satisfying conclusion to my struggles. Yet, the enormity of my discovery overshadowed the journey that led me there, and all I could see was the outcome. What had been the pursuit of the greatest minds since the dawn of time was now within my reach. It wasnât as if everything suddenly revealed itself to me; rather, the knowledge I gained served to guide my efforts toward my goal, rather than presenting the completed vision. I felt like an Arabian buried with the dead who had found a path back to life, illuminated only by a faint and seemingly useless light.
I can see the eagerness in your eyes, my friend, the wonder and hope that you expect to hear the secret I possess. But I canât share that with you just yet; please listen patiently until I finish my story, and youâll understand why I hold back. I wonât lead you down the same reckless path I took, one that could only lead to your ruin and inevitable despair. Learn from my experience, if not through my words, then through my actions, how perilous the pursuit of knowledge can be. Itâs far better to be someone who believes their hometown is the entire world than to be someone who strives for greatness beyond their natural limits.
When I realized the incredible power I had in my hands, I hesitated for a long time about how to use it. Although I had the ability to give life, creating a body capable of receiving that lifeâwith all its complex fibers, muscles, and veinsâwas a daunting task. I initially wondered whether I should create a being like myself or something simpler. But my imagination was too fired up by my initial success to doubt my ability to bring to life a creature as intricate and extraordinary as a human. The materials I had at my disposal didnât seem sufficient for such a monumental task, yet I was confident I would eventually succeed. I braced myself for setbacks; my efforts might be thwarted repeatedly, and my creation might end up flawed. Still, considering the rapid advancements in science and mechanics, I held onto hope that my current attempts would at least lay the groundwork for future achievements. I didnât see the scale and complexity of my plan as a reason to deem it impossible. With these thoughts in mind, I began the process of creating a human being.
No one could truly understand the whirlwind of emotions that propelled me forward, like a storm, in the initial thrill of my success. Life and death felt like boundaries I was destined to break, a chance to flood our dark world with light. A new species would honor me as its creator and source; many joyful and remarkable beings would owe their existence to me. No father could ever earn the gratitude of his child as completely as I would deserve from mine. As I pondered these thoughts, I believed that if I could animate lifeless matter, perhaps one dayâthough it seemed impossible nowâI could restore life to those who had succumbed to death and decay.
These thoughts lifted my spirits as I threw myself into my work with relentless passion. My cheeks had grown pale from long hours of study, and my body had become thin from confinement. Often, just when I felt I was on the verge of a breakthrough, I would stumble, yet I clung to the hope that tomorrow or even the next hour might bring success. The one secret I held close was the hope that had consumed me; the moon watched over my midnight efforts as I pursued nature into her hidden corners.
Who could imagine the horrors of my secret labor as I sifted through the dampness of graves or tortured living creatures to breathe life into lifeless clay? My limbs trembled, and my eyes blurred with the memories, but at that moment, an unstoppable, almost frantic urge pushed me onward. I felt as if I had lost all sense of self except for this singular obsession. It was merely a fleeting trance, one that left me feeling even more acutely aware once the unnatural drive faded and I returned to my previous habits.
I gathered bones from charnel houses and, with sacrilegious hands, unearthed the terrifying mysteries of the human body. In a solitary chamber at the top of the house, cut off from the rest of the world by a staircase and a gallery, I maintained my workshop of grotesque creation. My eyes bulged from their sockets as I focused on the details of my work. The dissecting room and the slaughterhouse provided much of my material, and often, my human nature recoiled in disgust at what I was doing. Yet still, driven by an ever-growing eagerness, I brought my project closer to completion.
The summer months slipped by as I immersed myself completely in this one pursuit. It was a stunning season; the fields offered a bountiful harvest, and the vines produced a rich vintage, but I was blind to nature's beauty. The same feelings that made me ignore the world around me also caused me to forget my friends, who were far away and whom I hadnât seen in ages. I knew my silence worried them, and I recalled my father's words: âI know that as long as you are happy with yourself, you will think of us fondly, and we will hear from you regularly. Please forgive me for considering any lapse in your correspondence as a sign that you are neglecting your other responsibilities.â
I understood well how my father would feel, but I couldnât pull my thoughts away from my work, which was repulsive yet had taken an unshakeable grip on my imagination. I wanted to postpone all matters of affection until the grand goal that consumed every part of my being was achieved.
I believed my father would be unfair to attribute my neglect to vice or fault on my part, but now I realize he had every right to think I was not entirely blameless. A perfect human being should always maintain a calm and peaceful mind, never allowing passion or fleeting desires to disrupt their tranquility. I donât believe the pursuit of knowledge is an exception to this principle. If the study you engage in weakens your affections and destroys your appreciation for simple pleasures that are pure, then that study is undeniably wrong, unworthy of the human mind. If this principle were always followed; if no one allowed any pursuit to interfere with the peace of their domestic affections, Greece would not have been enslaved, CĂŠsar would have spared his homeland, America would have been discovered more gradually, and the empires of Mexico and Peru would not have fallen.
But I digress; I find myself moralizing at the most gripping part of my story, and your expressions remind me to continue.
My father didnât blame me in his letters. Instead, he seemed to notice my silence by asking more about what I was up to than he had before. Winter, spring, and summer slipped by while I worked, but I didnât pay attention to the blooming flowers or the budding leavesâthings that used to bring me so much joy. I was so absorbed in my work that I barely noticed the seasons changing. By the time my project was nearing completion, the leaves had already fallen, and each passing day made it clearer how successful I had been.
Yet, my excitement was tempered by anxiety. I felt more like a prisoner forced to labor in a mine or some other grim occupation than an artist immersed in his passion. Each night, I was plagued by a lingering fever, and my nerves were on edge to an unbearable degree. The simple sound of a falling leaf would startle me, and I avoided other people as if I had committed a crime.
At times, I was alarmed by the state I had fallen into. Only the strength of my determination kept me going. I told myself my work would soon be finished, and I believed that once it was done, I could find some exercise and fun to shake off the creeping illness. I promised myself those things would come once my creation was complete.