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Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY KIERSTEN WHITE
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part One: How Can I Live Without Thee?
  6. Chapter One: To Be Weak Is Miserable
  7. Chapter Two: What Hath Night to Do with Sleep?
  8. Chapter Three: In Wandering Mazes Lost
  9. Chapter Four: Half Lost, I Seek
  10. Chapter Five: With Purpose to Explore or to Disturb
  11. Chapter Six: Round He Throws His Baleful Eyes
  12. Chapter Seven: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
  13. Chapter Eight: Horror and Doubt Distract His Troubled Thoughts
  14. Chapter Nine: This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light
  15. Chapter Ten: To Lose Thee Were to Lose Myself
  16. Chapter Eleven: When from Sleep I First Awaked
  17. Part Two: What Is Dark Within Me, Illumine
  18. Chapter Twelve: At Once Indebted and Discharged
  19. Chapter Thirteen: That All This Good of Evil Shall Produce
  20. Chapter Fourteen: What Can We Suffer Worse?
  21. Chapter Fifteen: Love or Hate, to Me Alike
  22. Chapter Sixteen: So Farewell Hope
  23. Part Three: Long Is the Way and Hard, That Out of Hell Leads Up to Light
  24. Chapter Seventeen: Which Way Shall I Fly
  25. Chapter Eighteen: His Dark Materials to Create More Worlds
  26. Chapter Nineteen: Should God Create Another Eve
  27. Chapter Twenty: Flesh of Flesh, Bone of My Bone
  28. Chapter Twenty-one: Him Whom to Love Is to Obey
  29. Chapter Twenty-two: Hail Horrors, Hail Infernal World
  30. Chapter Twenty-three: So Shall the World Go on, to Good Malignant, to Bad Men Benign
  31. Chapter Twenty-four: And Study of Revenge, Immortal Hate
  32. Chapter Twenty-five: Did I Request Thee, Maker, from My Clay, to Mold Me Man?
  33. Chapter Twenty-six: Which Way Shall I Fly
  34. Chapter Twenty-seven: That Must Be Our Cure: To Be No More
  35. Epilogue: I Sung of Chaos and Eternal Night
  36. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  37. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  38. Excerpt from The Guinevere Deception
  39. About the Author
  40. TEACHER GUIDE, ARRANGED BY THEME
  41. Frankenstein
  42. Author’s Introduction
  43. Preface
  44. Chapter I
  45. Chapter II
  46. Chapter III
  47. Chapter IV
  48. Chapter V
  49. Chapter VI
  50. Chapter VII
  51. Chapter VIII
  52. Chapter IX
  53. Chapter X
  54. Chapter XI
  55. Chapter XII
  56. Chapter XIII
  57. Chapter XIV
  58. Chapter XV
  59. Chapter XVI
  60. Chapter XVII
  61. Chapter XVIII
  62. Chapter XIX
  63. Chapter XX
  64. Chapter XXI
  65. Chapter XXII
  66. Chapter XXIII
  67. Chapter XXIV
  68. About The Modern Library
  69. What’s next onyour reading list?

“How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein: I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity: but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing? they spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they are kinder to me than your fellow-beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale: when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me: listen to me; and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your hands.”

“Why do you call to my remembrance,” I rejoined, “circumstances, of which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable origin and author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the hands that formed you! You have made me wretched beyond expression. You have left me no power to consider whether I am just to you or not. Begone! relieve me from the sight of your detested form.”