United States or Ghana ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
We have, firstly, the spectacle of the masses disporting themselves slyly in the undertow of cynicism. "Modesty," bellows Sir Frankenstein from pulpit and press, "is a cardinal virtue." "Right O," echoes the feminine contingent and promptly bobs its hair, shortens its skirts, and rolls down its socks. "Abstinence, sobriety, are an economic and spiritual necessity," bellows Sir Frankenstein.
No wonder the playwright has tried to adapt Frankenstein; he has merely succeeded in presenting a grotesque unterrible figure where Mrs Shelley gave a thrill of horror. We have had several plays on the boards which overstep bounds.
As he went on, I felt as if my soul were grappling with a palpable enemy. So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of Frankenstein. More, far more, will I achieve: I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.
Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, in which one must fall." "How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone?
She nursed Madame Frankenstein, my aunt, in her last illness, with the greatest affection and care and afterwards attended her own mother during a tedious illness, in a manner that excited the admiration of all who knew her, after which she again lived in my uncle's house, where she was beloved by all the family.
My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine. "After the murder of Clerval I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror; I abhorred myself.
Depart to your home, and commence your labours: I shall watch their progress with unutterable anxiety." Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in my sentiments. IV. The Doom of Frankenstein I travelled to England with my friend Henry Clerval, and we parted in Scotland. I had fixed on one of the remotest of the Orkneys as the scene of my labours.
He runs forth into the street, and here, in Mary's first work, we have a reminiscence of her own infant days, when she and Claire hid themselves under the sofa to hear Coleridge read his poem, for the following stanza from the Ancient Mariner might seem almost the key-note of Frankenstein:
Hewlet gave a sign of satisfaction, while Brent wanted to indulge a chuckle which seemed to arise from all parts of him. He was immeasurably pleased. He thought humorously of Frankenstein, and how he must have felt with the monster in his keeping. It was weird, fascinating, and altogether to his liking.
Suppose it were indeed true this Frankenstein, this conscienceless inhuman superman? Brent gripped himself and composed his features and his voice. "But this thing," he rasped. "What does this prove?" "Oh, this is merely automatic a piece of mechanism a model which I stole. It works when it is wound up not like the real one. Look."
Word Of The Day