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burningvelvet · 9 months

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Some of Mary Shelley’s journal entries from late July 1816 when she, Percy, and Claire toured the Valley of Chamounix and visited the Mer de Glace (Montanvert). The scenery inspired Frankenstein and Percy Shelley’s poem Mont Blanc:

“Tuesday, July 23 (Chamounix). — In the morning, after breakfast, we mount our mules to see the source of the Arveiron. When we had gone about three parts of the way, we descended and continued our route on foot, over loose stones, many of which were an enormous size. We came to the source, which lies (like a stage) surrounded on the three sides by mountains and glaciers. We sat on a rock, which formed the fourth, gazing on the scene before us. An immense glacier was on our left, which continually rolled stones to its[Pg 145] foot. It is very dangerous to be directly under this. Our guide told us a story of two Hollanders who went, without any guide, into a cavern of the glacier, and fired a pistol there, which drew down a large piece on them. We see several avalanches, some very small, others of great magnitude, which roared and smoked, overwhelming everything as it passed along, and precipitating great pieces of ice into the valley below. This glacier is increasing every day a foot, closing up the valley. We drink some water of the Arveiron and return. After dinner think it will rain, and Shelley goes alone to the glacier of Boison. I stay at home. Read several tales of Voltaire. In the evening I copy Shelley’s letter to Peacock.”

“Wednesday, July 24. — To-day is rainy; therefore we cannot go to Col de Balme. About 10 the weather appears clearing up. Shelley and I begin our journey to Montanvert. Nothing can be more desolate than the ascent of this mountain; the trees in many places having been torn away by avalanches, and some half leaning over others, intermingled with stones, present the appearance of vast and dreadful desolation. It began to rain almost as soon as we left our inn. When we had mounted considerably we turned to look on the scene. A dense white mist covered the vale, and tops of scattered pines peeping above were the only objects that presented themselves. The rain continued in torrents. We were wetted to the skin; so that, when we had ascended halfway, we resolved to turn back. As we descended, Shelley went before, and, tripping up, fell upon his knee. This added to the weakness occasioned by a blow on his ascent; he fainted, and was for some minutes incapacitated from continuing his route.

We arrived wet to the skin. I read Nouvelles Nouvelles, and write my story. Shelley writes part of letter.”

Excerpts from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein:

“At length I arrived at the village of Chamounix. Exhaustion succeeded to the extreme fatigue both of body and of mind which I had endured. For a short space of time I remained at the window watching the pallid lightnings that played above Mont Blanc and listening to the rushing of the Arve, which pursued its noisy way beneath. The same lulling sounds acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations; when I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came and blessed the giver of oblivion.”

“These sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was capable of receiving. They elevated me from all littleness of feeling, and although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and tranquillised it. In some degree, also, they diverted my mind from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month. I retired to rest at night; my slumbers, as it were, waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes which I had contemplated during the day. They congregated round me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, and ragged bare ravine, the eagle, soaring amidst the clouds—they all gathered round me and bade me be at peace.”

“Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil and seek them in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to me? My mule was brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of Montanvert. I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It had then filled me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the soul and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. The sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect of solemnising my mind and causing me to forget the passing cares of life. I determined to go without a guide, for I was well acquainted with the path, and the presence of another would destroy the solitary grandeur of the scene.”

Mary used some of Percy’s poetry in Frankenstein. Here’s an excerpt from one of Percy Shelley’s most famous poems, Mont Blanc: Lines Written in the Vale of Chamouni:

“Some say that gleams of a remoter world

Visit the soul in sleep, that death is slumber,

And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber

Of those who wake and live.—I look on high;

Has some unknown omnipotence unfurl'd

The veil of life and death? or do I lie

In dream, and does the mightier world of sleep

Spread far around and inaccessibly

Its circles? For the very spirit fails,

Driven like a homeless cloud from steep to steep

That vanishes among the viewless gales!

Far, far above, piercing the infinite sky,

Mont Blanc appears—still, snowy, and serene;

Its subject mountains their unearthly forms

Pile around it, ice and rock; broad vales between

Of frozen floods, unfathomable deeps,

Blue as the overhanging heaven, that spread

And wind among the accumulated steeps;

A desert peopled by the storms alone,

Save when the eagle brings some hunter's bone,

And the wolf tracks her there—how hideously

Its shapes are heap'd around! rude, bare, and high,

Ghastly, and scarr'd, and riven.—Is this the scene

Where the old Earthquake-daemon taught her young

Ruin? Were these their toys? or did a sea

Of fire envelop once this silent snow?

None can reply—all seems eternal now.

The wilderness has a mysterious tongue

Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild,

So solemn, so serene, that man may be,

But for such faith, with Nature reconcil'd;

Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal

Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood

By all, but which the wise, and great, and good

Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.”

Excerpt of a letter from Percy Shelley to his friend Thomas Love Peacock, July 25th:

“We have returned from visiting the glacier of Montanvert, or as it is called the Sea of Ice, a scene in truth of dizzying wonder. The path that winds to it along the side of a mountain, now clothed with pines, now intersected with snowy hollows, is wide and steep. The cabin of Montanvert is three leagues from Chamouni, half of which distance is performed on mules, not so sure-footed but that on the first day the one which I rode fell in what the guides call a mauvais pas, so that I narrowly escaped being precipitated down the mountain. We passed over a hollow covered with snow, down which vast stones are accustomed to roll. One had fallen the preceding day, a little time after we had returned: our guides desired us to pass quickly, for it is said that sometimes the least sound will accelerate their descent. We arrived at Montanvert, however, safe.

On all sides precipitous mountains, the abodes of unrelenting frost, surround this vale: their sides are banked up with ice and snow, broken, heaped high, and exhibiting terrific chasms. The summits are sharp and naked pin-nacles, whose overhanging steepness will not even permit snow to rest upon them. Lines of dazzling ice occupy here and there their perpendicular rifts, and shine through the driving vapours with inexpressible brilliance: they pierce the clouds like things not belonging to this earth.

The vale itself is filled with a mass of undulating ice, and has an ascent sufficiently gradual even to the remotest abysses of these horrible deserts. It is only half a league (about two miles) in breadth, and seems much less. It exhibits an appearance as if frost had suddenly bound up the waves and whirlpools of a mighty torrent. We walked some distance upon its surface. The waves are elevated about twelve or fifteen feet from the surface of the mass, which is intersected by long gaps of unfathomable depth, the ice of whose sides is more beautifully azure than the sky. In these regions everything changes, and is in motion.

This vast mass of ice has one general progress, which ceases neither day nor night; it breaks and bursts for ever: some undulations sink while others rise; it is never the same. The echo of rocks, or of the ice and snow which fall from their overhanging precipices, or roll from their aerial summits, scarcely ceases for one moment. One would think that Mont Blanc, like the god of the Stoics, was a vast animal, and that the frozen blood for ever circulated through his stony veins.

We dined (M[ary], C[lare], and I) on the grass, in the open air, surrounded by this scene. The air is piercing and clear. We returned down the mountain sometimes encompassed by the driving vapours, sometimes cheered by the sunbeams, and arrived at our inn by seven o'clock.”

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vickyvicarious · 1 year

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The following morning the rain poured down in torrents, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains. I rose early, but felt unusually melancholy. The rain depressed me; my old feelings recurred, and I was miserable. I knew how disappointed my father would be at this sudden change, and I wished to avoid him until I had recovered myself so far as to be enabled to conceal those feelings that overpowered me. I knew that they would remain that day at the inn; and as I had ever inured myself to rain, moisture, and cold, I resolved to go alone to the summit of Montanvert.

1818

Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of soul-inspiring fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil, and seek them in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to me? My mule was brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of Montanvert.

1831

By removing the context of Victor's family being with him, the reasoning for his decision to climb the mountain is necessarily changed in 1831. In the original, Victor's lapse back into depression fills him with a dread at his father's reaction. He knows he will be letting him down again, and so his trip up the mountain is a deliberate avoidance of his family, and by extension his duties to them. This makes for some very poignant echoes in his confrontation with the Creature, who almost immediately takes Victor to task for not living up to his familial duties:

Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind.

The Creature speaks in a way as a son castigating Victor for failing as a father; meanwhile Victor is already up here because he sees himself/knows his father would see him as failing as a son. This echo really ties in themes of the strained familial relations and duties he fails to fulfill, and how they relate to him and the Creature. He was avoiding his family and especially his father's disappointment/not handling his grief over his mother well when he first made the Creature. Now he is again avoiding his family and especially his father's disappointment/not handling his grief over his brother and Justine well, when he meets the Creature in person for the first time.

By the end of their confrontation, Victor seems to feel a little uncertain about his swift judgement of the Creature based on no evidence. However it also seems like a certain sense of familial responsibility takes hold ("For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature were"), showing just how strong an effect the linkage of the Creature and Alphonse's words had.

Of course, in 1831, that context is lacking. Victor chooses to climb the mountain almost as a challenge towards nature, or perhaps to his own feelings of misery. He decides to master the elements to an extent, to seek out the 'friends' currently hidden to him by the mist. An interesting word choice given that he has deliberately left his entire family behind to come on this entire trip alone, thus fully isolating himself from actual human friends. And while pretty much nothing is changed in the conversation with the Creature, this difference once again strips away the complexity of Victor's family life. If I had to pick a prevailing theme to the changes thus far, that would absolutely be it. Victor's family is shown as far less flawed, and I really think it's to the detriment of the story.

#frankenstein weekly #1818 vs 1831 #victor frankenstein #the creature

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isablooo · 1 year

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ascending to the summit of Montanvert

#frankenstein #isabelle draws lit #victor frankenstein #myart #it's a double feature tonight <3

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 7 months

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Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

CHAPTER X.

I spent the following day roaming through the valley. I stood beside the sources of the Arveiron, which take their rise in a glacier, that with slow pace is advancing down from the summit of the hills, to barricade the valley. The abrupt sides of vast mountains were before me; the icy wall of the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were scattered around; and the solemn silence of this glorious presence-chamber of imperial Nature was broken only by the brawling waves, or the fall of some vast fragment, the thunder sound of the avalanche, or the cracking, reverberated along the mountains of the accumulated ice, which, through the silent working of immutable laws, was ever and anon rent and torn, as if it had been but a plaything in their hands. These sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was capable of receiving. They elevated me from all littleness of feeling; and although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and tranquillised it. In some degree, also, they diverted my mind from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month. I retired to rest at night; my slumbers, as it were, waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes which I had contemplated during the day. They congregated round me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, and ragged bare ravine; the eagle, soaring amidst the clouds—they all gathered round me, and bade me be at peace.

Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil, and seek them in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to me? My mule was brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of Montanvert. I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It had then filled me with a sublime ecstasy, that gave wings to the soul, and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. The sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect of solemnising my mind, and causing me to forget the passing cares of life. I determined to go without a guide, for I was well acquainted with the path, and the presence of another would destroy the solitary grandeur of the scene.

The ascent is precipitous, but the path is cut into continual and short windings, which enable you to surmount the perpendicularity of the mountain. It is a scene terrifically desolate. In a thousand spots the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie broken and strewed on the ground; some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning upon the jutting rocks of the mountain, or transversely upon other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of snow, down which stones continually roll from above; one of them is particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as even speaking in a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw destruction upon the head of the speaker. The pines are not tall or luxuriant, but they are sombre, and add an air of severity to the scene. I looked on the valley beneath; vast mists were rising from the rivers which ran through it, and curling in thick wreaths around the opposite mountains, whose summits were hid in the uniform clouds, while rain poured from the dark sky, and added to the melancholy impression I received from the objects around me. Alas! why does man boast of sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by every wind that blows, and a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us.

We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day.We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,The path of its departure still is free.Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;Nought may endure but mutability!

It was nearly noon when I arrived at the top of the ascent. For some time I sat upon the rock that overlooks the sea of ice. A mist covered both that and the surrounding mountains. Presently a breeze dissipated the cloud, and I descended upon the glacier. The surface is very uneven, rising like the waves of a troubled sea, descending low, and interspersed by rifts that sink deep. The field of ice is almost a league in width, but I spent nearly two hours in crossing it. The opposite mountain is a bare perpendicular rock. From the side where I now stood Montanvert was exactly opposite, at the distance of a league; and above it rose Mont Blanc, in awful majesty. I remained in a recess of the rock, gazing on this wonderful and stupendous scene. The sea, or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains, whose aerial summits hung over its recesses. Their icy and glittering peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy; I exclaimed—"Wandering spirits, if indeed ye wander, and do not rest in your narrow beds, allow me this faint happiness, or take me, as your companion, away from the joys of life."

As I said this, I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance, advancing towards me with superhuman speed. He bounded over the crevices in the ice, among which I had walked with caution; his stature, also, as he approached, seemed to exceed that of man. I was troubled: a mist came over my eyes, and I felt a faintness seize me; but I was quickly restored by the cold gale of the mountains. I perceived, as the shape came nearer (sight tremendous and abhorred!) that it was the wretch whom I had created. I trembled with rage and horror, resolving to wait his approach, and then close with him in mortal combat. He approached; his countenance bespoke bitter anguish, combined with disdain and malignity, while its unearthly ugliness rendered it almost too horrible for human eyes. But I scarcely observed this; rage and hatred had at first deprived me of utterance, and I recovered only to overwhelm him with words expressive of furious detestation and contempt.

"Devil," I exclaimed, "do you dare approach me? and do not you fear the fierce vengeance of my arm wreaked on your miserable head? Begone, vile insect! or rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust! and, oh! that I could, with the extinction of your miserable existence, restore those victims whom you have so diabolically murdered!"

"I expected this reception," said the dæmon. "All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind. If you will comply with my conditions, I will leave them and you at peace; but if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death, until it be satiated with the blood of your remaining friends."

"Abhorred monster! fiend that thou art! the tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil! you reproach me with your creation; come on, then, that I may extinguish the spark which I so negligently bestowed."

My rage was without bounds; I sprang on him, impelled by all the feelings which can arm one being against the existence of another.

He easily eluded me, and said—

"Be calm! I entreat you to hear me, before you give vent to your hatred on my devoted head. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery? Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine; my joints more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every other, and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. Remember, that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Every where I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous."

"Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me; we are enemies. 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? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing? They spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they are kinder to me than your fellow-beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great, that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale: when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me: listen to me; and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your hands."

"Why do you call to my remembrance," I rejoined, "circumstances, of which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable origin and author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the hands that formed you! You have made me wretched beyond expression. You have left me no power to consider whether I am just to you, or not. Begone! relieve me from the sight of your detested form."

"Thus I relieve thee, my creator," he said, and placed his hated hands before my eyes, which I flung from me with violence; "thus I take from thee a sight which you abhor. Still thou canst listen to me, and grant me thy compassion. By the virtues that I once possessed, I demand this from you. Hear my tale; it is long and strange, and the temperature of this place is not fitting to your fine sensations; come to the hut upon the mountain. The sun is yet high in the heavens; before it descends to hide itself behind yon snowy precipices, and illuminate another world, you will have heard my story, and can decide. On you it rests, whether I quit for ever the neighbourhood of man, and lead a harmless life, or become the scourge of your fellow-creatures, and the author of your own speedy ruin."

As he said this, he led the way across the ice: I followed. My heart was full, and I did not answer him; but, as I proceeded, I weighed the various arguments that he had used, and determined at least to listen to his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity, and compassion confirmed my resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my brother, and I eagerly sought a confirmation or denial of this opinion. For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature were, and that I ought to render him happy before I complained of his wickedness. These motives urged me to comply with his demand. We crossed the ice, therefore, and ascended the opposite rock. The air was cold, and the rain again began to descend: we entered the hut, the fiend with an air of exultation, I with a heavy heart, and depressed spirits. But I consented to listen; and, seating myself by the fire which my odious companion had lighted, he thus began his tale.

#frankenstein #mary shelley #book club #read along #october #spooky month #halloween

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udaberriwrites · 1 year

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Since author reveals were today, without further ado here's the second of my Candy Hearts fics! This one was for @0nelittlebirdtoldme, if you enjoyed it please check out her works as well, you won't be disappointed!

For I Would Forsake the World

Fandom: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

Relationship: Victor Frankenstein/Frankenstein's Creature, Angst

Tw: Dubious Consent, Period-typical homophobia

Wordcount: 1500

A different deal is struck on that little cave in Montanvert, where the creature and Victor meet. In the aftermath Victor finds his life is forever altered... and like a ship lost at sea, he's unable to resist the current pulling him under.

#frankenstein #candy hearts exchange #victor frankenstein #frankenstein's creature #ao3 fic

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Saturday 5 July 1834

5 35

no kiss only ten minutes with her and quiet - fine morning F62° at 5 35 - long in dressing and settling things for A- and myself – breakfast at 7 40 - off at 8 55 and at Montanvert [Montanvers] at 11 – walked about ½ way and rode about ½ hour the way up letting George rode while I walked – went about a hundred yards on the Mer de glace, A- between the 2 guides – as far as people usually do go – in returning went to the damp, low cave (in the style of Gollis but sunk 2 steps instead of even with the ground) where Pocock and Windham slept on discovering the valley of Chamouni [Chamonix-Mont-Blanc] and mer de glace – on the stone or rock forming the roof of the cave is cut in large reddened letters ‘Pocock and Windham 1747’ – an hour at the mer de glace etc – then ¼ at the Pavillon getting boiled milk and off back again at 12 ¼ - home all of us at 2 having walked all the way down very quickly on account of rain - no heavy but content from about 12 ¾ to near 2 - A- not tired tho’ much heated as well as myself – took of[f] her habit and went to bed for an hour and we all had boiled milk again – settling with David, the guide, about journey tomorrow etc A- up and out with me at 3 – went into the church – neatly kept, good in the Italian style of gilded finery about the altars – long talk with the priest about the churchyard door – he had asked if the Roman Catholics were free in England and would fain have converted me to the belief of the real presence – went into 3 naturalists shops - saw the 2 living chamois chez Michel Carrier (the male he had latterly killed the female with a push of his horn into the ventre and a young male nearly at his growth bed in confinement) and bought little model of the valley of Chamouni [Chamonix-Mont-Blanc] also chez Michael Carrier - Had the guide chef about changing one of the mules I had today - A-‘s, that she did not like – he was very civil but said he had not the power to make the change – mules and men must go in turn unless (for I had asked for Joseph Coutet the cleverest naturalist of the set) I chose to pay 3/. a day (1/2 price) extra for the guide so taken out of his turn which 3/. went to the general fund - satisfied with my 2 guides, David Foliguet and Michel Dévouassoud, but if I could not have another mule instead of the one objected to, I would change my plan and go to Martigny, and have guides and mules from there for the tour of Mt. Blanc - home at 5 ¾ - just after a heavy shower – dinner at 6 ½ to 9 - had had David again - nothing could be decided till morning - fine day till afternoon - then rain and ditto heavy in the evening - F64° at 9 55 pm - saw at Montanvert [Montanvers] herbarium at 25/. 300 plants - the rose of the alps is the Rhododendron ferrugineum

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frankenstein-nayra-andrea · 5 months

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Resumen Frankenstein 10 y 11

Un día lluvioso, Victor se despierta y descubre que sus viejos sentimientos de desesperación vuelven a aparecer. Decide viajar a la cumbre de Montanvert, con la esperanza de que la vista de una escena natural pura, eterna y hermosa reviva sus espíritus.

Sentado junto al fuego en su choza, el monstruo le cuenta a Víctor la confusión que experimentó al ser creado. Describe su huida del apartamento de Victor hacia el desierto y su gradual aclimatación al mundo a través de su descubrimiento de las sensaciones de luz, oscuridad, hambre, sed y frío. Según su historia, un día encuentra un incendio y se alegra por la calidez que crea, pero se consterna cuando se quema en las brasas. Se da cuenta de que puede mantener vivo el fuego agregando madera, y que el fuego es bueno no solo para el calor y la calidez, sino también para hacer que los alimentos sean más apetecibles. En busca de comida, el monstruo encuentra una cabaña y entra en ella. Su presencia hace que un anciano dentro chille y huya con miedo. El monstruo procede a una aldea, donde más personas huyen al verlo. Como resultado de estos incidentes, decide mantenerse alejado de los humanos. Una noche se refugia en un pequeño cobertizo adyacente a una cabaña. Por la mañana, descubre que puede ver la cabaña a través de una grieta en la pared y observa que los ocupantes son un hombre joven, una mujer joven y un anciano.

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0nelittlebirdtoldme · 1 year

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For I Would Forsake the World - Fic Rec

So, I got this absolutely beautiful fic as a gift for the Candy Hearts Exchange that I have been privatly gushing about, just to find out this morning that it was actually my dear friend @udaberriwrites! Never would have seen that plot twist coming!

Now, of course, I really gotta share it! Everyone go check it out! 🖤

Frankenstein - Mary Shelley, Victor Frankenstein/Frankenstein's Creature, 1500 words, Angst, Smut, M/M, rated M

#fic recs #my friends fanfic #mary shelly's frankenstein #victor frankenstein x creature #candy hearts exchange

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frankenstank-me-cuppa-tea · 2 years

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Sublime

Victor visits places of sublime nature to temporarily escape his problems. For example, after William’s death and Justine’s execution, he climbs to the summit of Montanvert and toward the Chamounix valley to experience beautiful spectacles of nature. He travels to said places to diminish the depression the death of his friends has caused him. The sights momentarily relieve him of these feelings, but his depression always resurfaces soon after. An example of a place I have visited that I would consider of sublime nature is Niagara Falls. One can gaze at the falls and admire their sheer scale, and can contemplate how something this grand was created; doing so brings a certain sense of joy and awe only found in such spectacles.

Another important aspect of nature in Frankenstein is the motif of ice. Ice seems to mostly be a symbol for the creature, and could represent its lack of empathy and its isolation. Things that are frozen are devoid of feeling, so the creature’s heart is metaphorically frozen due to Victor’s abandonment. Victor supplies no metaphorical warmth, which could be interpreted as care, to the creature, so it becomes devoid of feeling, allowing it to kill without remorse. Also, ice is mostly inhabitable for life, so it represents the creature’s isolation from humans. The reason the novel ends and begins in ice is because Victor’s story is filled completely with somber, icy moments, and completely devoid of happy, warm moments. All of his friends are dead, and he feels a great sense of dread for creating the monster, so it is fitting that there is nothing warm left for Victor.

Word Count: 271

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peppinanaglyphes · 2 years

Video

flickr

21. La mer de glace prise du Montanvert pres de Chamonix. E.LAMY by Peppin ANAGLYPHES

#flickr

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awhilesince · 3 years

Text

Thursday, 30 August 1827 (travel journals)

7 3/4

10 40/60

Breakfast at 9 in the public room – at 10 1/2, 3 guides and as many mules, and off to the Mer de glace –

at 12 stopt to let the mules drink at the Fontaine des Caillés 1/2 way –

at 12 much Rododendron (rose des alpes) what we saw so beautifully in flower –

at 12 1/2 arrived at the pavilion (maison des plaisirs) at the top of Montanvert – several goats about, and a shepherd there all the day – very arduous ascent – formerly one could only go about 2/3 the way on mules – obliged to walk the rest – about 2 years ago the path made up to the Top – Took all the 40 guides 100 days labour – the pavilion a little room where one Takes refreshments, the provisions one takes up, tho’ there are cupboards there full of bread and wine – magnificent mountain scenery – looking Towards the Mer de Glace (in front of us, and on the east side of the Mer) L’aiguille de Bonchard, then ditto de druis, ditto rectes, ditto du Moine (behind which is le jardin, 5 hours ascent from the pavilion and 3 hours to return), then la petite Jorasse, then the grand ditto, then the Tacul, then the aiguille du géant, ditto des Charmots – ditto du Grepon – the behind one is the aiguille du Bletière – all these are the chain of mountains that one sees round the mer de Glace –

off to it from the Pavilion at 12 40/60 – went above 200 Toises (about 1/4 mile English upon the ice – no idea it was great an Exertion – the iron heels of my boots very slippery – I could scarce keep foot-hold at all in ascending and descending the very steep parts – the mer de Glace Extends 12 lieues in length – consideringly less in breadth just under the pavilion within these 4 years – the large blocks of granite one sees now left bare at the margin called in the country patois moraines – brought away a small piece – called the mer de Glace down to about as far as the Chapeau, a very little knoll with a few (7 or 8) larches upon it, which we afterwards saw in descending le chemin de la figlia down upon the source of the Arveron – called the glacier des bois from where the ice becomes more level, which descends almost close upon the village des bois – gained ground upon it till within this last year or 2 – (but is now losing ground and becoming smaller – one can get very easily to the Chapeau to look down upon the mer de glace) but must there cross it to get to Montanvert – the crystals are found 7 lieues from Montanvert at the very foot of the needles – dangerous going there on account of the stones that fall from the needles – l’aiguille de Druis the finest in the whole chain of alps – One ought to go to the top of Mont Breven (4 hours to ascend and 3 to descend) for the finest view of mont Blanc –

In returning from the mer de Glace at 1 18/60 sat a little while on the Pierre des Anglais, – and then ascended by a longer but much less steep path then we had descended – a Frenchman and his wife and little boy who had breakfasted this morning at one of the Table d’hôte while we breakfasted at the other were dining or eating their provision at the pavilion – we had ours (I took very little) and we all became very cozy – They were going down to the source of the Arveron – we went too – the man at the pavilion was very well satisfied with a franc each of the 2 parties –

off at 2 35/60 – not time to send our mules round – they went down before us – very steep – much worse than the way we had come – quite impossible to go it on mules – wonder how the animals could get down – 1 of the guides led one and the other 2 followed – 1/2 down heard the thunderous fall of an avalanche –

at the bottom of this Chemin de la Montagne de la figlia at 4 10/60 – the fine cascade from the glacier des bois forming the source of the Arveron we had seen almost as well en montant this morning – the fine vault there was under the ice in the month of July now quite destroyed by the heat of the summer – sauntered about admiring the fine view of the Aiguille de Druis, and then down the valley to Prieuré – we found the French man sketching the mer de Glace – we left him sketching along the Arveron, crossed the broad bed of Debris to the other side the valley and set off home at 4 10/60 – I was very hot, so had my mule led, and walked to the end of Prieuré where I mounted merely for the sake of riding up to the Inn where we alighted at 5 1/4 –

Mrs B– [Barlow] foot sore from descending the Chemin de la figlia, and both she and Miss B– [Barlow] very much fatigued – I not fatigued at all – in mounting this morning rode à la califourchon up the roughest and steepest ascents and thus saved both myself and mule Exceedingly –

spoke to my guide seriously about my liking to ascend Mont Blanc next year – too late this year – there had been fresh snow – danger of avalanches – Jane’s guide brother to 1 of the 3 guides who perished 6 years ago – the guides (9 of them) were unwilling to go – knew the danger but Dr. Hamel (a Russian gentleman with him) would go – an avalanche swept them all away, but the 3 guides that were 1st were hurled into a crevasse, and never heard of more – the rest of the party then returned, not having much more than 1/2 way to the top – 1 of the guides that perished was particularly averse to go – he had been up 11 times before – but Dr. H– Hamel persisted – they discovered a new path about a year ago, by which the danger from avalanches is mainly avoided – the danger now is from ‘fausses ponts’, crevasses covered over with snow – these on the glacier beyond the grand mulet – they go all tied together by cords, that if anyone falls in they can pull him out – July the best month this, and perhaps the beginning of August the only time – but one should not go after the fall of fresh snow – 6 guides for 1 person – 9 Ditto for 2 persons – 90/. per guide, and feed them, but 100/. per guide will pay all – ladders, keep, tout compris - 3 days work – I must sleep 1 night under the rock of the grand mulet – The father of Mrs B–‘s [Barlow’s] guide was 1 of the 17 guides with Saussure – (slept 3 nights on the summit and 14 on the grand mulet), and by sleeping in the cold got a rheumatism he never cast, and was never able to walk much afterwards – for some time before he died (only a year ago) could not move a limb in bed – no stranger lady has ever been at the top – but a woman from this valley has – the 1st man who went up (from this valley) went up by himself and was 2 nights at the top by himself – not long before Saussure went up –

to make the Tour of the Alps hereabouts would take one 14 or 15 days – long to steal away next summer and do it –

Last night very cold – hard frost – had spoilt all the potatoes that were just beginning to do well after the rain – great loss to the people – grow corn enough except for finer white bread, and this comes from Salanches and Bonneville – Have no mares (so do not breed mules) buy them young at Salanches – mine cost £15, Jane’s £17. Mrs B–‘s [Barlow’s] £20 – no cretins here – very fast goitres – the valley very healthy – shed the junction of the Arve and Arveron – both streams milky from the white sand (decomposed granite fine as dust, – quite white) brought down from the mountains – huge masses of granite (moraines) near the cascade – granite boulder and debris spread widely over the valley –

Dinner (table d’hôte) from 5 1/2 to 6 1/2 – between 20 and 30 people? – all very respectable looking – did not speak to any of them – came upstairs to write – very fine day –

40 guides. each one pays (on being enrolled) 400 to the Chief guide pour son traitement (for his maintenance – he never leaves his bureau), and afterwards 5 sols for every course or job which goes or is to go towards a general fund for the relief of infirm guides – may be serving guide till 60 – 1st and 2nd class of guides – but all paid the same – only that of the most intelligent a certain no. [number] are called the 1st class – 24 porters these too divided into 1st and 2nd class – rank below the guides, but whenever a guide’s place is vacant, Tis filled up from among the porters – a lady and gentleman carried over the tête noir this morning to Martigny – 6 porters per person –

reference number: SH:7/ML/TR/2/0017 - 18

#annelistercodebreaker #annelister #mrsbarlow #traveljournals #switzerland1827

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harvard-art-museums-prints · 4 years

Photo

View of the Mer de Glace, Seen from Montanvert, Anonymous France 1840, c. 1840, Harvard Art Museums: Prints

Harvard Art Museums/Fogg Museum, Transfer from the Student Print Rental Collection Size: 26.1 x 50.2 cm (10 1/4 x 19 3/4 in.)

https://www.harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/270785

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met-photos · 4 years

Photo

Mer de Glace from Montanvert by William Henry Fox Talbot, Metropolitan Museum of Art: Photography

Robert O. Dougan Collection, Gift of Warner Communications Inc., 1981 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY Medium: Photogravure

http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/263170

#themet #photography #metmuseum #williamhenryfoxtalbot

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douglashonorscollege · 3 years

Text

Like Father, Like Son?

art by Yuheng Changyun Chen ⌂

After finishing the book Frankenstein, I found an interesting connection between the content in the novel and a famous quote from ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius. "Man on earth, good at birth. The same nature varies on nurture. With no education, there'd be an aberration. To teach well, you deeply dwell. What's a father? A good teacher. What's a teacher? A strict preacher." This quote sparked several ideas which I used to create my Frankenstein cover image. I integrate three themes in the model: man versus nature, man versus moral, and man versus man. These themes are exemplified through the ice mountain and ship in the background, the yin and yang symbol in the mid-ground, and the creature with Victor in the foreground.

In the novel, author Mary Shelly heavily describes the natural surroundings. The prefacing letters contain Shelly’s detail of the frosty, icy Arctic ocean; chapter five depicts the scary, stormy night; the pure and beautiful summit of Glacier Montanvert is laid out in chapter ten. From these passages, I selected an icy mountain and light blue ocean water with a ship for the background of my piece. This is especially of importance as the book starts and ends in the Arctic ocean. The ship also represents the character Walton as he and Victor Frankenstein are very similar in their curiosity, ambition, and innovation. Furthermore, the background signifies the journey that the creature and Victor have been through; they travel from Geneva to the Arctic ocean.

In the mid-ground, I have connected the story with my cultural background. I featured the yin and yang symbol from Taoism. The dark side of the symbol explains the negative side of human morality, and the bright side represents the opposite. Furthermore, I placed the characters' positions very carefully. I drew the creature’s body and Victor's inner-self on the dark side of the symbol. The dark side of the symbol represents the creature's obvious evil act in murdering three innocent lives; Victor's irresponsibleness for not teaching the his earns his inner-self placement there as well. In contrast, I place Victor's body and the creature's inner-self on the bright side. Victor is placed there for his high social status and his kindness towards his family and friends. Meanwhile, the inner-self of the creature's belongs to the bright side due to its intelligent, truthful, and sensitive nature. The yin and yang influence also highlights the dichotomy between the Chinese and English titles.

Finally, the foreground features the two protagonists in Frankenstein. I was inspired to create the creature as Shelly describes it: "[h]is yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness" (Shelly, location 667). For Victor, I imagined him to be a wealthy eighteenth-century European. I have tried to emphasize that Victor is not a good father, nor a good teacher; he is irresponsible and thus not looking at the creature. The creature is crawling toward Victor while holding a journal and with a broken heart. This expands upon the relationship between the creature and Victor; the crawling action means the creature is hopelessly seeking help from Victor. The journal that the creature is holding is Victor’s own, from which the creature learns the of the society and history of the world. The broken heart tells the audience that the creature is hurt inside.

This image demonstrates the central themes of Frankenstein. I have taken a step further to connect the book to my cultural background and create this visual art from my own interpretation of Shelley’s work.

Works Cited Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein. Pandora's Box Classics, 2020. Kindle e-book file. ∎

More on Yuheng ~ Minerva’s Owl Homepage

#journal #journal2021 #2021

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