Frankenstein (Condensed for easy studying)

Letter # 4

 

Robert Walton is writing a letter to his sister, Mrs. Margaret Saville. It is August 5th. Robert Walton is speaking.

There has been a very odd accident. I have trouble writing such a strange thing down. On July 31st, we were surrounded my ice. We were in some danger, as there was also heavy fog. We waited for the weather to clear. At 2pm the fog cleared, and for as far as we could see, there was ice. Many of my crew groaned, causing my own nervousness.

However, far out on the ice, we saw a dogsled that was led by a huge man. The sled was traveling very quickly. We watched it until it disappeared, unable to follow it due to the ice. 

Nearly 2 hours later, the ice broke apart. However, we remained still in the water, hoping to avoid the large chunks of ice. We planned to wait until morning. I used this time to nap. When I awoke, I found all of my sailors talking to a stranger that was down on the ice. Another dogsled had arrived, with only 1 dog left alive. The stranger was not the earlier huge man, but instead a European. He seemed reluctant to enter the ship, and the sailors told me to encourage him on. He needed to know where we were headed. 

I assumed the man would be thrilled to have seen the ship at all, as it was his lifeline. I did not think he would be picky. Regardless, I told him that we were headed toward the North Pole. He seemed pleased, and boarded the ship. I have never seen someone so deteriorated. We tried to take him to below the ships, but he fainted. We brought him back up, and nursed him back to health slowly. 

2 days passed before he was able to speak. I took as much care of him as I could. He was so interesting, with his mannerisms and his sweetness. When he was mostly recovered, I had trouble keeping the crew from bothering him. When the lieutenant  asked why he had come so far in a dogsled, he answered that he was chasing someone who ran from him. We told him that we had seen another dog-sled traveler, to which he was very interested. He wondered if the breaking up of the ice had perhaps killed the other stranger, to which I told him I didn't know, as the stranger may of had time to find a safe place. He seemed very interested in find the other stranger. 

I began to love the stranger as a brother, though I thought at the beginning of my journey I would find no friend on the ocean, it appears that I have. I will continue my journal in hopes I will have more to record.  

August 13th

I have become closer to the guest every day. He causes me to feel very strong grief and simultaneously, admiration. He is very gentle and wise. He seems mostly recovered, and spends his time searching for the other dogsledder, and with speaking to others. He asked me many questions, all of which I answered honestly. He also had suggestions for my voyage, all of which I find useful. He is quiet, occasionally falling into depression except when he feels his sullenness affects someone else, in which case he tries to act pleased for their sake. I hoped to gain his trust, and I now believe now I have succeeded. 

I mentioned to the guest that I have been in want of a friend, and that I always thought it possible to find a true friend. He agreed with me, saying he had once had a friend. He said that I had hope to find a friend, and that the world was before me. He claimed that he had lost everything, and that he couldn't start again. The broken spirit that he is, he owns a two sided existence. On one side, he is in despair. On the other, a deep appreciation of nature. 

Do you laugh at me for my enthusiasm, sister? If you will, be agreeable with me. 

August 19th

Yesterday the stranger said to me that he had hoped that he would die with the memory of his evils, but that I had convinced him otherwise. He recognized that I, like him, searched for answers. He hoped that my dreams would not hurt me as his hurt him. He told me that he would tell me about his tale. 

You may think that I was happy to know I would hear about his journey, but I was concerned that I would reopen the wound and informed him of my worry. He said that he appreciated my sympathy, but it was useless, because he was waiting for one event, before he could repose easily. He claimed that if I listened to his story, that I would understand how unchangeable his fate was. He was start his story tomorrow, and I will write it down in his words, to make it eternal.