Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus

Mary Shelley

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It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.
Reklam
Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.
Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of heaven, could redeem my soul from woe; the very accents of love were ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to dinner untrodden brake, there to face upon the arrow which had pierced it, and to fit, was but a type of me.
the creature to his creator
I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.
The monster (!)
Was man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous and magnificent, yet so vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil principle and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and godlike. To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour that can befall a sensitive being.
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Reklam
The monster (!) speaks to his creator
Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone?
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Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred.
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I was dependent on none and related to none. 'The path of my departure was free', and there was none to lament my annihilation. My person was videos and my status gigantic. What did this mean? Who was I? What was I? What was my destination?
Sayfa 130 - The creature is talking about how he felt when he read Sorrows of Werther and contemplating about suicideKitabı okudu
Reklam
Unfeeling, heartless creator! You had endowed me with perceptions and passions and then cast me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind.
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