Letter I

Frankenstein or, The Modern Prometheus


To Mrs. Saville, England

ST. PETERSBURGH, Dec. 11th, 17—.

YOU WILL REJOICE to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday; and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare, and increasing confidence in the success of my undertaking.

I am already far north of London; and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves, and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my day dreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon, and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There—for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators—there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle; and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent for ever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death, and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But, supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine.

These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven; for nothing contributes so much to tranquillise the mind as a steady purpose— a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. This expedition has been the favourite dream of my early years. I have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our good Uncle Thomas's library. My education was neglected, yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father's dying injunction had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life.

These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also became a poet, and for one year lived in a Paradise of my own creation; I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated. You are well acquainted with my failure, and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just at that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent.

Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I can, even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself to this great enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship. I accompanied the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea; I voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep; I often worked harder than the common sailors during the day and devoted my nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself as an under-mate in a Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration. I must own I felt a little proud when my captain offered me the second dignity in the vessel, and entreated me to remain with the greatest earnestness; so valuable did he consider my services.

And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury; but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, when theirs are failing.

This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia. They fly quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stage-coach. The cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs—a dress which I have already adopted; for there is a great difference between walking the deck and remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins. I have no ambition to lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburgh and Archangel.

I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three weeks; and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many sailors as I think necessary among those who are accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet. If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.

Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on you, and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude for all your love and kindness.—Your affectionate brother,



  1. Walton began his expedition in London, traveled to St. Petersburg, Russia, and now has passed the northern Russian port city of Archangel (Архангельск). It was the chief sea port of medieval Russia until the completion of St. Petersburg.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  2. Walton’s ardent curiosity mirrors Frankenstein’s own thirst for knowledge. Both characters desire to uncover mysteries never before accessible to humanity, and in doing so place themselves at great risk. Shelley’s narrative serves to show how a thirst for knowledge for knowledge’s sake can lead to dangerous discoveries and consequences.

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  3. The cold breeze in St. Petersburg excites Walton, as it hints that he is getting closer to the arctic. Similarly, this breeze is a foreshadowing or “foretaste” for the reader of the conclusion of the novel, which takes place among the barren arctic landscape.

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  4. It is a convenient coincidence that Mrs. Margaret Saville shares her initials with Mary Shelley.

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  5. This letter is written by Robert Walton to his sister, Mrs. Saville. Robert Walton is an upper-class man from London who thirsts for exploration and adventure. He is writing from St. Petersburg at the start of his voyage to the Arctic.

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  6. Shelley combines the epistolary form with another technique called the frame story. This involves the telling of stories within a story. In Frankenstein, Robert Walton is the most external narrator. Robert Walton meets Victor Frankenstein, who begins to tell him the story of his life and his invention of the creature. This establishes a story within a story. Deeper still, within Frankenstein’s story, the creature also narrates his own version of events. As such, the narrative actually includes three levels of storytelling or ‘frames.’

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  7. Shelley begins the narrative through a brief collection of letters written by Robert Walton. Using letters in fiction is a form known as epistolary writing.

    — Emily, Owl Eyes Staff
  8. Walton refers to a how explorers reach the East more quickly by traveling northward through the Arctic Ocean rather than around South America or Africa. This route is also known as the Northwest Passage.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff
  9. This refers to the trouble with using magnetic navigational instruments in polar regions. Due to the nature of magnets, magnetic instruments are prone to distortion in such places. Calling it “the secret” places the readers back in time, when magnesium was not scientifically understood yet. It was not until Michael Faraday's (1791–1867) experiments with magnetism and electricity in 1821 that these concepts became clear.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff
  10. This refers to the trouble with navigation in polar regions as magnetic instruments of travelers are distorted in such areas. Calling it “the secret” places the readers back in time, when magnesium was not scientifically understood yet. It was not until Michael Faraday's (1791-1867) experiments with magnetism and electricity in 1821 that these concepts became clear.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff
  11. Walton’s statement reveals his stubbornness and strong desire to pursue knowledge. As the story advances, Shelley introduces characters that have qualities similar to Walton’s; this creates doppelganger relationships between Walton and those other characters, and at the same time, raises the question of whether the pursuit of knowledge is good or bad.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff
  12. Shelley begins the novel with a series of letters; this technique is called epistolary writing. Eventually, Shelley combines this technique with another called a frame tale, or story within a story, in order to invite readers into the stories of the main characters from a variety of perspectives. This leads to questions of how reliable the characters are as narrators.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff
  13. In Greek mythology, Prometheus is a Titan who stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans. Fire was forbidden to humans, and because of this crime, Zeus chained Prometheus to a mountaintop for eternal torture. Shelley subtitles her novel The Modern Prometheus because of Victor's thirst for forbidden knowledge, his eventual ability to create life, and his miserable consequences; in a sense, this makes him Shelley’s Prometheus.

    — Jane, Owl Eyes Staff