From the Desk of E. Frankenstein

(Where I come from, it is customary to make copies of one’s letters, for posterity and general memory. Here in my journal I copy this one, and only here.)

To Mr. Robert Walton, England—

I thank you again from the bottom of my heart for the letters and notes which you forwarded to me. They have brought me much comfort despite their grim contents, and with that comfort also has come a clarity on the past which until recently had continued to affect me deeply. After all, I was only a boy when these events transpired, and was often troubled by their confusing nature as well as their obvious tragedy.

My brother has already given you a detailed account of our distinguished family—that our father and mother enjoyed an honorable reputation in the eyes of the public and were wholly beloved because of their charitable works. My “cousin” Elizabeth was so sweet she would, to echo the Apostle Paul, have torn out her own eyes and given them to me if I had but asked. And my little brother William was so peaceful as to be nigh-indistinguishable from a lamb. 

My brother Victor, who told you his story in great detail, was as you can imagine a willful and driven soul, preoccupied with the occult. Yet I still remember him possessing a warmth before he went to study at the University of Ingolstadt in Germany after our mother died, which did not accompany him on his return. I suppose I shall never know how much of his ambitions were a misguided attempt to better the human race, and how much was hubris to believe he could bring to heel the forces of nature, but I choose to remember my brother with as much love as I do pity, and I can only imagine what great things he may have accomplished had he stayed far from his dark experiments.

One of my reasons for writing to you is this:

As I am now the last of my line, I feel responsible for those affected by my family’s curse. I am convinced it is only right to make amends and pay restitution to the best of my ability. Even poor Justine, who was like a second mother to us in the years Victor was abroad, was taken from us just as William was, and her family deserves to know that she was not guilty of William’s murder, but was an innocent victim herself. Similarly, Henry Clerval’s family has a right to know why he was brutally killed in Scotland while accompanying my brother. As I alone now possess the resources of my family, the burden of making things right falls solely upon me. I will not express resentment or regret, for I must be grateful that I survived the tragedy, and that you and your sister were able to find me and deliver to me the true story behind the deaths that took place, and why my brother Victor disappeared, leaving me by myself.

I have yet to decide if I should locate the French family my brother’s creation once regarded so fondly, so that I may perhaps give them some solace or resolution by explaining to them how the monster came to make contact with them. I do not know where they are now, or how they fare, or even if their elderly father is still alive, but I feel compelled to explain my family’s role in their displacement. I also wish to find the young girl, or the woman she has become, that the creature rescued from the stream, and the man who “rescued” her. Because you are the only living person on earth who has met the monster, and because you received my brother’s tale firsthand, I value your insight into these things. I wish to know if this is a foolish, even harmful, course to take. While for moral and legal reasons I know I must reveal the truth about the deaths of Justine and Henry, these other victims may have found some peace since their encounters with the creature, and my intrusion might only reawaken terrible and confusing memories. I pray God will give me discernment regarding these ponderings, and you as well. I understand it was the creature’s last wish to remain unknown by the rest of humanity, but as you felt honor-bound to bring this knowledge to me, so I feel bound to bring it to the others it has wronged.

I also wish to confide in you that while I have been freed of much emotional burden by your revelations, the fact that I survived has nonetheless given me many sleepless nights since I learned the true history of my family’s demise. I cannot help but wonder why I should be spared their fate. I wonder if, had my father’s health had been better, and the murder of Elizabeth not sent him to his death, he might also have been left behind as Victor and his monster drove each other to the ends of the earth? Did the monster suspect Father couldn’t physically endure another death? And if so, was I simply forgotten, or was I left alive for some other purpose? I confess this strange mercy continues to haunt me as I think over these things.

I have also been troubled by another persistent thought, which I feel I must confess, and for which I ask your forgiveness. Despite the revulsion I have for the creature after reading your account, I nevertheless feel that in addition to Victor, Father, William, and Justine, I have lost another family member, though I never knew him and he never knew me. For if Victor truly is the creator of this entity, then in some meaningful sense did not that entity, who did not contribute to its own creation, become like a son to him? And if he was a son to my brother, was he not (I am perhaps insane to consider this) also a Frankenstein in his own right, whatever the means of his birth? If so, I am more determined to make restitution, for not only did my brother’s actions lead to so many tragic events, but so did the actions of my own “nephew,” who himself only lived a few short years!

But again, I may be out of my mind to talk this way. If so, I beg you to pray for my mind’s swift recovery. Regardless, I look forward to visiting you before I begin my wider travels, so we may further discuss these things, and come to a proper resolution.

Your grateful correspondent and friend, 

Ernest Frankenstein