Mary Shelley cites William
Wordsworth’s “Tinturn Abbey” near the end Frankenstein’s
eighth chapter, writing that “The sounding cataract / Haunted him like a
passion: the tall rock, / The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, / Their colours
and their forms, were then to him / An appetite; a feeling, and a love, / That
had no need of a remoter charm. / By thought supplied, or any interest /
Unborrow’d from the eye” (19-140).
Ironically, within the
context of Wordsworth’s original work, this sample of the piece is used as a
description of his former reflection upon a place that he’d been as a child—a sharp
contrast to Clerval, who simply seems to find himself wrapped up in the beauty
of the countryside, so new to his eyes. Even more interesting than the quote
itself, I believe, is the part left out: “That time is past, / And all its
aching joys are now no more, / And all its dizzying raptures” (84-86). These
lines immediately follow the ones Shelley quoted and, I believe, extend a hand
in explaining why she chose that specific quote. In the scene that Victor
Frankenstein uses Wordsworth’s quote, he is describing his friend Henry Clerval
not long before his death. “That time is past” (84). Is Victor Frankenstein not
hinting at what is to come for his friend, whose life ends in a violent turn of
events? So innocent and childlike, full of a writer’s passion and eye for
detail, the young man is enthralled with the beauty of this waterfall (ironic
because Henry was strangled and thrown into the waves to wash up on an Irish
shore).
So, I suppose, it could
be said that Mary Shelley uses “Tinturn Abbey” as a sort of warning or prophecy
for the knowledgeable reader, a hint that Henry Clerval’s time of childlike
innocence is soon to be gone—not just gone,
in fact, but obliterated by the cruel hands of adulthood and rage.
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