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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?

If this journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness, it would have afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had come over my existence, and I only visited these people for the sake of the information they might give me on the subject in which my interest was so terribly profound. Company was irksome to me; when alone, I could fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth; the voice of Henry soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory peace. But busy uninteresting joyous faces brought back despair to my heart. I saw an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my fellow-men; this barrier was sealed with the blood of William and Justine; and to reflect on the events connected with those names filled my soul with anguish.

But in Clerval I saw the image of my former self; he was inquisitive, and anxious to gain experience and instruction. The difference of manners which he observed was to him an inexhaustible source of instruction and amusement. He was also pursuing an object he had long had in view. His design was to visit India, in the belief that he had in his knowledge of its various languages, and in the views he had taken of its society, the means of materially assisting the progress of European colonisation and trade. In Britain only could he further the execution of his plan. He was for ever busy; and the only check to his enjoyments was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this as much as possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one who was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by any care or bitter recollection. I often refused to accompany him, alleging another engagement, that I might remain alone. I now also began to collect the materials necessary for my new creation, and this was to me like the torture of single drops of water continually falling on the head. Every thought that was devoted to it was an extreme anguish, and every word that I spoke in allusion to it caused my lips to quiver, and my heart to palpitate.

After passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person in Scotland, who had formerly been our visitor at Geneva. He mentioned the beauties of his native country, and asked us if those were not sufficient allurements to induce us to prolong our journey as far north as Perth, where he resided. Clerval eagerly desired to accept this invitation; and I, although I abhorred society, wished to view again mountains and streams, and all the wondrous works with which Nature adorns her chosen dwelling-places.