Literature: A Frankenstein FAQ, Question 8

To Mr. Walton, St. Petersburgh

England, Jan. 13, 17--

Oh dear brother, I am truly happy for your optimistic forethoughts but yet there is still an itch in my heart that warns me of true danger to this celebrated voyage of your undertaking. Robert, ever since you were but an infant you dreamed of altering the state of humanity. At first you studied the voyages of men like Cartier and Columbus but you grew tired of this and made a liking towards the classics. You say you wished to achieve the mastery of the poem yet even though you intrigued my fancy it was not good enough to compare to that of Homer or Shakespeare, and thus inadequate. And now once again you wish to change the world as we percieve it by discovering the North Pole. Can you not see, Robert, that you only failed at leading the role of the poet because you set the criterion much too high? I can see this happening once again. You seem to believe it is fixed fate that you shall rise to the top of the world on an adventurous, yet dangerous journey that could very easily prove to be the demise of you or the elevation of your psyche. Oh, Robert, I mean not to depress your spirits or foretell a dark future. I only mean to see what is the best and most safe for you. Brother, I love you and wish for nothing ever wrong to fall upon your head yet I cannot simply dismiss this feeling of dread I behold whenever I dream of you sailing into a cold and bitter land of ice. I'm sorry for bringing up these dark apparitions of my mind but I could not let you go without at least warning you. Do not worry Robert, by most likely circumstances I am dearly wrong and am but fortune-telling like that of a lying gypsy.

On a lighter note, I just finished getting published in the London Times an article on the role of women in today's society. The publisher enjoyed the article throughly but still would have liked to make some changes. Other than what he called moral mistakes he thinks I could be a regular writer for the Times. Isn't that just splendid, Robert! I could be a writer. Of course, there are the obvious problems of being a woman and having such fiery opinions on today's more concealed topics. I am going to be a writer and I owe it all to you, Robert. If you had not encouraged me to bring forth my creative power I would have never gotten this far. I thank you brother. Just as you hope for the world to know your name someday, perhaps the world will also know mine. But I know I must beware the dangers of becoming ensnared in my own work I so dearly love; for I do have other happenings in my life that require my attention such as you and mother. I may also be travelling to Romania in a month or two; I wish to study alternative religious practices in an ancient country such as Romania.

Brother, once again before I leave I warn you against the spectres and demons that you may encounter in your journey to the north. One more word Robert. I read those books in Uncle Tom's library at times also and noticed an article that at the time only deemed to be interesting but now may be of worth to your safety and well being. In the mid-1600's when this whole search for the pole began the goverments around the world spent much time searching for an answer as to what the climate is like on the top of the world. They discovered most likely that the pole would be as cold and forbidden as the rest of the land surrounding it. To produce men who would even begin to want to discover such a desolate land the goverments created a myth. They sent out messengers informing sailors and adventurers alike that the North Pole was a beautiful land filled with life and treasures. Robert, can you not see that the Pole is not a land of tropical leisure but of frozen death? Once again I could be wrong but even if there is a hint of truth behind what I've said then isn't that enough to question what you are doing? I reiterate that I mean not to curse you with my worries but to only seek what is safest for you.

I must be going now my dear brother. May heaven always send an angel to protect and lead you through life. Good luck in your discovery. Your caring sister,

Margaret Saville





		Mary Shelley's Frankenstein opens with a series of letters from the Arctic explorer Robert Walton to his sister Margaret Saville in England. In the letters Walton reveals his promethean, "machismo" qualities to his sister as he heads, ambition unbridled, into an inhospitable world of ice and sea. Like Victor Frankenstein, whom he meets on the last leg of his earthly journey of horror, Robert Walton writes unhinged from a deeper reason or wisdom. What if, though, we could also enter the Frankenstein myth from the point of view of his sister, Margaret? Here is Sean Patterson's recreation of one such letter, from Margaret to Robert. To Mr. Walton, St. Petersburgh England, Jan. 13, 17-- Oh dear brother, I am truly happy for your optimistic forethoughts but yet there is still an itch in my heart that warns me of true danger to this celebrated voyage of your undertaking. Robert, ever since you were but an infant you dreamed of altering the state of humanity. At first you studied the voyages of men like Cartier and Columbus but you grew tired of this and made a liking towards the classics. You say you wished to achieve the mastery of the poem yet even though you intrigued my fancy it was not good enough to compare to that of Homer or Shakespeare, and thus inadequate. And now once again you wish to change the world as we percieve it by discovering the North Pole. Can you not see, Robert, that you only failed at leading the role of the poet because you set the criterion much too high? I can see this happening once again. You seem to believe it is fixed fate that you shall rise to the top of the world on an adventurous, yet dangerous journey that could very easily prove to be the demise of you or the elevation of your psyche. Oh, Robert, I mean not to depress your spirits or foretell a dark future. I only mean to see what is the best and most safe for you. Brother, I love you and wish for nothing ever wrong to fall upon your head yet I cannot simply dismiss this feeling of dread I behold whenever I dream of you sailing into a cold and bitter land of ice. I'm sorry for bringing up these dark apparitions of my mind but I could not let you go without at least warning you. Do not worry Robert, by most likely circumstances I am dearly wrong and am but fortune-telling like that of a lying gypsy. On a lighter note, I just finished getting published in the London Times an article on the role of women in today's society. The publisher enjoyed the article throughly but still would have liked to make some changes. Other than what he called moral mistakes he thinks I could be a regular writer for the Times. Isn't that just splendid, Robert! I could be a writer. Of course, there are the obvious problems of being a woman and having such fiery opinions on today's more concealed topics. I am going to be a writer and I owe it all to you, Robert. If you had not encouraged me to bring forth my creative power I would have never gotten this far. I thank you brother. Just as you hope for the world to know your name someday, perhaps the world will also know mine. But I know I must beware the dangers of becoming ensnared in my own work I so dearly love; for I do have other happenings in my life that require my attention such as you and mother. I may also be travelling to Romania in a month or two; I wish to study alternative religious practices in an ancient country such as Romania. Brother, once again before I leave I warn you against the spectres and demons that you may encounter in your journey to the north. One more word Robert. I read those books in Uncle Tom's library at times also and noticed an article that at the time only deemed to be interesting but now may be of worth to your safety and well being. In the mid-1600's when this whole search for the pole began the goverments around the world spent much time searching for an answer as to what the climate is like on the top of the world. They discovered most likely that the pole would be as cold and forbidden as the rest of the land surrounding it. To produce men who would even begin to want to discover such a desolate land the goverments created a myth. They sent out messengers informing sailors and adventurers alike that the North Pole was a beautiful land filled with life and treasures. Robert, can you not see that the Pole is not a land of tropical leisure but of frozen death? Once again I could be wrong but even if there is a hint of truth behind what I've said then isn't that enough to question what you are doing? I reiterate that I mean not to curse you with my worries but to only seek what is safest for you. I must be going now my dear brother. May heaven always send an angel to protect and lead you through life. Good luck in your discovery. Your caring sister, Margaret Saville You can respond to the author here (responses may be posted) or on our messageboard. © Copyright 1996 by Arthur Paul Patterson, Winnipeg, Canada FAQ Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 [8] Frankenstein