Chapters (69)
- Cover
- ALSO BY KIERSTEN WHITE
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Part One: How Can I Live Without Thee?
- Chapter One: To Be Weak Is Miserable
- Chapter Two: What Hath Night to Do with Sleep?
- Chapter Three: In Wandering Mazes Lost
- Chapter Four: Half Lost, I Seek
- Chapter Five: With Purpose to Explore or to Disturb
- Chapter Six: Round He Throws His Baleful Eyes
- Chapter Seven: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
- Chapter Eight: Horror and Doubt Distract His Troubled Thoughts
- Chapter Nine: This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light
- Chapter Ten: To Lose Thee Were to Lose Myself
- Chapter Eleven: When from Sleep I First Awaked
- Part Two: What Is Dark Within Me, Illumine
- Chapter Twelve: At Once Indebted and Discharged
- Chapter Thirteen: That All This Good of Evil Shall Produce
- Chapter Fourteen: What Can We Suffer Worse?
- Chapter Fifteen: Love or Hate, to Me Alike
- Chapter Sixteen: So Farewell Hope
- Part Three: Long Is the Way and Hard, That Out of Hell Leads Up to Light
- Chapter Seventeen: Which Way Shall I Fly
- Chapter Eighteen: His Dark Materials to Create More Worlds
- Chapter Nineteen: Should God Create Another Eve
- Chapter Twenty: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of My Bone
- Chapter Twenty-one: Him Whom to Love Is to Obey
- Chapter Twenty-two: Hail Horrors, Hail Infernal World
- Chapter Twenty-three: So Shall the World Go on, to Good Malignant, to Bad Men Benign
- Chapter Twenty-four: And Study of Revenge, Immortal Hate
- Chapter Twenty-five: Did I Request Thee, Maker, from My Clay, to Mold Me Man?
- Chapter Twenty-six: Which Way Shall I Fly
- Chapter Twenty-seven: That Must Be Our Cure: To Be No More
- Epilogue: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Excerpt from The Guinevere Deception
- About the Author
- TEACHER GUIDE, ARRANGED BY THEME
- Frankenstein
- Author’s Introduction
- Preface
- 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
- About The Modern Library
- What’s next onyour reading list?
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 in 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.