FRANKENSTEIN - Chapter Four
Victor is now at university.
From this moment, natural philosophy, especially chemistry, became my main focus. I eagerly read works by modern scientists, full of clever ideas and discoveries. I attended lectures and got to know the university's scholars. Even Professor Krempe, though unpleasant in manner and appearance, proved to have valuable knowledge. In contrast, Professor Waldman became a true friend. His kindness and clear teaching made even the hardest subjects easy to understand.
At first, my efforts were inconsistent, but as I progressed, my dedication grew. I often worked through the night, the stars giving way to dawn while I was still in the lab. My hard work paid off, and my quick progress surprised both students and professors. Krempe joked about my earlier fascination with outdated theories, while Waldman celebrated my achievements. Two years passed like this, during which I stayed at the university, completely focused on making discoveries.
Science has a special kind of appeal. Unlike other fields, where you can only go as far as others before you, science is full of endless opportunities for discovery. I became so skilled that I invented improvements to some chemical instruments, earning great respect at the university. By then, I had learned everything my professors could teach. I planned to return home, but a new curiosity delayed my departure.
I became fascinated by the structure of the human body and the mystery of life itself. Where does life come from? This question, though bold, drove me to study physiology. To understand life, I first needed to study death. I explored anatomy and the natural process of decay, spending hours in charnel houses and graveyards, examining what happens to the body after death. These studies, though grim, revealed the complex changes from life to death and back again. Suddenly, a groundbreaking idea struck me—a discovery so simple and brilliant that I wondered why no one else had made it.
After countless hours of exhausting work, I discovered the secret of life itself. More than that, I found a way to bring lifeless matter to life. At first, I was overwhelmed with joy at my success. Yet this power carried great responsibility. I hesitated before deciding how to use it. Creating a human-like being was an enormous challenge, but my confidence grew. I resolved to build a giant figure, about eight feet tall, to simplify the intricate work. After months of collecting materials, I began.
No words can describe the emotions that drove me. I felt as though I could break through the barriers of life and death, creating a new species that would owe its existence to me. This thought consumed me, driving me to work tirelessly. My health deteriorated, and I grew pale and thin from confinement and relentless effort. Yet I pressed on, even as my surroundings filled me with horror. I gathered materials from graveyards and slaughterhouses, determined to complete my creation.
Seasons passed unnoticed as I laboured. My friends and family, far away, worried about my silence, but I couldn't tear myself from my work. My father had once warned me not to neglect my duties, and I knew my absence caused him distress. I told myself he would forgive me once I succeeded. Yet, looking back, I see he was right. A person should never let ambition destroy their peace of mind or their love for simple pleasures.
At last, my work neared completion. But the effort had taken a toll. I was weak, anxious, and isolated. The excitement that had once driven me now felt like a heavy burden. I avoided people, fearing judgment. Still, I held on, believing that once my creation was finished, I could rest and recover.
With these thoughts in mind, I continued, determined to see my vision realised.
Victor is now at university.
From this moment, natural philosophy, especially chemistry, became my main focus. I eagerly read works by modern scientists, full of clever ideas and discoveries. I attended lectures and got to know the university's scholars. Even Professor Krempe, though unpleasant in manner and appearance, proved to have valuable knowledge. In contrast, Professor Waldman became a true friend. His kindness and clear teaching made even the hardest subjects easy to understand.
At first, my efforts were inconsistent, but as I progressed, my dedication grew. I often worked through the night, the stars giving way to dawn while I was still in the lab. My hard work paid off, and my quick progress surprised both students and professors. Krempe joked about my earlier fascination with outdated theories, while Waldman celebrated my achievements. Two years passed like this, during which I stayed at the university, completely focused on making discoveries.
Science has a special kind of appeal. Unlike other fields, where you can only go as far as others before you, science is full of endless opportunities for discovery. I became so skilled that I invented improvements to some chemical instruments, earning great respect at the university. By then, I had learned everything my professors could teach. I planned to return home, but a new curiosity delayed my departure.
I became fascinated by the structure of the human body and the mystery of life itself. Where does life come from? This question, though bold, drove me to study physiology. To understand life, I first needed to study death. I explored anatomy and the natural process of decay, spending hours in charnel houses and graveyards, examining what happens to the body after death. These studies, though grim, revealed the complex changes from life to death and back again. Suddenly, a groundbreaking idea struck me—a discovery so simple and brilliant that I wondered why no one else had made it.
After countless hours of exhausting work, I discovered the secret of life itself. More than that, I found a way to bring lifeless matter to life. At first, I was overwhelmed with joy at my success. Yet this power carried great responsibility. I hesitated before deciding how to use it. Creating a human-like being was an enormous challenge, but my confidence grew. I resolved to build a giant figure, about eight feet tall, to simplify the intricate work. After months of collecting materials, I began.
No words can describe the emotions that drove me. I felt as though I could break through the barriers of life and death, creating a new species that would owe its existence to me. This thought consumed me, driving me to work tirelessly. My health deteriorated, and I grew pale and thin from confinement and relentless effort. Yet I pressed on, even as my surroundings filled me with horror. I gathered materials from graveyards and slaughterhouses, determined to complete my creation.
Seasons passed unnoticed as I laboured. My friends and family, far away, worried about my silence, but I couldn't tear myself from my work. My father had once warned me not to neglect my duties, and I knew my absence caused him distress. I told myself he would forgive me once I succeeded. Yet, looking back, I see he was right. A person should never let ambition destroy their peace of mind or their love for simple pleasures.
At last, my work neared completion. But the effort had taken a toll. I was weak, anxious, and isolated. The excitement that had once driven me now felt like a heavy burden. I avoided people, fearing judgment. Still, I held on, believing that once my creation was finished, I could rest and recover.
With these thoughts in mind, I continued, determined to see my vision realised.