(it’s two hundred years since publication of Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley)
(Dear WordPress readers –
this looks sooo much better on my site)
“Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me? — Paradise Lost.”
R. WALTON:
inspirited by the wind of promise
more fervent and vivid
of beauty and delight
accompanied whale fishers
men on whom I can depend
dauntless (but I have no friend).
ice vast and irregular
a low carriage, dogs, a being
lost.
a sledge, a human
wild
“to seek one who fled from me’
I begin to love him so
my heart.
V. FRANKENSTEIN:
the ancient teachers
the instruments of life.
the eye of the creature opened
to catastrophe
the peasants were dancing
a noble war in the sky
the murders and the author—
a dream has power to endure.
THE MONSTER:
‘wretched
yet I am thy creature.
I see bliss, the caves of ice, a fire
howling like a wild beast.
‘You must create a female for me.’
V. FRANKENSTEIN:
‘never,
to the remotest of the Orkneys
a filthy process
a daemon at the casement
never!
pistols and a dagger,
ever on the watch,
but her bloodless arms,
her head hanging down,
& his fiendish finger pointed
to the corpse of my wife.
the devil eluded my grasp
I pursued him northward
the wind arose; the sea roared.
R. WALTON:
(how his fine and lovely eyes.)
Many comrades have found
a grave amidst this desolation
Wasn’t it glorious? Full of dangers and terror?
Brave men, heroes?
The cabin where lay the remains
stands a form, one vast hand.
‘And do you dream?’ said the daemon.
He was soon away,
lost in darkness and distance.
Image: Piero di Cosimo, The Myth of Prometheus, c. 1515 via Wikimedia Commons; here’s a terrific discussion on two hundred years of Frankenstein and, on a lighter note, here’s a wonderful scene from Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein (RIP: Marty Feldman as Igor (1934-1982), Peter Boyle as the Monster (1935-2006) and Gene Wilder (1933-2016)).
This is such a interesting approach. I was mesmerised by it. Well done.
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A wonderful reflection on Frankenstein, Peter. There is something about the fire and the ice that has always resonated with me, the unanswered, perhaps unanswerable, questions, reminiscent of Frankenstein Unbound (Aldiss).
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Thanks Steve, Yes, it’s a great fantastical work – and she was just a teenager when she wrote it.
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That is impressive, I didn’t know.
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