Read Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus Page 2
PREFACE.
The event on which this fiction is founded, has been supposed, by Dr.Darwin, and some of the physiological writers of Germany, as not ofimpossible occurrence. I shall not be supposed as according the remotestdegree of serious faith to such an imagination; yet, in assuming it asthe basis of a work of fancy, I have not considered myself as merelyweaving a series of supernatural terrors. The event on which theinterest of the story depends is exempt from the disadvantages of a meretale of spectres or enchantment. It was recommended by the novelty ofthe situations which it developes; and, however impossible as a physicalfact, affords a point of view to the imagination for the delineating ofhuman passions more comprehensive and commanding than any which theordinary relations of existing events can yield.
I have thus endeavoured to preserve the truth of the elementaryprinciples of human nature, while I have not scrupled to innovate upontheir combinations. The Iliad, the tragic poetry of Greece,--Shakspeare,in the Tempest, and Midsummer Night's Dream,--and most especiallyMilton, in Paradise Lost, conform to this rule; and the most humblenovelist, who seeks to confer or receive amusement from his labours,may, without presumption, apply to prose fiction a licence, or rather arule, from the adoption of which so many exquisite combinations of humanfeeling have resulted in the highest specimens of poetry.
The circumstance on which my story rests was suggested in casualconversation. It was commenced partly as a source of amusement, andpartly as an expedient for exercising any untried resources of mind.Other motives were mingled with these, as the work proceeded. I am byno means indifferent to the manner in which whatever moral tendenciesexist in the sentiments or characters it contains shall affect thereader; yet my chief concern in this respect has been limited to theavoiding the enervating effects of the novels of the present day, and tothe exhibition of the amiableness of domestic affection, and theexcellence of universal virtue. The opinions which naturally spring fromthe character and situation of the hero are by no means to be conceivedas existing always in my own conviction; nor is any inference justly tobe drawn from the following pages as prejudicing any philosophicaldoctrine of whatever kind.
It is a subject also of additional interest to the author, that thisstory was begun in the majestic region where the scene is principallylaid, and in society which cannot cease to be regretted. I passed thesummer of 1816 in the environs of Geneva. The season was cold and rainy,and in the evenings we crowded around a blazing wood fire, andoccasionally amused ourselves with some German stories of ghosts, whichhappened to fall into our hands. These tales excited in us a playfuldesire of imitation. Two other friends (a tale from the pen of one ofwhom would be far more acceptable to the public than any thing I canever hope to produce) and myself agreed to write each a story, foundedon some supernatural occurrence.
The weather, however, suddenly became serene; and my two friends left meon a journey among the Alps, and lost, in the magnificent scenes whichthey present, all memory of their ghostly visions. The following tale isthe only one which has been completed.