In this publication of letters from the pen of Walton, then, Victor Frankenstein is quoted as describing briefly his childhood and early youth in Geneva, as a member of that prominent family with whom you, Sir, are acquainted.
The book says that Victor's interest in natural philosophy, and in electrical phenomena in particular, was sharply awakened at age fifteen, when a giant tree was "shattered in a singular manner" before his eyes during a thunderstorm.
On this occasion (his journal continues) a man of great research in natural philosophy was with us, and excited by this catastrophe, he entered on the explanation of a theory which he had formed on the subject of electricity and galvanism, which was at once new and astonishing to me…
I suppose, Sir, you have no difficulty in recognizing yourself in this, as the "man of great research." I had none, having heard, years ago and from your own lips, the anecdote of the riven tree and the fascinated Genovese youth. Might it be that you now feel some responsibility for young Victor's later philosophical endeavors? If so I hope that you do not concern yourself unnecessarily.
To this extent, then, the Walton relation is confirmed. But we have barely started.
It was two years after the incident of the riven tree that young Frankenstein went off to the university, having wasted much of the intervening time in studying, for some reason, such ancient and long superseded authorities on nature as Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, and Albertus Magnus. As to why he then chose the university at Ingolstadt, or why, perhaps, his father chose it for him, I can discover no clue in the Walton papers. Perhaps the reason can be unearthed elsewhere.
At Ingolstadt the young student "attended the lectures and cultivated the acquaintance of the men of science," who soon disabused him of the ideas he had gained from Albertus Magnus and other half-wizards of the past. M. Waldman and M. Krempe are the only two faculty members mentioned by name in Walton's letters, both rather favorably. But as you may know, Sir, there is also at Ingolstadt a medical school of no little reputation. Frankenstein does not mention enrolling in that school, and there is no record that he did so. Still he may have attended certain classes. It may have been then that he found his attention "peculiarly attracted" to "the structure of the human frame."
Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of human life proceed? It was a bold question, and one which had never been considered as a mystery; yet with how many things are we upon the brink of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries.
He was not long at the university before determining to "apply himself more particularly to those branches of natural philosophy which relate to physiology."
To examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death. I became acquainted with the science of anatomy, but this was not sufficient; I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body. In my education my father had taken the greatest precautions that my mind should not be impressed with supernatural horrors. I do not remember ever to have trembled at a tale of superstition or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy, and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm. Now I was led to examine the cause and progress of this decay, and forced to spend days and nights in vaults and charnel houses. My attention was fixed upon every object the most insupportable to the delicacy of human feelings…
His studies continued unticlass="underline"
After days and nights of incredible labor and fatigue, I succeded in discovering the cause of generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing animation upon lifeless matter.
How he managed to perform this feat, he never says. There are only a few scattered hints throughout the book.
I have quoted all this, so far, Sir, without comment. But now let me state my own opinion more bluntly than before. It is that M. Krempe's evaluation of Frankenstein's work may well be right.
In your letter to me you say you "have good reason" to believe there is some truth in even "the strangest of these events," though you do not disclose the reason. So you will not agree, at least unconditionally, with my first assessment; and you may of course rest assured that I shall continue to do my best, whatever my personal opinion, to find out the exact truth.
One point, that continues to add fuel to my suspicions, is my failure so far to discover any witness in Ingolstadt who will admit to actually having seen the monster with his own eyes, though several, like Professor Waldman, are convinced of the truth of its existence. One witness in particular whom I have so far sought in vain is a peasant known only as Karl, or Big Karl, who frequented the lower quarters of the town, and is said by some of the townsfolk to have been employed as a laborer by Frankenstein, and sometimes seen in his company. Big Karl apparently left Ingolstadt at about the same time—three years ago—as Frankenstein himself.
To return to the Frankenstein (or at least the Walton) account. Here is the young philosopher's description of his own reactions when he realized he had discovered how to create life:
When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated for a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. Although I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to prepare a frame for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable difficulty and labor. I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organization; but my imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man… as the minuteness of the parts formed a great hindrance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make the being of a gigantic stature, that is to say, about eight feet in height, and proportionately large.
After arriving at this decision, Frankenstein "spent some months in successfully collecting and arranging his materials." The proximity of the medical school and its suppliers, who must have a stock of bodies constantly available for dissection, would, I suppose, have been of some help to him at this point. So might the sturdy Big Karl, whose comings and goings were sometimes noticed, though only when they took place in daylight.
Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay?
This, sir—if we are determined to take the matter seriously—I believe to be the most direct hint in the entire relation, as to exactly what means Frankenstein used to achieve animation—somehow the "torture," by some means, of a living animal, was essential. But not sufficient.
I collected bones from charnel-houses and disturbed, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary chamber or rather cell, at the top of the house, and separated from all the other apartments by a gallery and staircase, I kept my workshop of filthy creation; my eyeballs were starting from their sockets in attending to the details of my employment.