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    Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus
    Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus
    Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus
    Ebook298 pages3 hours

    Frankenstein: Or, The Modern Prometheus

    By Mary Shelley, Nino Carbe and Elizabeth Carbe

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    "Dover hits a homerun with this slick edition. Frankenstein has never looked so beautiful." — Horror Novel Reviews
    Generations have thrilled to Mary Shelley's 1818 novel, the suspenseful tale of a well-intentioned doctorwho dares to play God and the misbegotten monster who wreaks a savage revenge on his creator. Combining elements of Gothic novels and Romantic sensibilities, Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus poses enduring questions about ambition, responsibility, the quest for scientific discovery and immortality, and the fate of social outcasts. Acclaimed as both the first modern horror novel and the first science-fiction novel, the story has inspired countless writers and artists as well as numerous film, theatrical, and television interpretations.
    Newly designed and reset, this handsome hardbound edition reprints all of Nino Carbé's starkly beautiful pen-and-ink drawings and endpieces from one of the earliest illustrated editions of Frankenstein. Bonus images include five full-color paintings created by Carbé, a noted Walt Disney artist, in the 1980s. The artist's daughter, Elizabeth Carbé, provides a new Foreword

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDover Publications
    Release dateApr 20, 2016
    ISBN9781606601082
    Author

    Mary Shelley

    Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born in 1797, the daughter of two of the leading radical writers of the age. Her mother died just days after her birth and she was educated at home by her father and encouraged in literary pursuits. She eloped with and subsequently married the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, but their life together was full of hardship. The couple were ruined by disapproving parents and Mary lost three of her four children. Although its subject matter was extremely dark, her first novel Frankenstein (1818) was an instant sensation. Subsequent works such as Mathilda (1819), Valperga (1823) and The Last Man (1826) were less successful but are now finally receiving the critical acclaim that they deserve.

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    Reviews for Frankenstein

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    • 5/5
      A classic isn't a called a classic because it's a run-of-the-mill type of book. It's a groundbreaking novel/movie/song that inspires people and stays with you forever, and it's likely that it won't be topped in one, two or sometimes three generations. A classic is a classic because it's unique, and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is definitely a classic. The prose is beautiful, the story is gripping and the book itself is absolutely breathtaking. As far as horror is concerned, this is one of those must-have classics that you can revisit every couple of years.

      But we all know the story about Frankenstein and the monster he creates out of body parts. We all know who Igor is and what happens in the end, I mean, if you haven't read the book then you've probably watched one of the movies, right? So, instead of going on and on about the plot we all know about, I'm going to talk about the beautiful book. Seriously, this is one super pretty book. It's in Penguin Books' horror series, recently brought out for horror fans that includes five other fantastic titles (American Supernatural Tales was one of them). This is one pretty edition for one creepy tale ... in other words, you'll freaking love it if you have a thing for horror books. Also, I'm pretty sure it'll be a collectors edition in the not-so-distant future.


      If that doesn't appeal to you, and you need a little something extra, rest assured that I can sweeten the pot for those folks on the edge. Guillermo Del Toro is the series' editor and there's a nice little introduction by him. Yes, he's not all movies all the time, sometimes this horror director makes time for books too!


      So, yes it's pretty, yes it's a great edition and yes, the editing is great. As far as I'm concerned you can donate your other editions of Frankenstein to the less fortunate, because this one just looks so much better on a bookshelf.

    • 5/5
      This is the second or third time I've read this and it's just as marvelous as before. A tale within a tale within a tale by a literary mastermind at the height of her genius.
    • 2/5
      Disappointing, especially for such a highly regarded "classic". 5% action, 95% describing how everyone *feels* about what just happened.
    • 2/5
      Seminal fantasy work, one of the early defining books of fantasy genre. Shame it isn't more readable though I suspect that's just my more modern tastes.
    • 5/5
      Amazing book. It's so much more than I thought it would be. Very interesting!
    • 4/5
      A chilling tale! I read this in high school, which was a while ago, but even thinking about it now gives me the creeps.
    • 5/5
      It's a wonderful, intense and superbly written novel.Don't be afraid to read it even if you don't like the genre.
    • 5/5
      Considered by many to be the first science fiction novel.
    • 3/5
      I have thought, but this being a classic piece of literature, I'm not going to write them down for posterity. That never served me well in lit classes, and I don't foresee it going well on the internet.
    • 3/5
      This is another one I'd just never gotten around to reading. The story is far from what popular culture has made of it (I confess I was most familiar with the Young Frankenstein version) The monster is much more vocal and interesting. Victor is kind of a weenie and it's all a bit overwrought. I listened to the audiobook from the classic tales podcast and the narrator was pretty good, obviously enjoying all the "begone!s" and "wretchs"
    • 3/5
      I love this book so much more than any of the movie adaptations I've ever seen (actually, for anyone seeking horror and thrill in a story, this may be a huge disappointment), but in comparison to other novels of that genre and time period it's far from being flawless.I love the ideas in this story - the idea that one has to take responsibility for their creations, the idea that a being can be as gentle and good as a lamb, it will inevitably become a monster if it experiences nothing but rejection, the idea that just because something is scientifically possible doesn't mean that it should be done. Despite all the Romantic dressing up in this novel that makes it very clearly a product of its age, these premises are still modern and relevant.My gripe is with the characters. I'm aware that this is probably the 21st century reader in me, but - gods almighty, that Victor is a pathetic, self-absorbed piece of selfpity, full of "woe is me", much more fixated on his own emotions and tragic history than on the danger he has released carelessly on the world and without much reflection about his own role in this disaster. All his relationships seem shallow and superficial, and the only woman with a meaningful role in the story gets classically fridged to give him the final push.One day I'll have to read an adaptation from the wretch's point of view. His actions, reactions and justifications seem so much more interesting than Victor's.
    • 5/5
      Frankenstein is one of my all-time favorite books, but it's important to understand why people like my enjoy it. If you haven't read the book, it may not be what you think.I love Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. To be clear, she is not the best author ever. Some aspects of her writing are a little juvenile and at times ever downright boring. Even though she herself was a woman, her female characters tend to be somewhat shallow and idealistic. Nevertheless, Shelley has a unique and gifted mind that is almost even prophetic in character. Her novel "The Last Man," for example, is one of the first to imagine the extinction of the human race, which is now a real possibility and an important area of thought. Similarly, Frankenstein is not altogether novel, since it builds heavily on earlier Romantic language, concepts, and images especially from Goethe and Mary's husband Percy Shelley. Nevertheless, she outdoes them by imagining in a prophetic way what the technological creation of new life could mean for the human person.With this in mind, let's be clear that Frankenstein is NOT a scary book, NOT about some dim-witted or pathetic monster, and NOT a source of cheap chills and thrills. It is first and foremost about the scientist who creates the monster. He does so out of a genius that unites both modern science and premodern thinking. Specifically how he makes the monster is beside the point; Shelley is secretive on this matter so that we do not get lost. It is not evident, for example, that he makes it from corpses; he uses corpses for study, but he seems to fashion the monster directly.The principle point of the book, therefore, is the emotion of Frankenstein as he comes to terms with his own creation. That which he fashioned to be beautiful, wonderful, superior to humanity turns out in fact to be hideous, ugly, and terrifying. The monster is superior to his maker in intelligence and power but not morality, and this forces Frankenstein to face his own unworthiness as a creator.Thus while Frankenstein the book is born out of Romantic ideas about the genius, the excellence of humanity, and the transcendence of the Promethean man--the one who dares to challenge the gods by taking upon himself the act of creation--it also profoundly serves as a counterpoint to the same Romantic spirit. This new Prometheus turns out to be a mere, weak man, who cannot quite come to terms with what he has created. Thus like her book "The Last Man," Shelley poses a vital question: Is humanity really still the gem of creation, or will the transcending force of nature ultimately leave us behind in the dust from whence we came?Frankenstein is thus a book that every reader of English should engage at some time. It would help, however, to have some familiarity with Romanticism (see an encyclopedia) and to spend some time reading some poems by other Romantic writers such as Percy Shelley. A brief look into Mary Wollstonecraft's Shelley biography might help as well, since I would argue that she is deeply shaped by the continual tragedies of her life, including the loss of her mother at an early age and a complex relationship with her father.
    • 4/5
      My sympathies are with the monster. Victor von Frankenstein was a responsibility-avoiding, self-absorbed jerk!
    • 4/5
      As an eight year old child, I found myself in love with horror films. It was a Scholastic Press survey of horror cinema for children which appeared to crystallize this fascination. It was terrible time for a kid. We had moved twice in four years and my mom had left. My dad was traveling for work and a series of housekeepers and sitters were keeping the home fires burning. It is no surprise that I was reading all the time and staying up too late watching inappropriate films on television. That said, I was never drawn to Frankenstein.

      The father of some neighborhood friends used to proclaim the superiority of all the Universal films, especially to the hyper-gore films of the late 70s. I could agree with Bela Lugosi or Claude Rains (as the Invisible Man) but I wasn't moved by Lon Cheney Jr's Wolf Man or the lump of clay which was Frankenstein's monster. It remains elusive to distinguish.

      It was with muted hopes that I finally read Frankenstein this past week. I was pleasantly surprised by the rigid plot which slowly shifts, allowing the Madness of the Fallen to Reap Vengeance on the Creator (and vice versa). Sure, it is laden with symbols and encoded thoughts on Reason, Science and Class. Frankenstein remains an engaging novel by a teenager, one doomed by fate. It is prescient and foreboding. Highly recommended.
    • 4/5
      Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.
      I have to admit, I was somewhat weary of this book. Despite its short page count, it is very wordy and has long, large paragraphs, and that made the prospect of reading this rather daunting. However, I swallowed my pride and did it, and was greatly rewarded.

      I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
      Frankenstein and his creature are both so interesting and complex; they're also both so pitiful. So much of their anguish and sorrow could have been avoided if not for human pride. They are both agents of horror and destruction in both action and inaction, and that made for a really interesting story.

      Besides that, it's extremely quotable.

      Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.
      I was amazed at how Hollywood has continuously gotten the story wrong, so much so that this book felt entirely unique and the twists were effective. I don't know whether I should scorn or love Hollywood for their utter failure to accurately adapt this book into a faithful film. On one hand, this book deserves a great movie. On the other, the plot integrity of a very old book was maintained. The television show Penny Dreadful had a Frankenstein story line that was remarkably close to the source material considering, and the few big changes it made were justified in the larger story.

      I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.
      The themes in this were amazing! I love complex characters and dark, ambiguous morality in my literature. To be completely honest, I sympathized with Frankenstein way more than the monster, which I hadn't thought I would going into it. I loved both characters though.

      Overall, it's a great book with an awesome story, and everyone should read it.
    • 5/5
      Despite its 19th century style and vocabulary this story still horrifies, partly because the gruesome details are left to the imagination. Victor Frankenstein does not reveal how he reanimates the creature. Stephen King would have spent several bloody chapters arranging the guts and brains and eyeballs. The motion picture image of the creature is only supported by Shelley’s description of the watery yellow eyes and the straight black lips. The pearly white teeth, lustrous flowing black hair, limbs in proportion, and beautiful features give a more godlike aspect to the monster. The violence is barely described. A dead body with finger prints on its throat. An execution. Some screams and sticks and stones to drive the creature out of a cottage. Even the death of Victor’s fiancee is but a muffled scream in a distant bedroom and a body on the bed. The true horror is symbolic, mythical, ethical, and metaphysical. Mary Shelley describes the consequences of hubris in prose while her husband gives a similar image poetically in Ozymandias. “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.”
    • 5/5
      Why did I wait so long to read this? An excellent novel and highly recommended. Wonderful.
    • 4/5
      An important book. Mary Shelley is methodical, but also swept up in the Sturm-und-Drang emotionality of the period. Her characters have motivations, psychological depth, passions.
    • 5/5
      It's taken me 70 years to read this classic. Ironically enough, I started reading it because I was reading a children's version of this book to my four-year-old grandson, and I did not want his book to put spoilers into my own classic story which I started reading simultaneously.Wow! What a novel! I never knew the "real" story of Frankenstein, nor did I know that Frankenstein was the name of the doctor who created the monster rather than the monster himself.This novel was written in 1818 by a nineteen-year-old. Another "Wow!" needs to be inserted here. The story is magnificently written. I never much in the past liked to read nineteenth-century novels, but I did learn to appreciate them more with tutored reads of selected older novels provided so kindly to me by a fellow member of LibraryThing. What I learned to do with those novels was to take notes on the story, the characters, and keep a running vocabulary. This bailed me out quite a few times during the reading of this novel as I simply cannot keep all this information in my head.What I found exceptional in this novel was the dense storyline which in some places was truly beautiful despite the grim nature of the story. This was a book about friendship (or the lack thereof) and of courage (in many different forms).I especially liked this quote from late in the story:Even where the affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain.Although people associate [Frankenstein] with horror, I will only now associate that word and the novel with sadness. It is a sad world in which we live in where some of us judge others by appearance rather than by inner motive. This novel only serves to accentuate that kind of sadness (and wrongness) and puts the face of a monster we call "Frankenstein" to that kind of sentiment.
    • 4/5
      probably a 3 for pure enjoyment, but the meta fascination of how it has fit into our culture and shaped our storytelling is a huge bonus.plus she was like 18 when she wrote things because they were bored at a house party.
    • 4/5
      Halloween re-read. Pure love.
    • 4/5
      What a classic. I've read it several times and every time find something new to admire. And at the heart, that great message that the real monster lies within.
    • 5/5
      This book isn't scary so much as it is sad, so definitely keep a box of tissues nearby when you read this.

      While I feel badly for all the characters involved, and while I don't condone the actions of the "Monster," I do definitely feel the need to mention that Victor Frankenstein is an extraordinarily oblivious and self-centered person. At least that was my perception of him.

      The book itself wasn't difficult to read and was extremely engaging, despite the fact that it was first published in the 1800's and you could really tell by the writing style. At first it was a little difficult, but not much, and I got used to it pretty quickly and soon found it to be almost lyrical. Not quite, but almost. There were times when it seemed to edge a bit on purple prose, but it wasn't in an irritating way.

      I found this book to be extremely engaging and I had a hard time putting it down from the start. It makes you think and engages your emotions as well as your reasoning. I would definitely recommend this book, even to people who don't usually like sci-fi or older books.
    • 4/5
      Much better plot than the movies. Monster created by the meddling hands of man (the modern Prometheus of the subtitle) yet made evil by man's lack of compassion. Victor spends years studying how to create life and when he does so he immediately runs away. He is not the most robust of men. He swoons, holidays for months and runs away throughout the book. Frankenstein is a bit of an idiot really and his creation has more substance. The conversations between the two were highlights.

      At times it was slightly surreal (aside from the basic plot). The monster stalking Victor like his nemesis all over Europe and indeed to the Arctic. When he appears suddenly on a remote Orkney island where Victor is trying to create a female version for the monster was almost farcical. I was almost laughing out loud at this point.

      I enjoyed this but the style was a bit flowery and bloated and some perseverance is required. Worth it though.
    • 3/5
      This is the first time I read the classic Frankenstein. I've seen movies and read variations. They always make the monster seem so relatable. However, after reading the original story, I find the monster to be malevolent and detestable. It wasn't his fault that Victor gave him life and made him hideous. I understand him being angry and lonely and lost. I get that he is looking for someone to understand him and accept him for who he is. And I get that he blames Victor, with good cause. But he kills innocents. I enjoyed the story and felt awful for Victor. He made a huge mistake and he paid dearly for it.
    • 5/5
      Why did I wait so long to read this? An excellent novel and highly recommended. Wonderful.
    • 4/5
      Not at all what I was expecting. Have seen many movie adaptations and the book is far better. Loved it.
    • 4/5
      A classic.
    • 4/5
      It was good:)
    • 4/5
      For those who have not read the novel and only been subjected to film versions, it's "nothing" like the movies. The doctor, not the monster, is named Frankenstein and, the monster fully develops as a sentient being, not as a green, square-headed zombie with bolts stuck in the side of his head! The story is heavily influenced by Milton's Paradise Lost and some radical social theory at the time, something along the lines that a man's nature is most profoundly influenced in reaction to his societal upbringing, an earlier version of "it takes a village."

      Frankenstein is a book that definitely bears rereading. There are multiple layers and approaches to take to the story: literally, emotionally, philosophically and metaphorically. On the basic linear narrative level, it is the story of Victor Frankenstein, a young ambitious man who leaves home and pursues his studies in Ingolstadt, Germany. His interests lie in the life sciences and his passion leads him to the secret of reanimating dead flesh into a living, sentient being. Mary Shelley, pulls the reader into the pathos and angst of both Frankenstein and his unnamed creature by creating pathos- and angst-ridden first person narratives into the story for both characters. Philosophically, there's plenty of material to vet: theism, existentialism, free will, fate vs destiny, Nature vs Nurture... The author makes several allusions to Milton's Paradise Lost; but comparisons to Dante's Inferno from The Divine Comedy are equally obvious and relevant. Milton's and Dante's works deal with the fall from divine grace and the soul's state of disgrace and, like Milton's and Dante's works, the listener cannot help but wonder if the story of Frankenstein is also a reflection of an interior journey.

      Simon Vance narrates the Tantor edition of Frankenstein. HIs consummate skill with character-work comes to the fore and, bears an uncanny resemblance to his voices for The Millennuim Trilogy :-)

      Redacted from the original blog review at dog eared copy, Frankenstein; 11/04/2011

    Book preview

    Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

    Copyright (c) 2016 by Calla Editions

    All rights reserved.

    Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus, first published by Calla Editions in 2016, contains all of the text and illustrations from the Illustrated Library Edition, originally published by Halcyon House, Garden City, New York, in 1932. Five color illustrations by Nino Carbé have been added to this edition.

    Book design by Jason Snyder

    International Standard Book Number

    ISBN-13: 978-1-60660-089-4

    ISBN-10: 0-486-60660-089-3

    CALLA EDITIONS

    An imprint of Dover Publications, Inc.

    www.callaeditions.com

    Printed in China by RR Donnelley

    CONTENTS

    Foreword

    Chapter I

    Chapter II

    chapter III

    Chapter IV

    Chapter V

    Chapter VI

    Chapter VII

    Chapter VIII

    Chapter IX

    Chapter X

    Chapter XI

    Chapter XII

    Chapter XIII

    Chapter XIV

    Chapter XV

    Chapter XVI

    Chapter XVII

    Chapter XVIII

    Chapter XIX

    Chapter XX

    Chapter XXI

    Chapter XXII

    Chapter XXIII

    Chapter XXIV

    FOREWORD

    ANTONINO CARBÉ was born on March 12th, 1909 in Avola, Sicily and immigrated to the United States with his family four years later.

    Nino’s natural artistic and musical abilities became apparent at a very early age. In addition to his regular school work, he worked as a paint boy and apprentice for the already-established Hungarian artist, Willy Pogány and also studied the violin. Nino painted murals on walls in the local theaters and picked up any other job where he could apply his artistic talents. In his early teens, he learned the art of batik from two men who referred to themselves as Russian princes, helping them make beautiful silk scarves adorned with original art. When he was sixteen, Nino lied about his age so he could attend the school of art at Cooper Union in New York City, where he studied line drawing and painting and learned to airbrush. During this period, his violin teacher was preparing him to audition for the local symphony. However, with so much responsibility on his shoulders, Nino felt that he needed to focus on either art or music. Much to the disappointment of his teacher, visual art became his main focus.

    When Nino was in his early twenties, he sent in some illustrations to a publishing company that was looking for illustrations for a new edition of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein. He quickly got a response asking him to do all the illustrations for the book. His introspective nature, along with the many hours he spent discussing spirituality, philosophy, and art with his friends helped shape Nino’s vision of Dr. Frankenstein’s creation. His love of fantasy and the macabre is apparent in the illustrations he made of Doctor Frankenstein’s creation; however, he also captures the human suffering of a man in search of his maker, and the pain that turns to anger when he is rejected by the doctor who gave him life. Perhaps it was growing up in a difficult situation, in a tough neighborhood among struggling immigrants that gave him the insight and empathy to create such a complex characterization. Nino portrayed a creation that was a deformed man, not a monster. He put a face and a heart to the character that showed his sadness and torment.

    The illustrations in this edition were part of the edition released in 1932 by Illustrated Editions appears to be the first illustrated version since the original release in 1831. Nino later illustrated the Three Sirens Press edition of Edmund Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac (1931) and the Tales of the Arabian Nights section of Eastern Love Stories, published by Shakespeare House (1951).

    Just before the Great Depression, Nino took a much-needed vacation to Connecticut, where he spent the summer. Unfortunately, upon his return he found himself without a job and standing in the unemployment line with hundreds of other artists. There was one job to be had and Nino got it–retouching pictures placed in front of New York City theaters.

    In 1936, wanting a change, and to explore new possibilities he packed up his car and drove across the country to see what California had to offer.

    Upon arriving in California, he was hired by Walt Disney as an airbrush artist, a skill very few had at the time. Nino was always drawing imaginative sketches and doodles, leaving them all over his desk. During the making of the movie Fantasia, Nino did a little sketch of a fairy coming out of a dandelion. Walt saw Nino’s drawing and the next day he was moved up to the storyboard and layout department. That same fairy-dandelion sketch evolved into the Sugar Plum Fairy sequence in Fantasia. He continued to work for Disney from 1938 to 1946, working on such classics as Bambi, Pinocchio, Make Mine Music, and Dumbo.

    With the advent of World War II, many artists stayed at work, rather than joining the armed forces overseas, to help with what was known as the home front effort. Nino was among the creative artists who were requested to stay on at the studios, working on propaganda films like Victory Through Air and Armed Services medical training films.

    In 1946 Nino decided to return to the east coast, eventually buying a house in Connecticut. Throughout this time he illustrated books, designed greeting cards for American Artists and Book of the Month Club, and generated fabric designs. He also pursued woodworking, making several cabinets for his new home.

    In 1963 he took his family back to Hollywood and returned to Disney Studios, working on The Jungle Book right before Walt Disney died. After Disney’s death, the Disney Studios changed quite a bit and, having lost his seniority, he found himself looking for work again. He worked on Woody Woodpecker and Chilly Willy for the Walter Lantz Studios, then moved on to Hanna-Barbera (where he worked on Spiderman) as well as Filmation and DePatie-Freleng (The Pink Panther). In 1976 and 1977, Nino worked on a lost classic–the original version of Sanrio Productions’ Metamorphosis. In 1978 he went to work for Ralph Bakshi, when Bakshi was just starting to work on the first animated feature of The Lord of the Rings. This movie contained some unprecedented live-action-to-animation sequences that had never been attempted before to the scale eventually achieved. Nino worked on helping to integrate the two mediums.

    In the 1980s, he started to paint more for himself than he ever had in the past. He painted in watercolors, oils, and acrylics and created line drawings in pencil and charcoal, giving full rein to his love and fascination with mythology. He painted Jason and the Golden Fleece, Medusa, as well as a third little mermaid (that he added to the two he painted in 1954). Influenced by his work on The Lord of the Rings, he painted an oil of a skeletal man on a skeletal horse, entitled The Messenger, then later, expanding his talents once again, created a metal sculpture of the painting.

    In 1982 Nino was contacted by Nile-Biblioteket asking if he would design a painting for the cover art of a Danish reissue of Frankenstein. This reignited his passion for the story. After painting the cover art, he created four more paintings of Frankenstein in various forms of transformation. The cover showed the doctor reading from a book as he worked on his creation; the first painting has the doctor working in his lab; the second has the creation waking up and taking his first step; the third has him searching for his creator and finding the doctor sleeping, and the fourth shows only his face with a tear in his eye. In 1990, he made a serigraph of the original cover art, which was a thirty eight-screen process Nino did with the help of Victor Sanchez.

    Nino enjoyed collecting antiques and woodcarvings. He was a fabulous cook, enjoyed reading, and the opera. He loved his family and friends and always enjoyed a good laugh. Nino was active and creative until his 1993 death at his home in Glendale, California.

    ELIZABETH CARBÉ

    LETTER I

    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 day dreams 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 tranquillize 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’s 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 adventure 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 intreated 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 stage-coach. 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.

    LETTER II

    To Mrs Saville, England.

    Archangel, March 28th, 17—.

    How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow! yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel, and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom I have already engaged, appear to be men on whom I can depend and are certainly possessed of dauntless courage.

    But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy; and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathise with me; whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution, and too impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common, and read nothing but our uncle Thomas’s books of voyages. At that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction, that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my native country. Now I am twenty-eight and am in reality more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more, and that my day dreams are more extended and magnificent, but they want (as the painters call it) keeping; and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind.

    Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. Yet some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even in these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory: or rather, to word my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in his profession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and professional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of the noblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel: finding that he was unemployed in this city, I easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise.

    The master is a person of an excellent disposition, and is remarkable in the ship for his gentleness and the mildness of his discipline. This circumstance, added to his well-known integrity and dauntless courage, made me very desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed it to be necessary, and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for his kindliness of heart and the respect and obedience paid to him by his crew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate in being able to secure his services. I heard of him first in rather a romantic manner, from a lady who owes to him the happiness of her life. This, briefly, is his story. Some years ago he loved a young Russian lady of moderate fortune; and having amassed a considerable sum in prize-money, the father of the girl consented to the match. He saw his mistress once before the destined ceremony; but she was bathed in tears, and, throwing herself at his feet, intreated him to spare her, confessing at the time that she loved another, but that he was poor, and that her father would never consent to the union. My generous friend reassured the suppliant, and on being informed of the name of her lover, instantly abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, on which he had designed to pass the remainder of his life; but he bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the remains of his prize-money to purchase stock, and then himself solicited the young woman’s father to consent to her marriage with her lover. But the old man decidedly refused, thinking himself bound in honour to my friend; who, when he found the father inexorable, quitted his country, nor returned until he heard that his former mistress was married according to her inclinations. What a noble fellow! you will exclaim. He is so; but then he is wholly uneducated: he is as silent as a Turk, and a kind of ignorant carelessness attends him, which, while it renders his conduct the more astonishing, detracts from the interest and sympathy which otherwise he would command.

    Yet do not suppose, because I complain a little, or because I can conceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I am wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate, and my voyage is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The winter has been dreadfully severe, but the spring promises well, and it is considered as a remarkably early season; so that perhaps I may sail sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly: you know me sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the safety of others is committed to my care.

    I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of the trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions to the land of mist and snow; but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not be alarmed for my safety, or if I should come back to you as worn and woeful as the Ancient Mariner. You will smile at my allusion; but I will disclose a secret. I have often attributed my attachment to, my passionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of the ocean, to that production of the most imaginative of modern poets. There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand. I am practically industrious—painstaking;—a workman to execute with perseverance and labour:—but besides this, there is a love for the marvellous, a belief in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisited regions I am about to explore.

    But to return to dearer considerations. Shall I meet you again, after having traversed immense seas, and returned by the most southern cape of Africa

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