In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, as
the creature has watched the DeLacey family throughout the winter and into the spring,
he has learned a great deal. They have, unknowingly, been his teachers. He has learned
not only about music and language, but he has also learned about the love of a family
for its members and the love between and man and a woman. He has come to understand the
depth of his own loneliness.
The creature hopes to be able
to find a way to make a connection with this family and become a part of their circle.
The creature has already been secretly doing things to ease their burden and make life
easier: gathering wood and clearing the snow, for example. They ironically credit a kind
spirit for these things, and while that is what the creature is (for he has told
Frankenstein that he was made for love), his appearance is something that these people
would not, will not, understand.
The creature believes that
he might approach them if he had a command of their language. And he has learned from
them, but knows he needs to learn more.
'I improved, however, sensibly in this science,
but not sufficiently to follow up any kind of conversation, although I applied my whole
mind to the endeavour: for I easily perceived that, although I eagerly longed to
discover myself to the cottagers, I ought not to make the attempt until I had first
become master of their language; which knowledge might enable me to make them overlook
the deformity of my
figure...
This will continue
to be uppermost in the creature's mind as he continues to work to master their language,
and he will ultimately approach the old man first because he is blind; he believes that
if Felix and Agatha's father could accept the creature for who he is rather than reject
him immediately because of his appearance, the creature might be able to find a way
through the old man, to be welcomed into their family circle.
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