Chapter XVI

“CURSED, CURSED CREATOR! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants, and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.

“When night came, I quitted my retreat, and wandered in the wood; and now, no longer restrained by the fear of discovery, I gave vent to my anguish in fearful howlings. I was like a wild beast that had broken the toils; destroying the objects that obstructed me, and ranging through the wood with a stag-like swiftness. O! what a miserable night I passed! the cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees waved their branches above me: now and then the sweet voice of a bird burst forth amidst the universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment: I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me; and finding myself unsympathised with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin.

“But this was a luxury of sensation that could not endure; I became fatigued with excess of bodily exertion, and sank on the damp grass in the sick impotence of despair. There was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies? No: from that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and, more than all, against him who had formed me. and sent me forth to this insupportable misery.

“The sun rose; I heard the voices of men, and knew that it was impossible to return to my retreat during that day. Accordingly I hid myself in some thick underwood, determining to devote the ensuing hours to reflection on my situation.

“The pleasant sunshine, and the pure air of day, restored me to some degree of tranquillity; and when I considered what had passed at the cottage, I could not help believing that I had been too hasty in my conclusions. I had certainly acted imprudently. It was apparent that my conversation had interested the father in my behalf, and I was a fool in having exposed my person to the horror of his children. I ought to have familiarised the old De Lacey to me, and by degrees to have discovered myself to the rest of his family, when they should have been prepared for my approach. But I did not believe my errors to be irretrievable; and, after much consideration, I resolved to return to the cottage, seek the old man, and by my representations win him to my party.

“These thoughts calmed me, and in the afternoon I sank into a profound sleep; but the fever of my blood did not allow me to be visited by peaceful dreams. The horrible scene of the preceding day was for ever acting before my eyes; the females were flying, and the enraged Felix tearing me from his father's feet. I awoke exhausted; and, finding that it was already night, I crept forth from my hiding-place, and went in search of food.

“When my hunger was appeased, I directed my steps towards the well-known path that conducted to the cottage. All there was at peace. I crept into my hovel, and remained in silent expectation of the accustomed hour when the family arose. That hour passed, the sun mounted high in the heavens, but the cottagers did not appear. I trembled violently, apprehending some dreadful misfortune. The inside of the cottage was dark, and I heard no motion; I cannot describe the agony of this suspense.

“Presently two countrymen passed by; but pausing near the cottage, they entered into conversation, using violent gesticulations; but I did not understand what they said, as they spoke the language of the country, which differed from that of my protectors. Soon after, however, Felix approached with another man: I was surprised, as I knew that he had not quitted the cottage that morning, and waited anxiously to discover, from his discourse, the meaning of these unusual appearances.

“ ‘Do you consider,’ said his companion to him, ‘that you will be obliged to pay three months’ rent, and to lose the produce of your garden? I do not wish to take any unfair advantage, and I beg therefore that you will take some days to consider of your determination.’

“ ‘It is utterly useless,’ replied Felix; ‘we can never again inhabit your cottage. The life of my father is in the greatest danger, owing to the dreadful circumstance that I have related. My wife and my sister will never recover from their horror. I entreat you not to reason with me any more. Take possession of your tenement, and let me fly from this place.’

“Felix trembled violently as he said this. He and his companion entered the cottage, in which they remained for a few minutes, and then departed. I never saw any of the family of De Lacey more.

“I continued for the remainder of the day in my hovel in a state of utter and stupid despair. My protectors had departed, and had broken the only link that held me to the world. For the first time the feelings of revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I did not strive to control them; but, allowing myself to be borne away by the stream, I bent my mind towards injury and death. When I thought of my friends, of the mild voice of De Lacey, the gentle eyes of Agatha, and the exquisite beauty of the Arabian, these thoughts vanished, and a gush of tears somewhat soothed me. But again, when I reflected that they had spurned and deserted me, anger returned, a rage of anger; and, unable to injure anything human, I turned my fury towards inanimate objects. As night advanced, I placed a variety of combustibles around the cottage; and after having destroyed every vestige of cultivation in the garden, I waited with forced impatience until the moon had sunk to commence my operations.

“As the night advanced, a fierce wind arose from the woods, and quickly dispersed the clouds that had loitered in the heavens: the blast tore along like a mighty avalanche, and produced a kind of insanity in my spirits that burst all bounds of reason and reflection. I lighted the dry branch of a tree, and danced with fury around the devoted cottage, my eyes still fixed on the western horizon, the edge of which the moon nearly touched. A part of its orb was at length hid, and I waved my brand; it sank, and, with a loud scream, I fired the straw, and heath, and bushes, which I had collected. The wind fanned the fire, and the cottage was quickly enveloped by the flames, which clung to it, and licked it with their forked and destroying tongues.

“As soon as I was convinced that no assistance could save any part of the habitation, I quitted the scene and sought for refuge in the woods.

“And now, with the world before me, whither should I bend my steps? I resolved to fly far from the scene of my misfortunes; but to me, hated and despised, every country must be equally horrible. At length the thought of you crossed my mind. I learned from your papers that you were my father, my creator; and to whom could I apply with more fitness than to him who had given me life? Among the lessons that Felix had bestowed upon Safie, geography had not been omitted. I had learned from these the relative situations of the different countries of the earth. You had mentioned Geneva as the name of your native town; and towards this place I resolved to proceed.

“But how was I to direct myself? I knew that I must travel in a south-westerly direction to reach my destination; but the sun was my only guide. I did not know the names of the towns that I was to pass through, nor could I ask information from a single human being; but I did not despair. From you only could I hope for succour, although towards you I felt no sentiment but that of hatred. 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. But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from any other being that wore the human form.

“My travels were long, and the sufferings I endured intense. It was late in autumn when I quitted the district where I had so long resided. I travelled only at night, fearful of encountering the visage of a human being. Nature decayed around me, and the sun became heatless; rain and snow poured around me; mighty rivers were frozen; the surface of the earth was hard, and chill, and bare, and I found no shelter. Oh, earth! how often did I imprecate curses on the cause of my being! The mildness of my nature had fled, and all within me was turned to gall and bitterness. The nearer I approached to your habitation, the more deeply did I feel the spirit of revenge enkindled in my heart. Snow fell, and the waters were hardened; but I rested not. A few incidents now and then directed me, and I possessed a map of the country; but I often wandered wide from my path. The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite: no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food; but a circumstance that happened when I arrived on the confines of Switzerland, when the sun had recovered its warmth, and the earth again began to look green, confirmed in an especial manner the bitterness and horror of my feelings.

“I generally rested during the day, and travelled only when I was secured by night from the view of man. One morning, however, finding that my path lay through a deep wood, I ventured to continue my journey after the sun had risen; the day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them; and, forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy. Soft tears again bedewed my cheeks, and I even raised my humid eyes with thankfulness towards the blessed sun which bestowed such joy upon me.

“I continued to wind among the paths of the wood, until I came to its boundary, which was skirted by a deep and rapid river, into which many of the trees bent their branches, now budding with the fresh spring. Here I paused, not exactly knowing what path to pursue, when I heard the sound of voices that induced me to conceal myself under the shade of a cypress. I was scarcely hid, when a young girl came running towards the spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from some one in sport. She continued her course along the precipitous sides of the river, when suddenly her foot slipt, and she fell into the rapid stream. I rushed from my hiding-place; and, with extreme labour from the force of the current, saved her, and dragged her to shore. She was senseless; and I endeavoured by every means in my power to restore animation, when I was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a rustic, who was probably the person from whom she had playfully fled. On seeing me, he darted towards me, and tearing the girl from my arms, hastened towards the deeper parts of the wood. I followed speedily, I hardly knew why; but when the man saw me draw near, he aimed a gun, which he carried, at my body, and fired. I sunk to the ground, and my injurer, with increased swiftness, escaped into the wood.

“This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being from destruction, and, as a recompense, I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound, which shattered the flesh and bone. The feelings of kindness and gentleness which I had entertained but a few moments before gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. But the agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted.

“For some weeks I led a miserable life in the woods, endeavouring to cure the wound which I had received. The ball had entered my shoulder, and I knew not whether it had remained there or passed through; at any rate I had no means of extracting it. My sufferings were augmented also by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their infliction. My daily vows rose for revenge— a deep and deadly revenge, such as would alone compensate for the outrages and anguish I had endured.

“After some weeks my wound healed, and I continued my journey. The labours I endured were no longer to be alleviated by the bright sun or gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mockery, which insulted my desolate state, and made me feel more painfully that I was not made for the enjoyment of pleasure.

“But my toils now drew near a close; and in two months from this time I reached the environs of Geneva.

“It was evening when I arrived, and I retired to a hiding-place among the fields that surround it, to meditate in what manner I should apply to you. I was oppressed by fatigue and hunger and far too unhappy to enjoy the gentle breezes of evening, or the prospect of the sun setting behind the stupendous mountains of Jura.

“At this time a slight sleep relieved me from the pain of reflection, which was disturbed by the approach of a beautiful child, who came running into the recess I had chosen, with all the sportiveness of infancy. Suddenly, as I gazed on him, an idea seized me, that this little creature was unprejudiced, and had lived too short a time to have imbibed a horror of deformity. If, therefore, I could seize him, and educate him as my companion and friend, I should not be so desolate in this peopled earth.

“Urged by this impulse, I seized on the boy as he passed and drew him towards me. As soon as he beheld my form, he placed his hands before his eyes and uttered a shrill scream: I drew his hand forcibly from his face, and said, ‘Child, what is the meaning of this? I do not intend to hurt you; listen to me.’ “He struggled violently. ‘Let me go,’ he cried; ‘monster! ugly wretch! you wish to eat me, and tear me to pieces—You are an ogre—Let me go, or I will tell my papa.’

“ ‘Boy, you will never see your father again; you must come with me.’

“ ‘Hideous monster! let me go. My papa is a Syndic—he is M. Frankenstein— he will punish you. You dare not keep me.’

“ ‘Frankenstein! you belong then to my enemy—to him towards whom I have sworn eternal revenge; you shall be my first victim.’

“The child still struggled, and loaded me with epithets which carried despair to my heart; I grasped his throat to silence him, and in a moment he lay dead at my feet.

“I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish triumph: clapping my hands, I exclaimed, ‘I too can create desolation; my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him, and a thousand other miseries shall torment and destroy him.’

“As I fixed my eyes on the child, I saw something glittering on his breast. I took it; it was a portrait of a most lovely woman. In spite of my malignity, it softened and attracted me. For a few moments I gazed with delight on her dark eyes, fringed by deep lashes, and her lovely lips; but presently my rage returned: I remembered that I was for ever deprived of the delights that such beautiful creatures could bestow; and that she whose resemblance I contemplated would, in regarding me, have changed that air of divine benignity to one expressive of disgust and affright.

“Can you wonder that such thoughts transported me with rage? I only wonder that at that moment, instead of venting my sensations in exclamations and agony, I did not rush among mankind and perish in the attempt to destroy them.

“While I was overcome by these feelings, I left the spot where I had committed the murder, and seeking a more secluded hiding-place, I entered a barn which had appeared to me to be empty. A woman was sleeping on some straw; she was young: not indeed so beautiful as her whose portrait I held; but of an agreeable aspect, and blooming in the loveliness of youth and health. Here, I thought, is one of those whose joy-imparting smiles are bestowed on all but me. And then I bent over her and whispered, ‘Awake, fairest, thy lover is near—he who would give his life but to obtain one look of affection from thine eyes: my beloved, awake!’

“The sleeper stirred; a thrill of terror ran through me. Should she indeed awake, and see me, and curse me, and denounce the murderer? Thus would she assuredly act, if her darkened eyes opened and she beheld me. The thought was madness; it stirred the fiend within me—not I, but she shall suffer: the murder I have committed because I am for ever robbed of all that she could give me, she shall atone. The crime had its source in her: be hers the punishment! Thanks to the lessons of Felix and the sanguinary laws of man, I had learned now to work mischief. I bent over her, and placed the portrait securely in one of the folds of her dress. She moved again, and I fled.

“For some days I haunted the spot where these scenes had taken place; sometimes wishing to see you, sometimes resolved to quit the world and its miseries forever. At length I wandered towards these mountains, and have ranged through their immense recesses, consumed by a burning passion which you alone can gratify. We may not part until you have promised to comply with my requisition. I am alone, and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species, and have the same defects. This being you must create.”

Footnotes

  1. The creature punishes Justine for her reaction to his hideous form. More generally, he punishes her because he is enraged that no human will ever accept his physical form. He decides to punish her for not only his pain but also his sins; she shall pay penance for the murder he has committed. This strange logic demonstrates the creature’s profound reasoning skills, even if his premises and values are flawed.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  2. The creature does not seem to recognize how threatening his demand is. He thinks only of his own isolation and loneliness and cannot empathize with the frightened child. This selfish and misunderstood drive makes the creature similar to Frankenstein.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  3. While the creature was previously focused on obtaining love and acceptance from humanity, now all he cares for is revenge. His love has turned to hatred because of his isolation and rejection.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  4. Here, the shot that shatters the creature’s flesh and bones also shatters his kindness and gentleness. This is the moment at which the creature fully relinquishes his benevolence.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  5. Notice how the world of humanity causes the creature fear and dread while the world of nature allows him to feel gentle pleasure. Humanity’s harshness is once again reinforced as nature is portrayed as a restorative force.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  6. The creature’s relationship with his maker is paradoxically full of both hatred and dependency. Alone in the world, the creature’s only hope of connection is with his creator. However, the creature despises his own existence and the person who created that existence. This relationship constitutes the main tension of the novel.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  7. Remember that when he fled, the creature clothed himself in one of Victor’s coats. In the coat, Victor had stashed notebooks explaining the scientific process he used to create his monster. These are the “papers” to which the creature refers. Since these papers are the creature's creation story, these notebooks can be seen as a type of Bible.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  8. This description of the fire may be symbolic for the devil’s tongue. In the biblical story of Genesis, Satan disguises himself as a snake with a forked tongue and convinces Eve to eat an apple from the forbidden tree of knowledge by talking to her. The forked tongues of the fire symbolize the creature’s transition from innocence to malevolence. This is the moment in which the monster falls from his status as a benevolent creature.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  9. Notice that the creature feels anger about being deserted and rejected. This reinforces the theme of isolation as a cause of the creature’s monstrous nature.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  10. In this metaphor, the creature compares his feelings to a stream. He lets himself be “borne away” by them, suggesting the idea that his feelings are as uncontrollable as nature.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  11. The creature’s “despair” and anger are caused by isolation. He learned how to love from the De Lacey family and, now that they are gone, feels alone in the world once again. Notice that he calls them his “protectors” even though they are the ones who just expelled him from their property. The creature’s profound connection to these people that was not reciprocated.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  12. This is an allusion to Milton’s Paradise Lost. In the first book, Satan realizes that heaven and hell are within him with his famous lines: “The mind is its own place, and in itself / Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.” This line suggests that heaven is not objectively perfect and hell is not objectively horrible; the state of the place depends on one’s perception. The creature cannot find peace or beauty in nature because his rage colors his perspective. Like Satan, the creature’s anger and envy turn this paradise into hell.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  13. Notice that this is the moment in which the creature has his first thoughts of violence and murder. Remember that it was provoked by the family’s reaction to his physical form and his feelings of isolation and rejection. Isolation and rejection cause his cruel vengeance.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  14. The adverb “wantonly” means without regard for rightness or consequences, done in a manner that expresses delight in wrongdoing or mischief. While this chapter will show the creature’s transform from innocence to malevolence, this “wanton” creation of life suggests that Frankenstein is the real villain of this story: he knowingly and recklessly brought life to this creature.

    — Caitlin, Owl Eyes Staff
  15. In this chapter, readers should release (at least some) of their sympathy or empathy for the monster. Why? He has chosen to lower himself to the level of that “humanity” that he has come upon: hatred. When the monster was misunderstood and despised, but still desired to do good, readers could take pity. However, when murder is involved (as well as other acts lacking in compassion), then the only sympathy left is to say that the creature is simply the product of his situation and, therefore, cannot be blamed for his behavior. He is no longer benevolent. The creature is now malevolent. Someone who is truly good (or even any creature who is truly good) will give with no thought of return. The creature has now turned from this compassionate policy. And yet, readers notice something peculiar even when trying desperately to nix the creature’s humanity. In regards to interpretation, note the following line from this very important chapter: “This was then the reward of my benevolence!” The creature here speaks of the reaction of the little girl’s caregiver to the creature’s saving her from drowning. Note that it is the concept of “reward” that the creature mentions (and quite possibly seeks). Is this an inhuman or a human trait? Is this an unnatural or a natural desire: the desire for reward? Perhaps it is human to desire a reward. Perhaps, then, it is divine not to expect one. Perhaps, in desiring a reward and not finding one and turning to evil, the creature proves himself to be precisely human (just not divine). Another dichotomy that deserves to be mentioned here is the difference (not only between human and divine) between villain and savior. Very often, the creature is, in reality, a savior of some family, of someone, of some thing. However, the creature is also, in reality, treated as exactly the opposite: a villain. What would be a typical “human” reaction to this dichotomy? Again, this is interesting to consider. One would be amiss if one didn’t mention Shelley’s grand use of suspense here. The creature captures an innocent boy with whom it wants to plead its case. The little boy is William. He is destined for death. The series of events creates great suspense in most every interested reader. This chapter also serves as a turning point because both Victor and the creature become united in their story by the end. Readers will remember that this is, in essence, a frame story. Victor began the story and, when he met the creature, the creature begins to tell its story. Here at the end of this chapter, the creature's explanation, Victor's character's explanation, and the author's explanation become one and the same story.  Here, hidden between the lines of the text is the moment when the creature spies Victor and pursues him across the icy glacier and demands to tell its story. The demand to tell its story is followed by another demand: for Victor to create the creature a “companion” that should be “of the same species.” It is in this way (and the only way) that the creature will no longer be alone.

    — Noelle Thompson
  16. Again, here we have an effort to exact control, this time over its own creator.  A "reward," so to speak, for being utterly alone:  a mate.

    — Noelle Thompson
  17. The creature flees from its hut in anger, all the while cursing his creator (Victor). In his rage, the creature decides to wreak havoc in nature and begins to destroy as much as it can of the natural world of the forest (until it exhausts itself). After being renewed by the same nature it tried to destroy, the creature decides that it was too “hasty” in judging the De Lacey family. The creature returns to its hut only to discover that the De Lacey family (and all of its members) have vacated the premises. The creature learns this by listening to a conversation between Felix and the landlord of the cottage. The De Lacey family has decided not to return because of “danger” and “horror.” The creature sets fire to the cottage and goes off on his own. It isn’t long before the creature decides to seek its own “father” (its own “creator”). In his wanderings toward Geneva (that he learned geography from Safie and acquired a map somehow), the creature sees a little girl slip and fall into a raging, icy river. The creature immediately jumps up to save the girl, only to be shot and wounded by her caregiver. The creature continues to wander to where it hopes its creator’s country might be. Soon it comes upon a little boy and it decides to grab this innocent child and convince him that the creature is good and friendly. The little boy struggles so very much and calls the creature so many names and throws the creature so many threats that, only in its attempt to silence the boy, the creature kills the boy. The little boy was William Frankenstein: Victor’s brother. Again, here, readers learns the truth:  just how Justine comes in contact with the locket.  During the night she always admitted to passing in the barn waiting for the gates to open, the creatures slips in and puts the locket in her clothing. It is at this point that the creature comes upon Victor in the snow. It is at this point that the creature’s story and Victor’s story become one and the same. And it is at this point that the creature makes his request/demand for a wife, or in its own words “a companion” that “must be of the same species.”

    — Noelle Thompson
  18. This is an important turning point of the  novel that few readers notice.  Here at the end of this chapter, the creature's story, Victor's character's story, and the author's story become one and the same.  It is here that the creature meets Victor on the glacier, and it is during this meeting that the creature demands to tell its story.  This is the result:  the demand for a wife.

    — Noelle Thompson
  19. Again, here, readers learn the truth:  just how Justine comes in contact with the locket.  During the night she always admitted to passing in the barn waiting for the gates to open, the creatures slips in and puts the locket in her clothing.

    — Noelle Thompson
  20. The reader learns the truth at this very moment.  The creature is in Geneva.  The creature has found his creator's home.  The little boy is William:  Victor's little brother.  The reader knows the little boy is destined for death.  This part is a beautiful example of suspense on the part of Shelley, the author.

    — Noelle Thompson
  21. Note that, again, the creature desires benevolence at first.  It wants only to plead his cause to the little boy (at this point the "unknown" little boy) in order to show it is really a good "person."  Again, the creature desires compassion as a "reward."

    — Noelle Thompson
  22. Note that it is the concept of “reward” that the creature mentions and, in fact, seeks. Is this trait human or inhuman?  Is this desire natural or unnatural?  (That is, the desire for a reward.)  Perhaps it is quite natural for all of humanity to desire a reward.  If this is so, then maybe it is actually "divine" not to expect one.  Can we expect that kind of compassionate divinity from an unnatural creature? Then, just maybe, because the creature desires a reward for its benevolence, doesn't find one, is in fact punished, and turns to evil. Perhaps this makes it more human than ever before.

    — Noelle Thompson
  23. Note how, in the case of an emergency, one's true presence always seems to come out.  As inhuman as it is, the creature immediately jumps to the aid of the little girl. It jumps not to murder, but out of compassion.  Unfortunately, the creature finds that humanity does not have such magnanimous intentions.  The creature is shot and wounded, never to be the same again.

    — Noelle Thompson
  24. Through its despair, the creature longs (again) for its own "father" (or its own "creator").

    — Noelle Thompson
  25. Note the huge dichotomy of the creature's emotions:  from revenge to hatred to loss of control to malevolence.  This focus on emotion (and the description of such) is a very Romantic quality, even though the creature itself is highly unnatural.

    — Noelle Thompson
  26. Here, readers learn the truth:  the De Lacey family not only vacated the premises but has promised never to return due to "danger" and "horror."

    — Noelle Thompson
  27. Why is the cottage at peace?  The family has vacated the premises, too angry with the creature to remain. 

    — Noelle Thompson
  28. Here, another interesting Romantic concept:  nature restores the individual (albeit an unnatural one).  In this case it is the natural development of sunshine and fresh air that somewhat renews its soul and the creature wishes to note the actual result (instead of the result of overreaction).

    — Noelle Thompson
  29. It is important to note the all-important simile that precedes this annotation:  "I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me."  Here the creature has made a conscious decision (and final recognition) that he is like satan.  He wants to "spread havoc and destruction" and then "enjoyed the ruin."  Readers should feel a bit less sympathy at this point.  Or perhaps readers just feels even more sad for the creature.

    — Noelle Thompson
  30. This is the first real sign that the monster is losing his benevolence.  Suddenly, instead of working with nature, he works against nature:  a force of destruction to all things natural.

    — Noelle Thompson
  31. Note the desperation of the creature when his host family despises him and, in fact, flees from him.  Its attempts at friendship and benevolence were all for naught. 

    — Noelle Thompson